Scoring Chance (Carolina Comets)

I’m fucked.

Not literally—though I wish.

But I’m totally screwed.

When I set clothes on the counter for her, I expected her to march out here in a towel and tell me she wasn’t going to wear it. I didn’t expect her to put it on, but now she’s standing before me wearing the Comets logo across her chest with my name and number across her back.

It’s hot as fuck.

“Thanks for the t-shirt,” she says, yanking it down lower when it rides up a bit as she pads farther into the kitchen.

“T-shirt? You’re killing me, woman. It’s a jersey, or even a sweater—but definitely not a t-shirt.”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that today.”

I tip my head, unsure what she’s meaning.

“Woman,” she clarifies. “You said it in the grocery store too.”

“Oh. Do you not like it?”

“Honestly, I didn’t think I would, but…you keep growling it. It’s kind of hot.”

“I growl?”

“Yeah.” She nods. “Like…woman.”

She drops her voice a few octaves, really pushing the word out from her chest, and I can’t help but laugh.

“There’s no way I sound like that.”

“You do.” She shrugs. “But it’s okay because it’s hot.”

“Is it?”

“Oh yeah. Sometimes guys do that in romance novels, and I’ve always wondered what it meant and why it gets the heroine all hot and bothered, but then you…” She waves her hand toward me. “Yeah.”

“Are you saying you’re all hot and bothered right now?”

Pink colors her cheeks. “Well, I’m not not hot and bothered. It doesn’t help that you stole my bra, and this jersey feels really good against my nipples.” She slaps her hand over her mouth. “Oh my god. Forget I said that.”

Oh, I cannot forget she said that. Not in a million years will I forget she said that.

Fuck. Just thinking about her nipples makes my dick throb.

To be fair, everything about Scout makes my dick throb. She just has this effortless sexiness about her that I find incredibly attractive.

“Please?” she asks, eyes still wide.

“Not a chance.”

Before I know it, I’m crossing the kitchen and scooping her into my arms.

“Miller!” She squeals out a surprised laugh. “What the—put me down!”

“Fine,” I say, placing her on the counter, just where I wanted her all along.

“You’re insane,” she says breathlessly as I step in between her legs.

“Maybe a little.” I nuzzle my face into her neck, kissing her softly.

She’s trembling in my arms—literally.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“The counter is cold against my ass.”

I pull my head back and look at her. “Against your…” It all clicks into place. “You’re not wearing any underwear, are you?”

She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, shaking her head just a little.

Even I hear the growl that leaves me this time.

I slide my eyes down her body and see that the jersey has ridden up into very dangerous territory. It’s covering just the tippy tops of her thighs now. If she were to move even just an inch, it wouldn’t be covering anything at all.

I really want her to move an inch.

I meet her gaze, and I’m not surprised to find she’s staring at me with the same look that’s probably in my eyes—unabashed need.

“Can I…see?”

A soft exhale leaves her lips, and she hesitates for only a moment before nodding softly. “Yes.”

I don’t waste a single second, don’t give her any room to change her mind. I place my hands on her knees and spread them apart.

I was right about Scout—she’s stunning.

But seeing her sitting on my counter with her legs spread and her pretty pink pussy on display? She’s a fucking goddess.

I drop to my knees, ready to worship her as she deserves. I look up to find her watching me with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Can I try something?” I ask her.

Her eyes widen for only a moment. “You’ve never…?”

I shake my head once. “No.”

“Oh. I’d be your…first?”

And hopefully my last.

I don’t know where the thought comes from, but it slams into me all the same. I don’t know if I like it or if I even want it to be true, but it doesn’t necessarily feel wrong.

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Can you…tell me how you’d write it?”

“What?”

“Tell me how they do it in your books. I want this to be good for you. I want to be good for you.”

She swallows thickly, and her chest heaves. I think she’s going to say no, think she won’t do it.

But then she says, “Kiss my thighs first.” Another hard swallow. “The hero would kiss my thighs first.”

So, I do. I press my lips to the spot just above her knee and kiss my way up, up, up until just before the haven between her legs. Then, I start again on the other leg. I repeat it over and over until she’s squirming on the counter.

“Miller…” She crashes her fingers through my hair, tugging on the strands. “You’re killing me.”

“In a good way?”

“Yes, but I need more…”

“What next?”

“Taste me…” she begs. “Please.”

She guides my head toward her pussy, and I’m happy to follow her instructions.

I flatten my tongue, sliding it against her, and now I’m the one making noises because holy hell. She tastes incredible. Sweet, just like I knew she would.

I do it again. And again. She tilts her hips, giving me better access as I continue to lavish her. Her moans fill the kitchen, and I swear if someone recorded it, I would listen to it all day.

“Suck my clit,” she instructs.

I pull the little bud into my mouth, applying pressure, and she damn near flies off the counter.

“Oh god.” Another moan. “Don’t stop. Please.”

I drag her even closer until she’s teetering on the edge, gripping my hair for leverage as I continue to suck and lick and tease her into oblivion. I do it not only because she loves it, but because I love it. I think I could move in here if she’d let me.

