Page 108 of Ruled Out

When Jessie’s finger circles my asshole, already slick from my release, he pushes the tip just inside as he continues to fuck my pussy with his cock.

“Ugh,” he groans. “So good. Fucking you is so damn good.”

“I’m going to come. Like, everywhere.” The same pressure I felt in Jessie’s gym is already building.

“Now?”

“Any second, yes.”

“Unwrap your legs, Mia.”

Jessie thrusts into me one more time and then pulls out, dropping to his knees but holding me in place against the wall, his fingertips digging into my thighs.

“Squirt down my throat,” he commands, sucking my clit into his mouth.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” I repeat over and over as I do exactly as he demands.

His mouth clamps onto me, his tongue continuing to massage my clit as he swallows me down.

When I’ve given him everything I have, he sets me down to my feet and leans over me, his cock still hard.

“My turn,” I say, lowering onto my knees and taking him into my mouth.

One of his hands falls to the top of my head, and he threads his fingers through my hair, pumping his hips as I take his cock as far as I can go.

“Jesus Christ, you suck my dick so damn good.”

I can still taste myself as I continue to work my tongue around his shaft. Knowing this came from him fucking me a second earlier makes me pool with more need, and I suck him harder, tightening my palm around his length.

Jessie sags above me, and I can tell he’s close.

“I need that pussy again,” he groans.

In an instant, I’m back against the wall in the same way I was before, but this time, my legs are even wider as his grip spreads me further apart and open for him.

When he drives himself inside me, all I can see is the way his hair falls over his forehead, his eyes shining in the very faint light creeping in under the door.

Warmth spreads inside me as I feel my boyfriend’s cum pour into my pussy.

His damp, parted lips find mine, and he holds himself there, not kissing me, but not moving either. “Goddammit, Mia Marie Jenkins. I’m so fucking gone for you; you have no idea.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

JESSIE

In the first couple of seasons after I joined the Scorpions and whenever Coach announced we had one-on-one practice drills, I’d be thinking of excuses to explain why I wouldn’t be coming out on top.

I trained too hard in the gym the night before.

I picked up the flu virus that was going around.

I’m not happy with my skates.

Anything, literally anything, to pass off why, Jessie Callaghan—arguably the fastest guy in the NHL with the stick skills to match—couldn’t perform in a drill that was made for him.

The only practice worse than that? Sprints and agility tests between cones. Alcohol slows you down, especially when you still have last night’s session sitting in your system.

It got to the point where I’d forgotten what it was like to feel like myself, not only on the ice, but to actually think straight. All I could focus on was when I’d be able to have my next drink to ease my mind and help push reality back into the box where it belonged.

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