Page 62 of The Slapshot and the Single Mom
But the feeling of her hands rolling it on me is enough to make my eyes roll back in my head. And when she strokes me a few times …Ungh.
“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna last long if you keep that up,” I murmur, though I make no move to stop her.
She gives me a couple more strokes, though they’re slow, and when I open my eyes to look at her, she has a thoughtful expression on her face.
Arching one eyebrow, I ask, “What’s with that look?”
After one more stroke and squeeze, she lifts one shoulder. “Sometime I think it’d be fun to make you lose control. And watch.”
“Oh, yeah?”
She dips her chin in a nod, lifting herself up on her elbows. “Maybe later, though. Right now, I need you.”
And that’s all she has to say. I spread myself over her, gathering her up in my arms, loving the way she embraces me with her arms and thighs, the way she gasps when I nudge my way inside her, the tight grip of her pussy as I slide home.
I hold still, needing a moment so I don’t explode right away. I’ve always prided myself on not being a minute man, and since I didn’t take time to get Maggie off first, I want to make sure I don’t blow before she even gets started.
I spend a long time kissing her, but when she starts moving beneath me, I can’t hold myself back anymore. I do my best to keep it slow and deep, pressing one of her legs back toward her chest and bracing it against my shoulder because I know that makes me hit her in just the right spot. The change in her reaction is immediate. Her fingers dig into my shoulder when I thrust, her breath catching then coming faster as I wring those soft sounds of pleasure out of her.
I’ve been able to get her all the way there this way, but I’m worried I won’t be able to last long enough for what she needs. So I lick my thumb and reach between us, rubbing her clit in tight circles, familiar enough with her by now to know how to give her exactly what she needs.
In almost no time, she detonates. Her orgasm sends me into overdrive, and in seconds, I’m following her into ecstasy. When I finish, I wrap my arms around her and roll to my side, taking her with me, still connected.
And happier than I’ve ever been.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Maggie
My job searchisn’t going well at all. It’s mid-September, Liam’s back in school, and Jack’s due to start training camp next week. The deadline for starting a new job or facing reprisals from Brock is rapidly approaching.
I don’t know what I’m going to do …
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Maggie
“Oh, Maggie!”Brock calls when I try to sneak into my office. I’m not sure why I bothered trying to sneak in today. It’s not like he wouldn’t figure out I’m here eventually. I guess because I’d hoped to delay the inevitable.
I pause in the hallway outside my door, pack of Red Vines in one hand, coffee in the other. Yeah, it’s first thing in the morning. No, Red Vines are not part of a nutritious breakfast. But I know I’m going to need the fortification today.
“Look what I found!” he gloats, holding out his phone and wiggling it back and forth.
I don’t even need to look to know what it is. Jack and I went to a baseball game again last night. Jack knows I’m stressed about something, and since the regular season is nearly over and he’ll be starting training camp soon, he wanted to make sure we got to one more game while we could. I know he assumes it’s the upcoming mediation next month and the increase in Kyle’s bullshit since I filed that has me on edge. And while he’s notentirely wrong about that assumption, he doesn’t know about Brock’s threat.
Jack already hates Brock. And for good reason. I don’t know what he’d do if he knew Brock was using our relationship to threaten me, though. I can only imagine it wouldn’t end well for anyone. And since the stated point of starting our relationship was to rehab his reputation in the press—even if it’s turned into so much more—I can’t allow him to ruin all the positive gains we’ve made by letting his instincts take over where Brock’s concerned.
Jack’s very protective. Of me. Of Liam, even though he’s only met Liam a few times. I’m sure it’s mostly because Liam’s my son and therefore important to me, but I think Jack also sympathizes with Liam to some degree since Jack’s parents divorced when he was growing up.
He has definite opinions about Kyle’s behavior, and none of them are sympathetic toward Kyle in any way, which always makes me smile. It’s nice to see someone other than my parents—who’ve always been on my side—want to stick up for Liam and me like that.
And while the fantasy of watching Jack barge in and punch Brock in the face in the middle of Brock filming some stupid interview—though those have been harder to come by since his hatchet job on the interview with Jack in May—is lovely, I know Brock would be sure to splash that all over everywhere, reaching out to news outlets, calling the police, the works. And despite my job of being social media manager, no amount of damage control in my power would be able to forestall or roll back the damage Brock would let loose if provoked. He’s the exact type of arrogant and insecure man-child to throw a tantrum and play the victim even when he’s getting exactly the response he deserves.
Well-practiced in handling Brock and his stupidity, I paste a bored expression on my face and sip my coffee. “New gossip you want me to post? Who’s it about this time? Did they find out that another football player was involved in the Super Bowl ticket thing?”
He chortles. Fuckingchortles, and moves next to me so we can look at his phone screen together. “No. That’s old news. They were fined, it was a slap on the wrist. We’ll mention it on the next segment, but I don’t plan on spending a lot of time on it. Not when we have this.”
On the screen in his hand is a zoomed in picture of Jack and me looking cozy at the game. I’m watching the action with a slight smile on my face while he’s leaning close to me and whispering something in my ear. We look like any other couple decked out in Mariners gear. I have on the jersey he bought me last month, he’s wearing a Mariners T-shirt, and we both have on hats.
