The Season: Rush (Austin Arrows #1)

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The Season: Rush (Austin Arrows #1) Page 26

by Nicole Edwards


  “Kingston…”

  Again, I love how eager she is, how she doesn’t mind begging for what she wants.

  Using the tip of my tongue, I graze her swollen clit. When she hisses, her hips bucking up off the desk, I flatten my tongue and lick her fully, savoring the taste of her. Holding her silky flesh open with my fingers, I dive in, licking, sucking, bringing her closer and closer to where I want her to be.

  Twice, when I think she might go over the edge, I pull back, kissing her thigh before returning my attention to her sweet pussy. I don’t simply want her to come, I want her to come apart.

  “Make me come,” she rasps. “Please, Kingston … make me come.”

  Her wish is my command.

  I flick her clit with my tongue, sucking her into my mouth, then drive two fingers inside her tight entrance, curling them just so…

  “Oh, God!”

  Ellie’s back bows as she comes on my fingers, her clit pulsing against my tongue, her inner walls clamping down. I want to draw out her orgasm a million more times, but I don’t want to do it here, so I let her ride out her climax, easing my fingers from her body, kissing her smooth skin a few more times before helping her back into her clothes.

  “Our ten minutes isn’t completely up,” Ellie says with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “I could always return the favor.”

  The thought of her blowing me in her office is almost too much to resist. The only reason I do is because I want to savor the rest of the night, not rush through it.

  And in order to make that happen, I need to get her back to my place.

  “We’ve got the rest of the night,” I tell her, pressing my lips to hers. “And I promise, we’ll make good use of all those minutes.”

  “Promise?”

  I smirk. I’ve never meant anything more.

  33

  Ellie

  It’s extremely rare that I will go to a man’s house. Even rarer that I’ll bring a man to mine, so I guess this is one of those extremely rare occasions. Then again, Kingston is a rather special kind of guy, so I’m willing to break my own rules. I can always deal with the consequences tomorrow. Right now, I have other plans and they involve a big, sexy goalie. Naked.

  After all, it’s temporary, right?

  Not to mention, after that freaking orgasm in my office … I’d be completely insane to turn the guy down. I mean seriously fucked up in the head. I’ve been with enough men to know that what Kingston does … with his tongue… Not all men know how to do that. For the sake of womankind, men should be required to take a class on cunnilingus so that there are more men like Kingston in the world.

  And because I’m not willing to pass up the opportunity for at least one more mind-blowing orgasm—I wonder if it’s possible to die from too many orgasms? I don’t think so, but I’m more than willing to test the theory—I’m parking in Kingston’s circle driveway while he pulls his truck into the garage. Rather than race up to his front door and show how overly anxious I am, I sit in my car until he comes out. When I put my hand on the door handle, I realize it’s shaking. No doubt about it, I’m nervous. You’d think I was a virgin or something.

  I’ve already had sex with the guy—twice—so it’s not first-time nerves. However, I can’t deny that there is something different about tonight. For the past few weeks, it’s been as though Kingston and I were solidifying our bond. We already know that sex between us is downright explosive, so I’m not sure what else is at play.

  When I make it up to the porch, Kingston is waiting for me, his eyes blazing with heat, but there’s something else there, too. I can’t put my finger on it. When he leans down and presses his lips to mine gently, I nearly melt. It’s sweet and tender and has the same effect as that damn orgasm. My insides ignite and I’m ready to climb him.

  Apparently he has other things in mind, because he takes my hand and leads me inside.

  Here I’d been thinking we would end up naked in the entryway, maybe get it on right on the stairs. That’s not what happens, and now I’m a bit confused. It’s as though Kingston’s had time to think, and he’s altered the course of events.

  “You want something to drink?” he offers.

  “Sure.”

  Kingston nods toward the couch, which, from what I can tell, is a nonverbal communication for me to have a seat. I wander that direction while he disappears into the kitchen.

