Their kiss unbroken, she slid her hands up inside his shirt, exploring the hot, rock-hard ridges of his abs and chest. He shuddered at her touch, and as the butterflies inside her took flight, she felt dizzy and sexy and so, so powerful.
She wanted him. All of him.
Henny pulled away just long enough for them to tug his shirt off and toss it onto the table. She reached for his belt buckle, but he stopped her, shaking his head. “You first, beautiful.”
Leaning back on her hands, she lifted her backside up from the table as Henny tugged her leggings off, kissing every inch of her exposed skin on the way down.
She sat on the pool table in her pink floral panties and a zebra bra that had no business being on the same body at the same time, trying to hold in her stomach, trying not to think about her thighs, but Henny seemed oblivious to her flaws. His gaze swept her from head to toe, taking in every inch, every curve, every feature.
When he finally met her eyes again, Bex saw only desire. Only appreciation.
She unhooked her bra, let it fall to the table, her breasts heavy, her nipples stiff and aching with need.
“You’re amazing,” he said, brushing his knuckles along her collarbone. “Everything about you is beautiful.”
He leaned in again, kissing her throat, her jaw, his hand skimming over her breasts, sliding down between her thighs. She parted for him easily, arching her body toward his touch as he teased her through the damp silk of her panties. But this time, when he dipped his fingers beneath the lacy edge and pushed through her soft hair, her breath caught, and the thin barrier holding back her thoughts threatened to crumble.
This is it. We’re really doing this. What does it mean? Is this the beginning of something uncharted and wild and incredible, or the end of something real and familiar and solid? Can it be both? Do these things ever work out? Is it too soon for me? Too late for him? What if—
“Bex,” Henny whispered, his hands going still. “You’re a million miles away.”
“I’m… sorry.” She smiled, curling her fingers around his biceps. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
“No, you’re here.” He traced a line across her forehead with his thumb, offering a small smile. “Trust me, I know the look. I see it on the ice every night.”
Bex smirked and crossed her arms over her chest, covering herself. “The look of half-naked women who can’t keep their hands off you?”
“That’d be a game-changer, wouldn’t it?” Henny laughed. “I’m talking about the players. You start overthinking it, analyzing everything, plotting out your next move, trying to predict how the other guy is going to react. You know what happens next? You lose the puck or crash into the boards.”
“Except in this case, the other guy is my super hot best friend that I’m about to get naked for. The puck is our friendship… or maybe that’s the boards? And I’m worried about everything crashing and… I don’t know. This is all so… wow. Also, my bra and panties don’t match. Like, at all. Okay. Clearly I need to stop talking.”
Henny shook his head, a seductive smile edging across his face. “You think I’m super hot?”
“I think if missing the point were an Olympic event, you’d get a medal.”
“I got the point, Bex. And trust me when I say I don’t give a single fuck about your undergarments. They’re not part of the naked equation. In fact, I’m trying to figure out why you’re still wearing them.”
Bex raised her arms like a champ. “And he takes the gold, ladies and gents!”
“Hey.” Henny swept the curls from her face, his eyes filling with concern. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
Bex nodded. That was a question she could answer without thinking.
“Okay,” Henny whispered. “Do you trust me?”
“Absolutely.” That answer hadn’t required thought, either. Henny was making this easier on her by the second.
“Close your eyes,” he said, kissing her temple. “No peeking.”
Bex did as asked, fighting off the chill he left in his wake as he rustled around for something on the other side of the room. His jacket, maybe?
“Hen?”
“Right here.” He returned quickly, flooding her senses with his clean, spicy scent. His hands brushed her shoulders, then her ears. “Earbuds. Okay?”
She nodded as he fitted them inside.
“Lean back,” he said. “Keep your eyes closed. Sink into the music. Focus only on the feel of my mouth.”
Her heartbeat kicked up a notch. “Your mouth?”
“Remember what I told you on the phone that night?”
A fresh wave of heat swept her body. “Which part?”
