Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
It’s the first bit of affection I’ve allowed myself for Tillie that wasn’t rooted in sexual desire. It’s pure, and I’ve not felt anything like it before.
But because her soft body is pressed against mine, and I’m feeling all kinds of fuzzy things for her right now, my body—that specific part motivated by sexual gratification—reacts to her proximity.
I pull back only enough to cup her cheeks and bend down to kiss her. I make it instantly hot and claiming, and I let it sweep me away.
Tillie sighs, her fingers clutching my T-shirt to hold me close.
Searing lust rages through me, and it’s not just a matter of wanting to be inside her.
I need it.
I need to make the deepest connection I can have with her so I know she’s truly not disgusted by what she’s learned about me.
I fucking need the affirmation, and although part of that makes me feel like a pussy to need such a thing from this woman, I know if she doesn’t give it to me, I’m going to be more fucked in the head than ever before.
Tearing my mouth from hers, I whisper, “I need you, Tillie.”
“You have me,” she whispers back.
And that’s all I need.
I sweep her into my arms, stopping at the grill as I walk by to turn it off.
She clings to me, her arms around my neck. “Does this mean we don’t have to eat those crappy burgers?”
I snort as I walk into the house. “No, we don’t have to eat those crappy burgers. I’ll take you out to eat after.”
After I drown myself in her sufficiently to drive away any lingering thoughts that she might bolt now that she knows the true me.
In my bedroom, I make short work of removing our clothes, but I’m not in a hurry to fuck her. I have a condom at the ready, but I take my time letting my lips and tongue roam every part of her lush body.
It’s only after she’s writhing, cursing, and begging do I spread her legs and drive home.
Yes, home.
That’s exactly what she feels like, and while I should question and even be wary of such a sentiment, I’m too goddamned lost in the moment to try to understand what’s happening.
I drive into her over and over again, memorizing the tight grip of her body, the sounds she makes with every thrust, and finally the way she cries out my name as she bucks wildly against me with her orgasm.
Trying to draw me in deeper.
But I’m already in deep—with my cock, and apparently now with a private part of me that I’ve shared only with her. I don’t want it to be this way, but I can’t avoid it.
She’s special to me now, but I don’t know what that means.
The only thing I’m sure of is that when my own orgasm rips through me, I know I’ve got some serious soul-searching to do if I want to keep this going.
“Jesus,” I gasp as I collapse on top of Tillie. Her chest heaves against mine, our bodies slick with sweat.
Her fingers play in my hair as I drag my lips across her shoulder. She shivers, and I lift my head to look down at her.
I brace myself to see something bad, but she smiles.
“Feel better?” she asks.
She’s not talking about the phenomenal sex we just had but about my unburdening on her.
“I feel lighter,” I admit.
“Can I ask you something about hockey?”
“Sure.”
“This whole thing with Kyle and your inability to talk to him before the crash… that’s why you walked away?”
I have to think about it. How much is the crash itself, and how much is the betrayal? “The crash was jarring. It knocked me and everyone off-balance. But the thing with Kyle is what caused me to spiral. The feeling that I was undeserving of being part of that team was so intense, I couldn’t see anything else. I was afraid I would hurt my other teammates. In fact, I was certain of it. I was convinced I was a horrible person, and I just wanted to remove myself from it all.”
“The arrest in New York and the attack on that ref?”
I nod. “I was so angry at everything, most of all myself. I wanted to hurt other people so they would hurt as much as I did.”
“Didn’t anyone try to help you?” she asks, censure in her tone.
My laugh is brittle as I consider her question. “Everyone tried to fucking help me. The team’s owner, the general manager, my teammates. Especially my teammates. Every time they would reach out a hand, I’d smack it away. I didn’t deserve such unfettered loyalty from them when I wasn’t able to give it in return.”
“Not true,” Tillie exclaims. “You can’t think that one mistake changes your entire being. You can’t take twenty-six years of living and expect fifteen minutes of a bad choice to erase your inherent nature. You’ve got to cut yourself some slack, Coen.”