Puck Me Secretly (A Vancouver Wolves Hockey Romance Book 1)

Puck Me Secretly: Chapter 5



IN A DAZE, I walked into my hotel room and stopped in front of the big mirror. Dried black streaks of eye makeup stained my cheeks. My hair stuck in a million directions, and I still had the yellow life vest limply hanging around my neck. I looked like a crazy person.

With shaking hands, I pulled the vest off. I didn’t know what to do or how to feel. So many thoughts, so many emotions rushed through me.

Was this real?

Had I actually cheated death?

What is Max doing?

Why didn’t I die?

Feeling disoriented, I sat on the bed. I needed to zone out. I didn’t want to think about what I had just experienced. I clicked on the television. Every channel, including CNN, broadcasted the crash. Announcers stood in the field, with the crash site behind them, and with excitement, explained that this was a miracle crash.

Yeah, so not helping.

I turned off the TV and laid back on the bed.

Despite considerable odds, I had survived my greatest fear. I had survived a life-altering plane crash. Shouldn’t I feel different? Shouldn’t I have big endorphins pouring through my body, giving me a new perspective on life?

Only, I was still me.

Nothing had changed.

I took a hot shower, shrugged on my complimentary robe and sat on the end of the bed. I stared at the wall between Max’s room and my own.

What was Max doing?

Did he feel different?

Max had displayed unbelievable courage through that harrowing event. While people around us fell apart, he had held me together. I had lost my shit on that flight and he had cocooned me from the worst.

And we had survived.

Now I was alone and the only person I wanted to be with was him. I didn’t understand that, but that is how I felt.

What would happen if I popped over to his room to see how he was doing? He told me that if I needed anything, I only needed to knock. But I didn’t want to impose. Hadn’t he done enough for me? He had spent the day taking care of me, so I wasn’t sure he wanted to continue to deal with me.

I can’t be alone right now.

I shoved my feet into my pink converse sneakers which created a ridiculous fashion statement with my robe, but I didn’t care. I moved down the hallway, made it as far as his door, but then couldn’t bring myself to knock. Turning around to go back to my room, I muffled my gasp when his door opened.

We studied each other. Max’s unbuttoned navy dress shirt teased me with a hard expanse of corded muscle. His damp hair indicated he’d recently gotten out of the shower.

Blue eyes took in my runners and housecoat. “I didn’t hear you knock.”

“I was going back to my room.”

“I was coming to check on you.”

That made me feel better. Enough so I could speak my truth. “I don’t feel like being alone.”

Without speaking, he held his door open wide. I inspected his room.

“Nice room.”

“Is yours different?”

“No. It’s the same.”

“I’ve seen a lot of hotel rooms in my life.”

I glanced at him, interested in the small tidbit of himself that he shared. “Do you travel a lot for work?”

“Yes.”

What did Max do for a living? I debated asking him, but he wasn’t giving me the vibe he wanted to talk about his personal life. I respected that he guarded his personal life, and it’s not like I wanted to spill any more of my guts.

He studied me as if he was trying to figure out my train of thought.

“Do you want a drink?”

“Yes please.”

I sat on the edge of his bed and watched as he knelt in front of the minibar.

“Gin and tonic?”

“That sounds nice.” I watched as he poured my drink.

“I don’t have ice.”

“That’s fine.”

He poured himself a scotch, handed me my glass and then sat on the chair by the table, a few feet away from me.

We drank in silence for a few moments. The man before me was a total stranger, but I felt drawn to him.

“How are you doing?” He broke the silence.

“I thought I’d feel different.”

“How so?”

“Shouldn’t a near death experience change my outlook on life?”

He continued to watch me with that intense blue gaze.

I had to know. “How were you so calm?”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone was screaming and freaking out and you didn’t react. How did you know we’d live?”

“I didn’t.”

“Excuse me?”

He dumped the rest of his mini bottle of scotch into his glass. “I didn’t think we’d live.”

Shock rippled through me. “But you told me. You told me it’d be okay.”

“I know.”

“I believed you.”

“That was the point.”

I sat back and processed that. Max had believed we would die, but he spent his last moments trying to comfort me and make me believe we’d be okay.

“Why would you do that?”

He shrugged. “Atonement?”

What did that mean? I realized I needed to rethink my stance on bossy men. I had assumed they were all one dimensional, but this man felt like a jigsaw puzzle. “I don’t understand you.”

He didn’t answer, but I didn’t expect him to. I looked anywhere but at him. I suppose I should go back to my room, but I dreaded being alone.

