Glancing around the kitchen, I try to come up with something. Oh, right. I have more than one bathroom in the house. “You can use Bianca’s shower.”
Kingston moves around the bar once more, this time turning me on the stool until I’m facing him. He crooks his finger beneath my chin and tilts my head so that I’m looking up at him. “We’re gonna shower together.”
He really is bossy.
I really like that.
But I’m not going to add any more air to his already overinflated ego.
In fact, I’m not going to say anything, because Kingston’s mouth moves closer to mine until he is hovering a fraction of an inch away, our breaths mingling. He smells like bacon. Probably not a good thing that I find that sexy as hell.
“I’m gonna kiss you, little girl.”
Why do I find it hot that he calls me little girl? He’s been calling me that for years. It isn’t because he’s that much older than I am. And truthfully, I’m not all that little. Five seven qualifies as average. Maybe.
I don’t know.
Nor do I care, because heaven help me…
Kingston’s mouth is on mine and he’s kissing me again.
And just like the other times, I’m helpless against it.
His mouth is warm, his lips firm yet soft, his tongue wicked as it easily glides over my bottom lip, then slips into my mouth. I tentatively stroke it with mine, sighing as I give myself over to him. The pace is slow and steady but soon intensifies. Fearing I’ll fall off the stool, I reach for him. Or that’s my excuse, anyway.
His abs contract when I slip my hand beneath his shirt. I feel warm skin over hard muscle. I give myself permission to roam, promising I’ll cut this off before it escalates out of control. Then it’s too late because I’m caught up in his kiss, in how easily he manipulates my mouth with his, in the sexy groan that rumbles in his chest when I pluck his nipples with my fingers.
“Fuck.” He says the word against my mouth as his hands slide down, lower, until he’s cupping my ass and lifting me right off the stool.
That … the whole picking-me-up thing … is so hot. Hotter than the little-girl thing. Although both are great. And now I’m mentally rambling, probably because my brain is in a frenzy, making a furious attempt to keep up with my body.
Crushing my mouth back to his, I dig my nails into his back as I wrap my legs around his waist, holding on for dear life. I try to determine the next move, where we’re going, what’s about to happen, but I find I don’t care. When Kingston’s mouth is on mine, his exquisite tongue sliding against mine, the only thing that matters is getting closer to him.
He must be just as distracted because we end up in my shower, both of us still dressed. Luckily, it’s a big shower. One without doors that allows him to easily navigate until my back is against the tiled wall.
I blindly reach down, fumbling as I twist the knob. Kingston pushes up against me as the water begins raining down. Thankfully it’s on-demand hot water or we could’ve very well put a damper on the mood. Instead, we’re both dressed, our clothes now plastered to our bodies while his tongue makes love to mine, which is quite possibly the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced.
This guy is so full of sexy…
Kingston attempts to pull back, but I grab the back of his head, holding him to me. “Not yet,” I whisper. “Don’t stop.”
“Not stopping,” he mumbles, chuckling at my apparent neediness. “Need you naked. Now.”
My sopping-wet shirt is lifted over my head, then tossed away, a loud plop echoing against the walls. I start to work the buttons of his shirt free but quickly grow frustrated. Rather than let him help me, I grip the two halves and pull, the small discs scattering, pinging against the wall and floor.
“That was hot, right?” I ask, pulling back enough to look up at him.
He’s smiling. A sensual, devious smirk that makes my pussy wetter than it already was.
“So hot,” he agrees, lowering me to my feet.
Pulling his head back down to mine, I match his smile. “Where were we?”
When his lips cover mine once again, I reach between us and work the button and zipper of his jeans free, then slip my hand inside.
Oh.
My.
God.
Although I can’t see him, the fact that I can’t wrap my hand completely around his girth tells me all I need to know. The man is freaking ginormous. And here I thought they called him Mount Rushmore because he’s like a mountain guarding the goal. Perhaps, they call him that because he’s so freaking huge…
It shouldn’t surprise me, because the guy is massive everywhere else, but seriously…
Kingston hisses, his hips bucking toward me as I stroke his smooth, velvety shaft.
