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Jasper kicked off his boxers and tore open the foil packet without a second’s hesitation. As he rolled the contents over his shaft, which was as impressively built as the rest of him, I took a moment to admire the view.
All those chiseled muscles on display, honed by years of pushing himself to the limit on the ice. Broader and bulkier than Niko’s lean form, but equally delectable.
A girl could appreciate a little variety.
He tipped me back on the pads with another kiss, both determined and lingering. I’d almost melted beneath him when he lined himself up.
I was so slick and ready that he plunged all the way in one go, the heady friction making my head spin. He pulled back and then thrust even deeper, propelling a moan from my lungs.
I closed my eyes, unable to process anything else other than the sensation of him taking me, filling me, stroking me from the inside out. He kissed my lips and my neck almost savagely while running his fingers over my hair with clashing tenderness. My heart swelled at the impression that I was being both claimed and cherished.
Every guy I’d been with back in Austin, every hasty hookup, had felt like something only about bodily urges. Scratching an itch, relieving tension, nothing all that personal beyond finding the guy hot enough and unobjectionable enough that I didn’t mind the momentary physical vulnerability.
With both Niko and Jasper, the experience was totally different. The act reached beyond our physical collision and tugged at my heart.
I didn’t think I could give this kind of intimacy up. Ihadto be the woman they saw me as; I had to keep all the darkness of my past as far away from them as possible.
With a surge of deeper desire, I lifted my legs to urge Jasper closer, and he followed me without breaking his rhythm. His cock hit the spot inside that made my whole torso pulse with pleasure, and I caught his mouth in another wild kiss.
My breath had broken into pants. I arched to meet him, welcoming him in every way I could, soaring on the pleasure rushing through my body.
He thrust harder, faster, our skin sliding together with the sheen of sweat that’d broken over it. He squeezed my ass, driving all the way to the hilt at just the right angle, and I blazed over the finish line with an explosion of sparks behind my eyes.
As I clenched around him, shuddering with my ecstatic release, Jasper’s hands wrapped around my leg. He hoisted it up almost as if this were a new pairs lift, pounding into me.
I dug my fingernails into his bare back, and he slammed into me with a groan that told me he’d reached his own climax.
We stayed melded together like that for a long moment, coming down from the high. I smiled a little deliriously, my happiness only heightened by Jasper’s returning grin and the playful kiss he pressed to the corner of my jaw.
“I don’t know about you, but I think that’s all the practice I can handle for today,” he said lightly as he pulled back to clean up. “You’ve worn me out, Punk.”
I laughed and tapped his side with my foot. “Maybe we should add this to our workout regimen.”
The gleam in Jasper’s eyes suggested he didn’t totally object to the idea. He stole one more kiss, and we scrambled back into our clothes.
As Jasper turned toward the door, though, a pensive shadow crossed his face. His stance was so much more relaxed than when we’d come in, but I couldn’t shake the sense that something was still bothering him.
I bumped my shoulder against his arm on the way out. “We got in some good work on the lift too. I bet we’ll nail it tomorrow.”
“We should definitely be closer,” Jasper said easily enough, but his expression didn’t totally lighten.
However much I’d gotten through to him, he was still keeping me at a distance. But I didn’t know what to do about that other than wait and see if he’d eventually let me all the way in.
And maybe he was right not to, considering how many secrets I was keeping fromhim.
TWENTY
Luciana
I’d become quitethe regular at the Blueberry Café.
Not only did they have fantastically authentic pierogies, the coffee was ten times better than what I could make with the cheap machine that’d come with the bungalow. The place had become my comfort spot and a regular stop before practice. Sometimes after too.
And on Sundays, I could hang out at my leisure. I’d dropped in today earlier than usual to dig into a stack of the café’s trademark blueberry pancakes, drenched in so much maple syrup that I probably should have invited Jasper along too.
Scratch that. He’d have tried to eat my pancakes.
It seemed that some of the locals had noticed my regular appearances there. As I polished off the last pancake, an elderly woman I’d seen in the place a few times before shuffled over to my table. She clutched her purse in her wrinkled hands like it weighed a hundred pounds.
