Page 57 of A Vegas Crush Collection #2

she’s something

Zoya

I lie down on my bed, still smelling Tyler all over me.

I feel the scratch of his beard against my cheek, the callouses on his hands.

His strong arms wrapped around me, his broad chest against mine, our hearts beating wildly.

Even though we had only hugged for a few seconds, because of his height, I had felt small. It had felt so nice.

Why do I feel like this? Uncomfortable. Achy. Unsettled. I try closing my eyes in meditation. I try breathing. In and out. Slowly. Mindfully. Nothing works.

When I think of him, I feel…desire. It is desire I feel, the hot ache unspooling low in my belly, making my toes curl.

I toss and turn, trying to make the feeling go away.

I tell myself that this is best. No hockey players for me.

No hockey in my life at all. I want something different, someone different.

A guy like Tyler is bound to hurt me, and then I would have given in for nothing.

Plus, he needs a good friend. He needs someone stable, someone he can talk to. And Irina likes him a lot. She wants him.

Still, the thoughts of his body, his smell, his touch…

they swirl in my head and I find my hand snaking down beneath the soft cotton of my panties.

I imagine it was me on that dance floor.

Me that he looked at with desire, caressed, rubbed his body seductively against. I gasp, shocked at how wet I am down there. Wet with want. Need. Desire.

My fingertips play at the wet folds of my pussy, pushing to find the small button hidden there.

I don’t touch myself like this often. Only occasionally, but with clear pictures of Tyler in my head, I rub at my clit, my hips rising toward the attention.

I explore, inserting one finger inside, slowly moving it in and out, then adding a second as thoughts of Tyler fill my mind.

Tyler on top of me. Tyler shirtless, powerful.

Tyler, intense and focused. I imagine wrapping my hand around his cock and guiding it inside me.

What it would be like to have him fuck me.

God, yes...

I use my fingers as I writhe and cry out, coming at the thought of being with him. It’s an orgasm that makes my feet tingle and my breath escape. When the aftershocks stop, I curl into a ball on my side, closing my eyes, wishing desperately that I did not want what I should not have.

While showering the next morning, I’m determined to put my mind off Tyler Lockhardt. It had to have been the alcohol that made me feel that way last night, right?

I wash my body, between my legs still sensitive from what I did the night before. I allow my fingers to linger there, reliving the sensation of coming with thoughts of Tyler in my head. But I quickly pull away. I have to focus. Study. That’s what I’m here for.

I’m due to meet some friends, including my sister, for a study date at the local coffee shop. Jay is there when I arrive, his smile bright and wide as I walk in.

“Hey there,” he says, shoving a frozen, green drink across the table at me. “Got you a green tea smoothie.”

“Well, that was nice of you,” I say, giving him a smile in return. “I owe you one next time.”

He rubs his chin and looks down at his open biology notes, pleased with himself.

My sister joins in after about a half hour, bleary and looking terribly unkempt. Her hair is total bed head, her skin pale.

“Rough morning?” I ask as she plops into the seat next to me.

“I think I drank too much,” she groans, putting her head on the table. “Fucking shots. Whose idea was that?”

“Yours, sister.”

“Fuck my life.”

“And fuck Tyler Lockhardt as well?” I can’t stop myself from asking the question.

“Ugh. No. I was too drunk. Did he stop over to check on you like I asked?”

My cheeks go up in flames, I swear. I look away, pretending to dig in my bag, trying to get myself under control. “Yep, he did.”

When I look back at her, she has an eyebrow raised in suspicion. “What happened between you two?”

“What? Nothing. What happened between the two of you? You were all over each other at the club.”

“Wait,” Jay interrupts. “Are you guys talking about the hockey player, Tyler Lockhardt, starting defenseman for the Crush?”

“Yes,” Irina and I both answer at the same time.

“But…I thought you hated hockey players.” Jay sounds slightly pathetic with a whiny, kid voice.

I give him a wan smile. “I do. But I got dragged with the two of them so Irina could get a tattoo, then we got dinner, then we went dancing. I left and those two were still going at it on the dance floor. Tyler swung by to make sure I got home okay. That was all.”

“So nothing happened?” Irina presses, eager for more information.

“Of course not. Other than I decided he and I can be friends.”

“Friends,” my sister says flatly. “With a hockey player.”

“I know, I know, I just think he needs someone to talk to, that’s all.” She raises an eyebrow at me in question. “If anything, I understand how often they are away or practicing.”

“Who’s Tyler Lockhardt?” Lily, one of our study friends asks.

“Mine,” Irina answers Lily with a wicked grin on her face before googling him and showing his picture. Jay looks uncomfortable while the women all ogle the hot, shirtless pictures of Tyler the hockey star.

I peer closely, taking in the ink covering his upper body.

A huge graffiti-like piece is on his chest, and several pieces work up his arms. It looks good on him, I admit, and thankfully my subtle drooling is overshadowed by the squeals of the other women at the table.

Irina is saying how he is going to be her next conquest. How she’s going to take that bad boy all the way to church.

I can’t help but laugh at the expression.

“He is a bad boy, I agree, but he has a good heart. Be kind to him, sister, or you will have his new BFF to contend with.”

“I just want to fuck him, Zoya. It’s not complicated and it won’t break his heart. It might break other things, though…”

The women howl at this and I blush all the way to the tips of my ears. I go back to my studying, trying hard to focus only on the schoolwork in front of me. But in the back of my mind, thoughts of Tyler are there. Nagging feelings of jealousy and want. Feelings I don’t want to admit I have.

“These idiots are annoying me,” I finally say to Jay. “Want to go somewhere else? I have stats in an hour and I really need to study.”

He brightens. “I am not good at stats but yes, I would be happy to join you somewhere else, away from the Tyler Lockhardt mutual admiration club.”

We gather our things and wander out into the bright sunlight. “The sun feels good. Want to sit outside?”

Jay says he is “game” for anything, which I guess means sitting outside will be okay. We find a grassy spot on campus and spread out, me with my confounding statistics homework in front of me, Jay with his biology flash cards and notes.

“Your sister is…” He stops, shaking his head.

“Direct? A slut?”

He chuckles. “She’s something.”

“Yes, she is. Irina is very much about shock value, half the time. Tyler is a conquest to her, so she can say she slept with a pro-athlete. My brother will probably go ballistic if he finds out.”

“Your brother is protective?”

“Lately, yes. He never was before we came here. It’s like my father inhabits his body now.”

“Invasion of the body snatchers?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It’s a movie…never mind. I get what you mean. Does it bother you? That your dad and brother are so protective?”

“No, not me so much. It irks Irina, which is why she acts out so much.”

“So, are you allowed to date?” Jay asks. His cheeks turn pink, which I find endearing.

“I’m an adult. My father wants me to stay away from wild hockey players and the party scene, and since I don’t want a hockey boyfriend anyway, I think I should be fine.”

He sits back, looking satisfied. I can see that he wants to try to ask me out again. And I could see it, maybe. He’s very cute. All-American with his curly brown hair and pretty blue eyes. He’s nice and smart. Could he be my prince charming? Maybe.

Sadly, deep down I know different.

No matter how I try to envision myself with a guy like Jay, who has become a good friend over these past weeks, my thoughts are already invaded by dreams of a certain hockey bad boy that I shouldn’t want at all.