by Anthology
BJ takes a picture of the table and sends it to Mav with the message: Y we not cool enuff 4u?
Despite the amount of food, most of it gets polished off, with the exception of some salad and two pieces of vegan lasagna. Now that we’re carb-loaded, the real drinking begins. And so do the board games. This is 100 percent my kind of New Year’s celebration, and it’s Kodiak’s favorite too. Just our closest friends. No bars, no hundreds of people we don’t know.
And I’m hyperaware that next year it’s probably going to look a lot different. While most of us have a year or two left in college, Kodiak will likely get called up to play for the NHL in June. Next New Year’s Eve, he might be playing, and there’s a chance I’ll be sitting in the stadium, watching, and I’ll get to celebrate with him afterwards.
I have no idea how many wine coolers I consume, but by the time New Year’s rolls around, I’m a little sloppy and slurring my words.
At twelve thirty Liam and Lane, Lacey and Lovey’s older twin brothers show up with Quinn and a whole bunch of people from a bar and crash our party. Laughlin, Lacey and Lovey’s older brother, saunters in twenty minutes behind them, reeking of weed and looking like he’s plotting someone’s murder. He doesn’t say anything to anyone, just plunks himself down in a recliner, steeples his fingers and starts rocking.
Two random guys I’ve never met before start chatting up Lovey and Lacey, and a girl I recognize vaguely, probably a local, heads for BJ. The way his eyes light up tells me he recognizes her too, in a good way.
Kodiak leans in and whispers, “Let’s cut out while everyone is distracted.”
“Aren’t you worried about all these people we don’t know in your house?”
He lifts a shoulder and lets it fall. “Dracula will guard the castle.” He’s referring to Laughlin. I never really made the connection until now, but he’s not wrong. Like his siblings, Laughlin has the same fair skin, but unlike the rest of his fair-haired brothers and sisters, Laughlin has dark hair. It’s almost the same color as Kodiak’s, but his eyes are a shocking, icy blue that make you feel like he’s looking inside you, instead of at you.
Kodiak inclines his head in the direction of the pool house-slash-his apartment when he comes to visit his parents. I glance around the room; everyone is occupied. Laughlin is staring at the wall. Or through it, with his X-ray vision. Seems like a good time to make a hasty exit.
I scramble to my feet and nearly topple over, my balance and coordination off. Kodiak hops to his feet and grabs me by the waist to steady me, and then we’re off to the pool house.
As soon as we’re locked inside, Kodiak tries to fuse our lips, but my mouth tastes like booze and chips. Also, I’d like a few minutes to freshen up and change into my special New Year’s lingerie.
“I need five minutes.” I push on his chest and his lips turn down in a frown. “It’ll be worth the wait.” I skirt around him and rush into the bathroom, locking the door behind me so he doesn’t get any ideas and try to follow me.
Although Kodiak is adept at picking locks, so if he really wanted to get in, he could.
Regardless, I know he’ll give me the privacy I need.
I snuck out here for five minutes earlier in the night, when Kodiak was distracted by watching hockey highlights with BJ and smuggled my New Year’s outfit into the bathroom so the surprise wouldn’t be ruined if Kodiak got to my bag before I did at the end of the night.
I quickly brush my teeth and strip down, then pull on my new sexy lacy business. It’s the same color as my name and leaves basically nothing to the imagination since it’s sheer and 90 percent lace and a few scraps of satin that cover the naughtiest of my bits. I made it myself, and it wasn’t easy because lace and satin are delicate materials to work with.
I run a brush through my hair and do one final spin before I open the bathroom door and peek out into the bedroom. The lights have been dimmed and there’re two champagne glasses sitting on the nightstand, although I’m unsure if they’re filled with actual champagne or just juice, since we’re both already pretty sloshed. Not so much that sex will be sloppy, but enough that if he made a butt stuff mention I might entertain it. For a second. Then I’d laugh in his face.
Aside from the champagne, there’s an open box of condoms, two foil squares already set on top. There are also two towels stacked neatly at the foot of the bed—Kodiak is nothing if not prepared—because changing the sheets post-sex is a pain in the ass when we’re both half-drunk.
He’s sitting on the edge of the bed. Naked. His elbows are propped on his knees and his head is bowed. I’d say he’s looking at his phone, but there’s no screen glow coming from between his knees.
“Giving your peen a pep-talk?” I ask as I take a step toward him.
He holds up one of the bananas—The Superman one— with one hand and the cape he must have removed with the other. “Wanna tell me why you’re playing dress up with bananas?”
I freeze. I’m torn between smacking it out of his hand and wanting to disappear back into the bathroom and never coming out again. Instead of doing either, I blurt, “They’re peen costumes.”
Kodiak’s dark brows pull together in a villainous-looking furrow that makes my knees weak and my vagina excited. “Peen costumes?”
