Page 16 of Trick Shot (Bainbridge Hockey #4)

“Make me,” I dare, stepping closer, so our bodies are almost touching.

If I take a deep breath, they will be. I’m so damn tempted to cover her lips with mine, but I hold back because the next time I kiss Claire Fowler, whether it’s in thirty seconds, thirty days, or thirty years, it will be because she wants it as much as I do.

“I’m a scientist,” I say, keeping up our banter because, damn, it gets me nearly as hard as the sight of her body does.

“I know things. And lucky for you, I might have the remedy to your problem.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that? A twelve-inch dildo?”

My eyes go wide, both from the sass she dishes at me and the thought of using a dildo on Claire’s sweet pussy as I claim her ass with my cock.

God, this woman makes me think filthy thoughts.

“No silicone necessary,” I assure her, nudging myself a centimeter closer.

Fuck me, if my rock-hard dick so much as twitches in my shorts she’s going to know about it.

Closing the paper-thin gap between us, she presses her breasts to my chest, her flat stomach to my softer one, and the valley between her thighs to the hard ridge of my dick. “What’s the fix, Pete? If you have the cure, then tell me, because I need it.”

“You already know exactly what you need. The question is what you’re going to do about it.” My hands rest on her hips as I let my eyes roam over her face, and I notice the exact moment she makes her decision. Her eyes flutter closer as she leans up toward me, her mouth seeking mine.

Claire’s lips are the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.

I could get drunk on them. Fuck . As our tongues tangle together, I realize I could do this all night.

But Claire’s not nearly as patient as I am, apparently, because she grabs my hand and leads me up the steps.

“Do you have your key card?” she asks as I point to the door that’s mine.

Seconds later, we’re inside and I have no memory of unlocking the door or scanning my badge.

All I can remember is the taste of Claire on my tongue.

And fuck, I want more of it. Her lips part, but just when I’m about to pull her close and fuse our mouths together again, she stills and takes half a step back.

“I just want us to be clear about what this is and what it isn’t. It’s an extension of this afternoon, that’s all. The same rules apply.”

Shaking my head, I reach for her. “Do we need rules?”

Without hesitation, she answers me. “Yes.”

“Just sex?” I ask, recalling what she said earlier. “So, we’re friends with benefits, and nothing more?”

“Technically,” she says, taking my hand and guiding me toward the bed, “I think we’re enemies with benefits. But either way, the result is the same. There’s no attachment. There’s only sex.”

Standing next to my bed, I watch as she unbuttons her shorts and slides them down her legs before doing the same with her lacy black underwear. She peels her tank top off so that she’s standing in front of me in just a bra.

I should balk. Walk away. At least slow the fuck down. I’m already in too deep, and I know with certainty that this isn’t going to end well. But I am powerless to resist her. I don’t even want to try.

Instead of doing the smart thing, I reach out and let my finger trace the lace covered band of her bralette before I flick the front closure.

She lets out a breathy moan and I can’t tell if it’s because she likes the way her breasts feel, naked and desperate in the cool air of the room, or if she’s genuinely surprised that I’m agreeing to her terms.

I don’t like them. But I am agreeing with them. Anything that gets Claire’s naked body closer to mine has my vote.

“I want to know if you can make me feel like that again,” she says, reaching for me. “But I don’t want there to be any pressure. Not on me or you. I just?—”

“I know exactly what you want, Claire. I know what you need. And I know how to give it to you.” I watch as my words wash over her, giving her the relief and the space necessary to let go.

Claire’s beautiful, there’s never been any doubt about that.

It’s not just the way her cheeks bloom or the fact that her eyes are the same color as a hazy morning sky.

Whether she’s freezing me out with her steely blue gaze or slinging insults in my direction, there’s a cool confidence about her that’s mesmerizing.

She’s self-possessed and it’s sexy as hell.

But right now, standing in front of me with her guard lowered, her vulnerability exposed, she’s fucking intoxicating.

Trust isn’t a gift that Claire gives freely or easily, so the fact that she’s ready to surrender the fate of her pleasure to me sends a thrill right through me.

Running her finger along my jaw, she tips my chin down just enough so we’re eye-to-eye. “Don’t go getting any ideas, Santos,” she warns, because clearly, she can read my mind now.

“I have so many ideas,” I say, my voice rough with need as I pull her close to me and lower us both onto the bed.

I’m not lying. My brain is doing overtime cranking out scenarios left and right.

Some are filthy, some are sweet. Some aren’t even sexual.

Impossible as it seems, I just want to be with Claire, to see where this goes.

But I’m smart enough to bite my tongue. I’m ten steps ahead of her, and I know it.

And now is not the time for that conversation.

Now is the time for me to prove her right.

She issued a challenge tonight, and I’m about to show her that I’m more than capable of getting the job done.

“Lie back,” I instruct, sending a silent prayer of thanks that teaching assistants get single rooms. My queen-sized bed is far from spacious, but the twin bed in Claire’s room is the equivalent of a couch cushion.

I’m a big guy and I need space, especially when the task at hand is showing Claire all the ways I can make her body feel good.

She rests her head against my pillows, her long hair fanning out over the white sheets.

Her sunburn has faded, and her skin has a golden glow.

Freckles dot her cheeks and nose, and there’s a smattering of them across her chest and shoulders, too.

Her nipples are dark and tight, and my mouth is fucking watering.

“You’re beautiful,” I tell her honestly.

She shakes her head. “No pretty words, Pete. This is sex. You don’t have to flatter me, you just have to fuck me.”

Her words incite an itch I can’t scratch. The friction between us is ever-present and unending. My head has been in the clouds, imagining this as a beginning, but Claire’s already digging the grave.

Well, fuck that shit.

