Page 100 of Don't Leave
“It’s always been you.” My conversation with Jackie tumbles through my head and I add, “And I won’t mess that up again.”
He untangles my arms from around his neck before stepping away and locking his fingers around my wrist, pulling me toward the heavy metal door that leads off the ice.
“Where are we going?”
His heated gaze collides with mine, but he doesn’t stop moving. “To my place.”
A shiver of anticipation dances down my spine at the thought of being alone with him.
“And FYI—you’ll be there for a while,” he adds as if I might argue.
My thighs clench as need crashes through me.
“Can you really wait that long?” It’ll be at least twenty minutes.
He grinds to an abrupt halt before tugging me into his arms again.
“The real question is can you?”
Well…the rinkisclosed to the public for another thirty minutes.
“I don’t know,” I whisper as his mouth strokes over mine. “I really want you.”
The tip of his tongue dances across my lips before slipping inside to mingle with my own. A soft groan fills the silent rink.
I’m pretty sure it came from me.
How many weeks has it been since I’ve felt the slide of his cock deep inside my body?
Way too long.
“We can go in the office,” he offers.
It’s tempting.
So tempting.
But a quickie isn’t what I need right now.
I shake my head. “Once I get you naked, you aren’t going to be putting your clothes on for a while. Let’s head back to your house.”
A wicked gleam ignites in his eyes. “I like the way you think, baby. Let’s go.”
And then he’s once again dragging me off the ice.
We make quick work of shedding our skates and hockey gear before shoving it all into our bags. With my hand held securely in his, we sprint out of the rink. The ride to his place takes ten minutes and I can’t keep my hands off him.
By the time he parks his Mustang in front of the Victorian he shares with five other guys from the hockey team, I want to tear the clothes from his body. I think he must feel the same way since his fingers are already slipping beneath my shirt as we race up the porch stairs before barging through the front door. The thick wood bursts open, reverberating on its hinges before Cole slams it shut. And then we’re running up the staircase. We’re both laughing so hard as our fingers grasp for one another.
“Hey.” Alex lumbers out of the living room wearing a pair of boxers. “I’m glad you’re?—”
“Not now,” Cole yells over his shoulder as he leads me to the second floor. “And probably not for a while. Anyone bothers us, they’re getting their ass kicked. Got it?”
“Yeah, man. I got it.”
Even though I don’t turn around to see his expression, I can hear the humor that simmers in Alex’s deep voice. He knows exactly what’s about to happen.
And you know what?
