“No, you said it.”
She furrows her brow. “Huh. Weird. I was hoping you like to take your shirt off at home.”
“I see.” I drain the last of the Guinness and set my bottle on the end table next to the chair I’m sitting in, adjacent to the couch. “I do like to take off my shirt when I’m at home. And sometimes more.”
“Perfect.”
“You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” I ask as I stand up, unbutton my shirt, and shrug it off my shoulders.
She eyes my bare chest, her smile slowly spreading. “I…what?”
Instead of sitting back down, I drape my shirt over the chair, walk towards the couch and sit down beside her.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Abby.” I put my hand on her knee, which is so small my palm covers it entirely.
“Thank you.”
“I’d love to spend tonight with you doing all the dirty things we’re both imagining right now.”
Her eyes sparkle as she leans forward and sets the glass back on the table. “Perfect.”
“But—”
“Ah, crap.” Her shoulders slump in defeat. “You’re not about to ask me to pee on you, are you?”
My eyes widen in surprise. “Pee on me? Uh, no, please don’t.”
“What is it, then? Pain? Footlong strap-ons? Group sex?”
I clear my throat, trying not to laugh. “I actually left my footlong strap-on at home tonight.”
“You’re laughing at me.”
“I…might be,” I admit.
“You said but.” She points in my direction. “That usually means, ‘good thing you’re sitting down, this is about to get freaky.’”
“Does it?”
“You’re a professional athlete. I wasn’t thinking about what that means for me.”
“And what does it mean?”
She shakes her head and gives me a weak smile. “That you’re probably used to making two women come while simultaneously swinging from a chandelier.”
I laugh at the visual. “Nah, that sounds way to tame for me.”
“I’m serious, Luca.”
I sit back, enjoying her earnestness. “I can see that.”
“I’m not a groupie.”
“Good, because I’m not into them.”
“Do hockey players have groupies?”
I shrug. “Some do, sure.”
She gathers her long, wavy blond hair in both hands and lays it all over one shoulder.
“Is it hot in here?” she asks, fanning herself with her hand.
My pants tighten around my crotch as I watch her, my erection reminding me to hurry the fuck up. She really is the most beautiful woman I’ve been around in a long time.
“Not really. Might be the wine. And that’s actually what my but was about.”
“Okay, I’ll let you finish your but this time. No interruptions.”
“I was gonna say, ‘but I need to know you’re sober enough to agree to this and not regret it tomorrow.’”
A single note of laughter bubbles out of her. “Regret you? I seriously doubt that, Luca. Unless you ask me to fist you or something, I guarantee I won’t regret this.”
Damn. This woman is so confident and direct. It turns me on hard.
“Well, I guarantee I’m not into fisting.”
“Good.” She eyes my chest as she slides out of her jacket, revealing long, toned arms.
I force myself not to respond to her unspoken invitation just yet.
“Also, I want to be upfront about the fact that I’m not looking for a relationship.”
Abby cringes. “Ugh, me either.”
“Really?”
“I’m just in town for work. Let’s have a night of fun and then go back to our regularly scheduled lives in the morning.”
“And you’re not married?”
Something flickers across her face, but she shakes her head. “No. You?”
“Never married and not planning on it anytime soon.”
I take her expression when I asked if she was married to mean she’s recently divorced. But hey, a woman trying to work an ex out of her system is okay by me.
“In that case—” I’m cut off by Abby climbing onto my lap, unzipping her skirt in the back so she can hike it up around her hips.
She moans softly as she rubs herself against my thick cock. I slide my hands up the backs of her thighs and grip her ass, pressing her against my shaft. Feels like fucking heaven.
It’s been a few months since I got laid, and my whole body responds to Abby’s lips on my neck. I take in her soft, sweet scent as she kisses me. I let one of my hands roam up her back, my fingertips trailing over her spine, and into her hair, which I’ve been wanting to touch since the moment I laid eyes on her.
Abby pulls back, her eyes wide with alarm. “Do you have condoms?”
“I’ve got a couple, yeah.”
She exhales with relief and then shimmies off my lap. “Want to go into the bedroom?”
“Yes, please.”
On the way from one room to the other, Abby wiggles out of her skirt and pulls her sleeveless shirt off over her head. Her body is lithe and so damn sexy. My cock is throbbing just from looking at her.
“What do you do for a living?” I ask as I wrap my hands around her narrow waist.
“I’m in sales.”
I nod with appreciation. “I can see that. I think you could sell me just about anything.”
I easily lift her into my arms, her legs instinctively wrapping around my waist. My mouth covers hers, our tongues tangling and exploring in a passionate first kiss.
Abby’s not like any of the other women I’ve been with. She’s not seeking warmth and affection from me. We’re both all hands and mouths, groping and groaning as we discover new spots to touch and kiss each other.
As soon as I lower her to the bed, Abby pulls off my pants and underwear, pushing me to my back and wrapping her mouth around my cock. I close my eyes and get ahold of myself, because it’s so fucking good I could come in her mouth right now if I let myself. Her mouth is hot, wet and on a mission.
