HOOKED: Boston Terries Hockey #4

by Chance, Jacob

  “I need to go change into my bathing suit,” I blurt out, stalling for time. I’m not sure what good putting a bikini on will do. He got me out of my clothes easy enough earlier.

  “Lucky, don’t be shy. There’s no one around but you and me.” He sets his phone down on a chaise. “Besides, it’s not like I haven’t already seen you naked.” His bold statement annoys me.

  He moves to the edge of the pool, kicking his sneakers off and peeling his t-shirt over his head. Swinging the garment like a lasso, he launches it at me. It lands just shy of my feet. “Your turn, Lucky.” His cocky grin notches up my ire.

  Walking toward him, I curve my lips flirtatiously and add a little wiggle to my steps. His eyes light up with excitement before darkening with desire as I approach. Taking my time, I trace the V-shaped neckline of my tank top with my fingertips, drawing his rapt gaze to my cleavage, where it remains. Laying my palms on his solid pecs, I shove with all my might. Marshall topples backward, his wide-open eyes and mouth showing every bit of his surprise before he hits the water with a sizable splash.

  I wish I could’ve taken a picture at the same time to capture his expression when he realized what was happening. It would definitely be worth a thousand words. I’m betting Marshall could contribute some colorful language toward the total word count.

  He surfaces, shaking hair and water from his face and then proceeds to remove his shorts and boxer briefs, throwing them onto the stone patio next to me. Water droplets splash onto my legs, but I barely notice. I’m too busy staring at Marshall’s naked ass as he swims toward the deeper water. The pool lights act like a spotlight, highlighting each ripple of his muscles as he turns to face me, effortlessly treading water. His body is a work of art, comparable to famous sculptures you’d find in a museum.

  I’m barely holding the moisture pooling in my mouth from dripping down my chin. Pushing him into the pool no longer seems so amusing.

  Swallowing hard, I war with myself. Should I throw caution to the wind and join him? Or should I walk back inside and pretend we haven’t already been intimate?

  “What’s it gonna be, Lucky? Am I swimming alone or are you joining me?” His dark gaze challenges me.

  I’m on the edge of a giant precipice, and the decision I make could drastically affect me. If I join him in the water, I’m saying yes to a lot more than skinny dipping. I’m accepting that we’re going to have sex, and not just for tonight, but for the duration of our vacation.

  If I walk inside the house, I’m setting a boundary—a well-defined line he and I can’t cross. Moving forward, the two of us will only be platonic friends. There’ll be no more touching, no more kissing, and no more orgasms. Boooo, give me all the orgasms, my body shouts in protest.

  But if you play it safe, I won’t get broken again, my heart reminds me.

  He’s hot, and the sex was amazing. Why not just have some fun while you’re here? My brain adds its own compelling argument to the mix.

  Marshall’s always been the one guy I wanted but couldn’t have. I’ve always bemoaned my attraction to him but could never seem to shake those feelings, no matter what I’ve tried. Maybe I should just use him for great sex and fuck him out of my system. I’ve tried ignoring him as much as possible for four years and that hasn’t worked. Why not try immersing myself into a week-long sex fest?

  Maybe it’ll be like the time I gorged myself on jelly beans and threw up—I haven’t eaten another once since.

  My mind made up, I shake my flip flops from my feet. Undoing the cutoffs, I let them fall to the stone and step free of them. Drawing the tank top over my head, I drop it on the discarded shorts. Hands on my hips, I pose in my bra and panties. “How’s the water?”

  Marshall swims to the edge of the pool, smiling like a shark about to get ahold of its prey. “Why don’t you join me and find out?”

  Undoing my bra, I let it fall down my arms and onto the pile of clothes.

  “You’re beautiful, Clover.” His tone makes it evident that his need for me is as powerful as mine is for him. Wiggling the panties down my hips and thighs to the patio, I push them aside with my foot. Gripping the edge of the pool with my toes, I balance, letting his hungry gaze drink me in from head to toe. He makes me feel beautiful. Pushing off the balls of my feet, I dive headfirst into the pool.