“You want to watch a movie?”

I lifted my eyes back at him. “Here?”

He shrugged.

I answered by kicking off my shoes and climbing up the bed. “You pick.”

AFTER THE FIRST MOVIE, we ordered room service. I had a burger with fries, he had a steak with salad. We didn’t speak other than exchange light banter about the movie. We were two survivors who didn’t want to face the aftermath alone. Or maybe it was just me who didn’t want to be alone, and he was atoning for more unknown sins. I didn’t question it. He kept me company, and I refrained from pumping him with questions.

After our meal, we both resettled back on the bed. Stretched out beside me, assuming I would stay for another movie, he flipped through the movies. I was an independent person, so I couldn’t quite reconcile myself to this need to not be alone.

“What do you want to watch?”

“You pick, I’ll watch anything.”

He picked a popular box office movie I had already seen, but I didn’t tell him that. The movie started and failed to hold my attention. The man, that lay beside me with his hand tucked behind his head, was all I could think about. Questions burned my mind. Who was he? What kind of job did he have? If he told me he had an office job, it would surprise me, but he didn’t strike me as someone who did manual labor. Maybe he worked as a fireman. But would a fireman transfer to another city to work?

The question came out of me before I could stop it. “Are you American?”

Blue eyes shifted towards me. “Canadian.”

“Oh. Were you working in the US?”

His eyes moved back to the television, letting me know he didn’t want to talk about himself. “Yes.”

“I loved living in New York. Have you ever lived in Vancouver?”

“No.”

“I was born and raised there.”

“Do you want a different movie?”

I shook my head. “No. It’s fine.” I forced myself to lie back and remain quiet. I tied my hair in a knot on my head. I scratched my arm. I fluffed my pillow.

He paused the movie and rolled over onto his side, his head propped up by his arm. “What’s going on?”

“What!”

“You’re restless.”

I stared at his gorgeous face. “Don’t you want to talk?”

“About?”

“Anything.”

“Why don’t you talk.”

I had nothing to say. I had a million questions but none of them seemed appropriate. “Why are you moving to Canada?”

“For my job.”

“Did you get transferred?”

“Something like that.”

“Are you excited?

“Not particularly.”

“Do you know anyone in Vancouver?”

“Nope.”

“You know me.”

His blue eyes held mine. “Rory, I don’t want to give you the wrong idea here.”

My face burned hot. “What do you mean?”

“We can’t take this friendship past tonight.”

This conversation should be making me indignant, but I only felt disappointment. “Okay.”

“Today was a tough day, but when I get to Vancouver, my focus has to be free of distractions.”

“I wouldn’t distract you.”

His eyes dropped to my mouth. “You’re already a distraction.” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

My stomach fluttered, and an energy passed between us. I realized this was the moment I should get off the bed and head back to my room. He all but told me he wouldn’t see me after tonight and one-night stands were not my thing. Yet, I seemed stuck on his bed.

“Is this where you try to make me have an orgasm?”

A smile spread across his face as my words set in. “No. Definitely not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not the right guy for you.”

“Why do you assume that I want something more than tonight?”

“Have you even fooled around with someone you weren’t dating?”

No, I hadn’t. “What’s your point?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

I had all but offered my body to him and he was refusing. I thought about the blonde flight attendant. He had been considering disappearing into a closet with her for a quickie. So maybe it was me. Maybe he didn’t want me. The rejection made me scramble to the end of the bed. I put on my shoes. “I get it.”

“What do you get?”

“You’re not that into me.”

He reached forward and grabbed my hand and tugged me back, so I faced him. His serious expression traced over my face. “What do you want?”

I swallowed, now unsure about everything. The old me would have said goodnight and gone to my room like the good girl I was. The new I-just-survived-a-plane-crash me blurted out, “I want my orgasm.”

His kiss caught me off guard. It shouldn’t have, considering what we were discussing, but when his mouth moved onto mine, I initially didn’t kiss him back. I was too shocked. I couldn’t help but compare his kiss to other kisses, but it didn’t compare. The Baby Men were impatient and sloppy, but Max kissed me like he had all the time in the world. I lay back and his mouth followed mine.

I sighed again as my eyes drifted shut. His mouth slanted over mine, tasting of scotch and male. When he deepened the kiss, when his tongue played with my mouth, my weightless hands drifted up around his warm, thick neck. I moaned when he exerted more pressure, opening my mouth further to him. Who knew a man’s lips could feel so good? Who knew a kiss could feel so magical?

