Breakaway (The Rule Book Collection)

by A. M. Johnson

  “Tell me to stop.” Mark uttered familiar words.

  There was no reason to hesitate this time. No barriers. No honorable intention. Just raw and basic need.

  “I can’t.”

  His eyes held mine, a hungry smile lifting the corners of his lips, and when he went to unhook the button of my jeans, I let him.

  I can’t….

  Oh. Fuck.

  Neither could I.

  My dick was heavy between my legs as she pressed her ass against the hard ridge in my slacks. I let the tips of my fingers linger along the soft curve of her stomach. The light touches I’d been doling out weren’t enough for my greedy fingers. I lifted her shirt a little more.

  Shit.

  I loved this fucking shirt and how it barely fit, looking a size too small stretched across her full tits. Seeing her in this shirt, with my name on it, had given me more gratification than it should have. I was still amped from the win, from scoring three fucking goals in a row, and now—Stevie. I wanted to lay her out on my bed, wearing only that t-shirt, and lose myself between her legs.

  I thumbed her nipple with my right hand as my left molded to her waist. The line of her custom-made to fit my palm. Stevie was too touchable as I buried my nose into the crook of her neck. I found it sort of perfect the way she always smelled like summer. The heat of her skin mimicked the rays of the sun. Burning me so fucking slowly. My left hand inched back down to the opening of her jeans, and when she turned her head again, I kissed her. Like this, her plump lips on mine, it was easy to forget that we were standing in the middle of my apartment, easy to slip my hand beyond the flimsy layers of denim and cotton, to sink my fingers inside her. I hissed at how wet she was, how fucking warm. The tips of my fingers circled her clit as I groaned into her mouth. She arched her back, silently asking for more but I wasn’t that easy.

  “Tell me how far, Stevie. How far do you want to go?”

  I pulsed my fingers and she whimpered, “I need you to… keep touching me.”

  “Like this?”

  She answered me with a soft gasp as I pushed deeper.

  The quiet sounds of her need pumped the blood through my veins in a furious rush. My dick was throbbing, aching as I tugged her jeans down with my free hand. I took a small step back to admire the way the top of her round ass was exposed.

  Closing off the space I’d created, I kissed her neck, my lips resting against her skin. “You have the best ass.”

  Stevie’s pliable posture stiffened.

  “It’s…” she stuttered.

  My hand no longer between her legs, I turned her at the waist to face me. The blush of her cheeks spilled all the way down into the collar of her t-shirt. Her eyes were a little wild, but I could see a hint of fear in the dark depths.

  “Too fast?”

  Stevie lowered her eyes, pulling at the hem of her shirt. Was she trying to cover up? Damn. I’d pushed her too hard, made her nervous.

  “We don’t have to do anything. I’m sorry I—”

  “No…” Her eyes darted to the ceiling, an unsure smile breaking across the delicate features of her face. “It’s… maybe a little too bright in here.”

  A relieved breath exhaled past my lips in the form of a chuckle. “I like the lights on.” I held her hips with firm hands. “I want to see you.”

  Her nose crinkled as her brow furrowed. “I’m not used to lights… I don’t know, Mark. You’re… you and I’m…”

  “Sexy as fuck.” I smirked when she finally looked at me again.

  “I’m too curvy.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?” I let my hands skate around to the spot where the swell of her ass met her thighs and she hid her face in my chest. “I like how my hands have something to grab.” I demonstrated my sentiment by squeezing her ass. It won me a smile, and I continued, “Stevie… there’s no such thing as ‘too curvy’.” My hands were under her t-shirt again, trailing them over her hips and stomach. “I like this.” I pressed my fingers into the flesh of her hips, my thumbs sinking into the softness of her belly.

  She lifted her gaze, and despite what I’d said, doubt creased her brow. “I feel like I’m too much woman for you.”

  “Ouch.”

  She laughed. “I’m serious.”

  “You just bruised my ego. You think I can’t handle you?” I lowered my hands to the back of her thighs. Instead of stealing another squeeze, I flexed my arms, easily lifting her off the ground high enough that she was able to wrap her legs around my waist.

  She squeaked and slapped my shoulder. “Oh my God. Put me down.”