His dick is thick and hard and so fucking big my pussy clenches, desperate for him to fill me. Only briefly do I wonder if it’ll actually fit. I remember one time, Noelle was telling me about a guy she had sex with—or tried to, anyway—and no matter how hard they tried, he wouldn’t fit. People don’t think that shit really happens, but it does.
While I stroke him with my hand, he strokes my tongue with his, working the clasp on my bra free, then practically tearing it from my arms. It disappears, assumingly off to join my shirt.
Not that I care. At the moment, my clothes are the last thing I’m thinking about.
And if I’m being completely honest, not once since Kingston started kissing me have I thought about our friendship, either.
Kingston
When I pull back for air, Ellie is staring up at me, continuing to stroke my cock in her fist. Her fingers are soft against my heated flesh, the continuous motion making me dizzy with lust. I fucking love the way she touches me. It’s as though she’s curious yet aware of her ability to make me lose my mind.
My jeans have worked their way down my hips, but I can’t think enough to push them lower. My brain is malfunctioning, my dick making all the decisions for me. Her touch is amazing, her silky-soft fingers gliding over my shaft, stealing the air from my lungs.
It’s too much but not enough. I plant one hand on the tiled wall above Ellie’s head and tilt my head back, allowing the sensations to take over. I have to focus on breathing, in no way ready for this to be over, but I can’t help but enjoy it.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, it registers that my jeans have worked their way down to my knees—likely Ellie’s doing—but I don’t open my eyes. The way her hand firmly strokes me, teasing the head every now and then…
“Fuck,” I bark, my head snapping down when I feel the wet suction of her mouth on my dick. My fingers instantly tangle in her wet hair as I take in the sight of her mouth covering the head. She’s kneeling before me, her eyes never averting from my face as she wraps those pretty lips around my dick and sucks. I have fantasized about this a million times, but those don’t hold a candle to the real deal. “Ellie. Damn, baby. So good… Aww, fuck.”
There are plenty of things I’ve fantasized about where Ellie is concerned, and they are all damn good, but this… Nothing beats having this woman on her knees, my dick tunneling in and out of her mouth while her eager gaze watches me.
“Oh, yeah.” A groan escapes me, my body rock hard, my dick pulsing against her tongue.
She takes more of me in her mouth, inch by slow inch, until she gags and pulls back. She releases me from between her lips, using her tongue to trail down the underside of my cock. I tighten my hand in her hair. If she isn’t careful, I’m going to come. After last night, getting her off with my fingers, listening to her whimper and moan, even the slightest spark is going to set off my fuse.
When she wraps her lips around me again, I reach down and cup her chin, needing to control the pace. Her submission is instant and I damn near lose it. Her hands go to my thighs as I begin slowly fucking her mouth. She never looks away, the heat in her gaze captivating me.
“That’s it, little girl,” I whisper roughly. “Damn, that’s hot. Watching your pre
tty pink lips around my dick…” I grunt, desperate to hang on to that last thread of control, but I can’t stop watching my cock tunneling in and out of her mouth.
Fuck. I have to stop.
In a minute.
Oh, damn, it’s good.
Her cheeks hollow as she sucks me in.
Yep, have to stop or I’m going to come.
It damn near kills me, but I manage to pull back. Reaching for her, I help Ellie to her feet. Her arms come around my neck at the same time I jerk her forward, our lips crashing together. I can feel every inch of her against every inch of me, but still, we aren’t close enough.
“Condom,” Ellie mumbles. “You better have one, Kingston.”
I chuckle at her insistence. Oh, I have one, all right.
“I’m not done teasing you,” I inform her. I specifically recall telling her I would make her come with my mouth and I intend—
“Oh, yes, you are. I can’t wait any longer. Need you … inside me.”
