Page 30 of Hockey Halloween
I take her performance as a challenge. Instead of walking away, ending this conversation, I gather her in my arms. She steadies herself with her hands against my chest, her eyes widening at the feel of muscles through my shirt. Or I’m guessing that’s what shocks her.
“All kissing is gross, or the thought of kissing me is gross?” I push the mask to her forehead so nothing impedes my view of her entire face. I’m reminded of our surroundings when a rowdy group of Aspenridge students passes us. Should I stop? Forget the fact of me kissing her, I didn’t consider where we are. Perhaps this isn’t the best place to act on my feelings. While my bedroom would be ideal, I have to work up to that.
“We should test the theory.”
“What theory?” Thank goodness my mouth isn’t waiting for my brain to connect the dots.
“The theory, whether it’s kissing you or in general. First, you kiss me. Then if I like it, I’ll go find another willing guy?—”
Fuck no.
My mouth crashes to hers, swallowing whatever scientific bullshit she was going to spew and her gasp of surprise. This time, she goes pliant in my arms, relaxing into the kiss, becoming a participant.
I sink into it, the feel of her lips against mine soft. When the urge to deepen it hits, I don’t bother asking for permission. I take what I want and what she’s giving.
She lifts to her tiptoes, her tongue seeking entrance into my mouth. I grant it immediately, needing the feel of her pressed against me like I need skates strapped to my feet for hockey.
It’s everything I thought it would be and more. Sweet, innocent, yet sexy. Every side of Delia wrapped into one moment. A moment I hope never stops.
Delia pulls away first, the distance between our mouths feeling like a crater of the Grand Canyon, though it’s merely inches. I stare down at her, her lip gloss smeared, her lips swollen. My ego puffs knowing I did that. Her breaths are heavy pants, mine mirroring hers.
“Yay or nay? Gross or not?”
Her head bobs from side to side, drawing out the suspense. A tiny smirk gives her away, and the nerves all but disappear. “So gross.” She rolls her eyes, the smirk deepening. “Don’t ever do it again.”
I lean in close to her ear, eliciting a hitch in her breath. “You bet your ass I’m doing it again.” She sucks in a breath. Having her right where I want her, I prattle on, “Think maybe you want to skip the haunted house?”
“Whatever will we do instead?” she drawls, a Southern accent creeping into her tone.
“Oh, it’ll be kissing. Just not your mouth. Better pucker up, pumpkin.”
Delia
Sexier words have never been spoken.
As much as I was looking forward to the haunted house, the challenge—thepromise—Xavier issues wets my panties. Except do I look like I’m easy if I immediately give in?
I’m too horny to test out the theory. The man kissed me, after I told him my most embarrassing secret. It’s no mystery he wants me. A glance down at the steel rod in his pants confirms it.
“So, skip the haunted house and go directly to your bedroom? Is that the plan?”
Xavier doesn’t answer with words. It’s in action.
In about ten seconds, he spins me around, leaves his hand on the small of my back, and directs me back in the direction we came. Faster this time. A man with a plan. I can’t say I’m upset.
“Wait. Your pumpkin head. Aren’t you worried about the fallout from your teammates?”
Xavier stalls our walk for a moment before he waves his hand in the air. “Don’t care. Got more important matters to worry about. Rapid-fire questions as we walk. Yes or no answers only.” His hand returns to my back, resuming our trek.
“Okay?” A knot twists in my stomach, wondering what he’s going to ask.
“Virgin?”
“No.”
“You on birth control?”
“No.”
