Page 5 of Breaking the Pucking Rules (LA Vipers #1)

KODIE

S he walks through the room with her hips swaying and determination in each step, and reality slams into me.

She’s going up to her hotel room to wait…for me.

Holy fuck.

With my eyes still on her, I make my way off the dance floor.

“Bro, where’s your girl going?” Fletch asks as I pass him unknowingly.

“U-uh?—”

“Is everything okay?” he asks, his hand curling around my shoulder and forcing my attention to him.

“Y-yeah. Everything is great.”

He looks in her direction just in time to see her flee through the double doors.

“Your dancing wasn’t that bad,” he mocks as if it’ll make this situation better.

Sucking in a deep breath, I attempt to get my shit together.

I’ve got a decision to make.

Follow through and potentially have the best night of my life.

Or bail and go home and…always regret it.

Her words from earlier come back to me. “Nothing worse than living with regrets.”

Would I ever forgive myself if I called a car and disappeared instead of seeing where this could lead me ?

She’s already told me that she isn’t interested in anything more than a night. And she clearly has no idea who I am.

It’s safe to let go and enjoy myself, right?

“Kodie?” Fletcher asks, his brows pinched with concern.

“She hasn’t left. She’s?—”

“O-o-ohhhh,” he sings, predicting what I’m about to say. “You should go. You should definitely go,” he encourages, his eyes wide and excited.

“Fletch, I don’t?—”

“Your secret is safe. Just…make the most of it. See you at practice,” he says before clapping me on the back and none-too-gently shoving me forward.

It hasn’t been long enough yet, so instead of making my way upstairs I head toward the hotel bar.

One for the road…or should it be, one for the elevator?

Once I’ve ordered and taken a seat, I pull the card from my pocket and open it.

Inside is her keycard, and her room number scrawled on the opposite side.

My stomach flips as I wonder what she’s doing right now.

Cleaning up?

Getting changed?

No sooner is my third scotch of the night placed in front of me than I have the glass against my lips.

“Fuck,” I hiss as it burns all the way down.

This certainly isn’t the evening I thought I was going to have.

But…when in Rome, and all that.

Placing some bills on the bar, I take off in search of the elevators that will take me to the tenth floor—and hopefully the brunette in the green dress.

My foot taps and my fingers fidget nervously as the car climbs higher through the building. But it’s not until I step out that a thought hits me.

Will she have taken her mask off?

If she has, will she expect me to do the same?

I glance over my shoulder, contemplating turning back, but the thought only lasts for a millisecond.

I may not want her to know who I am, but I can’t back out now.

With my eyes tracking the numbers on the doors, I finally find the one I want.

One-zero-five-five.

Fifty-five…that’s my number.

Any doubt I had vanishes as I stare at it.

My gut instinct screams that this is the right thing to do, so without allowing my head to get involved, I knock on the door twice.

Silence.

Once again refusing to listen to my fears about her not being on the other side, or this being a setup, I tap the key to the small black box beside the door and crack it open.

“H-hello?” I call, realizing for the first time that I don’t have anything to call her.

“Come in.” The second her seductive voice hits my ears, every muscle in my body relaxes. But it only lasts for a second, because the next thing I know, her sweet perfume is luring me in.

I don’t see the room. It could be any color. Hell, it could be empty, for all I know.

The only thing I see is her.

She’s standing in the center, still in her green dress and, thankfully, still wearing her mask.

Fuck. We’re really doing this.

Swallowing down my apprehension, I remember who I am.

Or at least, who I used to be.

I come to a stop when there’s only a foot between us and just stare at her.

Neither of us says a word. We don’t need to. Our eyes and our bodies do all the talking for us.

One second, nothing is happening, and the next, I’m surging toward her, sinking one hand into her hair and clamping the other on her ass, pinning her tiny body against mine.

Her shriek of shock is swallowed the moment my lips connect with hers, and I kiss her just like I wanted to downstairs.

There is no soft and gentle. No easing in. We dive straight into exactly what we want.

It’s wild and it’s filthy. It’s everything she promised me.

Our masks collide, but neither of us makes a move to remove them, letting me know that she’s just as happy to stay anonymous as I am.

My heart races to the point I’m sure it’s trying to beat out of my chest, and my skin prickles with the need to feel her touch on every inch of me. But nothing compares to the state of my dick.

Fuck. I’ve heard the term “so hard it’s painful” many, many times in my life, but I’ve never felt it as wholly as I do now.

The pain is fucking real.

And something tells me that the second she touches me, I’m going to embarrass myself beyond belief.

I need to take the edge off.

The only person who’s touched my cock in…longer than I can remember is me.

Fuck, that is mortifying.

