by Erin Leigh
Apparently, it’s the right thing to say. She wraps her arms around me, lowering her face to mine and grinding in my lap a little. She kisses my cheek, right next to my lips. Then a little farther back and a little farther back until she’s biting my earlobe and whispering, “Why don't you show me how you feel about the no-sex thing.” She smiles against my cheek and giggles.
I get up, lifting her with me and carrying her to the bed.
When I lay her down, she looks up at me with her hair spread around her and her eyes wide and sparkling with humor and excitement.
She looks like an angel, surrounded by the white bedding. I trail my fingers up her legs, starting at her calves and creep them right to the shorts that are outlining her camel toe perfectly. Dragging my thumb over the fabric and tracing the contour of her pussy lips makes her close her eyes and moan softly. I rub right where her clit is, thumbing softly until her breath takes a turn to ragged. Then I hook my fingers into the shorts and drag them down, baring her to me.
She’s one of the few girls left in the world with some pubic hair, which I like. Bald pussy isn’t a thing for me, but I do enjoy a landing strip. Hers is light brown and trimmed perfectly.
I spread her legs, dropping to my knees to do something I never do. But I’m good at it. I was taught by a woman in her thirties when I was seventeen.
She’s open and glistening, ready for my cock. Instead, she gets soft kisses along her lips and on the inside of her thigh. She moans, not from pleasure but anticipation.
I lift a finger, trailing it from the top of her expectant slit to the bottom where I twist and insert. She tightens around my finger as I lower my mouth to her clit and suck. She makes noises I’ve never heard from her as I flick and suck, swirling my tongue at the exact pace I should.
My finger moves lazily in and out, caressing her G-spot. I increase the tempo of everything, sucking and finger fucking faster as she rotates her hips and grinds herself into my face.
She tastes like honey until she comes all over my finger, clenching down and shuddering with her long fingers gripping to the white sheets. Her body jerks and spasms. I withdraw and sit back on my heels, taking in the beauty of a girl who is ready to be fucked hard.
I grab a condom from my pocket as I pull my cock out, dragging my jeans to my knees. When I crawl up onto the bed, her eyes are still closed and her face is flushed. Her lips are parted, both sets, awaiting for the moment it will all continue.
I drag my cock up and down her slit, pressing on her entrance after a moment. I push in, faster than she has ever taken me, but she’s ready.
Thrusting slowly, I saw in and out, getting us both accustomed to the feel of each other.
Lifting her legs so her feet are on my shoulders, I reach down and grab a handful of ass cheek and lift her so she’s meeting my cock exactly. She’s taking it all.
She groans and grinds with her eyes open as she takes all of me a second time. There’s a bewildered look on her face. It’s so fucking sexy to see her mouth parted like that. I increase the speed, bouncing my balls off her ass crack, spanking her a bit with them.
Her eyes are wild and almost look worried but she’s enjoying the ride, I can see it. I lean into her feet, making her push back against me, choosing the position my cock sits as I start to pound her with my thrusts.
She cries out as she fingers her clit some. “Oh, fuck me, Brady!” Her head tilts and her ragged breaths own her as she shudders and clenches down on my cock, milking it. When she’s done, I pull out, flipping her on her stomach and lifting her ass in the air. I slide back in, not delicately at all. I thrust in, earning another cry of pleasure from her.
My fingers dig in as I pull her ass back to meet me until I am so close to coming. Instinct or something kicks in and I pull out, ripping the condom off and jerking all over her beautiful ass cheeks.
As the last drop squirts from me, I shudder and realize what I’ve done. It makes me smile as she looks back and laughs. Her face is red and her lips are puffy. “Did you seriously just Clinton me?”
“No. You need clothes to be Clintoned.” I smile back as I get it. I can have it both ways. I can fuck her dirty or I can make love to her. I can do everything with her. She’s not less from it and I don't feel less. Nothing can make her a puck fuck or a slut. No matter how we do it, she’s an angel.
“You’re cleaning that off in the shower.” She crawls forward and climbs off the bed with a mess running down the back of her leg.
“Okay.” I grin and follow her in.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The Bad News Bears
Natalie
“How did the conversation with the bosses go?” Liz looks around the apartment and nods as I break the news to her.
“Bad. Randy told me that he didn't think I would like the coldness and informality of New York, but if I wanted it, my job would be waiting for me. They both seemed really upset. They even offered me a raise. I feel bad.” And it's the truth. My stomach hurt all day.
“I’m pumped for you that you’re going to work in New York, but I’m super sad you’re leaving me.”
“Me too.” I lean in and hug her.
“We better go if we’re going to watch the puck drop.” She wrinkles her nose and walks to the door, dragging me with her. “Is Brady upset that you’re leaving?”
“No.” I lock up and walk to the elevator with her. “He’s pumped for me and doesn't even care if I’m in Hartford or not. He said it doesn't matter where we live.” The story makes me grin inside and out.
“Awwwwww, cute and sweet. Who knew?”
“Not me.” I laugh.
When we get to the arena and take our seats, he offers me a wave from the warm-up. I wave back. I can’t stop thinking about the sex we’ve been having. My cheeks flush as the past week flashes in my mind. He’s basically moved back in.