  For the record, I absolutely love Kingston’s house. I’ve been here on many occasions because he is my brother’s best friend. Bianca has spent many hours in his pool, I’ve chilled in his hot tub, we’ve had drinks, played card games… I’ve always enjoyed my time here.

  As for the actual house… It’s stunning. There’s dark wood and sturdy, masculine furniture everywhere. The almost-white walls are a stark contrast to the cherry hardwood that flows throughout the house. The kitchen is a stainless steel masterpiece, and I happen to know that Kingston spared no expense when he had it designed. The man lives in his kitchen when he’s not on the ice.

  The place feels the same as the last time I was here. Only this time, I’m alone with Kingston. In other words, Spencer isn’t here tonight. And I’m not here because of my brother.

  Not entirely, anyway. The favor doesn’t count.

  I plop onto the couch and grab the remote, hitting the button to see what Kingston last watched. I’m nosy like that. I do it to Bianca all the time.

  No surprise, SportsCenter is on.

  “What’re you doing?”

  I turn my attention to Kingston as he moves across the room, carrying two wineglasses and a bottle. He smiles and I pat the cushion beside me. He sets the glasses on the table, pours the wine, then holds one out for me.

  Not sure what he is up to, I decide to get more comfortable, so I toe off my boots, then take the glass from him as I ease back into the overstuffed, comfy cushions. When he sits beside me and pulls me closer, I settle against his side, his arm around my shoulders. He kisses my temple, then turns his attention to the television.

  I notice the sound is muted, and since I didn’t do that, it means he probably wasn’t listening to it to begin with.

  “I wanted to talk,” Kingston says, his voice soft, firm.

  I can tell by his tone that we aren’t about to have a conversation regarding our little agreement—the one where he agrees to teach me some things in the bedroom. “About?”

  It seems like an hour ticks by while I sip my wine and wait for him to speak. It’s probably more like seconds, but the tension is thickening, and I’m tempted to down my wine in one gulp.

  “That woman’s name is Wendy Jacobsen,” he begins.

  It takes me a minute to realize he’s referring to the incident from last season. The girl who blatantly lied.

  “I don’t know her. The only time I met her was at a bar. She asked for a picture, so I posed for one. Her friend took it. I didn’t take her back to my hotel room, I didn’t go back to hers. I’d never met her before and never talked to her after. She literally said five words to me and that was it. I have no idea where her accusations came from, nor do I know what her angle was or is. And I still don’t get why she recanted or said that shit in the first place.”

  I tilt my head so I can look up at him. I can tell by his tone that this is really bothering him. He sounds completely baffled and maybe a little hurt that an unknown woman would say such things. I can’t say I blame him. “Why are you telling me this?”

  Kingston drops his head back to the cushion and stares up at the ceiling. “Because I don’t want you to think that I’d ever put my hands on a woman like that. It bothers me that anyone would think that about me. I don’t know why she did it. She never tried to contact me. I have no fucking clue what she was even after.”

  “Maybe she wanted her fifteen minutes of fame,” I suggest.

  “That’s what Coach thinks, but it doesn’t make sense. Why not sleep with me?”

  I laugh, smacking Kingston on the chest.

  Hi
s head pops up and he smiles. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t get why she would ask for a picture, walk away, and start talking shit. If she would’ve followed through and tried to sleep with me… It makes no fucking sense.”

  He’s right, it doesn’t. “You think someone put her up to it?”

  Kingston’s gaze meets mine. “I’ve thought about that. Who the fuck would want to mess with me like that? I would’ve had to have fucked someone’s world up pretty damn bad.”

  Again, Kingston is right.

  Sitting up, I shift so that I’m straddling his thighs. “Well, you don’t have to worry. I don’t believe her, and not once did I think you would’ve done that. You’ve got a lot of people in your corner, no matter what anyone says.”

  Kingston’s eyes never leave my face. I feel the intensity of his stare, but I have no idea what is going on in his head.