“I’m not allowed to talk, is that it?” I ask, not bothering to wait for an answer because I can guess what her response will be.

“I’m only good for one thing? That’s all you want from me?

A hard fuck? An orgasm that makes you feel so good you start to see stars?

You want my hands, my lips, my dick, but not my words?

I can play by your rules for now, but fair’s fair. If I can’t talk, you can’t either.”

Reaching my arm down to the floor, I scoop up the little scrap of black lace that passes for underwear.

It’s soft and delicate, so different than the woman who wears it.

I ball it up in my fist and bring it to her open mouth.

My words have shocked her and that makes it so much easier for me to slip the fabric past her lips.

My cock swells in my shorts at the sight of her. I’m taking a mental picture because any second now, she’s going to rip her flimsy little panties out of her mouth and tell me to go fuck myself.

But she doesn’t. I wait a beat, sure that a litany of insults will tumble out of her mouth right after the bundle of fabric does. But Claire says nothing. Her mouth stays quiet, and the panties stay exactly where I put them.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” I say, unable to stop myself. Claire admonishes me with a look, the intense set of her eyes warning me to keep my mouth shut.

Point taken. Besides, I’ve got better things to do with my mouth.

Shimmying my big ass down the bed, I part her legs and settle myself between them.

Claire approves of my intentions because her legs fall open to reveal that her glistening pussy is waiting for me.

She’s soaking wet and I know her clit is swollen and needy.

Our verbal tug-of-war is foreplay and we’re both fucking into it.

Silently, I meet her gaze, and those pretty blue eyes tell me to hurry the fuck up.

Fortunately, I can take direction just as well as I can give it.

I’m lying on my belly, still fully clothed in a faded BU Hockey tee and basketball shorts.

Claire tore my t-shirt off earlier today at the cabin, and if she executes that same move at some point tonight, I’m not going to stop her.

But I’m not about to hit the pause button right now just to take my clothes off.

I don’t need to be naked to make her body shake a quiver as she comes on my tongue.

Because that’s the fucking gameplan.

Slipping a finger into the space between us, I glide it over her folds.

She shivers in response, and I’ve barely gotten started.

I cradle one of her ass cheeks in the palm of my left hand while I slowly trace the seam of her pussy with the index finger on my right.

My pace is agonizing and it’s having the intended effect.

Claire is restless and hungry. She’s not a fan of slow and languid.

Fuck no. She wants it fast and hard. She needs a punishing rhythm, and my leisurely strokes are driving her crazy.

She doesn’t yell at me, though. How can she, with those hot-as-hell panties still stuffed in her mouth.

Her compliance should surprise me, but it doesn’t.

I have a feeling she gets off on this game just as much as I do.

Without warning, I thrust my finger inside her at the same time as I press my lips to her clit. There’s nothing relaxed about my pace now. I’m driving into her and sucking on her and the way she bucks her hips up to meet my face tells me this is what she needs. It’s what she’s been craving.

The bed is rocking with the force of our bodies.

Claire tastes so good and I’m not shy about wanting more.

The sounds and moans that escape her lips let me know she’s feeling every bit as good as I am.

She hooks her legs over my shoulders and threads her fingers through my hair, effectively putting me in my place and telling me to stay the fuck there.

She’ll get no argument from me. My tongue dives deeper into her center, alternating thrusts with my finger while I rub her clit with my thumb.

The sensations overwhelm Claire as she tightens her grip on my hair and holds me in place while she fucks herself on my face.

I’m lapping up every drop of her desire and when she stills for a second, I go deeper, knowing I’m tipping her right over the edge into ecstasy.

She lets out a sob as the orgasm takes over and holy fuck, her whole body pulses with aftershocks.

I force my greedy mouth to stop devouring her and when I pull back, I see the most beautiful sight.

Claire’s body is spent and sated. The black panties are half in her mouth and half spilling out of it.

A lazy smile adorns her face, and her eyes are glazed over.

Rising up to my knees, I reach into my shorts to free my aching cock. Claire’s eyes go wide, and I’d laugh at the sudden change in her expression if I weren’t so fucking hard right now. Her jaw goes slack, and the panties fall to her chest.

“Don’t look so shocked,” I tease. “You’ve seen it before. You’ve felt it between your legs. Or did you forget about all that?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget that,” she says, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she can censor them. “You’re just…big. Like, the stuff legends and porn are made of.”

“I’m a big guy,” I say, shrugging one shoulder.

“No shit,” she quips, her eyebrow arched. “I swear I can still feel you.”

“My mouth or my dick?” I ask, stroking myself.

“Yes,” she answers, bringing a smile to my lips.

It seems we’ve abandoned the no-talking rule, but I’m struck speechless when Claire scoops up her panties and slips them between her legs. She presses them to her center to coat them in her hot wet heat. A groan escapes my lips when she reaches up and places them in my empty hand.

Sweet. Fucking. Hell.

Wrapping my hand around her wet panties, I breathe in the scent of her that is now every-fucking-where and jack myself.

I’m so close to coming it’s embarrassing, but fuck, I’m turned on.

I can smell her arousal on my hand and my lips.

I can feel it mix with my own pre-cum. The friction of the lace on my cock is exactly what I need.

The way her body squeezes my cock has been burned into my memory and it’s all I can think about.

I’m on the edge here, and I need to pull back a little so I don’t spill my load all over her perfect pussy or her bare stomach.

“Do it,” she commands, propping herself up on her elbows, practically presenting her tits to me .

Jesus. There’s no fucking stopping me now. Not when she says it like that. My mouth opens on a curse as my dick releases hot ropes of cum onto those sweet, soft, lickable tits. My orgasm feels never-ending, but maybe that’s just because I don’t want the look of bliss on Claire’s face to disappear.

I don’t want any of this to disappear.