“No more touching,” he said, and Bex knew without looking at him that he was smirking. “Only my mouth. I want to know what you taste like when I make you come.”
Breathless, Bex scooted back on the pool table, lying back on top of their shirts and the threadbare green felt. Seconds later, music drifted from the earbuds. Slow, sexy, wordless beats eased the tension in her muscles even as her body heated with anticipation.
Stripped of sight, lost in the pulse of the seductive music, Bex was blissfully disoriented. When Henny’s lips brushed her shoulder, she gasped; her sense of touch was magnified by a thousand, compensating for the senses she’d temporary blocked.
The next kiss fell on her hip bone, lingering only a moment before drifting down the front of her thigh. He kissed the inside of her knee, trailing up her inner thigh, and then he was gone.
Another kiss breezed along her collarbone. Her neck. Teeth nipped playfully at her earlobe. She felt a soft kiss on her chin. On her wrist. A flutter of lips and tongue and breath around her belly button.
Bex arched her hips, desperate for friction, her core aching.
The music slowed, the bass deepening, throbbing in time with her heartbeat. She raised her arms over her head and gripped the edge of the table, afraid she’d lose control, afraid she’d slide her fingers between her legs and give herself the sweet release Henny was denying her with every torturous kiss.
She felt him shift closer, his arms braced on the table around her shoulders, heat radiating from his skin. Silky hair tickled the tops of her breasts as his mouth closed over her nipple, his tongue hot and velvety, his expert caress bringing her so close to the edge she was certain she’d explode. Just when she thought she couldn’t take another moment, he moved to her other breast, teasing and sucking, and when he grazed the stiff point with his teeth, Bex cried out in ecstasy, her thighs clenching tight, everything in her cranked up from simmer to boil.
No longer able to resist touching him, Bex lowered her arms and threaded her fingers into his hair, pulling him close, arching up off the table, urging his mouth lower. Henny kissed her belly, blazing a trail from one hip bone to the other as he slid the panties down her legs. She kicked them free, and then she was bare, the air on her damp flesh a reminder that she was utterly exposed to him.
But there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Nothing to fear or regret or analyze or debate. Because this was Henny. The boy who’d always looked out for her. The man she trusted with her life. With her body. With her heart.
“I’m here,” she whispered, more to herself than to Henny, and in that moment she knew it was true. There was nothing left between them now but a promise.
The music in her ears was liquid and endless, her skin tingling as she anticipated his next kiss. Without warning, Henny’s mouth closed over her naked flesh, tongue teasing the sensitive bud as heat gathered between her thighs, rushing outward like a river threatening to burst through the dam.
Bex’s thighs began to tremble, and Henny pressed closer, tasting her, dipping his tongue into her wet heat, stroking her slow, then fast. Plunging in deep, then pulling back, his hot breath teasing her as he slid inside again, faster now, faster, harder…
Bex cried out in sudden, shocking ecstasy, her thighs clenching around him, hips thrusting as wave after wave of pure pleasure
rushed through her body. She had no idea whether her voice was a scream or a whisper, whether she was still on the table or even in the pub. She felt like she was hurtling through space, tumbling, spinning. All that existed for her now was Henny, his perfect mouth, the soft glide of his tongue, the heat of his breath as he soothed her through the final aftershocks.
Bex lay there, lost in pleasure, floating on a current of bliss for two more songs before she finally opened her eyes. She found Henny standing at the edge of the pool table, bare-chested but still in his jeans, watching her intently. The desire in his eyes was vicious.
Bex yanked out the earbuds. She didn’t need any more tricks, any more sensory deprivation. She was fully present now, here in this sinfully seductive moment with her closest friend, and she wanted all of him—the sight of his rumpled hair and swollen lips, the warmth of his touch, the taste of her arousal on his tongue, the sound of his ecstasy reverberating through her bones as he plunged inside her, again and again.