“I’m so close,” she mutters. “So, so close.”

And that’s the last coherent thing that leaves her mouth as she trembles around me, her thighs squeezing me almost too tightly as she rides the waves of her orgasm on my tongue.

Her grip on my hair slowly loosens, and her legs relax. I know I need the air, but I almost don’t want it. If this is how I go, it’ll be the sweetest death of all time.

I give her one last kiss before sitting back, and I peer up at her. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, her eyes still screwed tightly shut. There’s a faint sheen of sweat along her forehead, but I swear she looks more relaxed than I’ve ever seen her before.

She peels her eyes open one at a time, then looks down at me.

“Well?” I ask, brow raised. “How’d I do?”

She laughs breathlessly. “I think you just earned that A-plus.”

“You’ve never been to a hockey game before?”

She shakes her head. “Nope. I mean, I’ve watched plenty thanks to Macie, but I’ve never attended a live game.”

“Well, we’ll have to change that. You can come to one of mine, cheer me on.” I tug at the jersey she’s still wearing. “Maybe you can wear this. The number thirteen suits you.”

Completely stuffed from the cold pizza we devoured, we’re lounging on the couch, both refusing to move. Scout has her legs draped over my lap, and every time she wiggles around, I get to see what’s underneath her shirt—nothing.

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“You do remember our whole virgin conversation, right?”

“Well, yeah,” she says, picking at her sleeve, not looking at me. “But I assume you’ve had girlfriends or girls at your games.”

“No.”

She slowly drags her eyes to me. “No?”

“You heard me. No, I’ve never had a girlfriend before, and I definitely don’t bring random girls to my games like some guys in the league who hand their game tickets out to whatever puck bunny they find. That’s not my style.”

Her mouth forms an O. “You’ve never had a girlfriend?”

“I didn’t go to prom or homecoming. I never missed a day of school or snuck out of the house or went to a frat party. I’ve also never had a job that wasn’t hockey.”

Her eyes grow bigger and bigger the longer the list gets. “That’s…wow. You weren’t kidding when you said your entire life has been hockey.”

“I really wasn’t.”

“Is that… How do you feel about it? Do you regret it?”

I wave my hand around my apartment, which costs a ridiculous amount of money. “It’s kind of hard to sometimes.” Keeping one hand on her leg, I squeeze the back of my neck with the other. I exhale a heavy breath. “But sometimes, yeah. I just feel like I’ve missed out on so much, you know? I hear stories from the other guys about goofy shit they used to do, but I don’t have any stories like that. When I say my parents were dead set on me making it into the NHL, I mean it. They had my sister when they were young and broke. Then I came along, and they were really broke then. Until they realized I had skills. So, I became everything to them. I was their future, their retirement plan.”

She doesn’t say anything for several moments, and when I finally look over to check on her, I’m surprised to find her face red with anger.

“What?”

“That is the most fucked-up thing I’ve ever heard, Miller.”

I laugh, though there isn’t an ounce of humor in it. “It is pretty fucked up, huh?”

“Yes!” She shuffles around until she’s sitting up more. “You’re not a retirement plan. You’re their fucking kid. They should have never, ever done that to you. They took so much away.”

“But they gave me a lot too.”

“What? Money? That comes and goes. They should have let you be a kid, make stupid mistakes, experience things—not make your entire life about a game so they had something to fall back on. It makes me so mad.”

“It makes me mad too.”

“How’s your relationship now that you are where you are?”

“The same as it’s always been. When my career is riding a high, they’re happy and leave me alone. But when I slip…that’s when I hear from them, and it’s just so they can tell me to be better.”

She shakes her head in disgust. “I’m so sorry. You deserve better than that.”

She’s right; I do, but right now, it’s not a battle I want to fight. Right now, I just want to find what makes me happy, and at this moment, it’s Scout.

Before she can protest, I reach over and haul her into my lap until she’s straddling me.

“Hi,” I say once I have her right where I want her. Her mouth is mere inches from mine, and I want to devour it.

“Hi,” she repeats with a smile. “What are you doing?”

“I’m changing the subject.”

“Oh?”

“Yep. Anatomy. Wait, no—I meant sex ed.”

She giggles. “Is that so?”

“Yes. I think I’m failing, and I need a tutor. Could you help?”

Scout wiggles, and I know there’s no way she doesn’t feel my very hard dick, which my sweatpants are concealing rather poorly.

“I think I can give you some pointers.”

I drive my hips into her. “I can give you some pointers.”

She pulls back, screwing her face up. “That was terrible.”

I laugh, tugging her back to me and giving her a gentle kiss. “It really was. This is why I need help.”

“Clearly.”

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes to earn a passing grade. Maybe some extra credit?”

“Extra credit, huh?”

“Yes. Anything.”

“Kiss me, then.”

So, I do. Our pace is slow and sweet as I take my time with her, our tongues moving together in perfect rhythm. I slip my hands under the jersey, cupping her ass and massaging her cheeks as she grinds her hips against me.

