HOOKED: Boston Terries Hockey #4

by Chance, Jacob

  Besides escaping my parents, there are definite perks to staying at the cabin. The view alone is enough to entice me to never want to leave, but the pool seals the deal.

  “Do you need me to convince you?” he asks.

  “No. I already made my decision.”

  “Then don’t keep me waiting any longer. What’s it gonna be?”

  “Let’s stay at the cabin. I don’t want to go back to the beach yet, and returning home seems like a waste of a good opportunity.”

  A satisfied grin sweeps across his face. He raises his beer between us. “To opportunities.”

  “To opportunities,” I repeat, touching my glass to his bottle.

  * * *

  Swiping the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand, I swing my hips from side to side along to the local country music band currently playing live. The bar patrons stomp their feet on the wide-planked, wooden floorboards, matching the consistent and thumping beat of the drums.

  Large hands grip my hips, spinning me around so fast I almost lose my footing. I fall against Marshall, my breasts cushioned by his wide chest, and a giggle slips from my lips. For how chiseled his muscles are, he makes a surprisingly comfortable landing space.

  Strong arms slip around me, palms splayed on my lower back. The heat of his touch sinks through my tank top, burning my damp skin beneath. I avoid his gaze as our pelvises grind together, pretending if we don’t make eye contact, then this isn’t really happening.

  His hands caressing along my spine feel like they’re on my naked flesh, and images of us locked in a heated embrace invade my thoughts. I tremble with longing, an obvious shiver quaking up each vertebra.

  Marshall cups my chin, turning my face until my tentative gaze meets his astute one. He knows how much his nearness is affecting me.

  Nostrils flaring, he crashes his lips to mine. With no noticeable hesitation or uncertainty on his part to dissuade me, I dive in, joining him. Fingers sinking into his thick hair, I’m a more than willing participant. Eager and bold, my tongue meets each of his tongue’s strokes.

  Arms tightening around me, he plasters our torsos together so close I can feel the muscular ridges of his stomach. Gripping his shoulders, I rise to my toes, trying to grind against his hard length, but I’m too short. He lifts me with little effort, and my legs close around his hips, placing his cock right where I want it most.

  Kissing and dry humping fervently, we’re like a couple of rabid animals going at each other with no care for the other people on the dance floor. I’ve waited too long for this moment to let anything impede my enjoyment. I’m lost in every sensation I’m experiencing.

  Every part of Marshall has me running hot. His hands caress my flesh, firing up my nerve endings. His tongue twines with mine, igniting a blaze between my thighs.

  Similar to Pandora’s box, the lid on our pent-up desire has been opened and can no longer be shut.

  Now that we realize what we’ve been missing out on, the damage has already been done.

  Marshall slips a hand under my tank top, his fingertips running along the edge of my shorts. I moan, urging him on—exhibitionism has never appealed to me before now.

  Someone clears their throat nearby. It’s loud enough to pierce my passion-filled bubble. “I hate to break this up, but if I don’t, we’ll have patrons complaining about you two.” In a snap, Marshall’s lips are gone from mine. My eyelids raise to find one of the bouncers next to us.

  “Sorry. We got carried away,” Marshall apologizes.

  “Just keep her feet on the ground and your hands above the clothes and you should be good.” He winks before walking away.

  Glancing around, I find the majority of eyes on us. My cheeks instantly suffuse with color. I can’t believe I lost my head the moment Marshall’s masculine lips connected with mine. All reason flew out the window along with my inhibitions. He’s a danger to my rational thinking.

  He must notice how uncomfortable I’m feeling with everyone staring because his hand swallows mine as he leads me across the dance floor and out the door.

  Outside, the slightly cooler air soothes my flushed cheeks while he leads me to his Jeep. Opening the passenger door, he helps me get situated and releases my hand before closing me inside. As he moves around to the driver’s side, I make the most of the few seconds alone that I’ll have and try to calm myself down. Drawing in a long, deep breath, I slowly expel the air. When he settles behind the wheel, I’m finished but wishing I had more time to compose myself.

