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“That cute girl shit doesn’t work with me. You’ll have to wait until Alexsei gets home. I don’t rub feet.”
That does not surprise me, but I enjoy teasing him. “You’ve never rubbed Alexsei’s feet?” I lift my glass to my lips.
“God, no.” He turns and gives me a look of horror. “Have you really looked at his feet? They’re all mangled from hockey. His toenails look like snail shells. Disgusting.”
I choke on my wine, coughing and wiping my chin as it dribbles down my bottom lip and below. “Oh, my God, warn me before you say stuff like that.”
The corner of his mouth turns up. “What’s the fun in that?”
I’m going to give him the smart ass response he deserves when I see number seventeen, my brother, blow past a defender and take the puck down the ice. “Oh, oh, Crew is going to score, I can feel it!”
Cam leans forward. “He’s got it.” He grips my feet, and I don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it.
A tingle shoots up my legs. Cam’s touch is special because he doesn’t give it readily. But I’m distracted from that because Crew takes the shot. The goalie misses and it hits the back of the net. We cheer as the light flashes to indicate a goal. Crew lifts his stick in triumph and skates around the back of the net.
“Only two minutes left. I think they have this.”
Cam drains his wine glass and refills it again. “Alexsei’s going to be happy.”
I finish my wine and smile. Cam’s hands are still on my feet. Between that and the chardonnay, I’m getting warm in all the right places.
This game can’t end fast enough.
Two minutes seems to take twenty, but finally the game is over and the Racketeers have secured the victory. We watch Alexsei raise his gloved fist and shake it, a big grin on his face. He’s also chewing on his mouth guard, which I find oddly adorable, which I instantly realize is absurd.
It just confirms that I love him.
And his mangled feet. They can be in my bed every night of the week, as far as I’m concerned.
“Well, that’s good news for us. No grumpy boyfriend to deal with tomorrow when he gets home,” Cam says.
“Yeah, no grumpy boyfriend,” I say, with raised eyebrows.
“Brat,” Cam says, before shifting my feet and easing my legs apart.
He goes on his knees and gives me a hard kiss before shifting down between my thighs. He pushes my sweatshirt up and kisses my navel, teasing down the waistband of my sweats. I lay back on the couch, a pillow behind my head, and relax under his touch.
“That feels good,” I tell him, trying to sound reassuring.
Cam pauses and drills me with a look.
“What?”
But he shakes his head and tugs my sweats down, panties included. Cool air drifts over my thighs and my pussy. He stares at me so long I start to squirm a little. Eventually, he runs his thumbs down over me and I give a little gasp of encouragement.
“Yes, that’s good. Touch me.”
Cam flicks his tongue over my clit, and it’s definitely experimental. Then he moves his tongue down over my slit and deep inside me. Then he shifts again, right when it was getting good. I can’t tell if he’s trying to tease me, or if he’s just getting the lay of the land.
“Just pick a spot and hang out there,” I tell him.
“So I’m at the beach?” he asks, gruffly.
I fight the urge to laugh. “Just move your tongue slowly, up and down. And repeat.”
He does, but he’s off center.
“A little to the left, no, that’s too far, and just a smidge up.” He goes down. I sigh in frustration as he just misses the perfect position. “Up, Cameron. Your other up. The opposite of down.”