Fuck. My cock is aching, hurting even. I need a release, and I need it badly. I’ve never felt like this before, like I could combust and never be the same again. I shouldn’t be surprised, though—everything with Scout seems to feel different.

She dances her fingers under my shirt, lightly dragging her fingernails over my abdomen. It feels good, but I want to feel more.

I break our kiss just long enough to strip my shirt from my body, then I pull her mouth back to mine. I try to bring her back toward me, but she shakes her head, shoving me back against the couch.

She tugs the jersey over her head.

And that’s how Scout ends up naked in my lap.

She’s gorgeous. Her deep brown hair is still a little damp from her shower, and I love the way it curls around her shoulders. Her cheeks are painted red from our kissing, and her eyes are glassy with desire.

Yeah, her stomach has rolls, there are stretch marks on her skin, and her hips and legs have dimples all over them, but I love every single fucking inch of her.

I reach out, dragging my finger across one of the deeper red marks on her belly. The first thought I have is dumb. Does it hurt? Of course it doesn’t. Or maybe it does, just not in a physical way.

I continue tracing the others, then run my fingertips over the dimples on her legs. I do it not only because I love them, but because I want her to know I’m not bothered by them at all. She’s made a few comments about her body and how she’s not the “typical” woman I would date, whatever the fuck that means, and it pains me to think she would believe she’s not enough for me just because of something silly like stretch marks or cellulite.

Her body is beautiful, but she’s more than that. She’s Scout, and that’s what I like so much about her.

“Please say something,” she whispers.

When I finally shift my eyes to her face, I see she’s looking at me with worry in hers.

“Can I suck on your tits?”

A laugh bubbles out of her. “That was kind of the plan.”

I don’t waste a second, leaning forward and capturing one of her nipples between my teeth. She groans the second the tight, pink bud touches my tongue, and all I can think is, I love it too, Scout.

I play with her breasts, moving from one to the other, sucking and licking and kissing them until she’s rocking against my painfully hard cock. There’s an obvious wet spot forming on my sweats, and seeing how turned on she is right now is about to send me over the edge.

I grip her hips, stilling her movements because I’m about two seconds from embarrassing myself and need her to stop moving.

“No. No, no, no,” she chants. “I need…”

“Scout, if you keep rubbing against me, I’m going to come in my pants.”

Her eyes pop open, and I swear, based on the look in her eyes, she likes the idea of that.

“I want to see.”

“What?”

“I want to see you come.”

I’ve never jacked off in front of a girl before, and the thought of doing it makes me momentarily nervous, but I don’t care. I need to come, and if it’s what Scout wants, I want it too.

I pull my sweats down as far as I can with her still on my lap, letting my cock spring free between us. She stares down at me, her tongue darting out of her mouth to wet her lips, liking what she sees.

Funny, because I’m liking what I see too—a naked Scout on my lap with her pussy drenching my thighs.

Unable to help myself, I reach out, slipping two fingers between her legs. She lets out a soft moan when I pump two fingers inside of her, running circles over her clit with my thumb.

But just as soon as she begins rocking against me, I remove them.

“Ugh, you’re the worst. I—”

Her words die on her lips when she watches the hand that’s coated in her move around my cock and begin to stroke.

“Oh god,” she mutters, unable to look away.

I press my free hand against her lower belly and use my thumb to put pressure on her clit as she moves her hips in time with me. She can’t take her eyes off me, and I can’t take mine off her as I continue to stroke myself.

“I’m so close, Miller,” she says, her breaths coming in sharper and sharper by the second. “So…ahhh.”

Her body convulses as she falls apart, and I feel it. The sight of her with her head thrown back, tits still on full display and red from the scratchiness of my beard is almost enough to send me over the edge.

“Shit, Scout. I’m going to come.”

“Do it.” She cups the back of my neck, scratching her nails along my skin. “On me. Do it on me.”

I look up to make sure she’s not joking—and she’s not. Her eyes are glazed over, and her face is red and she’s breathing hard, but there isn’t an ounce of her that’s kidding. I’ve never been more fucking turned on.

I watch her as she watches me, jacking myself until I’m spilling all over her stomach and tits.

Fuck me.

The sight of my cum on her is killing me because I love the idea of marking her up, claiming her, making her mine.

She reaches down, smearing her finger through a bit of it, playing with it.

Then I watch with absolute fucking delight as she drags her finger through the mess and licks it clean.

It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed.

Not caring that she’s just had me in her mouth, I crash my lips to hers, kissing her until we’re both gasping for air.

When we finally break, she sags against me, not caring about the mess between us as we work to catch our breath. I might be an athlete with amazing stamina, but holy hell, I am tired right now. I feel like I could close my eyes and fall asleep.

I’m not sure how long we sit there or how many strangled breaths we gasp in, but it’s long enough for her to go quiet.

“Hey,” I whisper, “are you asleep?”

She shakes her head, peeling herself off me and back up into a sitting position. There’s a lazy grin on her face, which makes me grin.

“No. I’m just exhausted.”

“Good exhausted?”

“Very, very good.” Her smile grows wider. “Not bad for a first sleepover, Miller. Not bad at all.”