  Marshall meets me underwater, enfolding me in his long limbs. He kicks us to the surface and claims my lips in a searing kiss. My arms closing around him, I squirm until his hard cock is trapped between us.

  His head raises. “Are you trying to get this over with quickly?”

  I shrug. “I can’t help myself. It’s there and I know what it can do.”

  “I think you meant to say you know what I can do. A magic wand is useless without a talented wizard wielding it.” His smirk is pure arrogance, but surprisingly, it doesn’t bother me like usual. I’m sure having all six foot-two inches of him slippery, wet, and bare between my legs has dulled some of my irritation.

  He swims us to the shallow end and carries me up the stairs. Continuing over to a free-standing canopied swing, he drops onto the cushion with me straddling his lap. His hands slick my hair back and cup my face while he stares deep into my eyes. “You look like a mythical sea nymph come to life. I think you’ve cast a spell on me. You’re all I can think about.”

  Oh my God.

  He swallows my shocked gasp with his mouth. No one has ever said anything so sweet to me before. My throat tightens as my chest fills with emotion. Stomach fluttering like a million tiny butterflies were set free at the same time, I’m overwhelmed by the sensation. It’s one I could become addicted to.

  One of his hands slides back, cradling the nape of my neck, the other cups my jaw, holding me captive under his sensual kiss—a willing captive. Our tongues twist and whirl around each other, fanning the embers of passion until we’re set ablaze.

  Reaching between us, I grip his cock in my tight fist. He releases my mouth, a ragged pant escaping his lips. Sliding my hand all the way down his length, my eyes never leave his face. I want to see the pleasure I evoke in him and revel in the power.

  “Don’t stop.” His expression is a cross between pain and ecstasy.

  My hand climbs back up to his tip. “Who said I was stopping?” I ask, my thumb smearing the wetness I find before caressing him some more. Watching the bliss on Marshall’s face has my confidence growing with each stroke.

  That’s not all that’s growing.

  His cock is long and thick, the veins distended as if he can’t take much more. I smile at the thought of him exploding in my clutches, and I don’t want to take my eyes off him in case it happens.

  He catches my hands, prying them free. “I need to be inside you, now.” Rising up on my knees, I position myself so the head of his cock is knocking on my entrance, just waiting to be let inside. With one hand holding his cock and the other on my hip, Marshall guides me down his length until he’s buried inside me.

  “Yes.” I moan the word out long and slow, throwing my head back. Marshall’s lips land on the base of my throat, his tongue licking a fiery trail up my neck as I slowly ride him. The swing slowly begins to rock back and forth as I grind down onto him with each stroke, working my clit just right.

  Placing biting kisses under my jaw, he coasts over my chin, trapping my bottom lip between his front teeth. He nips and tugs on the pink flesh before dragging his tongue along the inside edge, soothing the sting.

  Frenzied for another taste of him, I bury my fingers in his hair and fuse our mouths together for a tongue-battling and teeth-clanging, savage kiss.

  Marshall tears his mouth free, licking the taste of us from his bottom lip. With his heated gaze locked on mine, and his fingertips digging into my hips, he pulls me down onto his cock as he thrusts up into me. The powerful motion sends us rocking to and fro on the swing. He picks up the pace, repeatedly raising and slamming me down onto him with enough force to raise the front legs of the swing. Neither of us pays
any attention to anything but the incredible sensation of us being joined together.

  So close to coming, I can feel my orgasm starting to creep up on me. My eyelids start to drift shut as I prepare to lose myself in the impending ecstasy.

  “Look at me, Clover,” he orders, and I instinctively obey. Mouth falling open, a flush washes over me like a hot wave against my chest. I fall off the edge into the almost unbearable pleasure of my release, trembling from head to toe.

  “Christ,” Marshall husks. He drives into me twice more, briefly pausing, and then his hips jerk as he expels the rest of his orgasm inside me.

  And then the world shifts. For real. We tip backward, crashing to the ground along with the entire canopied swing. I start to laugh and Marshall grimaces, yelling, “No.” He slips free of me. “Ouch. You’re not allowed to laugh while I’m inside you.”