I want them out of his hands before I explain any further, or he gets the idea to do something horrible, like put it to use. “Why don’t you give that to me.” I hold out my hand like I’m asking a toddler for a pair of sharp scissors.
“Did you make this?” Kodiak arches the brow with the slash mark from when he got stitches when he was young. It’s so hot. I really hope this conversation doesn’t ruin our night.
I shake my head and make a grab for it, but he holds it out of reach.
“Did you buy it?”
“No.” It comes out a meek whisper. “Just give it to me. Please.”
“If you didn’t make it and you didn’t buy it, where did it come from?”
“Can we just talk about this later? After sex maybe?” I launch myself at him and make a grab for the stupid banana, but Kodiak is much faster and much more coordinated than I am. Even when he’s drunk. And especially when I’m drunk.
He nabs me around the waist and does some roll thing where I end up under him on the bed. He straddles me, his knees on either side of my thighs and folds back on his knees holding the banana between us. His erection points at me like an accusing finger.
“Do you seriously want to dress my dick up like a Superhero?” he asks.
“No.” I shake my head and close my eyes, running my hand up his thigh, inching toward his peen. If I can distract him, we can avoid this conversation. At least until after we’ve had sex.
“Really? ’Cause the dressed-up bananas tell a different story, Lavender. What’s the deal?”
My fingers bump up against his hand and I’m forced to crack a lid. He’s no longer holding the cape and now he’s barricading his peen. I sigh. I guess I’m going to have to explain. “My mom made the costume.”
His brow furrows again.
I don’t offer any more information. It only takes zero point-zero-zero-nine seconds for him to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
Sheer horror crosses his face, and he whips the banana across the room. It slams into a hard surface and makes a squishy thud sound when it hits the floor. “What the fuck, Lavender?”
“It was clean!” I rush to explain. “I guess my mom was washing them and Maverick found them this morning before he left and he dressed up all the bananas we had and there was a banana orgy happening in the dining room and then my dad walked in and freaked out, but he missed two and I brought them here so I could show you that we’re really not all that weird with the duct taping you to your computer chair and me riding dildos in your lap. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t even know what to do with all of that information.” He runs a hand through his hair. The other one is still raised in the air like he’s afraid to touch anything with it. “I
mean, I knew your parents were weird, but that’s next level.”
“I know. I just thought it would be funny to show you. I don’t honestly want to dress up your dick with anything but lipstick rings when I blow you. Which I can do, right now, if you’re interested.” Anything to change the subject, especially since we’re both naked and thankfully Kodiak’s boner hasn’t deflated despite the really awkward conversation we’re having.
“I need to wash my hands first,” he declares and rolls off the bed, hopping to his feet in one smooth surge.
He crosses over to the kitchen and finds the discarded cape, stuffing it into my bag so there are no reminders of the weirdness left as a distraction. I also rummage around in my bag for lipstick, which I rarely use, apart from when I’m going to give my boyfriend a blowy. I quickly apply a coat while Kodiak uses his forearm to turn on the water. He spends a good minute washing his hands and I just stand in the middle of the room waiting.
He turns off the tap and dries his hands on a fresh dishtowel and turns to me. Which is when he finally notices what I’m wearing. His eyes rove over me on a slow, hot sweep and his erection, which had started to deflate a little, springs back to attention.
He raises one hand, running his fingers through his thick, dark hair, his bicep flexing deliciously. I let my gaze move over him in a slow, appreciative sweep. He’s beyond beautiful with his arctic-green northern light eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips. He’s both severe and pretty at the same time. Everywhere he goes, he turns heads, not just because he’s otherworldly beautiful, but his size also makes him stand out. And when he’s naked, he’s a glorious masterpiece, all ridges and planes and defined muscles.
“How did I miss this?” he mutters with a head shake. The question seems rhetorical, and I’d like to leave the answer where it’s lying on the floor on the other side of the room.
“You look fucking incredible.” He bites his bottom lip. “When did you have time to make this?”
I tug at the hem brushing the top of my thighs and do a little twirl. “I made it yesterday.”
“So that’s what you were busy with?” His gaze roves over me hotly. “Will you spin again for me? But not so fast this time?”
I turn slowly, giving him my back. The top is lacy, with a thin band of satin attaching a sheer mesh flowing train embellished at the hem with another band of lavender satin and dark purple lace. An inch of the curve of my bottom is exposed, and the sheer fabric allows the dark purple thong to peek through.
He makes a sound that’s part groan and part growl.
I look over my shoulder, giving him a coy smile. “You like it, then?”
“I love it. And you.” His fingers slide under the material, and he grips my waist, carrying me across the room to the bed. He turns and sits on the edge, moving me to straddle him as he shimmies back until his head rests on the pillows.
He takes my face between his palms and kisses me softly, slowly. And I’m relieved that my lingerie has proven to be exactly the distraction he needs. “What about the blowy?” I ask around his tongue.
