Page 101 of Slap Shot

She jerks her chin to look at me. She tips her head back and inhales sharply. This close, I can see a hint of green in her eyes. More freckles across her nose than I thought she had, and there’s no world where I want to start the year with anyone but her.

“Madeline,” I murmur.

“Yeah?” she whispers.

“Maybe we should kiss,” I tell her, not fully knowing what I’m saying. But those lips… and the corner of her mouth… “To see if it brings us good luck.”

“You want to kiss me because you want good luck?”

“Yeah. But I also want to kiss you because I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.”

My eyes roam down the front of her shirt. I know she’s a woman with curves, but I’ve been careful never to look at her for too long.

I’m looking at her now, though, and I marvel at the way the silk hugs her chest. How it fuels my imagination as I think about what her breasts might look like. I’m sure as shit headed to hell for wanting to take her in my mouth and show her anything butmediocre.

Madeline’s movements are slow, tentative. She glances at the TV then back at me. “What else have you been thinking about?”

“You,” I say. “In every way I shouldn’t want you. In every way I can’t have you.”

The one-minute warning comes. Everything narrows down toher, and the careful way she puts a hand on my chest. How her fingers fan out over my shirt and she twists the cotton, pulling me toward her.

As if I wouldn’t go willingly.

As if I wouldn’t fucking crawl or run or climb a mountain to get there.

With thirty seconds to go, her nose brushes against mine. Her exhale is hot against my cheek. I want to feel it against my neck and on my stomach while her lips trail lower down my body. Around my cock as she blinks up at me with a coy smile before taking me in her mouth.

A thousand wicked thoughts race through my head, but I hold back.

I wait for her to tell me how this is going to go, because I’ll be damned if I ruin what feels like a fever dream.

“I’ve been thinking about you, too,” she whispers again.

The announcer counts down from five. He yells outoneas music starts to play, but I barely hear him.

I’m too busy cupping Madeline’s face with both of my hands. Stroking her cheek with my thumb and listening to the shift in her breathing.

She’s so soft, and when she kisses the corner of my mouth, I whimper.

It’s torture—hell on earth—but when she huffs out a laugh at my patheticness and kisses me fully, I’m a lost cause.

A man gone, because she’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted, and once isn’t going to be enough.

A million fucking times won’t be enough.

It’s slow at first. A gentle press of her lips. A swipe of my tongue. Hesitant and learning, but after a minute, when I expect her to pull away, something shifts between us.

Our kiss turns hungrier, rougher, and my hands move from her cheeks to her hair. I wrap the long strands around my wrist, grounding myself to her. Madeline shifts so she’s closer. I lean back and pull her with me, her chest flush against mine as I drop my palm to her waist.

“Hudson,” she breathes out, and I pull away so I can kiss her neck. So I can suck on the skin above her collarbone, and she whines. “Fuck.”

“Should I stop?” I ask.

She shakes her head. Grips my shirt even tighter and lets out a breathy moan when I drag my tongue up the column of her throat. She straddles me, one leg on either side of mine, and I know I’m hard.Sheknows I’m hard—painfully so—and every unintentional roll of her hips has my restraint wavering.

I curse myself for being patient, but none of the things I’m imagining make me a good man at all.

I’m thinking about her, without underwear on, sliding down my cock. How easy it would be to make her moan and how many fingers it would take to get her off.

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