  I stare straight out the windshield, not yet ready to meet his heavy gaze that’s burning into my left cheek.

  “Are we going to talk about what happened?” he asks in a gravelly husk. It’s nice to know he’s as affected as I am.

  My focus remains locked on the car parked in front of us. “I wasn’t planning to.”

  “You’re sure?” He doesn’t sound convinced.

  “What’s there to talk about?” I dismiss his concern with a careless shrug, like this happens all the time. Outwardly, I may be holding it together, but I’m screaming inside my head. There’s so much I want to tell him… to talk about with him, but I won’t. I’ve yet to come to grips with what happened, and the two of us have barely started to be friends. I can’t be honest with him and confess all the thoughts racing around my head.

  How can I tell him that was the hottest kiss I’ve ever experienced?

  Or that I’ve never been so turned on in my life?

  And if we’d been someplace private he’d be inside me right now?

  Dammit. Clenching my thighs together, I curse the current state of my damp panties and my unfulfilled lust.

  Part of me wants to rewind the events of the past thirty minutes, so I can go back to the naive girl I was. While I’d always imagined kissing Marshall would be amazing, experiencing it was life-changing. My lips are ruined for all other kisses.

  Fuck me.

  Chapter Nine

  Marshall

  The entire ride home, my head spins a continuous loop with images of Clover, and my dick is still semi hard. I’ve never had so much chemistry with anyone like I do with her.

  Jesus.

  Together, we’re combustible, and I’m ready to fucking burn. Whatever consequences having her entails, I’ll deal with them another day, because there’s no way in hell I’m letting this opportunity slip away.

  Clover Jennings will be mine tonight.

  I’m on autopilot as I park in the cabin’s driveway and open her door. We walk up the front steps side by side. The innocent contact of our arms brushing is enough to make me hard as stone—anticipation is a powerful aphrodisiac—and four years is long enough to wait.

  I don’t remember unlocking the door or even closing it behind us. I’m too occupied with slamming Clover against the thick wood and plunging my tongue inside her mouth. Oh fuck. She tastes even better this time around.

  I cup her tit in my palm and brush my thumb over her taut nipple, catching her moan with my mouth. The small sound is the sexiest thing I’ve heard and it makes me eager to find out how she’ll react when I make her come.

  Gripping the bottom of her tank top, I drag it upward until our lips are forced to part. Chucking the garment over my shoulder, I lower my face and nuzzle her earlobe. She smells like shampoo and everything I’ve ever wanted. I dot a row of kisses along the side of her neck while removing her bra.

  This is the one area that I excel at multitasking.

  Head dropping back against the door, arching her back, she pushes her tits forward. Fingers thread through my hair, clutching and pulling, urging me on with an invitation I can’t resist. With no reason for us to restrain ourselves any longer, I have no intention of stopping. No one is here to keep us from tearing into each other, and there’s no one to hear us, no matter how loud we are.

  Lips closing around her nipple, I suck on the taut flesh. My hands glide over her hips and ass, mapping out her curves. They’re the same curves I’ve dreamt abou
t getting acquainted with for far too long.

  Moving over, I swipe my tongue across her other nipple before capturing it between my teeth and gently biting.

  Her fingers slide from my hair to my shoulders, continuing down until they clutch the hem of my t-shirt. “Off,” Clover orders brazenly. Heart racing, I rip the shirt over my head and throw it aside, happy to comply.

  My deft fingers undo her shorts, slipping them down her lean legs. Holding my shoulders, she steps free, leaving her naked except for the tiny blue panties she’s wearing. I draw a circle in the air with my finger and say, “Turn around.” She spins, giving me her backside. A ragged groan escapes me when I notice the thin band of lace nestled between her round ass cheeks. I’m looking at Clover in a thong.

