Page 28 of The No Touch Roommate Rule (That Steamy Hockey Romance #2)

Chapter

Sixteen

PARKER

I t’s happening.

It’s finally fucking happening, this thing I’ve dreamed about, longed for, wanted more than I’ve wanted anything since that morning junior year of college, pacing by the phone, praying for the golden ticket that would finally take me to the NHL.

She’s wrapped around me, legs locked at my waist, and it feels like I was built for this. For holding her, carrying her, taking her exactly where we both need to go. My hands grip her ass, palms guiding her higher as I propel us toward the bathroom.

Her mouth drags over my neck, her tongue tracing fire along my skin until I can barely breathe. My cock throbs hard against the press of her body, every nerve lit up and blood rushing fast. Her nails dig into my shoulders, the desperation in her touch echoing down my spine.

“Jesus, Mack,” I gasp as she nips at my pulse point, marking me like she’s claiming her territory.

And I’m here for it.

I’m ready to be hers, for her to be mine, for the final walls to drop, leaving nothing but her and me and how perfect it is between us.

“Touch me.” She slides down my body, every inch of contact making me want to howl. “Touch me everywhere. Please. Everywhere.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I growl, cranking the water on in the shower before spinning back to take care of her.

We tear at each other’s clothes like the monstrous things they are, these stupid barriers keeping us from finally being naked together.

Her sundress catches on her earring. My shorts get caught in my knee brace.

We’re graceless, desperate, laughing and cursing as we wage war with cotton and spandex.

And then, there she is, in nothing but white lace panties and a matching bra I can see through and…

My brain short-circuits.

It’s just an error message up there, a spinning pinwheel of death, because she’s…

She’s Makena. Makena, golden in the sun streaming through the shutters, her lips swollen from kissing me and her big blue eyes locked on mine, full of trust and hope and a tender thing I’m too superstitious to name, but God…

If I weren’t already in love with her, I would be now.

I’m not going to fuck this up. Not even a little bit. I can’t. I won’t.

“You’re staring.” Her voice breaks, making me think she might still be a little nervous, too.

But hell, I’ve never wanted a first time to be as good as I want this first time to be. I want it to be perfect for her, to prove to her this is right in every way a thing can be right.

“Because you’re beautiful.” The words scrape out of me, raw. Real. “And I want you so much. I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want you, Makena DeWitt.”

“Me, too,” she says, her arms coming around my neck. “I want you so damned much, Leo Parker.”

Our lips crash together again—tongues, teeth, wild and hungry.

Her hands work my boxer briefs down, I pop the clasp at the back of her bra, and just a few seconds later, we’re skin to skin.

Her breasts press against my chest, my cock is trapped between us, and I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but groan into her mouth like a dying man as her fingers dig into the base of my spine.

“Shower,” she pants against my lips. “Now. Please. I need to be up against the wall with you inside me as soon as humanly possible.”

We stumble under the spray, still kissing, hands everywhere. The water’s a little too cool, but I barely notice as her fingers wrap around my cock, making my vision go white at the edges.

“Fuck.” I brace a palm against the tile to keep from collapsing as she begins to work me up and down. “Mack, God, you have to?—”

“Is this what you thought about?” She strokes me slow, torturous, her thumb circling my head in a way that makes my hips jerk. “When you were touching yourself in your bedroom, while I was twenty feet away doing the same thing?”

“Every fucking morning.” I catch her wrist before she can work her fist back up again. “But I thought about this more.”

I drop to my knees on the shower floor, water pounding over both of us as I kneel on the tile. The fancy flex-action in my brace holds like a champ—God bless elite sports medicine.

Makena stares down at me, water sliding down her gorgeous body in obscene rivulets, and a part of me insists that I should draw this out. Say something dirty or funny or both. Tease her a little.

But I’m way past teasing.

I’m starving.

I wrap my hands around her waist, drawing her closer as I press my lips to the jut of her hip bone. She gasps, her breath shuddering out as she rests trembling hands on the top of my head.

“I’ve been dying to taste you,” I murmur against her skin. “Every night. Every morning. All I think about is this.”

And then I drag my tongue through her folds and everything inside me explodes in fireworks of celebration. Like a lost soul finding water in the desert. Like a man hearing music after years of terrible silence.

God, she’s just…

She’s passion and sweetness and life and a salty, earthy, primal taste I already know will ruin me forever.

