Page 31 of Game Changer (Wynn Hockey #5)

Jax

Molly lets out a little squeal as I yank her closer to me. But her thighs fall apart, revealing that sweet, sweet pussy to me. The fire flickers behind me, illuminating her, and I study her for a few seconds, enjoying the view. She’s pink and plump and wet.

I set my palms on her inner thighs and lean in to taste her with a long slow lick.

She moans, her hands going flat on the couch cushions.

I lick her again and again, gliding my tongue over slick lips, up and down, probing deeper, then pressing gentle kisses all over her pussy, sucking her soft flesh into my mouth.

Her body quivers in response to my touch, and she makes needy whimpery noises.

When I touch my tongue to her clit, she jolts, a soft cry escaping her.

“Yes,” she says on a soft moan. “Oh yes…”

I take my time, but give more attention to the sensitive, swollen bud, touching my fingertips to her wet entrance, massaging lightly there, then sliding a finger inside. She clenches around me, and I add another finger as my tongue flicks faster. God, I love this. She’s so responsive, so sweet.

I reach one hand up to cup her breast, her softness filling my palm perfectly, her nipple a hard little nub. Her hips rock up and her abs tighten and I keep lashing at her clit with my tongue, faster, until she’s undulating and crying out, her clit swelling against my tongue.

Jesus, that’s perfect. Beautiful. So fucking hot.

I’m so hard I’m hurting, my dick a throbbing spike, but I ignore it as I suck on her clit until she’s drained and limp.

I lift my head, my mouth wet with her essence, to study her pulsing pussy, gently rubbing all around it with my fingertips.

I’m so turned on I can’t stand it, and I rise to my knees.

Shit. I don’t have a condom.

I lean down to kiss the patch of hair on her mound. “Be right back,” I whisper.

I bolt to the bedroom and roll the rubber on as I walk back. She’s right where I left her, spread open to me, still breathing hard. I kneel again in front of her and slide inside her. She’s so wet it’s easy, and as her heat envelops me, I suck in a sharp breath of relief and bliss.

“Christ, Molly.” I wipe a hand over my mouth, then lean over her to kiss her.

Her lips respond, opening to me, clinging to mine as I glide in and out of her.

I support myself on one outstretched arm as I fuck her.

“You feel amazing. You taste so sweet. I need to fuck this sweet pussy into another orgasm.”

Her body flutters around my dick. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah.” I rock my hips, in, out, again and again, each stroke twisting the hot sensation in my balls higher and higher. “Find it…what do you need, baby?”

She slips her hand down to her clit and comes again after only a few rubs, wailing the most satisfying sound, clenching around me, and I let my orgasm roar over me, exploding at my center, flashing up my spine. My balls squeeze and my cock swells and pulses.

I go still, my hands on her legs, every muscle in my body tense.

I’m panting, blind, a mass of jangling nerves.

Finally, when my vision clears and the noise in my ears lessens, I move, giving another slow glide in…

and out. Gripping my cock, I remove the condom and wrap it in tissues from the box on the table, then I scoop Molly up in my arms and sit on the couch with her on my lap.

She’s naked. Warm. Soft. Curling into me like a kitten, her hand sliding around the nape of my neck as she tucks her head beneath my chin. We sit like that for a while, who knows how long, and then she says, “That was the best trivia game I’ve ever played.”

I blow out a soft laugh. “Yeah. Same.”

Molly

The third weekend we’re there, I’m sitting on the deck with coffee in the morning when a man walks around the corner of the cottage. I nearly spill my coffee I’m so startled.

“Hi!” he says. “How are you?”

“I’m, uh, good.” I stand, only a little embarrassed that I’m wearing a huge pair of Jax’s plaid flannel pants and a hoodie.

“I’m Oliver MacDonald.” He jerks his head. “We have the cottage next door.”

“Oh! Nice to meet you. I’m Molly.”

“Are you…I mean, I heard Jax is here.”

“Yes! He just walked to the store for milk. He should be back any minute.”

“Oh, cool. We kind of grew up together here, when he used to come and spend summers with Mr. and Mrs. Thompson.”

“I’ve heard a lot about those summers.” I smile, my chest warming. “Jax loves it here.”

“It’s great that he still comes back. My wife and I live in Toronto now, but we try to come back every summer too, and usually we meet up with Jax.”

I hear the door of the porch open and close and footsteps in the cottage. “Jax,” I call through the screen door. “There’s someone here to see you.”

Jax appears, and a broad grin breaks out over his face. “Big Mac!” He slides open the door, steps out and they do a bro handshake-hug combo. “How the hell are you?”

“Great, man. You?”

“Good! You here for the week?”

