Page 115 of Forever Wild
His dick presses through his pants and my leggings onto the ache building between my thighs.
He groans when I tilt my pelvis to increase the pressure.
Jack sits me down on the bed. We’re both panting with need. He pulls the beanie off my head and throws it onto the floor, then runs his hands through my hair. His gaze shifts and he fingers one diamond hoop.
I had every intention of still giving them back, but then I made the mistake of trying them on.
“Thank you for the earrings,” I say. “I love them.”
They’re somehow the most “me” jewelry gift I’ve ever received, while still being something I would never pick out for myself. Mostly because I could never afford them.
His reply is to pull the hem of his dress shirt out of his pants and unbutton it. Which, let’s be honest, is maybe better than an actual “you’re welcome.”
His movements are slow but steady as he takes off his shirt, all while watching me. I am captivated. His body is big and chiseled. A few bruises mark his skin along his ribs and one up high on his right bicep.
The pants go next and as he stands in front of me in just his boxer briefs with a giant bulge in the front, my mouth is dry.
“Sorry I don’t have my gear in here for you to play out your fantasies.”
“You’re my fantasy,” I say, wondering if maybe I shouldn’t admit that so freely to a man like Jack. Is he going to get freaked out and call things off?
He doesn’t really do relationships. He’s had a casual string of women, a month or two at a time, the entirety that I’ve known him.And what if everyone is right? Maybe not hooking up is the key to his success.
He pushes my coat off my shoulders and takes it from me, then his fingers find the hem of my sweater and lift it up. My mind reels as I consider the possible impacts of us finally sleeping together. I could survive without sex until after the playoffs next year. Maybe.
Jack kneels in front of me and takes off my boots. He’s undressing me so meticulously and with such care that my heart both loves that he’s taking his time and hates that it’s giving me so much time to think.
“Are you on birth control?” he asks as his hands graze up my leg and hook around to my hips. His thumbs stroke the skin above the waistband of my leggings.
“Yes.”
“Good. I don’t have condoms here.”
I already trusted that he wasn’t sleeping around, but that he didn’t even bring a condom makes that realization hit a little harder.
“Wait.” I place a hand on his chest and can feel his heart beating as rapid as mine.
“I’ve been tested,” he says. “I’d never put you at risk.”
“No, that’s not it. I trust you.”
His brows pull together.
“What if us not having sex is helping your game?” The words sound even more ridiculous as I say them out loud. But I’m still not ready to dismiss them. He’s having the most amazing season, and I would do anything to keep from wrecking it. He deserves it after the hell he went through to come back.
“You heard about that, huh?” He chuckles. “I’m pretty sure Ash started that rumor.”
“Sounds like him,” I admit. “Do you think there’s any truth to it?”
“Do I think that keeping my dick in my pants has helped me play better hockey?”
“When you put it like that it sounds dumb.”
His grin widens. “Because it is.”
He hovers over me, pushing me onto my back and staring down at me with humor and lust in those dark blue eyes.
“I know, but…” I trail off. I want this man so badly I should just shut up, but he means so much more to me than my next orgasm.