Okay, so the oral pleasure can wait.
It only takes a second for me to grab the condom from my pocket (I’ve been prepared for anything) as I kick my jeans off, then rip the wrapper open and roll the rubber over my length. Ellie pushes her shorts down her legs, kicking them and her panties away while I stroke myself slowly.
Not wanting to muddle this with words or conversation—because seriously, I’m one second away from detonation—I back Ellie against the wall, reach behind her knee, and lift her leg, opening her to me. With more patience than any man can have in this position, I guide my dick to her, rubbing the sensitive head along her slit.
“Kingston…”
I line up, meet her gaze, and then slowly push forward. Like a velvet vice, her body grips me, welcoming me, pulling me in. She’s so fucking tight. I push in deeper, trying to go slow, but it isn’t easy. She feels too fucking good.
“More… Kingston… Now!”
God, she’s sexy when she goes all cave-woman on me. So fucking hot.
Giving her what she asked for, I retreat slowly, then thrust my hips forward.
Ellie’s fingernails dig into my back, scoring my skin as she cries out my name. She’s so tight, her pussy seizing me as I push in deep. She attempts to move her hips, trying to take more of me.
“Hold that thought,” I growl, stilling when I’m seated fully inside her. She’s so tight, so warm, so wet … I’m on the verge of losing my shit. In an effort to maintain my control, I hold still a moment longer. “Now watch while I fuck you.”
I slowly pull back, sliding out almost completely before pushing back in. Over and over, I torment us both as we watch my cock slide deep, then withdraw. Her hand is on my ass, her fingernails digging into the muscles when she pulls me forward.
Ellie looks up at me, and I meet her gaze and hold it while I continue to screw my hips forward, burying myself to the hilt. When she starts to look down again, I tilt her head back up, forcing her to watch my face. As hot as it is for her to watch our bodies come together, there is something breathtakingly intimate about this, something that I’ve never experienced before. For me, sex has always been about the physical gratification, never anything deeper than that. But with Ellie, it’s that and so much more.
“Damn, you’re beautiful.” I pick up the pace, fucking her faster as I continue to stare back at her until her lids slowly close, her mouth falling open. “Open your eyes, Ellie. Look at me.”
When she opens her eyes, I tighten my grip on her leg, shifting her before slamming in deep, increasing my pace even more as I hold her still.
“Kingston… Oh … fuck…”
“Good?”
“So-o-o good.”
I slam into her repeatedly, fucking her harder, deeper, my entire body drawn tight, my muscles locking up as I fight my release. I’m so damn close, but I need her to…
“Kingston… Oh, yes… I’m…”
The walls of her pussy clamp onto my dick as I continue to thrust, never wanting this to end. Sparks ignite in my spine; my dick pulses as I try to hold out a little longer. My hips are on board as I continue to plow her, my heart racing as my climax nears.
It’s hard to breathe, but the sensation is intoxicating.
“Come for me,” Ellie pleads, her hands cupping my face, her eyes locked with mine.
That does it.
My release is so powerful I damn near take us both to the ground.
25
Kingston
I’ve never called in sick to practice unless I was hovering on death’s door. Fortunately, that has only happened one time, and I’d suffered a debilitating case of the flu.
Today, I probably should’ve bugged out and told them I was sick because my concentration is for shit. Somehow, despite my desire to move Ellie from the shower to her bed where I could make love to her for the rest of the day, I managed to pull myself away and get to the arena.
I did this for two reasons. One, I damn sure don’t want Spencer getting all up in my shit about what I’m doing with his sister. I’m sure he knows I took her home last night, and it wouldn’t have been a coincidence if I didn’t show up today. And two, I wanted to give Ellie a little space.
After what we experienced, I damn sure didn’t want to suffocate her by sticking around longer than I should have. Then again, I also didn’t want to rush out the door like I had somewhere else I’d rather be.
“Hey, Rush! You’re in goal tonight!” Coach calls out from his position near the boards.