  Christ. Someone punch me. I must be dreaming. I don’t know what other surprises await me, but I’m looking forward to finding out.

  Falling to my knees, I cup a cheek in each palm and squeeze. “Your ass is perfect.” Using the tip of my nose, I trace the line of lace all the way down to where it’s damp with her arousal. Breathing in her sweet scent, I yank the material to the side and bury my tongue in her pussy. She’s soaked for me, and I’m ravenous for her, licking up as much of her juices as I can.

  Backing up on my knees, I grab both sides of her thong, tearing the thin lace, and it falls to the floor between her legs. Gripping her hips, I whirl her around, planting my mouth dead center on her clit. She gasps, bracing herself on the door as I get down to business. Grabbing fistfuls of my hair, she grinds on my face while my tongue circles and flicks the sensitive bundle of nerves.

  “Yes,” she moans, moving her hips.

  Curving two fingers inside her, I caress the magic spot and suck on her swollen flesh until she cries out, trembling through her release.

  I shoot to my feet, the need to be inside her wet pussy is overwhelming. Shoving my shorts and boxer briefs down to mid-thigh, I lift Clover and line my cock up with her entrance. Staring down into her passion-filled gaze, I pause. Once I’m inside her, there’s no going back.

  “Please,” she begs, obliterating any shred of resistance I have. Entering her in one thrust, I’m so overcome by the sensation of having her wrapped around me, I can’t move. Nothing has ever felt this amazing… felt this right.

  I press my forehead to hers and slowly begin rocking into her.

  Clover’s legs wrap tighter around me, her fingers dig into my shoulders until her nails pierce the skin. “Fuck me.” Her words may as well be a red flag waved in front of a bull—and I’m the bull.

  Bracing her weight against the wood, her curves filling my palms, I quicken my pace. Thrusting fast and hard, each stroke rattles the door and makes Clover’s breathing more ragged. Catching her mouth under mine, we share a hot, wet kiss, my tongue mimicking my cock’s pace. When my head raises, we’re both struggling for our next inhale.

  Staring down at her flushed cheeks and hearing the moans escaping her open mouth drives me closer to release. “Look at me, Clover,” I command. Her eyelids lazily roll upward, her orbs locking on mine. “I want you to see... who’s making you... feel this way.” I pound into her with more force. “It’s me... and don’t you... fucking forget it.”

  Her pussy contracting around me, she calls out my name, making me feel like a king. I drive into her a few more times before a mind-numbing orgasm crashes into me. The pleasure is so intense, I forget everything else as my come releases inside her. By the end, I’m weak and convinced I’ve depleted my body of every ounce of fluid.

  Leaning my head on the door, I drag in a few ragged breaths before I feel myself begin to settle down. Once the blood circulates through my limbs once more, I set Clover on her feet.

  Snatching my t-shirt from the floor, I press it between her legs, trying to be a gentleman. She bats my hand away, taking care of it herself while I stand there.

  “You can get dressed,” she says, avoiding looking in my direction. I can already tell by her reaction she doesn’t know how to handle this situation.

  Slipping on my boxer briefs and shorts, I bend down and pick up her torn thong. “Sorry. Kind of.” I smirk and tuck the scrap of lace into my pocket. Later, when I’m convinced it was all a dream, I’ll have evidence proving it was real— a momento from the best sex of my life.

  “That’s gross,” she states with conviction as she finishes getting dressed.

  “There was nothing gross about what we just did. That was amazing. Don’t you think?” I ask, forcing her to talk about what transpired.

  “It was good.”

  “Good? It was fucking phenomenal. Don’t make me take you again just to prove the point.”

  She sighs. “It was awesome.” She doesn’t look or sound like someone who just had incredible sex.

  “Why do you look so miserable?”

  “I hate that you were the person I had such awesome sex with. Ugh. Why couldn’t it have been someone else?” I should probably be insulted, but instead I find myself laughing. “What’s so funny?” She scowls.