  I laugh harder, gesturing at our current position with the swing lying flat on its back on the grass, and he joins in.

  “Talk about perception-altering sex,” he jokes, looking up at me. I snort and remove a blade of grass from his hair.

  “You really rocked my world,” I retort, giggling.

  He barks out a laugh. “I did, literally.”

  “Did you hit your head?” I ask, struggling to my feet.

  “I don’t know. I was still coming when we fell, and my brain was only capable of thinking about that.” He scrambles up from the awkward position like it’s no problem. Catching hold of my wrist, he pulls me into his embrace. His arms squeeze me tight. “That was even more amazing than our first time.”

  “It was,” I murmur against his chest, totally content to stay where I am.

  “What do you think the odds are that we can outdo both times with our third try?”

  “There’s only one way to know for sure,” I say.

  “I like what you’re thinking. How about we get this swing back on its feet and see what we can get into.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Marshall

  After the pool and swing incident, we both showered and put on dry clothes. “Here.” I hand Clover a bottle of water, taking one for myself. “Are you hungry? I’m sure I can find some snacks.”

  “It’s three in the morning. I never eat this late.”

  “Are you hungry?” I repeat my question.

  “Maybe a little,” she replies, removing the cap and taking a sip of water.

  “Well, I’m starving. Sex makes me ravenous.” I rub my stomach.

  “I make a mean grilled cheese if you want me to make you one,” she offers.

  “I haven’t had one of those in ages. I can’t even remember the last time.”

  “Seriously?” she asks, and I nod. “I figured that’s a staple of every college guy’s diet.”

  “Nah, that would be ramen and deli meat. I eat a lot of peanut butter and jelly and fluffernutters too.”

  “Do you order out all the time?” she questions, setting her bottle on the counter.

  “The guys at the frat get pizza more than anything, but for the most part we fend for ourselves. If someone cooks dinner, we all eat. There’s never leftovers at the frat.”

  “None of you look like you’re underfed, so I guess you’re managing.”

  “Are you calling me fat, Lucky?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Stop fishing for praise. The fact that we’ve had sex twice should be enough of a compliment.”

  “Ouch. Rub it in why don’t ya. I know I’m reaching with you.”

  “That’s not what I meant. I was trying to make a point that I don’t sleep around. You’re the first non-relationship sex I’ve had.” I’m pleasantly surprised to hear this.

  “So, what you’re saying is I’m special.” I grin.

  “If that’s how you want to interpret my words, go for it.”

  “How else should I take them? You said I’m the first in that regard, which makes me feel special. I’m actually honored that my dick was allowed to get down and dirty with your pussy.”

  “You should be,” she sasses, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

  “I already said I am. See, we can agree on something after all.”

  “Miracles do happen,” she drolls.

  My stomach growls loudly. “So, how about that grilled cheese?”

  She laughs. “I guess you weren’t joking about being hungry.” Moving to the fridge, she rummages around grabbing what she needs. “How many sandwiches would you like?”

  “Two, please.”

  “You keep the bread in the fridge?” she asks.

  “Yeah, it keeps longer if we do. Which makes sense since we’re not here all the time.”

  Watching Clover cooking for me is fascinating. She’s all business, efficiently setting slices of bread on one plate and cheese on another. I could watch her all night—then again, I already have and plan to continue. But what guy doesn’t want a beautiful woman preparing their food?

  I’m tempted to sneak up behind her and kiss her neck, but we’re not at that casual intimacy point yet. She’s not comfortable with me touching her outside of a sexual situation. While I’d like to have my hands on her in some way twenty-four-seven, it’ll have to wait—for now.

  Clover shuts off the stove burner and plates the sandwiches, cutting them into quarters. I jump to my feet and grab everything from her. Setting the sandwiches down on the table, I pluck a square from a plate and take a bite. “Mmm, so good,” I mumble with my mouth still full. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She nibbles on a quarter while I remember to check the pantry for chips. Returning to the table with a small bag for each of us, I take the seat next to Clover.