I nod my head in understanding.
“You can head out if you want.”
“Or,” another voice calls out, “you can stay.”
I glance over to see Coach Putnam peering at me from the other end of the ice. He waves me down, and I abandon the net to go see what he needs.
“Why don’t you work with Locke for a half hour or so? Let’s focus on penalty shots.”
I nod. Oddly, I’m relieved at the opportunity to do a little coaching today. I definitely need some time to focus on the here and now. We’ve got a game tonight, and if I go out there like this—with my mind still in that shower with Ellie—I’m going to be shit on the ice.
At least this way, I can force myself to focus and not risk personal injury when my mind floats back to what happened between Ellie and me a short while ago. Because I know for a fact, that’s exactly where my head’s going to be until the next time I see her. Which I hope is really fucking soon.
Ellie: Good luck tonight. I’ll be in the stands cheering for you.
Kingston: No pressure, huh?
Ellie: Of course not. You’re gonna be great.
Kingston: I seem to do well when you’re there. So…
Ellie: It has nothing to do with me.
Kingston: I wouldn’t assume anything. I had a rocky season last year. The only difference between then and now is … you.
Ellie: Aww. That’s better than flowers.
Kingston: Nice try. I know not to send you flowers.
Ellie: I detest getting flowers. However, sweet words will get you where you want to be.
Kingston: Damn good information to have.
26
Thursday, November 3rd
Ellie: Sorry about the loss tonight.
Kingston: I told you, I do better when you’re at the game.
Ellie: I tend to disagree, but if you hadn’t been in St. Louis, I would’ve been there.
Kingston: Well, now I wish you were here for entirely different reasons.
Ellie: Like?
Kingston: Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because your presence alone would turn a shitty night better.
Ellie: I’m going to take that as a compliment.
Kingston: As you should.
Ellie: Well, I can tell you one thing I would do if I was there.
Kingston: What’s that?
Ellie: I’d start with distracting you.
Ellie: With my mouth.
Kingston: Aww, fuck. Just mentioning it worked.
27
Ellie
Sunday, November 6th
“And then?”
I knew the second I invited my best friend to come over and share a bottle of wine (or two), the topic would land on Kingston. It’s a good thing I gave Bianca permission to go to the movies tonight with Gabby, otherwise, it’s possible she would’ve been scarred for life.
Never mind the fact that the subject Noelle and I are currently on is completely my fault. We’ve been happily talking about crazy things that’ve happened at the bar when all of a sudden, I contract diarrhea of the mouth, spilling every damn thing that happened between me and Kingston on Tuesday morning.
Now, as is usually the case, Noelle wants to know everything.
“Was it fantastic? Phenomenal? Earth-shattering?”
“Something along those lines,” I agree.
“I’ve never understood why the two of you haven’t bumped uglies already.”
“That sounds really disgusting,” I say with a giggle. I mean, seriously, who came up with that?
“What else?”
“Nothing else.” I grin, loving the fact that I’m irritating her.
“Oh, come on,” Noelle grumbles. “If you fucked Mount Rushmore, I need deets. Right down to the size and shape.”
I choke on my wine, bolting upright on my couch to keep from drenching myself and the cushions with red liquid.
“Was it big? Small? Thin? What about the head? Short? Long? Wide? Does he have big balls? Does he shave? Is he circumcised? Surely he is.”
Knowing Noelle is on a roll and the only way to stop her is to feed her information, I hold up a hand. “Big,” I say, coughing to clear my throat.
“Big big? Or mediocre big?”
“Huge big.” I’m laughing uncontrollably at this point. And now the word big sounds funny to me. Which makes me laugh harder.
“So, long and thin? Short and fat? Long and fat? God, I hope he’s long and fat.”
I frown.
“For your sake. Geez.”
I shake my head, then dare to take another sip of my wine as I once again settle into the soft, cool leather.
The Season: Rush (Austin Arrows #1) Page 21
