Well and Truly Pucked (My Hockey Romance #4) Read Online Lauren Blakely

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny, Sports Tags Authors: Series: My Hockey Romance Series by Lauren Blakely
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Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
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Briar shudders.

That’s the answer to a question between Hollis and me from before we came into her room—will she like it if we talk about her?

Just to be sure though…

“You think so?” I ask him so I can test her reaction.

Hollis sweeps her hair off the back of her neck then kisses her there, eliciting a tremble. “Pretty sure, but you won’t know till you try it, man.” He kisses up her neck to her ear, nips on the lobe. “Want him to kiss you hard, baby? Make you forget the day?”

She swallows and breathes out a needy, “Yes.”

Hollis’s tone shifts. Firm. A command. “Then say please to my friend.”

Briar looks up at me with lips parted, cheeks flushed, and hands bound. Hollis has clasped her wrists behind her back, like he’s offering her to me.

Such a good fucking mate.

But she doesn’t say please. Her eyes are glossy with desire, but there’s a hint of skepticism etched in her irises. “You sure you’re not mad we were together last night? I don’t want this to be weird.”

There’s a toughness to her tone. Self-protection, I think. Makes sense, given the ways she’s been screwed over recently. I know the feeling too, having been there myself. I run the back of my knuckles down her cheek, feeling terrible for my frustration moments ago. “I’m not at all mad,” I assure her. “Not only have we shared before, we fucking love it. Let me show you how much I love it.”

Her eyes float closed, and she tips up her chin, whispering, “Please.”

I slide a thumb over her bottom lip. She gasps. I coast along her jaw. She moves with me, turning into my touch like she’s in a trance.

I travel my hand over her throat. Touching her is such a privilege. “Can you feel how much I want you?”

She nods, soft breath escaping her lips.

I dust my lips along her cheek, inhaling her fresh, summer breeze scent. “Can you tell I only want to make you feel good?”

“Yes.”

I can’t wait any longer to taste her again. I crush my lips to hers.

I kiss her hard, thoroughly, covering her mouth with mine. Our tongues skate together. Her breath is soft, her lips lush. And her need—her hunger—is a beautiful thing.

I travel a hand down her loose T-shirt, along the wide neckline. I kiss her collarbone, roam across her soft flesh, tease at her with my teeth.

She moans and gasps, arching into me. Hollis reads her cues, asking, “You want to touch him now, baby?”

“I do,” she murmurs to him, then he lets go of her wrists. The second they’re free her hands fly up my stomach over my torso, grabbing at the neck of my shirt to tug me against her.

My chest molds to hers. She feels spectacular in my arms.

Hollis moves somewhere else. Makes himself scarce perhaps so we can have a moment to kiss like this.

Frenzied. Needy. Tangled up together. It’s a wild kind of kiss. I pull on her lower lip. She bites mine. My fingers curl around her head, roping into her hair. I make a ponytail of it in my fist, then pull.

Her breath hitches against my lips, then she kisses back hard. She grabs at the waistband of my jeans, jerks me closer to her, no doubt so she can feel the outline of my cock.

Then she’s grinding, seeking.

And I’m wanting…

She wrenches apart, lips shiny, eyes glittering. Wheeling away from me, she crosses the room to Hollis, who’s lounging on the bed, feet crossed at the ankles.

The second she reaches him, he’s sitting up and she’s grabbing his face. Then kissing him.

But slower than she kissed me. More sensually. She takes her time, savoring the kiss in a different way.

She even sounds different, teasing me with softer sighs and murmurs until she breaks that kiss. Then, she says to both of us: “Can I please show you guys what I like?”

28

THE FIRST LESSON

Briar

They kiss so differently.

Hollis kisses like a slow dance, a sultry song that thrums through your cells, makes you feel like your outline is dissolving. He’s the sun that warms me in the afternoon.

Rhys is the guy in the sleek bar who wants you, the one who kisses you in a dimly lit corner as the guitar amps up on the sound system. He’s twilight, a dirty promise heading into the darkening night.

I crave both kisses. They each turn me on, and I’m a hot mess.

I’m ludicrously wet.

They’ve made me feel really good with no judgment. No issues. That gives me an idea. I back away from the bed a foot or so.

I like my body. It’s strong. It’s healthy. I can do handstands and backbends, and I can lift myself up on my hands and hover.

I want them to admire me. To stare at me. “Watch me.”



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