She sat up and reached for him, pulling him close, kissing him desperately as she hooked her fingers around his belt.
“I want you inside me,” she breathed, unhooking and unbuttoning and unzipping and reaching into his pants, fisting him, stroking him. He was hard and ready, shuddering at her touch, his kiss ferocious.
He brushed his fingers over her clit, teasing her with soft circles that wound her tight once again.
“No… fair,” she breathed. “You said you weren’t using your hands.”
“Fuck that. If I can make you scream like that again, I’m using everything I’ve got.”
“Please,” she moaned, her head falling forward as the heat crested between her thighs. “I don’t… I don’t want to come again until you’re inside me.”
Henny moaned softly, brushing her lips with a gentle kiss. His eyes were kind and reassuring as he searched her face, a fiercely tender moment in the middle of a raging storm. “You’re sure?”
“Don’t make me say it again,” she breathed.
Nodding, he fisted his cock, teasing her slick folds. “I brought condoms this time, if you want me to—”
“Have you been with anyone else since that night?”
“Fuck no.”
“Neither have I,” she said, then giggled. Of course she hadn’t been. “It’s okay,” she said, urging him closer.
Lowering his mouth to her breast, Henny sucked her nipple as he finally, blissfully, perfectly slid inside her.
Oh, God…
Bex cried out again as her body stretched to accommodate him. He pulled back slowly, then slammed into her, a deep delicious plunge that filled her completely. Sitting up again, she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Deeper.
The rough denim of his jeans scraped the back of her thighs, but she didn’t want to stop, not even to finish undressing him. Instead she rode him, slowly at first, then faster, harder, gripping his shoulders as the two of them found their rhythm together.
Everything about it was crazy. Intense. Insane. Henny? Oh my God. Henny. A week ago, Bex would’ve rolled her eyes and scoffed at anyone who suggested something like this could happen. She’d been deflecting jokes and assumptions like that for their entire relationship.
Yet as crazy and bizarre as it seemed, it also felt inevitable, as if the long and winding road of their friendship had always been leading them here, right to this moment, this beautiful explosion of passion and heat and a feeling deep down in her bones that Bex wasn’t ready to name.
Still gripping Henny’s shoulders, Bex kissed his jaw, his neck, his throat, relishing in the salty taste of him, the strong pulse of his heartbeat throbbing beneath his skin. He whispered her name, rolling his hips, fingers digging into the flesh of her ass, both of them quickly losing control.
With a resounding cry, Bex finally shattered, tightening around him as he rode her hard and fast. Seconds later, Henny’s muscles went rigid, his orgasm rampaging through his body, spilling into her as he shuddered and growled with pleasure, leaving them both breathless.
Henny nuzzled the space between her shoulder and neck and pulled her close, his bare flesh warm and slick. They stayed like that until their heartbeats finally slowed, two bodies happily spent, holding each other up as they always had.
When she was certain she could stand on her own two legs, Bex disentangled from his embrace and hopped off the table, smiling as she wordlessly gathered up her clothes. She stared at Henny openly, wanting to hold on to this image, to remember it always.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice scratchy and sexy. His hair was sticking up everywhere, his lips puffy, pants still hanging off his hips. His goofy grin lit her up inside.
For the first time since she’d moved back to Buffalo, Henny looked truly happy.
Bex pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, then grinned right back at him. “More than okay.”
Chapter Fourteen
Despite multiple attempts at the bathroom sink, Bex had no luck washing the smile off her face. Fee would figure it out the minute she saw that grin, but Bex was too blissed out to care.
Back in the main room, Henny waited for her at the bar, his clothes rumpled, hair still adorably disheveled. Bex took a moment to admire the view before joining him. No matter how real it had felt in his arms, on that pool table, under the hot press of his body, she still couldn’t believe it had actually happened.
I just had the most incredible sex of my life—with my best friend.
