Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Is there a goalie kink?
I need to ask my sisters.
If so, I’m sure I have that kink.
Alex skates toward me beside Coach, but he doesn’t speak to him. His eyes are only on me. Hooded and dark, and even with the cage covering his face, I can see the intensity in his expression. He’s making it real hard for me not to want to attack him on the ice. I don’t know why I’m so insatiable, but fucking hell, he’s got me revved up. I remember telling him once that I wanted to ride him with his gear on. He told me it wouldn’t work, but I still think it will. I have it on good authority we could make it work. I could just imagine his leg pads digging into my ass and back, his gloves on my butt as I held on to the cage of his helmet.
Yup, I have a goalie kink.
I watch something move in his eyes, and a slow, naughty little smirk comes across his lips. I don’t even notice Coach anymore, not until he is speaking to me.
“McDavid,” he says with a nod, and I know his eyes fall to my stomach.
“C-coach,” I stutter, sounding like an idiot. Did Alex tell him? Shit.
I lean on the boards as Alex throws his gloves and water bottle on the ice before lifting his helmet to show his flushed, wet face. He bends over the boards, traps my upper half with his arms, and leans in, the cage I was just imagining holding on to as I rode him brushing my forehead.
“What is on that pretty little mind?”
“You,” I answer without hesitation, and I instantly hate myself for it. That is, until he smiles widely at me. “And that time I said I wanted to ride you while you were in your gear.”
His grin grows even wider, and my insides clench.
I totally have a goalie kink.
Or an Alex kink.
Or both.
“I don’t know how, but I’ll be up for trying,” he teases, and I can’t help but grin back at him.
He leans in, kissing my nose, and I make a show of grimacing. “Alex! You’re all sweaty.”
He gives me a look and tells me in Spanish, “You don’t mind when I’m pounding into that sweet pussy.”
My face burns as I gawk at him, feeling his words all over my body. His dirty talk is next-level hot, something I’ve never experienced before. His throaty laugh assaults my heart as he leans in, kissing me again. This time, my top lip. It sends flutters all throughout me as I hold his gaze.
Against my lips, he asks, “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing the most beautiful woman in the world while I’m all sweaty?”
I reach out, running my fingers along the emblem of his practice jersey. “My sisters dropped me off since I wanted to get some footage, and I was wondering if you’d take me home.”
He kisses me again. “I’ll take you anywhere. As long as I’m able to stay.”
“You can.” I smile as our eyes meet. “Home, for starters?”
“That’s something we need to decide,” he says, reaching out to twirl the end of my ponytail around his fingers. “Where are we making a home?”
I press my lips together. “I just moved in above the Drippy Drip.”
“I know, but it’s loud during the day. If the baby is anything like you, it’ll be grouchy as all hell without sleep.”
I give him a sheepish grin. “I’m not that bad.”
“You don’t need to lie. It’s only you and me,” he teases, kissing me again. “My place is small, but we can always start to look for something.”
I shake my head, and I feel my skin tingling everywhere. This is why I want to say no. Let’s just agree to be parents, not together. There are so many what-ifs. So many What do we do with this? And it freaks me out. He still has one foot out the door, the NHL sniffing all over him, and I know I’m not enough to stay for. But then, shouldn’t I go with him? I mentally can’t handle it. It took months for me to accept that I am pregnant, and then I hid it. I’m still adjusting to everyone knowing. Fuck, I’ve got to tell my peepaw.
I feel my hands start to shake as I practically beg, “Let’s wait on all that. I mean, we need to figure out what will happen when you get called back to the Assassins. And it’s just a lot I don’t want to think about right now.”
He lifts his hand to my face, cupping it before he moves his thumb to stroke my jaw. “Hey, hey, hey. Look at me.” I hesitate, and he guides my chin up so our eyes meet. His are so kind, so inviting, as he whispers, “We don’t need to decide now. Let’s take things one day at a time.”