I arched my neck back, my fingers still tangled in his hair, when he trailed his mouth down my neck. I loved getting my neck kissed, and he was fantastic at it. Tingling sensations traced down my spine and I could feel my body respond to the touch of his mouth on my skin, but unlike the Baby Men, he took his time, making me feel like there was no rush.

His hand tugged at the belt of my robe. I stared at the ceiling, with half-shut eyes. Max’s warm mouth traced along the tender skin beneath my jawline. I felt his breath, the scrape of his teeth on sensitive skin and I sighed. I felt my robe push open.

My eyes opened wide when he lifted himself over me. I could feel the heavy fabric of his jean-clad legs against the naked skin of my inner thighs. Should it bother me I was naked while he remained dressed?

My eyes opened wide when a big hand moved up to cup my breast. I fought a ridiculous need to giggle, but that feeling died when his mouth captured my nipple and he sucked on my breast with an intensity that made me come off the bed. My fingers dug into his hair while my stomach did cartwheels.

My breathing changed. I could feel my ribcage rise and fall as he rhythmically sucked on my breast causing all sorts of weird sensations to shoot down into the pit of my stomach. He moved to my other breast, and I squirmed as those sensations intensified. Why didn’t it feel like this when the Baby Men kissed my breasts? Why was it so different with him?

I covered my face with both of my hands when his mouth moved down. Teeth grazed my rib cage. A tongue teased my belly button.

I felt two strong hands, move down my thighs, teasing the soft skin and pushing my legs open. I cried out, lifting my head, watching as he lifted my calves over his broad shoulders. His face was inches away from my bare apex.

“You smell amazing,” his dark eyes lifted to my face. “Do you taste as good as you smell?”

I blinked in disbelief, unsure if he wanted me to answer. “I don’t know.”

His smile bedazzled me and then, without breaking eye contact, his tongue licked up the length of me.

My hips jerked up, and he wrapped his big forearms around my thighs.

“I don’t think I’ve tasted anything this good.”

I moaned and covered my face with my hands. His mouth delved between my folds. Big hands imprisoned my legs, holding me down. Max had complete control over my body. He sucked, feasted, nibbled and lapped at me. He tortured me with his tongue until I panted. He fanned a flame in me that became so big, it threatened to burn me up. Intoxicated, my hips strained against his hold on me, wanting more. Begging with little jerks and thrusts for my release.

Never had my body felt like this. He roused in me a hunger, so intense, I thought I would lose my mind. My head tossed back and forth, and my fingers moved down to dig into his thick hair. Unabashed, I cried out, loud, demanding noises, as my body burned with an ache.

“Please,” I cried. “Max, please.”

He lifted his head, watching me.

“Yes,” I gasped, when he invaded me with his fingers. Without shame, my hips pumped up and down trying to increase the friction.

“You want this so bad, don’t you?” his dark eyes watched me. “Such a dirty girl. Look at you. So needy and hungry. So lush and wet for me.”

“More,” I choked out my demands. “Give me more.”

He twisted his fingers and stroked something deep inside me. My head fell back, and I stared unfocused on one spot on the ceiling. Transfixed, only focusing on his fingers, swirling and caressing.

He bent his mouth down and sucked onto my lush nub.

My world exploded. My hips bucked up. My back arched off the bed while my eyes rolled in my head. He kept on sucking and my orgasm never seemed to end. Pleasure rolled on top of pleasure. I hung, suspended in time, unable to do anything but surrender to the intensity of the moment.

His fingers slowed and then stopped, and I became boneless. Slack and wasted while I twitched and quivered.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

A mangled laugh bubbled out of me.

I felt him move back up over me, and then his face was above mine. I opened my eyes to his. He appeared dangerous. Eyes dark. A savage hunger made his jaw tight and his eyes narrow. He seemed to be hanging onto his control by a thread.

“You have no idea how much I want to fuck you.”

“I want that too.”

And then I ruined it by yawning.

He rested his forehead against mine, his eyes squeezed shut. And then he rolled off me, stood up and pulled me onto shaking legs. I blinked as he pushed the robe off my body. I stood naked, watched as he pulled the bed covers back.

“Come on, get in.”

I crawled in. I stared up at him. Exhaustion, from the plane crash and my orgasm, pulled at my eyelids. “Are you going to lie down too?”

He leaned down and gave me a lingering kiss on the lips. “Soon. First, have a little rest.”

“Okay.” I felt happy.

And then sleep claimed me.


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