“Later. Maybe. First I want to be inside you.”
After the long night of deprivation, I half expect him to devour me. But he doesn’t. Instead, he breaks the kiss and takes his time running his fingers over the delicate lace and satin, trailing along the edge of the bra to the small bow tied between my breasts. His fingertips drift along my stomach, past my navel to the lacy panties. I made them too, although they’re finicky as hell and a lot of work for some tiny scraps of fabric and lace.
Still, Kodiak seems to appreciate my efforts, so it’s worth the hours spent on the sewing machine.
He drops his head and presses his face into my cleavage, then turns to bite the exposed swell. He opens his mouth over my lace-covered nipple and sucks gently. I run my fingers through his thick, dark hair, pushing it back off his forehead and gripping the satiny strands in my fingers. I drop my own head, breathing in the scent of his shampoo as he groans his appreciation and murmurs about wanting to sleep on my tits.
While he kisses and nuzzles, his hands roam over my curves. While he touches and caresses, I wrap my hand around his thick erection and brush my thumb over the head on my stroke up, dragging the wetness from the tip down the shaft. We get lost in making out, the feel of each other, and the building desire to connect in the most intimate of ways.
He doesn’t take off my negligee. Instead, I shimmy out of my panties and toss them over the edge of the bed. I straddle his thighs and slide forward, my breasts pressed against his chest. Kodiak plucks a condom from the nightstand, and I take it from him. Tearing the foil wrapper open and freeing the latex ring. He grips his erection in his fist, and I roll it down his length. Our foreheads meet, both of us looking down between us as he slides the head of his cock between my lips—the lower ones—and over my clit. I roll my hips, in love with the anticipation as much as the actual act of sex. Eventually he slides low and nudges my entrance. I sink down slowly, taking him inside inch by delicious inch until my ass rests on his thighs.
I let my eyes fall closed for a moment, reveling in the fullness and how good it always feels to be connected to him in this way. I allow my eyes to flutter open and meet his. I feel him, not just inside my body, but in my heart and more deeply, twined with my soul.
Sex with Kodiak is more than just physical. When we’re like this, I feel everything he feels: the headiness of desire, the struggle to stay in control, the nearly painful draw we have to each other. Lust expands and sweeps over me as we move together and find a steady rhythm. It only takes minutes for me to clench around him, and then he flips me over and pushes up on one arm, his hips pumping, strokes faltering as he gets closer to his own orgasm.
“I love you more than life,” he murmurs.
“I love you more than words,” I whisper back.
He pushes in one last time, as deep as he can, and his eyes roll up briefly before they return to mine.
I stroke his cheek as he shudders, cock throbbing inside me.
He claims my mouth, tongue slipping inside for a few drugging, languorous sweeps before he pulls back and brushes the tip of his nose against mine. “This is our first New Year’s together since we were kids.”
“It is,” I agree. When we were young, our families used to get together every New Year’s, and all of us kids would hang out, watch movies, and play games just like we did tonight. But for a handful of years, Kodiak disappeared from those events. Because of me. Because he was afraid of the damage he thought he was doing to me.
Until I reconstructed myself and he did the same, and we found our way back to each other. Stronger and so much better prepared to love in the way that soul mates do.
With our whole hearts.
Want more of these two?
You can read their love story in LITTLE LIES
Read Kodiak’s parent’s love story in A Lie for a Lie, the first book in my All in Series
Read all about the banana costumes and all the other weird stuff Lavender’s parents get up to in Pucked, the first standalone in my Pucked Series.
Connect with Helena Hunting
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Other Titles by Helena Hunting
PUCKED SERIES
Pucked (Pucked #1)
Pucked Up (Pucked #2)
Pucked Over (Pucked #3)
Forever Pucked (Pucked #4)
Pucked Under (Pucked #5)
Pucked Off (Pucked #6)
Pucked Love (Pucked #7)
AREA 51: Deleted Scenes & Outtakes
Get Inked
Pucks & Penalties
All IN SERIES
A Lie for a Lie
A Favor for a Favor
A Secret for a Secret
A Kiss for a Kiss
LAKESIDE SERIES
Love Nex
t Door
Love on the Lake
SHAKING UP SERIES
Shacking Up
Getting Down (Novella)
Hooking Up
I Flipping Love You
Making Up
Handle With Care
THE CLIPPED WINGS SERIES
Cupcakes and Ink
Clipped Wings
Between the Cracks
Inked Armor
Cracks in the Armor
Fractures in Ink
STANDALONES
The Librarian Principle
Felony Ever After
When Sparks Fly
Starry-Eyed Love
Little Lies (writing as H. Hunting)
FOREVER ROMANCE STANDALONES
The Good Luck Charm
Meet Cute
Kiss My Cupcake
Copyright © 2021 Debra Anastasia
All rights reserved
Published by Debra Anastasia
Skating on the Stars is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author’s twisted imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
