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“Fuck, Lennon.” He gripped my hips, slamming me harder onto his cock. I clutched at him, sinking my nails into his shoulders. “I love when you fuck me this way,” he groaned.
Neither of us could last long like this. His sure and solid thrusts, with my hot and wet core clenching around him, were too intense for either of us to hold off. I clawed and screamed, bouncing harder as he filled me with his release. It seeped along my legs, and I rested my head against his shoulder, feeling the sweet sweat of sex drip between us.
“Welcome home, baby,” he growled.
He rolled onto his back, bringing me down to the bed with him. And we slept.
23
Wes
I packed my suitcase with the team logo embroidered on the side. This was it. The big dance. The prom. The Holy Fucking Grail. After last week’s win against the Kings, we were going to the Super Bowl.
There was an entire week of press preparation before the game. A few days of practice scheduled in and one media event after another with the team to show what a great group of guys the Wranglers were.
I looked at Lennon, who was stretched across the bed. Her bare ass was round and gorgeous. She kicked her heels toward her bottom, resting her chin on her folded arms.
“You sure you don’t want to come out early?” I asked. I hated leaving her here.
“I have work, remember? Surgeries. Patients who need me. A job.” Her eyebrows rose.
“But I need you.” I slapped her on the ass as I walked past the bed.
“I’m flying to San Diego as soon as my shift ends Friday night. You can have me then.” She grinned.
I pounced on top of her, tickling her ribs. “And what if that’s not soon enough?”
“Hey, hey. Stop.” She giggled, rolling onto her back.
I inhaled, seeing her gorgeous tits pointing in my direction. “You think I can go six days without these?” I kissed the tight nub on each breast.
“You told me yourself you can’t hang out during the day or night. You’re booked solid. And so am I. What do you want me to tell my patients? Sorry, Mr. Smith, I can’t do your shoulder surgery because I’m going to the Super Bowl. Oh, sorry, Tommy, but you’re going to have a deformed foot because my boyfriend needs me at the Super Bowl.”
I groaned. “I hear you. But I don’t really give a shit about those people.” I pinned her wrists over her head. “I want you with me.”
She gasped. “You have a car that’s going to be here in about fifteen minutes to pick you up. Don’t start what you can’t finish.”
I eyed her wickedly. “The Wranglers aren’t leaving San Antonio without me. And I’m not leaving without one more taste of you.”
My dick hardened at the sexy little sound that escaped her lips. Fuck, she was hot. I didn’t know being with the same woman over and over again could be this good. I didn’t know she could keep surprising me. I didn’t know that I could be more turned on now than I was the first time I fucked her.
“So, are you going to do what I tell you to do?” I bit her bottom lip.
She nodded.
I kissed her stomach and settled between her legs. This was my favorite slice of heaven. I licked up one side of her folds and down the other, bowing her off the bed.
She tried to press her knees together against my head, but I gripped under her ass and pulled her quickly to my tongue, plunging it to the deepest part of her core. She rocked into me, her hips wild with passion. Her hands were in my hair, then tugging on her breasts. As I pumped in and out of her with my tongue, I felt her rhythm turn desperate.
“Oh, Wes. Oh God.” She writhed and cried as I sucked hard on her clit. I lifted her ass higher in the air, twisting my tongue against her entrance. She was vibrating and pulsing. I knew I had taken her to the edge; just one nip at her clit and she would spill over the side. I tugged against it with my teeth and her orgasm exploded through her body.
“Wes, I-I—” She twisted and turned, grinding harder against my mouth. And then I heard the words. “Oh, God. I love you.”
24
Lennon
My body was fluttering with an incredible orgasm, but I looked down, horrified at what I had just said. I wasn’t supposed to tell him I loved him before he walked out the door for the Super Bowl. Shit. Double double shit.