Tightening my fingers in her hair, I drag her back, severing our connection.

I blink twice in disbelief when there are a few inches between us.

How is she even more beautiful than she was downstairs?

Not willing to lose myself in my thoughts, I dive into action.

“Turn around,” I demand, and she follows orders without missing a beat.

I knew there was something right about this woman.

She stands confidently, her slender shoulders bare and the zipper of her dress taunting me.

Moving forward, my fingers clasp the tiny bit of metal resting between her shoulder blades as my lips press against her neck.

“Oh god,” she whimpers as I kiss a trail along her shoulder, slowly pulling the zipper down.

The moment I pass her hips, the dress plummets to the floor, leaving her beautifully naked beneath.

“Have you been walking around like this all night?” I ask, palming myself as I take in the delicate curve of her spine before it hits the fullness of her ass.

“Maybe,” she taunts.

With a smirk, I shake my head and walk around her to the other side of the bed.

I give myself a moment in the hope of controlling my raging arousal before I turn around and get a proper look at her.

She almost knocks me on my ass.

Fuck. She’s perfect.

There are so many things I could say in this moment, but we’re not here for conversation or compliments. We’re here for one thing and one thing only.

Pleasure.

“Come here,” I demand.

Being dominant in the bedroom isn’t new to me. I learned early on that I loved being the one in charge; I loved watching a woman bend to my wishes.

But this is the first time it hasn’t come naturally to me.

It’s because it’s been so long and I’m out of practice.

Or at least, that’s what I tell myself.

After stepping from the mass of fabric around her feet, she moves closer, her hips swaying and her breasts bouncing gently as she moves.

I take in every inch of her skin. Her breasts are the perfect handful, one slightly bigger than the other. Her rosy pink nipples begging to be pinched and sucked, and her hairless pussy is already glistening with desire.

My mouth waters as I wonder if she’ll taste as sweet as I imagine.

“Good girl,” I praise when she stops in front of me.

Her eyes widen, but the slight smile on her lips and the way she wiggles her hips lets me know that she likes it.

“Now what?” she asks, happily playing the game.

“Get on your knees and take my dick out.”

All the air rushes from her lungs, but although she might be surprised, she doesn’t back down from the challenge.

Instead, her knees hit the thick carpet beneath us, and she eagerly reaches for my waistband.

She moves with such fervor and haste that I can’t help but wonder if it’s been as long for her as it has been for me.

No, it can’t be. Not a woman this sexy and tempting.

My body flinches violently when she tucks her fingers beneath the fabric of my boxers.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I pray to whatever sex deity there might be up there to stop me from embarrassing myself.

I’m not sure it’ll be enough.

My eyes pop back open the second she begins to tug the fabric over my hips.

I stare down at her in disbelief as she does exactly as she’s told.

But instead of focusing on the task at hand, her eyes are staring up into mine.

My breath catches as my dick springs free and I send up another prayer.

Every single muscle in my body is pulled tight, waiting for what comes next. But…nothing happens.

Instead, she rests her hands on her thighs and waits, her eyes not wavering from mine.

Shit.

“Do you want my dick, Troublemaker?” The second I say the word “dick,” her eyes drop, and fuck if the way they widen and her lips pop open in surprise doesn’t give me the confidence boost that I need.

She licks her lips before nodding. “Yes.”

“Then you’re going to need to prove you deserve it.”

I don’t need to give her any more instructions. That’s all she needs.

Her slim fingers wrap around my shaft, and she strokes me twice before leaning forward and licking around the head.

Ho-ly fuck.

How I don’t blow then and there as I watch her get started is anyone’s fucking guess.

“More.” The plea falls from my lips without instruction from my brain. But when she takes me fully in her mouth, I don’t regret it. “Fuck. Fuck,” I grunt as my fingers sink into her hair so I can hold her in place.

The guys are right. I am missing out.

“Jesus,” I groan as I hit the back of her throat.

Still, she stares up at me with her large, emerald eyes.

Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t look away.

She’s…addictive.

She works me like she’s been doing it all her life, hitting all those magical spots that threaten to make me come long before I’m ready. But as much as I might want to hold off and make this last forever, I also really want to fuck her.

I can’t do that yet. Not until she’s taken the edge off.

If we’re doing this—and it very much looks like we are— then we’re doing it properly.

I don’t want a quick wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.

I want the full one-night stand experience.

One that will leave me exhausted yet satisfied tomorrow.

One that will get me through the next God knows how many depressing years of celibacy.

“Yesss,” I moan as she does…something that makes my head almost implode.

Fuck.

There is not a single chance of me forgetting this night for a very, very long time.

Whether that's going to be a blessing or a curse, I'm yet to figure out.