  “I got you.”

  Too much woman? Fuck that.

  “Mark. Put me down before you hurt yourself.”

  Clutching the side of her thighs, I turned toward my bedroom ignoring her protests. She tried to shimmy her way out of my hold, but it only made me laugh. “Stop, Stevie. You’re gonna make me drop you, and I’d rather worship your ass, not break it.”

  Stevie wound her arms around my neck, letting her fingers glide into my hair at the nape. She locked her eyes on mine, her cheeks crimson as she said, “Kiss me.”

  The two words rendered me motionless.

  Our lips met and moved with a fluid rhythm. Lazy and languid, I wasn’t in a hurry. Her self-doubt was in vain. I could hold her like this all fucking night if I wanted to.

  I broke our kiss, my voice rough as I spoke, “Like I said… I got you.”

  She gave me a grin and I headed toward the bedroom. I heard the distinct sound of Atlas’s footsteps on the hardwood floor following behind me and she giggled. “I almost forgot he was here.”

  I turned to look at Atlas from the doorway of my room. He ducked his head, his tail wagging like crazy. No way, cock blocker. “Go lay down.” He didn’t budge. “Give me a break, dog.”

  His expression was bored, but he trotted off toward the living room and I bumped the door shut with my foot until it latched. The heat of Stevie’s breath warmed my neck as she giggled again. It took me only a few strides before I was at the foot of my king-sized bed. Stevie unhooked her legs from my waist and I lowered her down and onto her back. The humor around her eyes dimmed into something more serious as I stared at the way her shirt had ridden almost all the way up to her perfect tits, and how her jeans had fallen open, exposing a peek of shortly trimmed hair.

  The room had lighting built into the back wall and it reflected onto the ceiling, casting very little light into the room. I’d left the runners on before I’d gone to the rink today and the soft glow illuminated Stevie’s supple, cream color. She covered her stomach with her hands as I leaned down to grab her hips. I pulled her, not-so-gently, to the edge of the bed.

  “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But you’re not allowed to hide, Stevie. I love your fucking body and I want to see it.”

  She parted her lips, the rise and fall of her chest quickened as she nodded and lowered her hands to the tops of her jeans. My breath caught in my throat as she worked the denim down along with her underwear. They fell to the floor and I kicked them to the side. My hands found a new favorite spot as I kneeled onto the carpet, digging my fingers into the meat of her inner thighs, I spread them open. My mouth watered as I imagined what she’d taste like, how she’d sound.

  “Is this okay?”

  She exhaled a shaky breath. “Yes.”

  I explored the arc of her hips, her stomach. Goose bumps scattered under my fingertips. She was exactly how I’d wanted her the first night. Sprawled out on my bed. Meek and needy. I was tall enough, even on my knees I could kiss her stomach, kiss that slight dip along her hip bone. Her body relaxed, her fingers threading into my hair as I inhaled her scent with my first taste. I groaned as the salty flavor flooded my senses. She murmured my name, shamelessly grinding her pussy against my face as I licked slow strokes. I almost chuckled at the cute fucking sound she made when I nipped her clit.

  When her thighs started to shake, she sat up, framed my face with h
er hands and pulled me to her mouth. Stevie’s breathing was frantic, uneven, as she kissed my wet lips. I wondered what she thought about her own taste, if she liked it as much as me. My deep growl echoed in the room as her hand fell to the bulge in my pants, rubbing up and down the stone-hard length. Our teeth bumped in an aggressive and hurried kiss as I dropped my hand between her legs. We both tipped our heads and watched as I slid my fingers inside her. She leaned back onto her elbows and, as much as I liked that shirt, I wished I’d taken it off. I wanted to see those fuckable breasts sway as she rolled her hips, as she worked herself against my hand, the motion pulling my fingers in and out.

  My jaw clenched. “Fuck yourself with my fingers, Stevie…” Her eyes closed as I curled them inside her. “I want to watch you come on my hand.”

  I held my hand still and watched as she let herself go. Her hips trembled, her hands fisting the comforter on my bed as her head fell backward. She cried out, the sound of it was almost mournful, exhausted. It filled my lungs with a deep-seated pride as the warmth of her release coated my fingers. I took my hand from between her legs and she sat up, curling her arms around my neck. She cradled my head, pulling me into a kiss.