  “You are. Am I really that repulsive to you?”

  She rolls her eyes. “I think you know I’m not repulsed by you. At least not by your appearance.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Whatever. You know you’re hot,” she retorts.

  “I’m glad you think I am.”

  “I’m sure you’re glad most of the female population does.”

  “What do you mean most of them? What happened to all of them?”

  “As if I’m going to stroke your ego.”

  “My ego is not what I want you to stroke. But you can make it up to me during round two.” I wink.

  “Round two?” She shakes her head. “No way. Once is an innocent mistake, but twice would be a conscious error of ways.”

  “Let’s adjourn to the kitchen. I need a sandwich, and you look like you could use a stiff drink.”

  * * *

  “Here, eat this.” I slide a plate with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich toward her. “Those shots of rum you just consumed need to be soaked up with some food.”

  She silently complies while I finish making my own sandwich. Setting my plate on the table across from hers, I grab two bottles of water from the fridge and a bag of potato chips from the pantry. Placing everything down between us, I gesture for her to help herself to whatever she wants.

  With half of my sandwich gone in two bites, I’m already regretting not making another. I shove a few chips in my mouth and contemplate my late-night snack companion’s mood. She seems to be less distressed, but it could have something to do with the quick succession of shots she fired back as if they were a life-saving elixir.

  I hold the bag of chips toward her and she grabs a handful murmuring, “Thank you.”

  “You don’t need to thank me.”

  “Well, you did feed me. I’d probably be drunk off my ass by now if it weren’t for you.”

  “It might be fun to see that version of you.” I’d rather see her on her knees, but I’ll keep that to myself for now.

  She shrugs. “I honestly can’t say. It’d be a first for me.”

  “Maybe we should conduct an experiment and see how many shots it takes to get you there. I can document your behavior,” I suggest.

  “You mean video me doing ridiculous shit?”

  I nod. “All in the name of research, though.”

  “Sure.” Her lips press together with irony.

  I swallow the last bite of my sandwich and wash it down with a swig of water. “What do you want to do now?”

  “Go to bed.”

  I jump to my feet and hold out my hand. “Let’s go.” I’m joking, but she doesn’t know that. There’s a ninety-nine percent chance she won’t agree.

  “I meant alone,” she replies predictably, and I grin. She’s disliked me for a long time. I can’t really expect to instantly change her opinion, no matter how amazing the sex was.

  She’s been determined to despise me since I l
et my guard down and got too close to her back in high school. I was an asshole to her, and she’s been stubborn about giving me a chance to show I’m older and wiser, until today.

  “How about a late-night swim? We can finish with a quick soak in the spa.” Her face screws this way and that as she decides. If she wanted to say no, she wouldn’t be hesitating. “Come on,” I press. “Isn’t the whole point of being here to feel like you’re not missing out on your vacation?”

  Her expression shifts, becoming determined. “You’re right. Let’s do this.”

  Chapter Ten

  Clover

  “You won’t regret it,” Marshall says, and I already do. I feel a ball of anxiety and uncertainty, mixed with some anticipation sink to the pit of my stomach.

  Why did I agree to spend more time with him instead of going to bed… alone?

  Because I want more of what he gave me earlier, but I’d rather pull every one of my eyelashes out than admit that to him.

  “Come on.” He stands, and I do the same. He catches my hand as he passes by, threading our fingers together. Leading me toward the back of the house, his palm, large and warm, calls up memories of how amazing his touch felt on my body. I wish I could’ve bottled the experience so I can take it out whenever I want a repeat. Then I wouldn’t need him for anything.

  We step onto the patio and Marshall slides the screen door closed. The area is lit with strategically placed lights, giving everything a romantic, golden glow. With all the seagrass and colorful flowers blooming around the pool area, it’s a private oasis. We’re completely secluded and anything can happen. My legs tremble at the thought of what anything could entail.