  “If there’s anything good that happened because of this…” Kingston’s thumb brushes my bottom lip. “It’s that we got to this point.”

  I’m not sure what point this is, but if he means the two of us sharing these moments, then I have to agree. It isn’t permanent, and I know it could never be. Kingston’s world is different than mine. He isn’t the settling-down type, and he endures too much temptation to ever be expected to be able to settle down with one woman.

  But for now, I want to be the woman he spends his time with. For as long as it lasts.

  Kingston

  I’m not sure what came over me or why I wanted to talk about the chick who made those accusations, but I felt it was necessary. Had Ellie been any other woman I took to bed, I probably wouldn’t think twice about her opinion of me. With her, it’s different. I like her. A lot. And it’s as though that topic has been hanging between the two of us, even if she hasn’t noticed.

  I have.

  I have and I hate it. I still don’t understand why a woman would do that to any man, or vice versa, but it irks the shit out of me. When I think about it, I get angry. More so because I simply don’t know what her motives were. The fact that Ellie doesn’t doubt me makes all the difference in the world. I have no clue what that woman was up to or why she talked smack, but it helps to know I have people in my corner. People who care about me. People I care about.

  And I’m not lying … if anything good has come out of this, it’s that Ellie and I were brought together. I’ve wanted her for so damn long, but there are things that have kept me from pursuing her. When this is over, I’m not sure how I’ll be expected to walk away, but I’ll deal with that when the time comes.

  For now, I want to savor every second I get to spend with her.

  “So, why don’t we talk about something else,” Ellie says softly, her hand cupping my face, a slow smile forming on her lips. “Or perhaps we don’t talk at all.”

  Now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, I’m game for whatever she wants. Since she’s straddling me, it’s safe to assume which direction this is going. And if it involves her naked in any way … there’s no reason to wait.

  Taking her glass, I set it on the end table along with mine, then lean back and reach for her. Gripping her hips, I pull her down against me, grinding my erection between us. I want her so fucking bad. It’s a wonder my head hasn’t exploded by now.

  “I like the way you think,” I tell her, pulling her close and then getting to my feet.

  Ellie giggles, grabbing on to me and wrapping her long legs around my waist as I head over to the stairs and then up to my bedroom. She’s still giggling and holding on tight when I close the door with my foot. My bedroom is dark, so I set her on her feet and make my way around to the nightstand. I flip on the lamp beside the bed and turn to see Ellie pulling her shirt up and over her head.

  My mouth waters instantly. As of right this minute, that red bra is my favorite of all the things I’ve seen her wear over the years. Including that sexy white bikini she had a few years back.

  “What’re you waiting for?” Ellie asks, grinning widely.

  I follow her lead, reaching behind my head and grabbing a fistful of my shirt, then pulling it off and tossing it onto the floor.

  When Ellie reaches for the button on her jeans, I have to hurry to toe off my boots. She can’t get too far ahead of me, because I fully intend for this night to last a while. Ellie hops on one foot and removes her socks, but that’s as far as I can let things go without touching her again. I close the distance between us, pulling her flush against me as I crush my mouth to hers. I practically inhale her, the desperate ache inside me building.

  It’s hard to take things slow when I can’t seem to get enough of her. Like our first time—in the shower. I’ve thought about all the things I could’ve done differently, savored her, explored her … but then I think about how desperate my body was to feel hers and I realize I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

  And tonight… I know what direction we are going, I’m simply not sure what path I will take to get there. Slow and seductive seems fitting, but the ache in my balls tells me I’m going to have to rein it in for that to work.

  Ellie’s fingers find the button on my jeans, and as she works it free, I try to come up with a game plan. When she manages to slip her hand inside my jeans, wrapping her cool fingers around my dick, all rational thought flees.

  But there is one thing I keep replaying in my head: No matter what happens, I have to get control of this situation.

  That, or this is going to be a one-man show.

