Page 63 of Match Penalty

“Fuck, Cammy,” he groans, his lips tracing a slow, agonizing path down my neck, his stubble scraping just enough to make my breath hitch. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

I do. Because he does the same to me.

His hands slide lower, gripping my thighs before lifting me onto the edge of the Zamboni. I brace myself against the machine as he steps between my legs, his body flush against mine, nothing between us now.

“JP,” I breathe, my fingers threading into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan.

His mouth claims mine again, slower this time, deeper—like he’s savoring the moment, like he’s trying to memorize every inch of me. His hands explore the curve of my waist, the dip of my spine, the heat between my thighs.

Then he stills, his forehead pressed against mine, his breath ragged. “I don’t have a condom.” His voice is rough, like it pains him to admit it. “Tell me this is okay. Tell me you want this.”

I don’t hesitate. “I do. I’m on birth control,” I whisper, my nails digging into his shoulders as I pull him impossibly closer. “I want you, JP. I’ve always wanted you.”

Something shifts in his expression, something desperate and reverent, like the weight of my words hit deeper than I expected.

Then he’s there, aligning himself with me, the thick head of his cock pressing against my entrance. His breath shudders as he pushes forward, the slow, torturous slide of him stretching me inch by inch stealing the air from my lungs.

A strangled moan escapes me, my head tipping back as my body adjusts to the sheer fullness of him.

“Cammy,” he groans, his hands gripping my hips, holding me steady as he bottoms out, completely buried inside me. “Jesus, you feel—” He cuts himself off with a curse, his forehead dropping to my shoulder as he exhales heavily.

We stay like that for a moment, our bodies locked together, our breaths mingling in the heated air of the garage. The scent of ice and machinery lingers faintly, but all I can focus on is him—his warmth, his scent, the way his fingers tighten just enough to let me know he’s barely holding on.

Then he moves.

Slow at first, his hips rolling against mine, dragging out the sensation until I’m trembling beneath him. His hands slide up my ribs, his thumbs grazing the sensitive undersides of my breasts before his mouth follows, lips closing around my hardening nipple, sucking just enough to make my back arch pressing me further into him.

I whimper, my nails raking down his back as I rock against him, meeting each thrust with a desperation that makes my head spin.

“Fuck,” he groans against my skin. “You’re perfect. This—” He thrusts deeper, hitting just the right spot to make my vision blur. “This is fucking perfect.”

He speeds up, our bodies moving together in a rhythm that’s both frantic and unhurried, like we’re both desperate and unwilling for it to end too soon. Each roll of his hips sends pleasure rippling through me, my body tightening, coiling, ready to snap.

I gasp, my legs tightening around his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper.

His hand slips between us, his fingers finding the swollen bundle of nerves between my thighs, as if he knows my body better than I do. The moment he presses down, my body shatters around his cock. Pulsating over and over, squeezing him tight inside of me, milking him as I come.

I cry out his name, clinging to him as I free fall from the cliff, diving into an ocean of white-hot bliss, my vision almost blacking out as I come harder than I thought was physically possible.

JP curses, his grip on my hips tightening as he thrusts once, twice more before he stills, his entire body tensing as he finds his own release, spilling into me with a guttural groan. Filling me completely, without a condom.

For a long moment, neither of us moves. The only sound in the garage is our ragged breathing.

Then, with a satisfied sigh, JP pulls me against him, cradling me in his arms. He kisses the top of my head, his lips lingering as he murmurs, “I think I’m going to need to drive the Zamboni more often.”

I let out a breathless laugh, my body still humming from the aftershocks. “As long as I’m your passenger.”

His arms tighten around me, his voice filled with certainty. “You're the only one. I promise.”

JP’s lips brush against my temple, his arms still wrapped around me as we catch our breath. The heat between us lingers, but now it feels so much more than just sex… everything feels so different.

“I walked here from the apartment, but I saw your car in the players parking lot. Can I drive you home? I’m not ready to let you out of my sight yet.”

I should say no. Should maintain some distance. But… I don’t want to anymore. He told me that he’ll tell me what happened in San Diego, as soon as he can. Maybe I need to trust him—but can I?

God, I want to.

"Okay," I hear myself say.

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