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)
Brendan hums, folds his arms across his chest, and nods. “It’s not polite.”
“See.”
“But I’m also married to my boss-”
“Not great phrasing.”
“-who is running a franchise team in the NHL. The fucking NHL. That’s not clock in, clock out, forget about it type of shit.”
My shoulders slowly unglue themselves from their tense location.
“I expect unfortunate interruptions—although I am requesting, if I’m allowed to make fucking requests, that they don’t happen during sex—and am flexible about the shit pretty much day in and day out. I know how important this team is to you. Your career. Fucking…hockey. I know your hockey first, hockey last mentality and respect it. I’m not gonna go all Teen Wolf on you every time you gotta handle your shit or occasionally need to talk to a friend.” A smile smoothly slides back into place. “I just ask that you too remember that sometimes your family—me and the little dude you’re growing—need a bit of that attention too.”
Unfamiliar emotions sparked by a level of understanding I’ve never experienced outside of my best friends skates all through my system, threatening to score, threatening to take me completely out of the dating game, leaving me with no choice but to deal with shit the only way I know how. “Take off your pants.”
Brendan’s words stumble in tandem with his frame. “Wh-wh-what?”
“Take off your pants,” I repeat during the cross over to where he’s standing. “I swallow, but I don’t wanna risk getting anything on the damn things especially before we’ve paid for them.”
More bewilderment bursts onto his expression. “Wh-wh-”
My open mouth brushes against his as my hand lowers itself to assist him in the process. “Pants. Off. Babe.”
Before a possible sound of objection can be given, my tongue snakes between his lips to tease his, prompting a hungry growl and faster movements.
Getting the pants off probably doesn’t go the same level of smooth getting them on went thanks to me lowering myself to my knees to help yank them off. Like the klutz he claims he’s not, he fumbles into the wall closest to the door while ridding the situation of his underwear and hits his back with a thud hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs.
Rather than wait for him to regain that breath, I slowly suck one ball into my mouth to ensure that he doesn’t.
That he’s caught off guard.
That he’s left wordlessly flailing around the same way he constantly keeps me.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” is whispered out through gritted teeth, fingers not hesitating to bury themselves into my hair to tug me forward on a wordless imploring for more.
Lazily freeing the one currently in my possession allows me to shift the other into its position and the choice to do it in an unhurried nature not only receives the same mumbled response but a noticeable curling of his toes against the floor.
Huh.
You’d think he’s never had a woman on his sac before.
With as waxed as this area is, I find that hard to believe.
The leisure oscillation of sucking effortlessly continues on low, pleased hums that add just enough vibration to the moment to cause his hard cock to twitch for attention. Despite the fact this isn’t the first time I’ve seen it, it’s damn sure the first time that I’ll remember seeing it and what a fucking sight it is to see.
I’ve seen a lot of dicks in my day. Between childish locker room stunts and a fondness for fucking and forgetting, it just kind of comes with the territory. You could pretty much call me the Dr. Seuss of dicks. I’ve absolutely done that one dick, two dick, curved dick, short dick shit. However, this dick?
This long, smooth, can barely wrap my fingers around it but can’t wait to try dick?
This is the shit you only find once in your whole career…
And that’s if you’re lucky.
And not only have I found it, but I drunkenly married it.
Guess not every tequila decision is a terrible decision after all.
Snaking my tongue upward allows for me to drag the tip along the underside of his shaft and trace every single inch I manage to touch in my languorous sweeping. Heavier groans are accompanied by harsher tugs, yet it isn’t demanding. He isn’t trying to force me to where he wants me to go so much as tell me that when I wanna go there, he’s ready.
He’s more than fucking ready.
His self-restraint leads to my natural need to push.
To taunt.
To summon that piece of him that I love for always going skate to skate with me.
Um…not love.
Like.
Like a lot.
Leaning back on my heals occurs right before my tongue can connect to the tip of his cock, an action that receives an audible, annoyed huff. When Brendan’s hooded eyes drop down to mine, I playfully poke, “Was that not enough?”
His heaving chest suddenly heaves faster.