  34

  Ellie

  I’m so lost in Kingston’s kiss, so eager to get him naked, I’m taken a little by surprise when he grips my wrists in each of his hands and halts me from exploring him further. The next thing I know, he has relocated my hands behind my back, both wrists ringed by his long fingers, and his lips are caressing my jaw.

  “I told myself that the next time I had you, I was gonna take my time,” he mumbles softly against my ear. “And that’s exactly what I plan to do.”

  I’m not sure I can handle him taking his time. I want to feel him inside me right now. I don’t want to wait. Despite the orgasm he gave me with his mouth earlier, there is an ache between my thighs that can only be sated by his cock.

  “Next time,” I say, trying to get him to kiss me again. Without the use of my hands, that is a hell of a lot harder than it should be.

  Kingston chuckles.

  “This time,” he states firmly as he pulls me with him toward the bed.

  I’m standing between his legs once he sits on the mattress, while Kingston looks up at me with hooded eyes. I love the way he does a slow perusal of my body, his eyes skimming my overheated skin, causing a delicious tremor to erupt in my core.

  In this moment, I don’t see any of the flaws I usually see in myself. I don’t focus on the fact that my left boob is slightly bigger than the right, or that the hair on my arms is a little too dark, or my hands aren’t dainty and cute like some women. Oh, and the big one … I don’t fret over the fact that my thighs definitely touch and I’ve got stretch marks. None of those things matter. The way he looks at me makes me feel as though I am perfect in every way.

  He releases my hands, but before I can go back to what I’d started earlier, he’s already making commands. “Turn around.”

  Not quite sure what to expect, I slowly pivot so that I’m facing away from him.

  “Unbutton your jeans.”

  I do as I’m instructed.

  Kingston’s rough hands caress my sides as he works his thumbs beneath the waistband of my jeans and then begins forcing them down, over my hips, then down my legs.

  “Step out of them.”

  I don’t argue.

  When I’m standing before him in nothing but my bra and panties, I feel a little self-conscious, especially since I can’t see his face.

  “Fucking phenomenal ass,” he mumbles, his words spoken in a rough whisper that makes my nipples harden.

  His hands cup my ass, kneading the flesh. I close my eye
s and enjoy the sensation of his warm skin against mine. I have no idea what he is doing, other than possibly looking at me, but I also don’t care. As long as he doesn’t stop touching me, I can endure.

  Maybe.

  Hopefully.

  He pulls me back a step and I move so that his thighs are bracing my legs.

  An involuntary moan escapes when his lips brush against my spine, the hair on his face sensually tickling my sensitive skin. I manage to hold myself together as he continues to kiss my back, his hands still squeezing my ass. It’s never occurred to me until now just how erogenous that area is.

  Kingston gently urges me forward, making me move away from the bed before he pulls my thong down by sliding his hands beneath the thin straps on my hips and tugging. The silky fabric falls to the floor around my ankles, but I don’t move. Can’t. Hell, I can hardly breathe.

  His lips are everywhere, his hands sliding up my thighs, over my ass again. I’m aware of his tongue as it glides down my spine slowly.

  “Oh, God,” I moan when the warmth darts between my ass cheeks. I have no idea what he is doing, what he is even planning on doing, but I’m not sure I care. Okay, yes, I’m a little nervous because his exploration is extremely foreign to me, but it feels too freaking good to make him stop.

  Before I have too much time to wonder, he pulls me backward, forcing me to sit against him, his denim-covered cock pressing against my butt, his bare chest against my back.

  Big, strong hands reach around, cupping my breasts, which are still restrained by my red bra. The red bra I put on this morning with the optimistic notion that this might happen. I’ve never been so happy that I was prepared.

  Kingston’s lips find my neck, and I tilt my head while his fingers work between my breasts to unclasp my bra.

  “I hope you know that I fully intend to take you up on your request.”

  I can feel the rumble of his words against my back. “What request is that?” I honestly don’t know what he is talking about. My brain isn’t exactly firing on all cylinders at the moment.

 

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