I hang on, her sucking and stroking keeping me right on the edge. When she looks up at me through hooded eyes, I have to stop her. I’m too close, and I’m not a man who comes first.
I flip her onto her back and tug off her panties, her small, neatly trimmed pussy nearly making me blow my load yet again.
Fuck, is it gonna feel good to sink balls deep in there.
But first, I kiss her thighs and lick her sweet pussy, which tastes amazing. She’s wet and so fucking responsive, her fingers wound tightly around my hair and her hips rocking against my face. Once I start sucking her clit, she comes fast, pulling my hair and panting my name as she does.
She drops her hips back to the bed and murmurs, “Fuck me, Luca. Please.”
Within thirty seconds, I’ve gotten a condom out of my jeans and rolled it on. I rub the tip of my cock up and down her wet opening, making her moan.
“Either put your cock in there or my fingers are going in,” she says in challenge.
“You’re used to getting your way?” I ask as I sink all the way in her in a single thrust.
“Ohh, shit.” She grabs my shoulders and lets out a ragged exhale. “That’s good…more.”
“More?” I pull my hips back and then thrust myself forward, closing my eyes.
She’s tight and wet and it feels so fucking good. I didn’t realize how much I needed this.
“Oh, God. Please don’t stop,” she begs.
And I don’t. I fuck her mercilessly until we both come, the headboard banging into the wall as our mingled groans fill every inch of space in the room.
It was an intense fuck, and I have to lay back and rest for a minute after. It wasn’t physically tiring, but I swear her pussy drained every stored-up drop from my cock. I’m drained in the best way.
Still not seeking warmth or cuddles, Abby traces her fingertips up and down my body until I’m rested
enough that she can touch my cock again. It hardens immediately from her touch.
“Seems almost unfair for one man to get your looks and this nice fat cock,” she teases.
“Was it unfair when it was inside you?” I tease back.
She gives me a playful smile and kisses my chest. “Mm-mm, no. It seemed quite fair about then. But remember, with great cock comes great responsibility.”
My single note of laughter is cut off by a groan as she kisses lower, near my belly button.
“Is that so? Sounds like an ancient proverb.”
“It is.”
I tip my head up from the mattress, looking at her. “And what responsibility do I have, Abby?”
Her lips curve up in a smile that I can barely see in the darkening room. “You have a solemn duty to make me sore tomorrow. Not just my legs, either. Make my pussy so sore I remember you in every meeting I sit through tomorrow.”
She wraps her lips around my cock, taking it as deep as she can. I groan hard and grip a handful of bedsheets.
Fuck. This woman just might kill me tonight. But what a way to go.
Chapter Five
Abby
Something’s not right. I sense light behind my closed eyes, and I sit up in bed.
This is weird. The sun is already up. I haven’t slept past sunrise in a long time. As I realize my breasts are exposed and Luca’s asleep beside me, I pull the sheet up to cover myself.
Where the hell was the alarm on my phone? I was planning to work out this morning and had it set for five. My nakedness isn’t as important as finding out what time it is right now though, so I drop the bedsheet and get out of bed, walking over to the chair in a corner of the room where my purse is sitting.
When I pull it out, I see that the alarm has been going off for more than two hours. My phone was just buried in my purse and I couldn’t hear it.
Ugh. I have just enough time to get showered and ready for my first meeting. No workout today.
A smile slowly spread across my lips as I remember last night, which I’m well within my rights to call a workout. Sex with a pro athlete is next level. Not only is Luca’s body crazy muscular and toned, he has boundless endurance.
And those hips. The man can fuck, and my soreness all over is a blissful reminder of our night, which only ended a few hours ago.
I walk over to the side of the bed and look down at him. He’s sleeping on his stomach, his chiseled arm wrapped around a pillow and his short, dark hair a sexy mess.
I need to get in the shower. And even though every intuition I have about Luca is good, I’m not about to get in the shower and leave him out here alone. My purse is here, and my work laptop. Besides, he has to go soon anyway.
Damn, I wish we had time—not to mention another condom—to get in one last round.
I sit down at the end of the bed, hoping to wake him gently. It works.
“Hey,” he says, his voice deep and groggy. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” I respond.
He takes in the view of my body for a few seconds, a smile playing on his lips.
“What time is it?” he asks.
“7:15.”
“Shit, I gotta go.”
He throws the coves aside, and it’s my turn to take in the view. That body is sure to feed many a fantasy for me on those rare nights when I have to turn to self love to scratch the physical itch that makes me achy and antsy.
“I’ve got practice at eight,” Luca says as he pulls his boxer briefs on. “Sorry I have to run.”
“No problem, it works out well because I have my first meeting at eight.”
I actually can’t believe my luck. There’s no time for the snuggling and sweet words I don’t do, so I don’t have to explain anything. Luca was an absolutely perfect one-night stand.
“Hey, can I get your number?” he asks as he picks up his pants from the floor.
Cue sound of a record screeching to a halt. So much for perfection.
“Um…why?” I ask awkwardly. “I thought we both wanted just a one-night thing.”
His eyes crinkle at the corners as he grins. “I’m not proposing here, Abby. I just thought maybe if you’re here for work again sometime, we could do it again.”
