Page 90 of You Had Me at Hockey

Josh climbs onto the bed and stretches out on his back. The hard-packed muscles of his abs and chest are so freakin’ perfect. I love the bulge of his thigh muscles and the black ink on his shoulder.

I strip out of my clothes while he watches with blazing-hot eyes, and follow him onto the bed on my knees.

“Come sit on my face,” he orders me in a tone as rough as tree bark. I crawl toward him and turn around, straddling his chest, my legs pressed to his ribs. He lays his hands on my ass as I reach for his cock

Oh Jesus…his tongue slides slowly up and down my slit. I open my mouth on him again, but it’s hard to focus with his mouth on my pussy. I plant my hands into the mattress on either side of his hips and slide my mouth over him, as deep as I can take him, then lifting back up. I love the feel of him in my mouth, so solid and large and vital. I trace his veins, then slick my tongue over the tight crown.

His mouth works at me. I feel like my bones are melting, my skin is burning, my head is whirling. Then he stops, his hands sliding up my back, and I hear a low growl of pleasure. I keep sucking him and then his tongue touches me again, sending electric sensation jolting through me.

I need to come, but my orgasm is out of reach and it’s not going to happen if I’m concentrating on his beautiful cock and making him feel good.

“This isn’t working for me.” I roll off him and onto my back, panting.

He jackknifes up, his abs flexing, and leans over, his lips wet. “No?”

“Too much going on. And I want you inside me.”

“You got it, babe.” He grabs a condom, moves over me, and pushes inside me. I reach for his sides and hold on as he gradually eases in, watching my face.

“Oh yeah…yeah…that’s so good.”

He dips his head to kiss me, his mouth still damp from eating me. “So fucking good. You’re such a hot little thing.”

I can’t hold back a whimper, his words making my insides melt, and I grow slicker around him. “Harder.”

I grip his shoulders as he pounds into me, growling filthy words against my ear. I tip my pelvis and, as if he knows, he grabs a pillow and shoves it under my hips. When he thrusts back in, his body drags over my clit. I shudder and reach for it…that sensation, that twisting, turning, tightening coil of sweet, sweet pleasure. He rocks on me, filling me with beautiful, brilliant pleasure that spikes up almost painfully…holding me suspended, burning, then flooding me with bliss. “There,” I gasp. “Oh Jesus.”

His breath is hot on my ear as he goes after his own release. “Sara,” he groans, driving in even deeper, holding his big body tight against mine as he shudders through his climax. “Fuck, Sara…”

I kiss his shoulder and hold on tighter, our bodies sticky and glued together, still pulsing.

“Wow,” I mumble. “It just keeps getting better.”

—

Josh has a bunch of home games in a row, but I’m off to Los Angeles for a few days. Spring is coming to New York, but I still enjoy the warm sun and palm trees in California. I stay in downtown L.A. at the Bonaventure, since the offices of Tryst and Genuine People are both near there. We meet with Tryst first, and my ego gets a bit of a boost.

“We think a partnership would be mutually beneficial,” the young woman tells me. Her name is Jandy. “These days, brands are looking for partnerships that already have a captive audience. And you definitely have that. Your Instagram is killer, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

“And of course the views on your YouTube channel are insane. You have such authenticity with young people. So much…cachet. That makes you a perfect brand ambassador.”

“Well, that’s great to hear. But…you said mutually beneficial…”

Jandy smiles. “Right. Our brand is one of the top luxury brands this year. We’re not up there with Louis Vuitton and Hermès, but we’re getting to be very well known, and we’ve been expanding our digital reach. We believe it would expand your brand as well, to upscale urban consumers.”

I nod, trying not to chew on my bottom lip. That’s a fair point.

“What we’d love to see is you as the face of our new denim line.”

“Oh.” That’s not what I’d been thinking. Tryst isn’t known for jeans.

She tells me more about the line and their plans for it, and the dude with her, Dorian, shows us a presentation on the screen on one wall. Very slick, very glamorous. I like the jeans.

The next day we meet with Genuine People. They don’t have to sell me on their fashion; I already know and love it. But they try anyway. I actually meet with the founder of Genuine People, Janaya Wright, who’s not much older than me, and her marketing VP.

“We aim to create timeless clothing that balances modernity with femininity,” she says. “We use luxury fabrics and expert craftsmanship. Our clothing is luxurious and yet very wearable and fluid, allowing you to really make a statement. We’re also passionate about sustainability and local production. We’ve launched a denim recycling program that encourages customers to bring their old jeans back to a brick-and-mortar store. We recycle and transform the denim into insulation for homes.”

---