The Romance Line (Love and Hockey Book 2)

Max

She kisses me hard enough to hurt. She’s all tongue and teeth and need, kissing and biting and devouring. My pulse surges, and my brain is spinning out just from the hunger of her kiss. The desire in it. The urgency.

Everly’s frenzied tonight, and it’s mind-bending to get to know this side of her. It’s such a fucking privilege to know any side of her. But especially the intimate one.

The one I suspect she rarely shows a soul.

I’m such a lucky fucker, and I’m going to do everything I can to deserve this luck. Every damn thing.

It feels too good to be with her. Too right.

As she explores my mouth greedily, she pushes at my gray Henley, tugging at the hem with eager hands ready to strip me.

What the lady wants…

I wrench my mouth from hers. Her lips are bruised, and it’s a beautiful look. I pluck at the fabric of my shirt, then ask dryly, “I think you might want this off?”

“Yes. Now,” she says in a ravenous demand that sends electricity sparking down my spine.

I tug it off. Her eyes flutter closed for a second like the view is too much. Masculine pride surges through me from her reaction.

When she opens her eyes, I reach for her hands and guide her palms to my pecs.

With a shudder she spreads her fingers over my chest, then slides them down my stomach, tracing the ladder of my abs, traveling to the waistband of my jeans. Teasing at the button. My breath halts, and now I’m the one shuddering from her touch.

Everly’s eyes go big and wide, gleaming with heat as she rubs the heel of her hand over the ridge of my hard cock. “Ohhh, I see you do think about me,” she says wickedly.

“Take it out to be sure,” I toss back.

“Patience,” she teases, then strokes me more through the denim, her smile vanishing and unabashed lust returning to the sensual curves of her mouth. An unbridled sort of lust I’ve been craving to see in them for so long, it turns out.

“Fucking love the way you look at me,” I rasp out.

She drags her teeth across the corner of her lips. “You sure do,” she says, calling me on it.

I grab her hand from my cock so I don’t get too aroused too soon, then slide both of her hands back up my stomach to my chest. “I’m obsessed with it.”

She flicks a finger against one of my nipples and I groan, unbidden. I close my eyes and lean into the thrill of her exploration of me. The way she seems to want to take the lead. How she’s memorizing me with her palms.

She slides them down my shoulders. Over my biceps. Down my forearms. When she wriggles out from under me, I open my eyes again to find she’s risen and is sitting up. She reaches for my face again and hauls me close to her mouth. “Kiss me again, Max,” she whispers in a desperate command. “Kiss me like I’m all you could think about.”

“Easy. Because you are,” I say, then I rope my hand through those glossy strands of hair. Right before I drop my lips to hers, I whisper against them, “This is the first time you’ve had your hair down. You always have a ponytail, and it drives me fucking insane.”

“Because you want to tug on it,” she teases.

“No. Because I want to be the one to undo it. Because I want to be the one to undo you.”

Her eyes are thoroughly unguarded as she runs her hand along my beard, whispering, “You do.”

That confession clearly costs her something. I want to take her honesty and hold it safe, and I try to show her that in how I kiss her. I give her a kiss that is all for her, pouring every bit of my ferocious heart and filthy mind into it. Trying to put all my longing into the way I touch her. Showing her with my lips and my mouth how she has absolutely consumed me.

We kiss till we can’t breathe. We kiss like the world is burning. We kiss like it’s everything we need. When I pull away, she’s panting hard, her eyes glossy with desire. But, something like apprehension flickers in those soulful irises, too, as she asks, “Do you have a condom?”

“Yes. But are you okay?” I ask because I’m more concerned about that flash of worry than I am about my dick. “You look…”

“It’s been a while,” she says with some vulnerability.

“Same for me. I haven’t been with anyone for a year and a half.”

The corner of her lips curve into a grin, then she’s sassy again as she says, “Are you worried you won’t last, Lambert?”

My eyes narrow, and I stare harshly at her. “For that I’m going to give you three orgasms before I get one.”

Her eyes sparkle. “Threaten me again, Max.”

“And I thought I was the troublemaker,” I say.

“You are.”

“Pretty sure you’re trouble too, sunshine,” I say, then shift gears as I tug on the waistband of her sweatpants. “Can I take these off?”

She turns her face to the overhead light. It’s bright, and I flash back to the night we were here. How she dimmed the overheads when we walked in. Wait—is that what the apprehension was really about? Before she says anything else, I ask gently, “Do you want me to turn the lights down?”

She draws a shuddery breath as she sits straighter. “It’s not so much that it’s been a while,” she says softly. “It’s that I…have some scars. Kind of all over. And they’re not like hockey player sexy scars.” Her voice breaks off. My heart squeezes for her as her hand moves to her left hip and she rubs it, while meeting my eyes. “There’re some here.”

“Do you not want me to see them?”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she pushes down her sweatpants, and holy shit. She’s wearing an even sexier pair of panties than last time. How is this possible? They’re sheer lavender, and they barely cover her sweet pussy. When her sweatpants hit the floor, she cups my face, grabs it, then pushes me down to the floor too.

The woman knows what she wants.

She doesn’t want to talk about scars anymore. She wants me to use my mouth for other things. So I listen to her. I settle between her thighs, staring wantonly at the tiny scrap of lace. “Sexy on. Even sexier off,” I say, then I yank them off in a heartbeat so I can bring them to my nose.

Her breath catches. “Is that what you did with them when you stole the pair?”

