Page 46 of Pucker Up
I took my phone from my pocket and clicked on an app, fighting a surge of jealousy at the fact that there was a man in Goldie’s life. “That’s handy.” I found myself hoping her landlord was eighty years old with white hair. “I’ll get us a black car.”
“Oh no.” Goldie’s patting had become frantic.
“What’s wrong?”
“My keys. They were in my pocket. They must have fallen out…” She turned and took a few steps back the way we’d just walked and then threw her hands into the air. “Anywhere. They could be anywhere.”
“Then it’s settled.”
She turned to face me, her brow knitted. “What’s settled?”
“We can wait until your study is over before dating—but tonight doesn’t count.”
The widest smile I’d seen all night spread across her face. “Tonight doesn’t count.” She reached for my hands.
“But we will take it slowly.” I said it for my benefit as much as hers.
“What does ‘slowly’ mean?” She stood on her tiptoes and in an automatic reflex, I kissed her softly.
“What does it mean to you?”
“We won’t get naked?” I couldn’t tell whether it was a question, or her response. She pressed her body into mine and I wished I could erase the wordslowlyfrom my vocabulary.
“No getting naked.” It was going to be tough, but I knew the value of delayed gratification. In hockey, sometimes waiting to take the shot made it ten times better. If that was the case with Goldie, by the time I slipped inside her, it would be better than winning the Cup.
She bit her lip. “Take me to your place before I turn into a popsicle.”
SEVENTEEN
GOLDIE
The heat blastedin the lobby and the hallways of Ace’s downtown condo building, and it was a shocking temperature difference from the street. The extreme cold hadn’t impacted me though. With Ace nearby, and maybe the influence of his heavy vodka pours, heat pulsed through my body.
My mind raced as the elevator whisked me and Ace high into the sky. What was I thinking? All I wanted was to feel his skin pressed against mine, and stupid me told him we needed to keep our clothes on?
The booze that had been streaming through my veins had subsided a little, and part of me wished I had drunk more. Being tipsy had given me the courage to ask for what I wanted. Drunk me hated the fact that Ace was a gentleman, but I knew sober me would appreciate his chivalry. Still, if Ace had pulled his cock out of his pants in that alley, I would’ve unzipped mine.
It was so unlike me. I’d never had sex in a public place before, and it wasn’t the risk of getting caught that had left my cotton panties damp between my legs—it was Ace.
Ever since I saw him on the shore of the Polar Plunge, my body had wanted his. Now that I’d gotten to know him, I wantedhim, all of him, and in every way possible. “Ace,” I whispered as we stepped into the hallway of the forty-fourth floor.
He pulled a set of keys from his inside pocket and we stepped into his loft. “Yeah?” he replied. The entryway was the size of my living room and kitchen combined. The ceilings soared at least twenty feet above our heads. I waited until he shut and locked the door. “I don’t want to take it slowly tonight.”
He froze for a moment and when he turned, he looked…different. His lips were narrowed into a line and his eyes looked tormented. My heart pounded; I couldn’t believe I had been so bold. Was he going to say no?
I rested my hand on his chest and closed my eyes. A gasp escaped my lips before I could stop it. With my eyes shut, I saw Ace and me in bed. A king-sized bed with turmeric-colored sheets. Ace’s abs rippled and tensed as he thrust into me. The v-cut that angled out of the top of his boxer shorts was working hard, flexing as the veins in his rock-hard cock rubbed inside me in the best way possible. His eyelashes fluttered as he gripped my hips.
My eyes snapped open as he spoke, interrupting the r-rated vision that had manifested itself physically in my body. The vision might have been in my imagination, but the thrum between my legs was very real. “I don’t want to take it slowly either, Goldie, but I want to do things right with you.”
When I pulled my hand from his chest, it felt like I’d held it over a candle for too long. Thoughts raced through my confused mind—what had I just seen and felt? Had I “seen” what Ace wanted, or had I seen the future?
Whatever it was, I didn’t care. I wanted it. Ace might want to do things right, but what was right and what was wrong? I was tired of being a good girl. Plus, how could this feel so right, and be wrong? “Ace.” I patted his chest. “Want to make a bet?”
He shifted and bit his lip. “What kind of a bet?”
“If I can guess the color of your sheets, I get the bed. If I’m wrong, I’ll sleep on the sofa.” It wouldn’t have been terrible; the sofa was as wide as my bed at home.
He smirked. He thought I would lose. “Deal.”
