Page 43 of Best Kept Secret (The New York Thunder #3)

LOGAN

I can’t stop grinning like an asshole as I button my shirt.

When I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror in my dressing room, I briefly hate myself.

It takes all I have not to kick my own ass.

Who knew love could turn you into a pathetic fool?

I bite back my smug smirk, turning away from the mirror and shrugging on my suit jacket.

As I walk out of my closet, tying my tie, I stop in my tracks, taken aback by the sight of Millie lying there in my bed.

My bed, where we made love last night. Twice.

My bed where I held her as she fell asleep on my chest. My bed where I woke with her soft body curled into mine.

My bed where she belongs. Our fucking bed. Christ, there goes my heart.

Her red hair is wild, splayed out on the pillows, her face peaceful in sleep, the duvet pulled up high enough, covering her naked body, but slipping low enough to give a tantalizing hint of her silky-smooth skin.

For a long moment I just stand here, rooted to the spot, staring at her. She’s… everything. And she’s mine. Fuck. How the hell did I get to be such a lucky bastard?

My gaze flits to my suitcase waiting by the door like a stark slap to the face, and my heart sinks as reality settles in .

We shared the most perfect night together last night.

For the first time in my twenty-four years, I said the L word, and I fucking meant it.

I love her. And she loves me right back.

And now I have to leave town for five days?

I swear to God, hockey is nothing but a cruel, sadistic mistress of misery.

I heave a sigh, tugging on the back of my neck, tentatively approaching the bed. I don’t want to wake her. She looks so beautiful, so soft and delicate, her thick lashes fanning over her cheeks, the hint of a smile ghosting her pretty pink lips. Mine .

Leaning in, I press a soft kiss to Millie’s warm cheek, allowing my lips to linger with a whispered, “Bye, baby.”

A soft moan of objection slips from her lips, causing my dick to stir, her hand reaching up and cupping my jaw. “Don’t leave me,” she rasps.

“I’ve gotta go, babe. My flight leaves in an hour,” I murmur against her cheek.

Eyes still closed, a sleep-filled smile tugs on her lips as she wraps her hand around the back of my head, pulling me even closer, urging my lips to hers.

I cup her cheek, grazing her lips with mine, but she’s like a fucking drug, and the scent of her hair combined with her warmth, and the soft sounds she makes, make it so I can’t stop myself from dragging my tongue along the seam of her lips and pushing inside when she parts for me.

I lick into her mouth, finding her tongue and coaxing it to play, and with a needy whimper, she tangles with mine, wrapping both her arms around my neck and holding me where I am, kissing me like a woman starved.

“How am I supposed to say goodbye to you for five whole days when I’m addicted to your cock?” Millie murmurs against my lips, playfully sucking on my tongue, and holy fuck, her words do something to me, something I’ve never fucking felt before.

“Just my cock?” I pull back to look down at her, arching a teasing brow .

She winks at me, and man she’s beautiful.

Heavy-lidded eyes full of lust, kiss-swollen lips, the pink that stains her cheeks, flushing all the way down her neck.

My heart races, my dick fucking throbs, and as I tug down the duvet, every last part of my resolve slips away at the sight of her beautiful curves, peaked nipples, perfect fucking pussy right there just begging for me.

I have to go. I’m going to cop a fine, or worse.

But I’m also just a man, standing in front of the woman of his dreams, desperate as fuck to be inside her because her pussy is his new favorite obsession.

As if she can hear my silent deliberation, Millie flashes me a goading smile as she slides her feet up the mattress, knees bending before her thighs slowly fall apart, giving me a glimpse of just how fucking wet and swollen she is.

Jesus fucking Christ. I drag a hand down my face, rubbing my chin, glancing at the time on the clock next to my bed. Fuck it.

As quick as I can, I unfasten my belt, popping the button on my trousers and tugging down the zipper. Millie’s eyes flare, her smirk devious.

“Get on your hands and knees,” I demand, my own voice scarily gruff because the things this woman does to me, she has no fucking idea.

“On my hands and knees?” she repeats, a lick of uncertainty in her tone.

“Hands and knees.” I nod. “Ass facing me. Now.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Millie moves, climbing up onto her hands and knees, and as she turns, presenting me with her ass, her glistening pussy right there, I have to close my eyes a moment to steel myself because Fuck. Me.

