Page 54 of Scoring Zone
“Depends on if it worked.” I sit back on my heels. “Boyfriend sounds so juvenile for the way I feel about you, but it works for me. Does it work for you?” My voice gets high and reveals my trepidation. I won’t survive if he doesn’t agree.
“It really, really works for me.” Gray plants a kiss on my forehead, and his mouth turns up on one side. “Are you trying to torture me? If this weren’t an expensive shirt, I’d rip all the buttons off.” He rests his palms on my chest.
“Yes, until you whisper mushy things in my ear,” I tease. Miraculously, I get his shirt off in seconds and start in on his belt.
The gleam in his eyes is my only hint before he ruffles my hair and leapfrogs over me.
I’m too stunned to stop him but follow him back into the kitchen.
Gray picks up the package from the kitchen island and tosses it in the air.
“Is this what I think it is?” His smile lights up the dim kitchen.
“You tell me. It’s unmistakably still sealed.” I gesture to the intact box. I won’t stop him if he’s changing the subject by suggesting we play. We can talk later.
“Let’s crack this bad boy open.” Gray grabs a knife and slices the tape. He digs through the packing material and pulls out a black plastic bag. His eyes meet mine before he tears it open, and the flogger falls out.
Floggers are different than I imagined them to be. Some fit my mental picture of a whip as long as a riding crop, but we opted for something smaller. My hand has a mind of its own as it reaches for the supple leather strands, tracing up toward the silver-studded neck and butt.
Gray offers it to me, but I don’t trust myself yet. “It’s soft.”
My breath hitches when his fist pushes through the strap and closes around its neck. We did our research and watchedseveral videos. The strands are called falls, tresses, or tails that connect at the neck and are held by the shaft. Totally appropriate naming; someone knew what they were doing.
“You still want me to use it on you?” he asks.
His molten gaze melts me.
Instead of answering, I strip off my jacket and curse the tiny buttons and cufflinks on my shirt. “It’s like Trevor is cock-blocking us from home.”
Gray’s chuckle fills the kitchen and warms my insides. He unfastens my cuffs with one hand and peels my shirt off, leaving me in an undershirt and tented dress pants.
“Hands on the counter.” He lets the flogger dangle from his wrist as he removes my T-shirt and turns me to press on my back so I’m leaning forward.
Instinctively, I widen my legs, but I have to adjust my stance for him to get my pants off. A shiver racks my body, and a high-pitched giggle escapes me. I don’t giggle.
He kisses my neck and huffs a laugh against my skin. “We can try to be all badass and sexy, but we’ll always be just us.”
My head drops with his understanding, and I push my ass back. “I guess we’re not the romance book hero types, huh?”
“You are in my book.” He taps my leg so he can take my sock off. “If anyone saw you like this, they would give a nut or breast to be with you. You’re better than a fictional romance hero, you’re a hockey god.”
My skin flushes red and breaks out in goosebumps at the same time—an impossible feat.
“It’s really not fair how good-looking you are.” He kisses the knobs down my spine and kneels behind me. “But this”—he rids me of my underwear—“this is a masterpiece. Your ass would shame all those famous sculptures in Europe.” He plants a wet kiss on each cheek, and I push back farther.
“Someone is eager.” His fingers tickle the hair between my legs, and my cock leaks. I’m hyperaware of his presence, and with each shift, I’m more impatient for the first strike.
“Gray,” I whine, tipping my head backward until my spine arches.
“Shhh. I’ll give you what you need.” He nips my ear and drags the flogger over my arm, across my shoulders, down the other arm, and then over my chest. The falls drape against my cock with no pressure, but the mere thought of it creates a string of precum inches long.
It’s hard to decide, as if I have a choice, where will be the most pleasurable to receive hits. If, a month ago, someone had told me I’d want Gray to flog my cock, I’d have assumed they had a break from reality. But there’s no denying the ache in my balls and the anticipation building so high I might crack before he hits me.
“You’re tense.” His warm chest blankets my back. “It’s more likely to hurt if you’re tight.”
“I know.” Blowing out a breath, I concentrate on loosening my muscles.
“Lucky for you, I have a solution.” His tongue trails over my back, and my dick screams for attention. Gray’s knees plunk on the wood floor, and he gently pries my ass cheeks open. “Breathe,” he instructs, and I let out another slow breath.
