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“I changed my mind,” I say as I suck her earlobe once more. “I want to eat you for dinner.”
“You’re so bad, Jamie.” A smile stretches across her perfect, plump lips I want wrapped around my cock. “But you’re waiting until after we eat.”
“Fine,” I whisper low enough for her to hear. “Then, I’ll eat your pussy for dessert.”
She chuckles, rubbing her ass into my painfully hard erection. I can’t even think straight when she does this, let alone move. And when Preston pops his head into the kitchen, he gives me a look, one eyebrow raised.
“When are we eating?” he asks.
“Five minutes,” Shannon says. “Go set the table.”
Preston laughs and then looks at me. I point at the cabinet where we keep the dishes, and he actually does as Shannon asked. I’m shocked. I expected him to tell me to do it. As the team captain, he’s so used to ordering all of us around that sometimes I have to remind him that his job does not extend off the ice.
Once the food is ready, I help Shannon arrange bowls, plates, and serving dishes on the dining table at the far end of the kitchen. We take a few seconds to ourselves without my friends interrupting. Shannon hops up on the counter, and I slip between her spread thighs. Running my hands up her legs, I wish we were alone now more than ever. It’s been a while since the last time I had sex. Unlike my friends, I don’t hook up with every girl on campus.
I lift a bowl of penne and pinch the pasta between my fingers, feeding it to Shannon. She bites into it, licking her lips with an intense look in her eyes.
But our foreplay ends when Drake walks into the kitchen. “Hey, dick,” he says. “Would you stop feeding your girl with your fingers? The rest of us have to eat from that bowl.”
It sounds weird hearing my friends call Shannon my girl, but I honestly don’t mind. In fact, I like it. A little more than I would’ve thought. The more time I spend with Shannon, the more she grows on me, and that freaks me out. Because the last woman I let into my life attempted to destroy it.
I set down the bowl of pasta and step out from between Shannon’s legs to help her down from the counter. She giggles when I whisper all the dirty things I want to do to her into her ear.
“We were taste testing,” I say to Drake.
“Great,” he growls. “Now that your slobber is all over our food, I can’t wait to eat it.”
After Drake yells into the living room, my friends take their usual places at the kitchen table with Preston between Drake, Tucker, and Trent.
Preston leans back, his chair propped against the wall. “Give him a break,” he says to Drake, pointing at Shannon. “Nerds don’t get as many chances to hook up with girls who look like that.”
Shannon chuckles under her breath at my side.
“Hey,” I say to Preston. “I can hear you, Spidey.”
He hates his nickname. Since he’s named after Spider-Man, how can I not give him shit? Preston’s like a brother to me, and we fuck with each other all the time. He can dish it out, but he can never take it. Sore loser.
Everyone laughs except for Preston, who’s wearing a bitter scowl.
“Don’t call me that,” he growls, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s your dad’s fault I got stuck with this name.”
“Your dad shouldn’t have bet mine that he’d beat him at video games, of all things.” I pull out a chair for Shannon and then take a seat at the table next to Tucker. “He should’ve known better.”
“What’re you guys talking about?” Shannon flicks her dark locks over her right shoulder and moves her chair closer to mine.
“Our parents are best friends—” I begin.
Shannon interrupts. “Wait, did you guys all grow up together?”
I nod. “Parker’s mom is my dad’s best friend. They’re kind of like brother and sister.”
“So, that makes you two like brothers.” She points at Preston and then me.
“Yeah,” I say. “Sort of. We’re all family, like one really weird dysfunctional family.”
Drake snorts. “Speak for yourself.”
Shannon glances around the table at each of us. “That’s pretty cool. You guys all knew each other before you came to Strick U. It must make it easier for you to play hockey together.”
“I don’t know about all that,” Drake interrupts.
“It’s definitely an advantage we have over other teams,” Preston says. “Coaches have a hard enough time getting all the egos to play together.”
“We fight all the time,” Tucker says.
“True,” Preston counters. “But we don’t stay mad at each other for long.”
Drake laughs. “I just beat the bitchassness out of you.”
“You wish.” Smirking, Preston motions his finger toward his chest. “Come at me, bro. Let’s see how tough you really are.”