I draw another inhale of her sexy, aroused scent on the damp fabric, then meet her gaze. “What do you think?”

“You fucked yourself with them,” she says, a grin coasting across her face.

“You bet I fucking did, sunshine,” I say, then I drop the pair to the floor so I can touch her thoroughly, properly, reverently. I slide my hands along her thighs, then hike them over my shoulders, yank her to my face, and kiss her slick, hot pussy.

One taste and I’m groaning. One kiss and my cock is aching harder than it has before.

My hands slide up her thighs as I eat my woman.

She’s hot and wet, her juices covering my beard as I devour her. Her moans grow louder. They go to my dick. They go to my head. They go to my goddamn heart. She grips my face and pulls me close, crying out as I feast on the taste of her. Soon, she’s letting go of all her inhibitions, rocking harder against me, and riding my mouth like a queen. When she digs her nails into my skull, she screams my name.

My mind short-circuits. Pleasure rockets through me in a neon burst. I’m so fucking turned on from her coming fast and hard. When I look up, she’s more beautiful than she ever has been. “That’s one,” I say.

She smiles woozily as I run my hand along her hip where she placed hers earlier—where her scars are. I move my face closer, bend down to her thigh, and press a kiss to her hip where two thick jagged scars crawl along her flesh here. I travel over one with my lips, tenderly kissing its path, then the other.

When I come up for air, I look her in the eyes. It’s like she’s holding her breath. Waiting, hoping.

My brave woman. “There is nothing about you that isn’t beautiful,” I say honestly.

Something serene passes in her eyes as she says a quiet, “thank you.”

I rise, grab a condom from my wallet, then brandish it. “I got this for you.”

“Another gift?” she teases.

“A selfish one. Bought it tonight. What can I say? I was hopeful.”

“So presumptuous,” she says.

I give her a cocky grin. “And I was right.”

She rolls her eyes, but then says, soft again, “You were.”

I push down my jeans and my boxer briefs, freeing my eager dick. Then I sit on the couch and I pick her up so she’s straddling me. She’s naked from the waist down, but she leaves her tank on and her hoodie. It’s zipped up halfway. I don’t try to take it off. I tuck my fingers under her chin. “We can take everything at your pace,” I say, then I run my fingers along the edge of the scar I saw last week so she knows what I mean. “You know that?”

“I do, and I will.” It feels like a promise. Like she’s saying she’ll get there—she wants to, and the look in her eyes makes my chest swell with emotion. Then, my cock swells more when she turns her gaze to the foil packet in my hand. “Why don’t you put that on so I can ride this big dick of yours?”

“Your filthy, beautiful mouth,” I praise as I open the condom, roll it down my length, then smack her ass. “Get the fuck on me. Let me show you how much I want you.”

She sinks down on my dick and inhales sharply.

I shudder. Then I unleash a long string of curses. “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck.”

She lets her head fall back, her long hair spilling down her spine.

I grip her ass and move her up and down my cock. “Look at me while we fuck,” I tell her, my voice stern. “Look at my face. Know how much I want you. You. All of you. Every part of you.”

She rolls her lips, then nods before she murmurs, “Look at me.”

“That’s right,” I say with a dirty smile, proud of her. She keeps her gaze on me the whole time as the slap of flesh grows louder. As our bodies come closer. As I grip her ass harder. Then, as I fuck up into her, I take a chance, dipping my face to her left shoulder and pressing a reverent kiss there on the sliver of exposed skin.

She gasps.

My fingers tease at the fabric. “Can I?”

She winces, but nods a yes. I push the hoodie over to the top of her arm, revealing her flesh as I thrust into her. “Gorgeous,” I say on a raspy groan. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Her breath catches.

I kiss her there like I adore her, because I do .

I fuck her and tell her with my body that I crave her, all of her.

And she rides me, faster, harder, more furious, sending the pleasure in me kicking up. Her voraciousness is a filthy thrill.

“That’s right, sunshine. Use me. Use my dick,” I urge her.

She’s trembling and moaning as I drop a hand between her thighs, rubbing my thumb against her clit till she’s shaking in my arms and falling apart on me.

“Max,” she calls out, my name a filthy prayer as she comes.

Pleasure blasts through me in a hot burst that makes me want to come so fucking hard in her. To meet her there on the other side. But I made her a promise so I say, “Two down. One to go.”

“Get it,” she says, giving me a command.

“I fucking will,” I promise.

I ease out of her briefly, then lay her flat on her back on the couch. I settle between those perfect thighs, my hands spreading up the sides of them.

“Put my dick back in you. I want to watch as you slide my cock into this perfect wet pussy,” I say as I reach for her hand.

Covering it with mine.

Bringing it to my throbbing dick.

Her lips part as she grips the base and guides me back to the pink paradise between her thighs. I stare until my cock disappears inside her once more.

Where it belongs.

Her head falls back against the couch cushion, her eyes closing while her arms reach for me.

The gesture—the need in it—hooks into my heart .

I lower myself onto her, my body covering hers, then I find a pace and fuck her good and insistently until she’s moaning and begging me to make her come again.

Another thrust. Another drive into her. Another electric, white-hot connection, then she’s crying out once more.

I can’t even crow. I can’t even boast with a there we go because I’m too far gone. Words lose meaning as I stop fighting the pleasure. I give in to it, lust jolting through my body as I come hard, blurring out the real world.

I don’t want to return to it. The world is so much better like this, close to her.