“Like this?”

I open my eyes to find her looking at me over shoulder, her eyes wide with innocence, and my heart clenches. “Yeah, baby. Just like that,” I murmur, rubbing my palm over the curve of one of her beautiful round ass cheeks. “ Jesus … ”

“Millie,” she says with an adorable little giggle.

My brows knit together when I meet her smiling gaze.

“Not Jesus,” she sasses.

I sniff a laugh, shaking my head, and rearing my hand back, I give her ass a playful slap, reveling in the way it makes her jump, makes her yelp, makes her stick her ass out even more, silently begging for another one I’m only too willing to oblige her with.

“Oh, I like that,” she says on a moan.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

“You do, don’t you,” I coo, smoothing a palm over her cheek before smacking it again, a little harder this time, the sight of my hand printed on her creamy flesh, sending a fire of possessiveness to rip down my spine.

She hums, wiggling her ass, searching for more.

“I knew you would,” I grit out, smacking her ass for a fourth time. “Because you’re a naughty little slut.”

“ Your naughty little slut,” Millie amends on a whimper.

“That’s right,” I hiss, dipping my fingers between her swollen pussy lips and feeling just how soaked she is, gently slapping her clit. “Mine.”

She moans, back arching, head falling forward. “Do that again. Please?”

I slap her clit again, a few more light taps, grinning like a cocky asshole at the sounds she makes.

“You ready for me, baby?” I shove my pants down my hips, pulling my cock out of my briefs, stroking it long and hard, the tip leaking already.

“Yes!” She glances at me again from over her shoulder. “Give it to me.”

Fuck’s sake. The way she looks right now, pleading me with her fuck me eyes, ass painted red from my palm, pussy fucking weeping—I lock it into the vault of my mind because fuck if I won’t be using this image every time I’m jerking off on the road .

Stepping up to the bed, I place a hand on her lower back, holding her there, wrapping my other hand around my dick and dragging it up and down her wet slit, tapping her clit a few times and watching her jump.

Notching my cock at her slick pussy, she’s hot, wet and, as I slink into her, so goddamn tight, I can’t help but groan as she draws me in with a shuddering whimper.

When I’m balls deep, I look down to where we’re joined as one, and I’m forced to bow my head, chin to chest, exhaling a slow, ragged breath through gritted teeth. “Fuck, the way you take me so perfectly, baby,” I gruff.

Millie moves her hips, and I can tell she wants me to move. And I do move. I pull almost all the way out, reveling in the sight of my cock covered in her arousal, moaning as I fill her again slowly, at the way her greedy pussy sucks me in like it can’t get enough.

“Oh, my God,” Millie whines, her back arching. She pushes her ass closer, needily, and I can’t help but chuckle. “I need more,” she begs. “Harder and faster.”

“You sure, baby?” I check, gritting each word because the last thing I want to do is risk hurting her. She was a literal virgin just last night.

“Yes. Please .” Looking at me again over her shoulder, her bedroom eyes almost wreck me as she whimpers.

I grip her fleshy hips, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed, and I thrust into her so deep, she throws her head back on a loud moan. “Oh, my God. So… good.”

I fuck her hard and fast, just like she begged me to, hitting her deep, the filthy sounds of her pussy sucking me in combined with slap of my balls against her amplified through the silence.

“Yes, yes .” Millie pants, breaths heaving erratically, her body bucking and taking me so damn good.

I reach a hand underneath her and find her clit, strumming it with my fingers.

“Ohhhh, fuck!” she cries out, her body convulsing .

I feel her pussy pulse, clamping around my dick, and I know she’s right there, about ready to tip over the edge.

I pound into her so goddamn hard, I have to clamp her hip down to stop her from sliding across the bed.

My balls tighten, and white dots start to blur the edges of my vision as my own orgasm creeps up on me, ready to take no prisoners.

My pulse thrums in my ears and sweat beads my forehead. “I’m gonna come, Red.”

“Oh, my God, yes, yes, yes… Logan!” Millie screams, her voice breaking as she tumbles over the edge, her orgasm tearing through her.