  We eat in silence, and I’d like to say it’s comfortable, but with the lack of neighbors and traffic that we’re used to having in the city, it’s eerily quiet. I pull up a playlist on my phone and get some music playing. “The End of the Innocence” comes on, and I catch Clover’s lips twitching with a smile.

  “What?” I ask.

  “This song seems appropriate.”

  “I didn’t take your virginity.”

  “No, but you’re kind of corrupting me with the casual sex thing.”

  I flash a grin, pleased to hear this. I plan on corrupting her in many ways and to be the only one to do so. “Don’t forget the alcohol you were drinking earlier,” I point out.

  “See? Alcohol, sex, what’s next?”

  “A blowjob?” I aim a hopeful glance at Clover.

  She ducks her chin, looking up at me. “Maybe.” My dick begins to harden at the thought of her mouth wrapped around me.

  I’ll take maybe as an answer. Maybe doesn’t mean no fucking way. She probably wants to, but she doesn’t want to commit in case she changes her mind.

  I nudge her arm with mine. “What about anal?” I’m messing with her—kind of. But if she says yes, then it’s on.

  Her eyes open wide. “Hell no. You picked the wrong girl if you’re looking for back door stuff.” She’s so adorable, I can’t help but laugh. “I’m serious, Marshall. Don’t even think of going near my ass with your dick.”

  “I can’t promise I won’t think about it. You did just mention my dick being near your ass, so, of course, my brain went there, drawing a very vivid image of just that.”

  She shivers. “I’ve never done that and I don’t think I will ever want to,” she confesses. “I can’t imagine it’s good for the girl at all.”

  “I’ve never tried it, but I’d like to.” With you. I’m not sharing that bit of information with her. She wrinkles her nose, letting me know my reply displeased her. “Are you done with your sandwich?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Yeah, it’s all yours.”

  “Thanks.” I shovel down the remaining two pieces and the rest of her chips while she looks on with wonder.

  “Where do you put it all?” she asks.

  “I think most of it goes to my cock,” I deadpan.

  She titters. “Of course you do. You and e
very other guy in the world thinks that.”

  “Yeah, but in my case it’s true,” I state.

  She shakes her head. “Spare me.”

  The first notes of Tom Petty's “American Girl” echo out of my phone. I push my chair back, rising. “Come on. Let’s dance. This is one of my favorite songs.” She shakes her head. “Don’t make me dance by myself.” She doesn’t look convinced, so I yank her from the chair and into my arms before she can disagree. Taking her hand, I spin her around the kitchen until she’s dizzy and laughing. The two of us break off, doing our own thing and then meet back up for the remainder of the song. Clover’s cheeks are flushed, and she radiates happiness—exactly what I was hoping for. I press a quick kiss on her lips, and the next song starts. We dance until our stomachs hurt from laughing and we’re ready to fall into bed.

  I make sure the house is locked up tight and shut off the lights before we trek up the stairs. Clover starts toward the room she’s staying in, but I pull her along toward mine.

  “What are you doing?” she asks, pausing in the doorway.

  “I want you to sleep in my bed.”

  “You could try asking me instead of dragging me along like a caveman.”

  “Clover, will you please spend the night in my bed with me?”

  “Nope.”

  I scowl, my happy mood taking a nosedive. “What? Why not?”

  She laughs. “I’m joking. I’ll sleep here.” She goes to enter the bathroom and my arms slip around her waist.

  “Very funny, Lucky.”

  She looks over her shoulder at me. “I thought it was.” Releasing hold of her, I slap her ass.

  “Hey.” She rubs her right cheek, and my chuckle follows her into the bathroom.

  Roaming around my bedroom, I’m at a loss of what to do while I wait for her. Getting undressed seems like the best idea, so I strip to my boxer briefs.

  When Clover leaves the bathroom, I step in to brush my teeth. Looking at myself in the mirror, I notice that I look happy and it’s not a forced smile. The happiness even reflects in my eyes. I always wondered what that meant, but now I’m realizing it’s a real thing.