“So did you sign the contract and send it back?” Liz asks as she stares out at the game. I notice Mike waving at her, and I and wave back at him. But there’s a difference between my wave and Liz’s. And a difference between the look on her face and the one on mine.
“I did. I got a signing bonus and I start in two weeks.”
“Where are you going to live?”
That makes me smile too. “With Sami.”
Her eyes widen. “Did you tell your mom yet?”
“No. I have to go home this weekend for an anniversary party. I’m going to tell her there.”
She winces.
“Right, that’s exactly the face I made when I realized I would have to tell her. She’s going to say no, and I’m going to say that I’m an adult and it’s free to live there and I’ll be fine. And then we’ll fight and my poor dad will have to get into the middle of it and then she’ll accept it or she’ll hate me.”
“That’s exhausting.” She laughs and looks back at the ice. Her eyes follow Mike around the rink.
“What is this?” I point at him and then her.
“What?” She’s flushed. “What’s what?”
“Oh my God, you guys are fucking?” The words burst from me.
“No.” She scowls. “He took me out on a couple of dates. We have kissed a couple of times. That's it.”
My jaw drops. “Oh my God. That's serious. Hockey players don't do the dating and not fucking thing. This is a thing.”
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. It’s not a thing yet.” But her face is so cute. “I am hoping it becomes a thing.”
I feel the same way for me and Brady. I really hope that this becomes a thing for us too.
The ice clears and the music starts, getting everyone excited for the game.
When they come back out onto the ice, they get ready for the face-off.
The puck drops and the game starts. The Bears’ center wins the drop, flicking across the ice to the left winger who glides, passing back to the center and across to the right winger. One of their defensemen plays like Brady and comes forward. He plays intensely, elbowing and rea
ching in when the refs aren’t looking.
The game starts aggressively
One of our defensemen gets the puck and takes it behind the net to fling it out to the forwards. But the large defenseman from their team takes him into the boards, dropping him hard, and takes the puck.
It’s a clean hit but our guy is hurt enough that it takes him a second to get up and skate for his sub.
The sub is Brady. I guess the coach is going pound for pound with the Bears.
Brady heads right for the puck, stealing it with a light check into the boards and a pass to one of the forwards.
The big guy comes for Brady, but he doesn't have the agility Brady has so he misses and tries to play catch-up.
“Brady doesn't have the puck. Why is that guy up his ass?” Liz shouts over the rabid fans.
“I don't know.” I wish Sami were here. Maybe she would know.
The forward who Brady passed to, shoots and scores and the stands burst with life.
Everyone is patting and hugging before they get back into position.
The puck drops and the Bears win it again. Their right winger heads straight for the net, maneuvering around the defensemen and shooting. Dean deflects it easily, letting Brady take it behind the net.
But like this was the setup, the big guy is there. I don't know that any of us saw this coming. He slams into Brady, taking him down hard and jabbing him in the ribs a couple of times. Brady shoves him back, getting the puck that it looks like they are fighting to the death for. I can’t breath as the guy tries to punch Brady and the gloves come off as the sticks hit the ice
Brady shoves him back again but the guy swings out, ripping Brady’s helmet off. Brady takes a fist to the right eye. He takes the hit without even pausing and shoves back, getting him to back off, but the guy swoops in and grabs him. They struggle and it looks like they’re hugging. The other guy goes down on the ice and the whistle blows. Both teams grab their player, pulling them away.
The crowd is going nuts and both guys end up with a penalty.
Brady avoids my stare as he heads for the box with a slightly bleeding eyebrow and a terrible look on his face.
“That escalated quickly,” Liz mutters as she leans in. We both look at Brady, but he doesn't see anything but the game.
When his minute is up, the Bears will be playing short. The guy he fought got a five-minute penalty.
Brady is standing at the wall, ready to jump it the moment his penalty is up. He leaps over, skating hard and fast for the puck as it’s shot to him. Once he gets going he’s like a freight train and there’s no stopping him. He maneuvers through two players, ends up on a breakaway, shooting for the top right-hand corner of the net and scoring.
The crowd goes wild.
Liz and I are screaming and acting like crazy people.
It’s about the coolest thing I have ever seen a hockey player do.
The game stays elevated and psychotic, and I am hoarse and exhausted when it’s over.
We wait in the foyer for the guys. People passing us seem buzzed from the energy of the game.
“That was the best game I’ve ever seen,” Liz beams.
“Agreed. Except I think Brady’s going to have a black eye.” I wince.
She shrugs. “Hockey players and black eyes are kind of common place.”
“We go to my parents’ place Saturday.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Oh, the engagement party is like in two days. I thought you meant next weekend.”
“Two days.”
She rolls her eyes. “Is boys will boys not a good enough excuse back home?”
“No. Not even close. My mother is a teacher at an all-girls school. She doesn’t even like boys. My dad gets excused because he rarely argues or presents himself as a guy.”
She laughs and nods. “Sounds like my dad. He’s pretty chill.”