She pressed her fingers to her lips, puffy but still smiling, and headed over to the bar, perching on the stool next to him. His eyes were dark and intense, his breath quickening as he reached for her face and he leaned in close, brushing her lips with a kiss as soft as a whisper. She parted her lips, welcoming the soft stroke of his tongue.
He pulled back entirely too soon, his eyes suddenly serious. “Is this really happening?”
Bex cupped his face, bringing his mouth back to hers. He didn’t pull away this time, just threaded his hands into her hair and kissed her, teased her, traced her lips with his tongue until her whole body felt like it was on fire.
Holy hell, that man could kiss.
Unfortunately, Bex had to work. And Henny had to rest before his game. And whatever was supposed to happen after that, when the clock struck midnight and Bex turned back into a pumpkin and their fairytale finally ended… No, she wasn’t ready to think that far ahead. Not while the ghost of his touch still lingered on her flesh.
Breaking off the kiss, she hopped off her stool and slid behind the bar, filling up two glasses with the water gun. Playtime was officially over.
For now.
“Gallagher called a meeting before tonight’s game,” Henny said ominously, pushing his phone across the bar. “PR’s involved.”
“PR?” Bex narrowed her eyes. “Please tell me there wasn’t another fight.”
“Believe it or not, this one ain’t my mess.” He tapped the phone screen. It was open to a YouTube video—Bex recognized the location immediately.
“That’s the pub,” Bex said, tapping the play button. The video was chaotic and loud, Bon Jovi’s “I’ll Be There For You” competing with laughter and wolf whistles from the crowd, and it took her a minute to figure out what she was looking at. “That’s… oh my God.”
“Yep.”
The video was uploaded late last night, but it already had half a million views. In it, two of the bridesmaids from the bachelorette party were stretched out on their backs on the pool table, giggling their asses off while Kooz, Jarlsberg, and Kenton took turns doing belly shots and… wow. Other not-so-family-friendly things involving whipped cream and body parts.
And how did Roscoe end up shirtless in a red lace bra?
And more importantly, where the hell had Bex been during all this?
Oh. Right. Making out with my best friend.
“Who knew my rickety old pool table saw so much action?” Laughing, Bex handed back the phone. “Okay, the video’s a little
obnoxious, but what’s the issue? They’re all consenting adults. And the guys didn’t miss practice this morning, right?”
“No, but with PR involved? I’m guessing it’s an image thing. Far as management’s concerned, it’s not just a couple of consenting adults blowing off steam. It’s Team Tempest showing the world that off the ice, we’re nothing but a pack of drunk-ass frat boys.”
“Well, you kind of are,” she teased.
“No, those guys are the frat boys. I’m the bad boy. Remember?” Henny arched a brow, the glint in his eyes wicked. “Or do you need a reminder?”
“Pretty sure my aching thighs are reminder enough.”
He grabbed her hand and leaned across the bar, kissing her neck. In a gravely voice that made her shiver, he said, “Have I told you that I love being the reason for your aching thighs?”
She tried to answer, but Henny was working his way up to that spot behind her ear, and she forgot how to speak.
“If you keep making that sound,” he warned, “I’m never leaving this bar.”
“Then we’d better stop,” she breathed. Her thighs clenched, her core flooding with a fresh wave of desire.
“Probably.” Another kiss, another low growl vibrating across her skin.
Bex gripped the edge of the bar, her knees weak. “If I make you late,” she panted, “PR will kill me.”
“Only if you put this on YouTube.”
“Don’t even joke about that!” Bex laughed, finally breaking away from his addictive kiss. “We are not making a video.”
“Roscoe ruins everything.” Henny settled back down on his stool and grabbed his water, chugging down half the glass before he finally came up for air. “Bright side? Tempest PR might hate it, but this shit’s publicity gold for Big Laurie’s.”
“I can see it now,” she said, coming out from behind the bar. “Happy hour specials: half price drinks, all-you-can-eat wings, get licked by your favorite hockey star!”
Down to Puck (Buffalo Tempest Hockey Book 2) Page 11