“Yeah. The whole family’s here this weekend, but Sophia and I are staying next week, too.”

“Oh hey, this is Molly,” Jax says.

“We met,” Oliver says with a smile. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

“I…” Jax’s voice trails off.

There’s a brief awkward silence as our eyes meet.

“You’re from Chicago?” Oliver asks me.

“Yes!” I nod vigorously.

“Your first time here, then?” Oliver asks. “How do you like it?”

“I love it. Jax has been touring me around and sharing all his memories with me. Was it you whose bathing suit he shoved a minnow into?”

Oliver barks out a laugh. “Yeah, that was me! Asshole. Anyway, come over tonight for a drink and say hi to Mom and Dad. Abby’s here too. My sister,” he adds for my benefit.

“We just may do that.” Jax follows Oliver around the cottage, and I can hear their voices before Oliver hikes through the bushes separating the two cottages.

Jax reappears, still smiling.

“Well, that was awkward,” I say.

He grimaces. “Whatever. Just go along with it. It’s easier than explaining everything.”

“I guess so.” Unless Oliver keeps up on hockey gossip and knows that I’m the one who jilted Steve Shevchuk at the altar.

We do go next door later, carrying our drinks with us. Jax pauses outside our cottage door. “Um…Oliver’s sister Abby is going to be there.”

I blink. “And…?”

“She always had a little crush on me. Maybe you could stick close?”

I purse my lips. “Oh, come on. That was how many years ago? You think you’re such a stud she’s still going to be after you?”

He shrugs. “It could happen.”

I laugh. “Sure, big guy.” I pat his back as he starts through the bushes toward the next door cottage.

Everyone is out on the deck, and Jax is greeted like a long-lost son by Mr. and Mrs. MacDonald. I watch Oliver’s sister Abby greet Jax with a clinging hug that’s not at all sisterly, and she regards me with chilly eyes as Jax introduces us.

Dammit, he was right.

Okay, I can do this. I slide my arm into his and press my body against him, eliciting raised eyebrows from Abby. Ha. I’ll sit in Jax’s lap all night if I have to.

Abby ignores me and asks questions about Riley and how she’s doing, and Jax is happy to brag about his little sister.

Oliver’s wife Sophia is pregnant, six months I learn as we chat.

I hear a lot of reminiscences, including a hilarious story about Jax and Oliver capturing crayfish in the lake and putting them on the counter under a plate for Mrs. MacDonald to find.

“I damn near peed myself,” she says, laughing. “They looked like giant bugs. I ran out of the kitchen screaming and the boys were howling.”

“I nearly died too,” Abby says. “I came in asking what the heck is going on, and I saw those things crawling across the counter. Oh my God!”

I laugh and smile lovingly up into Jax’s eyes. “Troublemaker.”

He smiles back down at me. “Good times.”

“Are you still a prankster in the dressing room?” Oliver asks.

“I like a good practical joke on occasion,” Jax says.

“Like the time you hit Marc Dupuis with a faceful of shaving cream while he was being interviewed on TV?” I ask.

Oliver laughs. “I saw that!”

“Captain Codger?” Mrs. MacDonald asks with amusement. “How did he take it?”

“He’s not as serious as he used to be,” Jax says.

“Jax always did like to have fun,” Mrs. MacDonald tells me. “And the girls followed him everywhere.”

“I don’t doubt it,” I say with a smirk.

I love how easily Jax fits in with these people and the fact that he’s kept in touch with a friend from his childhood. I’m not loving Abby’s aloof attitude toward me, but whatever.

We go out for dinner with Oliver and Sophia one night the next week, which is fun.

They’re a nice couple. They’re excited about their first child, and Jax seems super happy for them, too, asking questions about how Sophia is feeling and how much time she’ll have off work.

Apparently, she and Oliver are both accountants.

When she says she’ll have a year off, I nearly fall off my chair.

“That’s amazing,” I say. I haven’t looked into maternity leave in detail, but I have friends and coworkers who have babies and they sure didn’t get a year off. We discuss mat leave in Canada compared to the United States.

That morphs into a discussion about politics, which could be a field of landmines, but luckily Jax and I have similar views to Oliver and Sophia, so it’s an amicable discussion.

It’s fun talking about these things with likeminded people and also getting to know Jax’s opinions.

We’ve never talked about this stuff, and my admiration for him grows.

I’ve always liked him. But now…I really like him.

Jax

Molly’s preparing dinner tonight. I can hear her moving around in the kitchen.

My ears perk up at a muttered “fuck” and then “goddammit.” I consider going in there to see what’s happening, but hold off.

I’m sure she’s got this. I grilled chicken breasts earlier that she’s going to use in some kind of salad.