When the guys make their way down the hallway, I recoil at the horror of his eyebrow. It’s bruised and raw with a butterfly bandage sort of covering the really gross part. But he doesn’t even care. He scoops my up and kisses my neck. “Now that is how hockey is meant to be played.” He’s buzzing too.
I suspect the sex later is going to be mind-boggling. Maybe he’ll be dirty again. That was sort of fun.
He puts me down and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “You ready to get a drink?”
“Yeah. Vaughan’s?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He kisses my hand and smiles.
“Dude, that enforcer was a dick. I don't remember him from last time we played them.” Mitch nudges Brady who winces.
“Enforcer?” I ask as I lift Brady’s shirt to reveal even more bruising. “Oh my God, what the fuck?”
He pulls down the shirt. “All part of the game.” He sighs and kisses my head, taking a breath of me. “An enforcer is a meathead. Like a real one. He’s a guy who’s big and brawny and has some skill as a player, but mostly he’s there to terrorize the people with actual skill.”
That makes sense. It’s essentially what the guy did.
Liz scowls. “I don't think I like that role in hockey. It’s not fair. He’s just a big beast who intimidates people like a bully?”
Mike laughs. “Their choice to sacrifice a skilled player for some meat on some bones. We beat them 7–1. Clearly the gamble didn't pay off.”
“Clearly.” Liz still scowls and gives me the look.
“I like golf and tennis. No big asshole to bruise you up because they have one thought process: me want puck!” I let Brady lead me to the pub down the road.
“Me too. Or figure skating,” Liz teases.
“Oh, track and field,” I add.
“Croquet.” She laughs.
We earn a pile of sideways stares from the guys with no sense of humor.
We walk into the pub and everyone starts to cheer.
The whole bar is excited about the win and the team takes the applause well.
Mitch’s server comes and seats us, offering Mitch a look like he’s getting a bit of something later.
Mike gives me a look as we sit. “So, New York, huh?”
“Yeah, I got a job offer I can’t pass up. I’ll miss you guys.” I smile back.
Brady sits sideways on his chair and kisses my cheek. “She’s going to come and visit.” He smiles wider than he should which means trouble of the verbal sort. “I’ll withhold the loving for here in Hartford. If she doesn't come she doesn't co—”
“No!” I slap my hand around his mouth. He laughs into my palm, but I don't move it like I did the first time. His seedy spit doesn't scare me anymore.
“What?” He chuckles harder.
Mike rolls his eyes. “Luckily, our team’s meathead has some hockey skill.”
That makes me laugh. We all laugh, even Brady who nudges Mike in the ribs.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Mommy Dearest
Brady
I have one eye on the road and one on her the entire drive. I can’t stop myself from staring at her. She’s too good to be true.
The other weird thing about her is she is the antichrist of my finding other girls attractive. I see them, I register the fact there is a girl in front of me and she’s hot, but I don't really look. It’s a strange feeling, not needing to find my next piece of ass.
I don't feel the same excitement I have for her when it comes to meeting her parents. Her dad sounds cool, but her mom sounds like some kind of sea witch.
When we get to Greenwich I am immediately uncomfortable.
The houses are large and each one on an acreage making them seem more like estates. Her house is in a smaller area, closer to the school, and nowhere near as fancy as the houses we’ve seen.
In fact, it resembles my parents’ house—small and white with dark shutters on the three windows at the front of it and a tiny yard with no garage or any of the extras. The driveway just accommodates their truck and mine with what I assume is her mom’s car in the carport.
It’s clean and s
mall and obviously a homey house.
“So this is it.” She gives me a look. “Disappointed?” She laughs. “Everyone hears Greenwich and they assume I live like the Fords or the Fairfields. But I live more like the help.” She laughs again.
“My house is almost identical to this. Like I mean, the shutters are brown on my house not blue, but beyond that it’s the same. Two windows there for bedrooms and one there for the living room and the front door has almost no entrance, but we go in the side door from the carport anyway.” I point at the aspects we share.
“Exactly.” She laughs and gives me one of her stares with her eyes sparkling. “Don't be nervous, okay? She’s not so bad. She means well. She just always wanted all of us to be more than we are.”
I reach for her hand and squeeze it. “You are preaching to the choir of everyone expecting more from. I am the only more in my family. Everyone gambled on my success. My brother quit hockey when he was fifteen so I could play in the rep league instead of house. Mom could only get us to one place every week, so they chose my game and my success and now they’re all sitting back there waiting for that to cash in.”
Her eyes narrow. “I know what you mean. At least you have a skill set and aren’t just pretty and expected to marry well and befriend the rich and worm your way in.”
I keep my opinion on that to myself and say the one thing I think is true for her, “We make our own futures, Nat. We choose how this goes, and we don't owe anyone anything. Your mom might have sacrificed to get you here but that was her choice. How it pans out isn’t up to her.” I don't believe that for myself, but I do for her. I don't know why.
She shrugs. “Let’s do this. We have two hours to get ready for the party and that shiner is going to need some makeup.”
“What?” I pull back. “Bro, this is going to look the way it does now. I play sports—I get hurt. It's the way it works. I’m so not wearing makeup.” I scoff and get out of the truck. She waits there, giving me a look. “What?”
