Page 47 of Hot for the Hockey Player (The Single Moms of San Camanez: The Vino Vixens #2)

He grabbed my hand and hauled me inside, tearing off my clothes as he marched me backward toward the bedroom, his mouth never leaving mine, unless to yank my shirt over my head.

“Fuck, I woke with such a hard-on this morning,” he said against my mouth.

“Hasn’t gone away. Just knowing you were coming over …

” I ground my hips against him as he went to work on the drawstring of my loose linen pants, both of us standing at the foot of the bed.

I kicked out of them and reached behind to unhook my bra.

His fingers were in my hair as he tilted my head back and deepened the kiss. Pushing his other hand beneath my underwear, he found me drenched for him, and so ready. Immediately, he slipped one finger inside while using the heel of his palm to rub my clit.

Shamelessly, I rocked my hips for more friction as we devoured each other’s mouths. I was already so primed, so turned on, that it literally took him less than five minutes to have me coming. Just like he promised.

Tingles raced through me from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes as we stood there in his room, his finger inside of me, tongue against mine, and I tumbled over the edge of the cliff, whimpering into his mouth.

My pussy pulsed and squeezed around his finger with each new wave of the orgasm.

I broke our lip lock and cried out as he scraped the tip of his thumbnail over my clit in such a way I thought I might pass out.

Then his mouth fell to my neck—the opposite side of the bite mark—and I thought for a moment he was going to give me a matching pair, but he didn’t, he just kissed me and held me as the aftershock trembles ransacked my body and goosebumps rose along my arms.

A moment later, I melted into his arms and he held me up, my eyes droopy, entire body buzzing.

“Yes,” he said with a hiss of triumph. I pried one eye open just in time to see him do a little fist pump. “I told you I’d have you coming by nine thirty-five, and it’s nine thirty-four.”

Rolling my eyes and grinning, I reached for the waistband of his sweatpants. “Your turn?”

“Not yet. Still haven’t had breakfast,” he said, guiding me to put one foot on the bed as he crouched down and pressed his mouth to where I was hyper-sensitive.

I sucked in a sharp breath as he used two fingers to spread my pussy lips apart and flick my clit with his tongue.

I gasped again, followed quickly by a moan as he fell into a tantalizing rhythm of quick tongue flicks that had me seeing stars.

He hadn’t even pushed a finger inside of me.

It was just his tongue, and I was already well on my way to orgasm number two.

Then again, he did say he wanted to give me three or four …

Just when I thought I was going to explode, he stopped, locked his lips around my swollen nub, and sucked. My legs shook with pleasure as the pressure to come continued to build deep in my lower belly. He sucked again, and again, treating my clit like an Everlasting Gobstopper.

My fingers fell into his hair as I nearly lost my balance, and I held onto him for dear life. His gaze tipped up to mine, hooded and full of lust. “You ever had a finger in your ass?” he asked doing a dramatic circle around my clit with his tongue that had me shivering.

I nodded.

His eyes went a little wide in surprise.

“I’ll tell you later. It’s not a bad story,” I reassured him.

“Do you … want it again?”

Smiling, a little shyly, I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

The flare of triumph in his eyes made me kind of giddy as he used some of my own natural lubrication with his finger to prep my ass.

Even just the brush of his finger through my crease drove me wild.

It’d been a long time since I’d been with anybody, let alone had someone back there.

But my body remembered. My pleasure receptors remembered.

I bucked against his face, riding it, as he sucked my clit again.

At the same time, he gently pressed his finger against my tight hole from behind.

I exhaled slowly and relaxed my muscles, pushing out a little to allow him easy access. He slid in with ease and gently began to move his finger in and out, matching the rhythm I rode his face.

I was so freaking close now. My body was a powder keg of pleasure and everything Maverick did was just a teasing spark of a match.

With his free hand, he slid one finger back into my pussy and moved the finger in my ass against the one in my pussy, creating friction against the thin membrane separating them.

“Oh god,” I whimpered, tightening my grip on his hair.

He released my clit from his lips, then drew it back in, sucking harder than ever this time and inhaling deep through his nose.

Finally, he struck that match, dropped it, and I detonated.