Just the sound of him saying ‘do it again’ creates a pool of warmth between my thighs. I will be in Chicago a lot for work, and it would be nice to have more mind-blowing sex with Luca. More than nice, actually.
But trading numbers has gone wrong for me before. What starts as casual sex turns into affectionate texts and dinner invitations. I don’t date. I’m not sure how to explain this to Luca, and I also don’t have time since I’ve got 40 minutes to get to my meeting and I’m still standing here naked and smelling like a night of dirty, delicious sex.
“How about if I take yours?” I offer.
He huffs out a note of laughter. “You don’t have to, Abby. I didn’t mean to…I guess I misread things last night.”
“No, you didn’t. Last night was amazing. I’ll definitely text the next time I’m here.”
I grab my reading glasses from my purse, slide them on, and pick up my phone. “Okay, go ahead.”
Luca recites his number and when I look up after entering it, he’s adjusting his crotch.
“You look fucking hot wearing nothing but those glasses,” he explains with a sheepish grin.
It’s my cheeks that warm this time. It’s not embarrassment, but something I can’t quite place. But before I can respond, Luca’s walking over to give me a quick kiss.
“I had a great time, Abby.” He kisses me again. “Thanks for picking me up.”
I laugh and his bright blue eyes sparkle. “Oh, I picked you up? I thought it was mutual.”
He shrugs. “I noticed you sitting at the bar as soon as I walked in last night, but I could tell you wanted to be left alone. I wouldn’t have approached you if not for that douchebag.”
“I did want to be left alone,” I admit, “until I saw you. But you were cagey about it.”
Luca shakes his head, his dimple making an appearance when he grins. “I wasn’t cagey.”
“You said you didn’t want the drink at first!”
He turns serious as he puts his hands on my hips, his touch on my bare skin sending a shiver down my spine. “I wanted it, Abby. I just didn’t want to be the asshole who picked you up thirty seconds after what’s his name tried to.”
“You’re a gentleman,” I say softly. “Most of the time.”
Luca scoffs again. “Most of the time?”
Quickly, I say, “I’m talking about in bed, Luca. When you…and anyway, I liked it. I loved it.” I shake my head, clearing away the warm fuzzies. “Look, I have to get in the shower. And you have practice.”
He gives me one last, quick kiss before walking out of the bedroom and heading for the front door.
“I’m staying in here ‘til the door is closed since I’m naked,” I call out, ducking into the bathroom.
“Bye Abby,” Luca calls back. “Have a good day at work.”
“You too!”
I’ve got my toothbrush pasted and I go to work brushing as I hear the door close. I walk through the suite’s front room and lock it, smiling as I do. There’s just something about Luca that makes it impossible not to smile.
My Chicago project manager, Stephen, looks at me over the rim of his glasses at the conference table we’re sitting at.
“I’m not following, Abby. Since when is coming in under budget a bad thing?”
“You changed the design specs without my approval. Changing the scope of work is different than coming in under budget.”
Stephen nods and takes off his glasses, taking a few seconds to think before he speaks. Probably wise since he’s already wearing my patience thin.
“You hired me to manage this project,” he finally says.
“I’m aware.”
“And in our contract it states that I can approve change orders.”
I arch my br
ows in surprise. “That wasn’t a change order; it was pretty much an entirely new set of plans.”
“Right, to make that store fit in better with the community aesthetic.”
“The plans had already been approved by planning and zoning, though.”
Stephen leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “I was hearing blowback from other business owners about the plans, though.”
“Really.” It’s more of a statement than a question. “You didn’t mention anything to me.”
He gives me another shrug, his eyes bulging with what appears to be frustration. “That’s because it’s your job to run Cypress Lane and it’s my job to oversee construction of these new stores.”
Wow. Not only is he telling me what my job is, he’s using a condescending tone to do it. Mansplaining 101.
Three years ago, before my life was blown to shreds, I would’ve smiled and smoothed things over. I’d have told Stephen, gently, that he messed up and explained how to do better next time.
Before Abby was sweet and patient. Deferential to the point of being a bit of a doormat at times. But after Abby knows what a battle it often is to be treated as an equal in a man’s world. After Abby has no tolerance for being talked down to.
“You know, Stephen, I think I’m going to take on project management of these new stores by myself.”
His eyes somehow bulge further. “Whoa, what? Are you…firing me?”
“Unless you resign within the next ten seconds.”
“Are you…?” He shakes his head and slumps back in his seat. “Abby, I think we just had a misunderstanding, and I apologize for my role in that.”
“I appreciate that, but I still think it’s best that we part ways.”
Stephen narrows his eyes. “This is exactly where your reputation for being a micromanaging shrew comes from.”
I furrow my brow in confusion. “When you were trying to get hired you said I had a reputation for being a tough negotiator and a closer.” I emphasize my point with air quotes.
“Christ,” he mutters. “Give me a few days to review the contract and I’ll let you know.”
“Let me know what?”
“If I’d rather resign or be terminated.”
Luca: A Chicago Blaze Hockey Romance Page 3
