Page 109 of Slap Shot Scandal
The vulnerability, the way she trusts me—she’s giving me something real. Something I don’t want to fuck up.
I press my forehead to hers. Because this isn’t just sex. Not with her. Not now.
Pumping my cock a few times, I line up with her entrance and slide in.
Fucking heaven.
Tight and wet and hot, and I sink in like I’m home.
“Fuck…” I hiss, gripping her hip and pulling her closer. “You’re so fucking tight, baby. Perfect for me.”
“Yes…” she moans, grinding against me.
Our bodies move together, frantically seeking more. More friction, more heat, more of each other.
“You feel that, baby? How fucking deep I am? That’s what you do to me, Hurricane—turn me into a damn animal.”
She arches into me, our bodies slapping together. “God, yes. Weston…don’t stop. I want all of you. Every filthy, perfect inch.”
Hearing her dirty words, I drive into her. Fierce and deep. I want Harbor to remember me and my cock every time she takes a motherfucking step. To feel me inside her still, deep and aching. Pushing her over the edge.
“Harbor…” I kiss her hard on the lips, my tongue tangling with hers. Wrapping my hand around the delicate column of her neck, I squeeze lightly, testing. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t pull away. “Come for me, baby.”
I press on her neck, pistoning into her hard. The door rattles, but I’m not concerned about the noise. Everyone’s downstairs, dancing and drinking.
Harbor unravels in my arms, her body convulsing. I loosen my fingers around her neck and she sucks in a desperate breath as I drive into her. A few thrusts later, I explode, the hot pulse of my release mixing with hers.Pressing her body to mine, I kiss her—hard and deep—my hands stroking her hair, her face.
“God, baby. You’re so fucking perfect.” I hold her to me, heart still racing, sweat cooling on our heated skin. She’s trembling and flushed, wrecked and radiant—and mine.
All mine.
I know—right here, right now—I’d burn down everything in my whole damn life to keep her.
We stay still for a moment longer, wrapped up in silence and sweat and the illusion that this bubble won’t burst. But we’ve already been gone too long.
“Guess we have to go back out there…” I adjust my shirt, tucking away my cock.
“Sadly. I don’t want to leave Piper alone too long though.”
“Hold on, stay still.” I duck into my bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. Gently, I wipe between Harbor’s legs, washing away all the traces of us and tossing the cloth into my hamper.
We redress quickly, and I crack open the door, checking both directions.
“Coast is clear.”
Harbor slips into the hallway first, smoothing her hair down and trying to pretend we didn’t break every rule we made. I follow behind her.
“Damn, Cap. Hope you stretched first.”
One of our defensemen—Ford, a solid D-man with a dry sense of humor and zero filter—is leaning against the wall, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. His gaze flicks to Harbor’s tousled hair and swollen lips, then back to me.
My stomach drops.
Shit.
CHAPTER 30
HARBOR
