Page 207 of Playing the Pucking Game

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PARKER

Iswear my body is going to burst into flames at any moment.

I thought him having my vibrator and being in control of my orgasm was hot. But that had nothing on watching him slowly work himself.

His grip is tight, the muscles running down his corded forearm are taut, his abs are tense, and the V lines that cut down to his cock are deeper than ever.

He looks like my every dirty fantasy come to life.

With my vibrator pressed against my clit, my next release builds faster than I thought possible.

I can have multiples, but usually only when I’m alone. I’ve never had more than one with a man. They’ve never cared enough to bother. Linc, though, seems to care more about my pleasure than his own. Something tells me that if I’d agreed, he’d have disappeared into the bathroom to find his release without a fuss.

I hate the idea of that. Especially after what he just gave me.

“Fuck, Parker,” he grunts as his pace begins to pick up.

“Oh god,” I moan, my legs widening until my thighs rest against the mattress.

His eyes are locked on what I’m doing with my vibrator, as if he’s learning what I like and how I touch myself.

“Are you going to come for me again, pretty girl?”

“Yes, yes,” I cry as my pussy contracts around nothing.

I need more. I need him.

Another moan rumbles up my throat as I imagine how it would feel if he shuffled forward and pushed himself inside me.

I want it.

I want it so badly, but…

If we go there, we can’t take it back.

I managed to put him behind me once. I’m not strong enough to do it again.

Just doing this is dangerous enough.

But more…

No.

I can’t.

I won’t survive it.

No matter what Kodie says, or the differences I see in Linc, it doesn’t mean that anything has changed.

He’s still Lincoln Storm, the ice hockey player who loves to party.

He’s still my big brother’s best friend.

He’s still my colleague.

I’ve barely got my feet under the table at work; the last thing I need is everyone talking about me being in a relationship with a player.

It’s one of the least professional things I could do.

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