Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“The interview wasn’t that bad, baby. Geoffrey and I both thought that TV twat was being unnecessarily unprofessional towards you.”
Adoration momentarily blankets her face; however, I don’t know if it’s from the fact that I watched it, the term used—surprised myself a little there—or the defense in my voice regarding the subject.
I’ve seen enough press conferences and interviews to know what’s acceptable and what’s not.
And the shit that chick pulled was not.
They were total trash TV moves.
Harlow smiles, spins around, and slowly backs up. “I’ve got one more really important spot to show you.”
My hand motions for her to continue to lead, although I am secretly praying, we can walk.
I’m tired of fucking running.
She lazily strolls the next stretch almost as if seeking rather than recalling, hand gently stroking the edge of the row she’s passing by. Eventually, she descends the steps until we’re on the front row yet keeps wandering around until we’re nearest the area the players come out to take the ice. At that point, she flops down in the edge seat and motions for me to position myself in the one beside her.
To my surprise, she doesn’t immediately begin whatever wild tale is next.
No.
Harlow props her legs on the edge of the seat in front of her, folds her hands on her stomach, and presents me with a mischievous smirk.
I try to hide my nervousness as I tease, “Is this where one of the players asked you out or challenged you to a beer chugging competition post game or some shit?”
“No, this is where you kissed me for the first time soberly.”
There’s no hesitation to lean over and smash my mouth against hers.
Absolutely.
None.
How my body registered the shit before my brain did is a mystery I honestly don’t need solved now or ever.
Unlike the rest of her which is hard and toned and shit I swear is capable of cutting diamonds, her lips are soft and supple and perfect for sucking. The bottom one is easily slipped between mine and teasing it with the tip of my tongue receives a whimper so faint that I’m left with no choice but to chase it. To hunt it down and demand it makes itself truly fucking heard. One hand possessively curls around the back of her neck and yanks her towards me. Whether it’s the physical force or the aggression I use that causes her to gasp doesn’t fucking matter nearly as much as the fact my tongue is granted access inside where it feverishly whirls. Does laps around hers. Rolls and rolls and rolls in circles until she’s the one out of breath, looking for a moment to catch it. Rather than show her mercy—the thing she didn’t show me running around this place—I increase the speed. Gently pull her into the pushes so that the only thing she can feel…taste…fucking think is me. Her fingers paw at my polo and collect the fabric into a ball, a ball she uses to keep me pinned to her.
Us cemented in this moment.
Like she doesn’t want this shit to ever end.
Maybe she doesn’t.
I damn sure don’t.
While the one set clings onto my shirt, the other skates across my crotch to clamp down on my cock, an action that fumbles my mouth from hers on a heavy groan. “Fuck, baby.”
“That was my idea, too,” she tempts in an airy tone. “How about we add fucking for the first time soberly to the list while we’re here?”
My dick answers on my behalf with an encouraging thump against her palm.
Which isn’t the first time it’s spoken for me sans my consent.
And something tells me when it comes to Harlow it won’t be the last.
Another dark, heated grumble precedes my response, “We-”
Sudden machine humming sounds slap away the prepared answer prompting us to look over at Fred who is entering the rink on his ice resurfacer.
Cock blocked by a fucking Zamboni.
That’s a new one.
Harlow removes her touch completely at the same time she snickers, “It would probably be better for both of us if we didn’t get fined by the league for fucking in front of employees, huh?”
“Probably.” I reluctantly remove my touch as well. “And I can’t really afford that. Fuck, I can barely afford to buy you the shit to make dinner. I haven’t exactly been paid yet.”
She offers me a smile so sweet that it practically makes my teeth hurt. “How about we go to the store together—you can still drive—and we’ll add, we were right here, the first time we decided to make that new adventure happen?”
“I like that there are moments with me in your collection of favorite memories.”
“I like that shit, too.”
And I really fucking like that she shared all of them with me to begin with, that she’s showing me a side of herself I know others don’t get to see, but it’s probably best I don’t say that shit right now…