Heavy Shot – Nashville Assassins Next Generation Read Online Toni Aleo

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
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His lips quirk. “We keep going, you’ll be just as sweaty.”

“Promise?”

“That’s a fact,” he says, his lips grazing mine. “But that’ll have to wait until we’re both on stable ground.”

“That’s not what I want to hear.”

He sighs deeply. “Same, but someone has to be responsible here.”

“And you’re claiming that’s you?”

He grins. “In this situation, yes…kinda,” he admits, and my face breaks in a full, ear-to-ear smile. He squeezes his arms around me, holding me close. “Can I take you home?”

“You’re not gonna just swing by?” I throw at him, and his eyes darken.

“No. I have no intention of leaving once I get you home.”

“I have no intention of letting you,” I tell him, threading my fingers through his hair. He leans his head to mine, our noses pressing into each other, every bit of my being filling with excitement. While nothing has been confirmed, I know what will happen when we get back to the apartment. “Let’s go.”

“I’ve got to shower first. Will you wait for me, or do you want me to meet you back at home?”

He glides his fingers along the crease of my bottom. Even through my shorts, I can feel the heat of his fingers. Under his gaze, I feel so powerful, so worthy, so beautiful. I move my fingers to his mouth, running them along his bottom lip. “Can I join you?”

Oh, I wish I had a camera. The look on his face goes from surprise to desire in two seconds flat, but thankfully, I’ll always have that mental image. “Join me? In the shower?”

I bite my lip, willing myself not to back down. “Yes.” A strangled moan leaves his lips as he squeezes my ass. “Only if you want me to.”

“I can’t think of anything I want more.”

The heat that pools between my legs has me shaking to my core. I remind myself I want this. That I don’t want anything other than to take a shower and feel every single inch of Dimitri’s body against mine. I ignore my fear of him seeing my body, replacing it with pure need for him. I will do this because I want this.

Neither of us speaks as he helps me to my feet. I watch as he steps off the ice and enters the door to the bench. I bend down, grabbing his gloves and helmet. When I stand up, he’s there, taking them from me. His eyes search mine, and his intoxicating grin takes my breath away. “Come on,” he says, holding out his hand to me. I take it, and he leads me down the tunnel to the locker room. He lets go of my hand to throw his gloves into a basket before going to his locker. I watch as he puts up his helmet and then starts to take off his equipment. I don’t know what has gotten into me, but I walk up to him, much to his surprise. His eyes darken, and he watches me with a hooded gaze as I help him pull his jersey up and over his head. His lips fall to mine for a quick kiss, almost like he is thanking me before, together, we unhook his chest pad. I lift it off him and throw it into his locker before he yanks off his long-sleeved moisture-wicking black shirt, which is drenched in sweat.

When I come face-to-face with his chest, I lean in and kiss him right where his cross hangs. He hisses out a breath as I run my tongue up his chest and along his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin and savoring it. He cups the back of my head, bringing my mouth to his, and our kiss is soul-shattering. So much want, so much desire is in each swipe of our tongues. When he pulls back, he’s as breathless as I am. He cups my face, pressing his thumb to my bottom lip and rubbing it slowly. “One second,” he whispers, and then he sits down, making quick work of his skates.

“This is more than a second,” I tease, and he smirks up at me.

“Patience, Janie.”

“I have none,” I admit, and he looks at me through hooded eyes.

“No?”

“No, none,” I whisper, and his eyes swirl with desire. “Not when it comes to you.”

That pleases him as he stacks his skates against the bottom of his locker. Then he stands, undoing the laces of his girdle before it falls to the floor. As my eyes drop to where the girdle was before, I can see every inch of his hardness in his black mesh shorts that are bunched up at his thighs. My mouth goes dry, and I try to swallow, but I might as well have sand in my mouth. My eyes widen as he undoes his sock straps, and they join his girdle in his locker. I watch as he yanks off his socks before tossing those too. When he looks up at me, a grin plays on his lips, and then without any warning, he drops his mesh shorts.



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