  There was nothing ladylike about the way she kissed me, her teeth on my lips, her nails digging into my skin. She was stealing my breath, and I wanted her to have it. Her fingers relaxed, idly playing with a few strands of my hair as she came down from the high of her climax. Her lips sipping instead of swallowing. The gentle pull and tug thing she did with her mouth made my dick jump. Stevie was the first to break the kiss, bringing her nose to the tip of mine. Our breath mixed into the violent space between our mouths. Her hands were limp on my shoulders as she inched closer to the edge of the bed. She licked her lips as she leaned back, meeting my heated gaze. Her pupils were blown wide open, her hair a little messy, and her cheeks on fire.

  I brushed a wayward piece of her hair from her forehead and smiled as I said, “You look unbelievable right now. So damn beautiful.”

  The right corner of her lip was pinned between her teeth, her eyes flashing down and then up again. A shy smile forming, she brought her hands to my belt. “I’m feeling underdressed.”

  Fingers shaking, my nerves frayed and raw, I fumbled with his buckle. Gentle eyes grounded me as he cupped my cheek and kissed me. My scent lingered and I craved the way I tasted on his lips. Everything before tonight had been clean and narrowed lines. Sex had been one dimensional. Tonight was messy, fast, and I liked the disorder. My heart was a drum roll, the pressure building inside me, for once there was no set plan, and I didn’t care. I wanted him.

  His thumb traced softly against my cheek as he stood. His hot eyes held me steady. Mark moved my hands from the clasp of his belt and unlatched it. He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off. My tongue felt thick in my mouth as I admired the smooth muscles of his chest. The tattooed sleeves of his arms stopped at the shoulder. The rigid landscape of his stomach was only interrupted by a set of numbers, 42.995640 and -71.454789, the ink spelling out in sequence along his left lower rib.

  I sat there, quiet, the tips of my fingers tracing the numbers, filing away my questions for later as his skin puckered under my touch. And it was only a second, maybe two, but the hairs on the back of my neck stood, goose bumps raging along my limbs when he spoke, “Hey.”

  He held his hand out, his smile spreading, curling up on the left. The warmth of his palm gave me the courage to do what I wanted. Instead of standing, I lowered myself down to my knees and he released his hold. I heard his rushed breath as I unzipped his pants, and he helped me as I pulled them and his underwear down to the floor. Mark only took a small step backward to push his discarded clothing away. The motion distracted me, and when I raised my eyes, I had to stifle my gasp. Mark fully naked was a shock to the system. The sharp lines of his lean hips poured down into athletic thighs that framed the hard length of his cock. He was perfect, beautiful. I licked my lips, hiding how they trembled. Insecurity flickered through me and my pulse soared until it pounded its way to my temples.

  Mark ran the fingers of his left hand through my hair as he tipped my chin up with his right. My hesitant eyes raised inch by gradual inch until I met his vulnerable gaze. “God. I…” His jaw was tight. His voice was clipped, strained as he whispered, “Fucking want you.” And the sound of it, the way he stared at me like I could ruin his entire world, it gave me power.

  I wasn’t the only one baring it all. I answered my doubt by wrapping my fingers around his length. He groaned, pushing his fingers into my hair, holding the back of my head. His hand fisted through the strands as I licked the salty bead that had formed on the tip of his dick. His skin was velvet against my tongue, and my eyes fluttered closed as I pulled away. My body was humming for him.

  “Do that again.” It was more of a plea than a command.

  I pressed a kiss to the head and smirked at the pulse in his jaw. “Do what?”

  A low sound rumbled in his chest, his grip pinching at my scalp. “Put your mouth on me.”

  The desperate desire in his eyes begged, and I fell into the sound of his growl as I took him into my mouth.

  His control slipped as he groaned. “Fuck, Stevie…” Mark’s hips gradually began to move, driving him deeper into my mouth. I felt greedy as I took it all. “Yeah… just like that.”

