Page 35 of Rookie Season
“All right, Rookie. Show me what you’ve got.”
Triumph flares in his dark eyes.
His hand travels up my leg. I’m sliding closer to the edge, his other hand on my hip. The one up my leg finds the top of my tights with stars on them. He yanks them down.
My fingers splay over his sweater, and I wish I could feel his skin underneath, the hard ridges and smooth muscles. But he takes my hand and places it on the bar next to me, nudging me backward. His fingers find the edge of my thong, then slip beneath, and he groans. His thumb strokes right where I need him most.
My head falls back, my spine arching. I can’t even play it cool because he’s playing with me as though it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted to do.
I realize the curtains are open.
“No one’s out there,” he says, reading my mind.
“How the hell do you know?”
“You can’t get a car down this street. I had to park three blocks away and walk.”
I should be doing something with that information, but I can’t because the ache he’s creating and solving all at once is more important than thinking.
Maybe more than breathing.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he says with total satisfaction.
He presses another finger inside, changing up the rhythm to a slow drag that destroys me.
My body pulls tight. I can’t lie back here. I shift off my elbows, my hands finding his shoulders.
He lowers his face, lips parted. He’s breathing heavily too. “Sierra…”
I don’t kiss him. Instead, I bury my face in his sweater and grip him harder as my body tightens.
He doesn’t say anything, but his thumb presses harder, rubbing little circles right above where he’s slowly pumping in and out of me. My nails find his neck, digging in hard. His breath is shaky, but he doesn’t resist.
When I come, it’s more like shattering. The tension I’ve been carrying for way too long feels as if it all releases at once, like a star detonating into space. Pleasure rushes through every nerve. Tremors rack my body before dissipating into the air around us.
Ryan withdraws, and I realize I’m still clutching him.
His eyes flash, and his hands go for his belt. I can’t tell if I’m helping or slowing him down, but we get his zipper down.
Ryan fishes in his wallet for a condom, and the sound of the foil crinkling when he locates one is pure relief. I take the package wordlessly and tear into it, setting the condom on his hard cock before rolling it down.
And shit, he’s big, though I’m not about to make his ego swell by saying the words.
I encourage him between my thighs, the press of him where his fingers just left feeling too sensitive. But there’s no time to slow down because he’s sinking inside me. The stretch, the burn, the slide sends every nerve in me crackling with heat.
This is definitely the most fun I’ve had on this bar.
Whatever exhaustion I was feeling an hour ago feels light-years away. There’s only this desire, this need, this pleasure.
He rocks his hips against me. “Fuck,” he groans against my neck. “You feel so damned good.”
I shift on my elbows to meet him.
The drag of our bodies, the heat, is addictive. In a few short strokes, his breath is shallow, my heart hammering.
“Oh, shit. I can’t wait…”
His grunt is low and guttural, coupled with the feel of him clenching. One of my hands digs into his arm, the other sliding between us. I’m still on edge from the last time, so I get myself there, my fingers digging into his muscles as I ride it out.
