Page 49 of Better Not Pout
I never realized just how sensitive my nipples are until Wells.
“So, I headed back here early so I could make you come before we go to the pond for the game.”
My brow pinches. “Pond? Game?”
He nods. “Hockey player, Sugar. Been on ice since I was old enough to walk. We always have a game as a family when we’re all together.”
Oh. Well, that makes sense. But also, another outdoor activity that requires coordination? Great.
He chuckles when he sees my expression. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you. Anyway, we’ve got a bit of an advantage… all those years of professional training and all.”
“You haven’t seen me on a pair of skates.”
“You haven’t seen me on a pair either,” he whispers against my lips before kissing me, slow and unhurried, pulling my bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling as his hands wander down my body.
Completely distracting me from any thoughts outside of this moment.
Watching Wells skate,his massive body gliding effortlessly, almost gracefully, along the ice, I quickly realize that he can, in fact, get hotter.
He’s the sexiest thing I’ve quite literally ever seen, and each time I think that he can’t possibly get any more attractive to me… he does.
Not good at all for someone who is supposed to be temporary because the thoughts I keep having? Well, they don’t feel temporary at all.
I just keep telling myself that I’ll worry about it later.
If I bring up how I’m feeling, that I’m starting to care about him much more than a fake girlfriend should, I’m worried he’s not going to feel the same.
It could totally just be one-sided, and he could be enjoying the sex as much as I am. But it mightjustbe sex to him.
Nothing more.
Then things will be weird, and I’m going to die if I have to see this man for the rest of my life next door after he rejected me.
He skates toward me, his chest heaving slightly as he skids to a stop, kicking a small spray of ice onto my feet with a grin.
“You look like you’re thinking awfully hard over here. Promise it’s not that difficult to hit the puck into the net.” He winks, causing my stomach to flutter with butterflies. “It’s just for fun.”
“I know. I was just… lost in thought.”
Gliding closer, he transfers the stick to his other hand so he can slide his free one along my waist. And with a look so sincere, he asks, “Wanna talk about it?”
The fact that he cares enough to ask makes my heart squeeze, but I shake my head, plastering on a smile. “Nope. How about you teach me how to shoot?”
“Oh, say less, Sugar. That’s what I’m here for.”
That’s exactly how I end up positioned in front of a hockey net that has a frosted pine garland intertwined with a string of colorful lights wrapped around the frame and a line of pucks on the ice in front of me with a stick in my hand.
Honestly, they seem much, much smaller on the TV. The thing barely fits in my hand. Clearly, it’s made for massive guys like Wells, who tosses it around like it’s nothing.
“Okay, now watch,” he instructs. “Line the blade of your stick up with the puck, and swing.”
With a quick swish of his wrist, he snaps the puck into the net so fast I almost miss it.
He makes it look entirely too easy, but I have no doubt that it is anything but easy.
Biting the inside of my cheek to hide my grin, I skate closer and slip one arm around his neck as I rise on the tips of my toes. “I bet you were so freaking hot skating in those arenas. It would’ve made me so wet.”
“Yeah?” He chuckles.