  Everything I’d usually worry about displaced into the white noise of the bedroom. There was nothing but the feel of carpet against my knees, Mark’s pleasure, and his guttural groans. I stared at him from under my lashes; watched as his eyes closed, and how his bottom lip raked through his teeth as I teased, licked, and sucked. My climax had cooled, but this view, his head tipping backward, his body above me, it fueled the throbbing between my legs and I was wet for him again. I was smoldering, slow and hot, and when he slid his other hand into my hair, his hips jerked. Something more primal than a growl erupted past his lips and his chin dipped. His eyes locked on mine and the bittersweet taste of him flooded my mouth.

  Mark held my chin with his left hand as I swallowed and pulled away. He swept his thumb across my lips and then my cheek. His eyes were glazed with spent lust, his touch—tender. The tips of his fingers ran the length of my neck to the top of my spine. The bones of my body felt light, like a sponge, soaking up his affection.

  “I want to kiss you,” he breathed his wish and I granted it.

  His hands grasped the bare cheeks of my ass as I stood, hauling me against him. He kissed me with impatient lips that slowed to an open mouth sizzle. His tongue taking its time teasing mine. I moaned into his mouth when his right hand found its way between my legs and he hummed his approval when he found me ready.

  Three orgasms later, and two for him, we were both naked, a mess of limbs on the top of his comforter and we hadn’t even had sex yet. Just hands and mouths and fingers. God, he had glorious fingers. My legs were noodles, my lungs on fire as I gasped his name. Mark gently bit one nipple and then the other before dragging his hand from between my thighs.

  “I love your tits,” he mumbled against my skin as he licked circles around the dusky pink peaks.

  I ran my hands into his hair. My fingers combed through the slight curls as I laughed. The man was practically suffocating himself between my breasts. “I think you better come up for air.”

  He groaned and rested his cheek against my belly. A little over an hour ago, I would’ve flinched. Having him that close to my biggest insecurity would’ve freaked me out, but the way he treated me, leaving no curve uncharted, my hang-ups no longer felt valid.

  “Can’t a man just be content?” His hands were firmly in place on my hips, the rough pads of his thumbs running circuits along my skin.

  “You played a hard game, won a hat thing, you should at least eat dinner at some point tonight.”

  He chuckled and rolled his body. Lying next to me, he propped onto his elbow. “A hat thing?” He raised his brow. “It’s awesome that you know nothing about the game.”


  I didn’t think it was “awesome” I had no knowledge about something he was so passionate about. “I wish I knew more. Wouldn’t you like me to know what it means when you do something noteworthy?”

  “I like that I get to teach you.” His broad smile had my own lips spreading across my face.

  My heart did a little shimmy. “Teach me something.”

  He rested his palm on my tummy. “What do you want to know?”

  I turned my head to face him, his cinnamon eyes twinkled, and a light laugh parted my lips. “The basics.”

  “Okay.” His fingers traced absentminded S shapes along the curve of my stomach. “Each team has six players on the ice. One goalie, three forward players, and two defensive players.”

  “Forward… That’s you?”

  He huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, babe, that’s me.”

  I playfully smacked his cheek. “Don’t make fun of me.”

  He leaned down, his lips less than a millimeter from mine. “I’m sorry.” His smile was repentant, kissing me once and then again before he barreled over onto his other side. He opened his bedside table and rummaged around in the drawer.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, but too lazy, drunk on three orgasms, to care enough to investigate or move for that matter.

  He answered me by moving back to his previous position, holding up a blue Sharpie with a wicked grin on his lips. He pulled the cap off with his teeth and I might’ve giggled when he spit the cap to the side.

  “Mark?” I drew out his name. The long syllable brimmed with caution.

  He snuggled in a little closer, his right hand hovering over my stomach. “You wanted to learn, right?”

  I closed my eyes, scrunched my nose as the cold tip of the marker touched down below my breasts. His quiet laughter opened my eyes and I lifted onto my elbows.

  “Stay still,” he teased, and I made a show of holding my breath.

  He drew what looked like a sloppy hockey rink across my stomach. Including two goalie nets, one right below and between my breasts, and the other above my pubic bone. He was busy drawing circles, his concentration something to take seriously, and I had to stifle a laugh when his tongue darted and rested on the bow of his lower lip.