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“And leave my jizz there as a memento? First a spanking and now this? Kinky.”
“I didn’t spank you to be kinky. You were talking about always being ready to fuck, but you don’t need to carry hookup supplies around when we’re in my house.”
Tripp shifts to lay on his side so he can face me, eyebrow arched impishly. “Hate sex doesn’t go so well if you have to say, ‘please hold while I try to remember where I put the lube.’”
“Was that hate sex?” I set my hand on his hip, focusing on the way my fingers glide over his skin instead of the look I might see in his eyes.
“What did it feel like?”
“Salvation.”
He snort-laughs. “I know I’m a good fuck, but you’re giving me too much credit.”
“I'm serious.” I swallow thickly, risking a quick glance at his face before I study my hand again. “I was about to spiral, and you stopped it. That doesn’t feel like hate.”
“It’s not. But hate fucking has a better ring to it than get it out of your system fucking,” he says airily.
“Why would you let me do that to you?”
“You needed it.” I feel him shrug. “And in case you didn’t notice, I happen to really like it.”
“I was pretty rough. I’m not even sure I was aware of what I was doing half the time. I could’ve hurt you.” My fingers flex and release on his hip as if to punctuate my words.
“You let go of your control, just like I asked you to. Do you feel better?”
“Yes and no.” I swallow again. “I’m not as angry, but I’m a little confused.”
“About what?”
“I’ve never been that way off the ice.”
“What way?”
“Aggressive. Unhinged.”
“I believe you're saying hot as fuck wrong.” Tripp trails a finger between my pecs, making me shiver.
“What?” I half-scoff, half-chuckle.
“I mean, you’re always hot, but wanting me so bad you literally can’t control yourself…” His finger ghosts over my nipple. “Damn.”
“Your ego knows no bounds.” I grab his hand, holding it next to my chest.
“What can I say, I’m blessed.” He shifts again so he’s laying on his back, his hand falling out of my grip, while I’m still on my side, facing him.
“I kissed you.” I press, resting my hand on his lean stomach.
“True.”
“And you kissed me back.”
“Also, true.”
“Why?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Felt right at the time I guess.”
I want to ask if that means we’re more than fuck buddies, but I have a feeling this conversation is already testing his limits, and as long as he’s not saying we shouldn’t do that again I won’t push it.