She’s unsteady, but I keep her upright, hopping up onto the mattress and wrapping an arm around her middle, pulling her back flush against my chest as I continue pumping up and into her.

I pinch her clit between my thumb and forefinger, prolonging her orgasm and causing her body to buck as I fuck her hard and deep, her head falling back against my shoulder.

“I’m coming, baby,” I growl, latching my lips onto her neck and sucking her skin. “Fuuuck.”

Millie’s glazed eyes meet mine as I fill her, and when she flashes me a sex-dazed smirk, I swear to God, this woman fucking owns me.

I’m late. But the plane’s still here. Waiting for me. Fucking great.

Jogging across the tarmac through the rain, I can’t see them, but I can feel about fifty sets of eyes glaring at me from the windows, and I know I’m about to cop the wrath of Coach Draper the second I board, but fuck it. Worth it.

Wiping the stupid grin off my face, I take the steps two at a time, offering an apologetic glance at the flight attendants as they welcome me. I turn and start down the aisle, the air in the cabin thick with tension and laced with an obviousness that everyone is, as expected, pissed at me.

“Cullen where the hell you been?” Coach stands from his seat, glowering at me. He makes a point of checking his watch. “You’re eighteen minutes late, son,” he punctuates each word, his volume increasing with each one.

“Sorry, Coach.” I tamp down the unapologetic smile that’s threatening to break free from its confines. “Traffic on I-87 was really bad… some accident,” I lie easily with a casual shrug of my shoulders.

“Everyone else managed to get here on damn time.” He’s incredulous, waving a hand to emphasize my teammates all sitting in their seats, prepared for takeoff.

“Won’t happen again,” I murmur sheepishly.

“Expect a call from Garret,” he mutters.

Chris Garret. I almost laugh, managing to refrain and biting back a scoff.

With a nod at Coach, I continue down the aisle, ignoring the hard stares from those I pass, specifically Rusty, who looks like he wants to cause me physical harm.

Thankfully, my usual seat next to Happy is free, so I toss my backpack into the overhead bin and drop down into the chair with a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for his onslaught of questions.

Like clockwork, the second I’m seated, he’s on me like a fucking excitable dog, grin smug and knowing.

“Where were you, huh?” He arches a brow.

I try not to give anything away, but I can’t help it. Plus, he’s my best friend, and Dallas sits on the opposite side of the cabin, far out of ears’ reach.

With a conspiratorial waggle of my eyebrows, I say nothing.

“Is that a hickey ?”

I snap back, my eyes wide as I touch my neck, rubbing at the spot where Happy’s stare is laser focused.

“Oh, my God, it is.” He throws his head back with a loud chortle, clapping his hands.

“Shut the fuck up,” I hiss, smacking his chest before tugging my phone out of my pocket and turning the camera on, trying to snap a picture of this alleged hickey .

Happy takes my phone and clicks a photo, handing it to me with a cocky grin.

“Shit…” It is a hickey. And a big one, too.

I rub at the spot of my neck, as if that’s going to get rid of it, racking my brain with how the hell I’m supposed to explain a fucking hickey.

But then when I think about last night, when Millie had been sucking and licking, kissing my neck, the worry inside me ebbs.

Fuck, she can mark me all she wants, permanently for all I care.

I’m hers. She can do whatever the fuck she wants to me.

But I’m about to be immersed in a five day away series with her brother, who also happens to be the nosiest fucker on this team. Now is not the best time for a hickey.

I attach the photo to a new text message and send it to Millie.

Me: Thanks for this by the way [Image]

Her reply comes through almost immediately.

Red: Whoops. Sorry

I shake my head at her reply.

Me: Brat.

Red: Maybe I deserve another spanking…

Fuck. My dick twitches at the memory of my hand connecting with her fleshy ass and the sounds she made, the way her back arched, the way she took me so damn well.

I can’t wait to have her again. I want her over my knee, that beautiful round ass right there so I can really give it to her and make her squirm.

Jesus Christ, I’m fucking addicted to her.

Me: Oh, you can count on that, baby .

I can feel Happy’s eyes on me and I glance at him, finding a know-it-all smirk playing on his lips as he rests his head back against the seat and closes his eyes with a muttered, “Wildcat…”

And I can’t help but smile because fuck yeah, she is. My wildcat.