I groan into her, grip her thighs to steady her, and dive in. I eat her like she’s the only thing that’s ever mattered, like I’ve got something to prove. Like if I make her come hard enough, she won’t run from me again.

That she’ll let me love her and love me back, and finally, so many confusing things about being a human being will make sense.

Makena cries out my name—more music in my ears—as her head falls back against the tile. “God, Parker. You’re so good at that… So good…”

And determined to be even better…

I suck her clit, increasing the pressure when she starts rocking into my face. Her hands fist in my hair, and her breath comes faster, sexy “about to get there” sounds escaping from the back of her throat.

Her voice breaks on my name again, and I hum against her clit.

A beat later, she cries out, a guttural noise that makes my already pulsing dick throb with its own heartbeat.

Her knees buckle, and I slide one hand up to grip her ass, keeping her steady, anchoring her as I glide two fingers into her tight little pussy.

She comes and comes, grinding against my mouth— wild and unashamed, her entire body trembling as I work her through it.

I lick and suck and love her with my mouth and fingers until she finally starts to steady, but I don’t let go.

Not yet.

I kiss my way down her thigh, then back up again, mouthing soft, reverent things against her slick skin as she slowly catches her breath above me.

Finally, finally, she slides her fingers from my hair and squeezes my shoulder.

“Your turn,” she says, her voice rough, wrecked.

I glance up to see her staring down at the nearly purple erection bobbing in front of me like she’s dying for a taste.

But when she tries to drop to her knees, I catch her. “No. I need to be inside you, Mack.” Bracing a hand on the tile, I rise to my feet. “I need it so fucking bad. Just give me ten seconds to grab a condom.”

“No,” she says, catching my arm when I try to step out of the shower. “I have an IUD, remember? And I don’t want anything between us. Please.” She reaches down, her fingers curling around my cock again.

Her hand is shaking, like she needs me inside her as desperately as I need to be balls deep. She wraps her leg around my waist, I lift her, and suddenly I’m right there, lined up, my cock brushing where she’s dripping for me.

But fuck…I’ve had fingers inside her.

I’ve felt how small she is.

“Are you sure you’re ready, baby?” I ask, gripping the base of my erection, rubbing my dick’s thick, swollen head against her clit, making her suck in a breath. “I can make you come again first. Before you try to take me.”

“No, I need you now,” she whispers, kissing me with the words. “Just…slow.”

I nod, every muscle straining as I press forward, pushing just the tip into her heat. Then a little deeper, until I feel her inner walls start to strain in response.

She gasps—a sharp, startled sound—and grabs my shoulders as her lashes flutter shut.

“God,” she breathes. “I knew you were big, but seriously, Parker…”

I freeze, pulse picking up as I start to wonder if I might actually be too much for her.

She’s already squeezing me so tight, and I’m only an inch into a journey of nine full, desperately throbbing inches.

But dammit, I swear to God, if my monster dick makes it impossible to fuck this woman, I’m going to cry.

Like a baby.

And no one will ever feel sorry for me, but it will be a tragedy all the same.

“We can stop,” I say, every word ripped from my chest. But I mean it. I don’t want to hurt her, refuse to hurt her.

“No. Don’t you dare.” Her breath comes in shallow pants, but she clings to me. “Just kiss me.”

So, I do, pouring everything I feel for her into the kiss. I cup her breast in my free hand, teasing her nipple, telling it how sorry I am for being too much below the belt. And slowly, I feel her begin to relax. A moment later, she tilts her hips, and fuck…I’m sliding deeper.

Deeper, deeper, sinking into heaven as she finally lets me in.

She’s still the tightest thing I’ve ever felt, but soon, I’m buried to the base, my jaw clenching as I pause at the end of this first, hard-won thrust.

“You okay?” I murmur, my voice trembling.

Her breath shudders out against my lips. “I’m so full, Parker. I’ve never been this full. It’s so…much.”

“Too much?” I ask, determined to pull out and jerk off onto the shower wall if she says yes.

“No, just give me a second,” she whispers.

I hold still. Kiss the corner of her mouth, breathe her breath, brush reverent hands over her shower-hot skin. My forehead rests against hers while we both breathe through the pressure, the intimacy, the realness of it all, until finally she starts to move.

Her thrusts are small, shallow, at first. But soon she’s breathing easier, her muscles relaxing as we find a slow, gentle rhythm.