I wasn’t just a powder keg. I was a powder keg next to a lifetime supply of fireworks, and dry tinder.

If I was literal fire, they could see my flames from space.

My entire being trembled as the waves of ecstasy didn’t just roll through me, they grew with each pass, building like a snowball tumbling down a hill.

I cried out more than once, gripping Maverick’s hair until my knuckles ached as he continued to move his fingers and suck, as if trying to draw a third orgasm from me.

But I could barely keep myself standing, especially when my toes curled on the hardwood floor of the bedroom and I nearly fell over.

It all just kept going. From the top of my head to my toes, and all the way back again. My pussy pulsed like it had a heartbeat of its own around his fingers, and I know I must have soaked his hand. He didn’t seem to care.

By the time my orgasm began to wane, I couldn’t stand anymore. I had to collapse to the bed, at least to sit. He carefully removed his fingers, and I released my grip on his hair. “Sorry,” I murmured, when I saw him wince.

Grinning, he stood up, only groaning a little. Then he brought his mouth to mine, allowing me to taste myself. “Don’t. It means you’re into it. I’ll be right back. Get on the bed. Face down, ass up.”

Then he headed to the bathroom, leaving me gaping at him as he walked away.

“Next time, I’ll eat your ass when you’re in that position,” Maverick said, slowly pulling out and holding onto the condom at the base before climbing off the bed to dispose of it.

We’d done it doggy style, and I was still on my forearms, body humming from orgasm number three, and ready for a nap.

Once he finished in the bathroom, I went in and took care of things, then joined him back in bed, unable to get the idea of him “eating my ass” from my mind. I definitely hadn’t done that before.

His smirk said he was still thinking about it too. “Ah-ha. Something you haven’t done yet?” He yanked me against him so that my hand rested over his heart.

“Perhaps.” I toyed with his chest hair and looped one of my legs over his.

“You’ve … you’ve been with other guys besides your horrible husband, right?” he asked, a quaver of unease to his voice, which I found really cute. I couldn’t put my finger on whether he wanted my answer to be a yes, or a no.

“One,” I confirmed. “Ballard and I met in the final year of our undergrad. Then we went to law school together at Gonzaga. He was an older student too. A single dad who had his kid part-time. Neither of us were looking for a relationship. We were focused on our kids, on school, and getting through it as fast as possible. However, we also …” I glanced at him and smirked, “had needs. And the release helped us study with a clear head. He was a great study partner.”

“So, you were like fuck buddies?”

“I guess you could say that.” I snuggled deeper into him, pressing my nose to the side of his chest for a moment to just pull more of him into me.

He tightened his arm around my shoulder, easing some of the tension that started to build inside of me for some unknown reason.

Was I worried he might get jealous of Ballard?

I’m not sure. But either way, a rigidity formed across my chest that made it difficult to pull in a full breath.

He must have noticed and turned to me. “You okay?”

I nodded, even though I wasn’t.

“You know you’re not my first, right?” His playful smirk was an attempt to soothe me, and it was working.

“Yes,” I whispered. “I know.”

“I, uh … I actually lost my virginity in your house.” Rolling his lips inward, he stared at me with wide, teasing eyes.

My jaw dropped. “Was I home?”

“No, no. I would never do that. I only brought girls over when you and the kids were gone. And I honestly hardly ever did it. But you went away with them for a weekend and … I’d been kind of seeing this girl. We hadn’t been able to find a place to be alone , and …”

“You turned my house into your perverted sex dungeon.”

“I did.” His solemn nod made me snort. “We had sex on every surface—twice. I’m surprised you didn’t find our floggers and handcuffs wedged between the couch cushions.”

I gave his nipple a little flick. “As long as you were being safe.”

“We had a safe word— watermelon . And I used it several times.” God, I loved his smile and the way he so easily, so effortlessly, made me relax.

It wasn’t even like I pushed all my niggling and worrisome thoughts away for later.

They dissolved into nothing when Maverick was around. He made them disappear.

“Well, I’m sure your list of satisfied and heartbroken women is vastly longer than mine.”

“You have a list of women you’ve satisfied? Do tell.” He turned over onto his side to face me, propping his head in his hand and resting on his elbow. “I want all the details. Leave no nipple out.”