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“No, but I need you to know that you can change yours. At any time.”
She nods, slowly. “Thank you. I think I need you to be a bit more of a jerk, though.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
She wiggles in my arms, and I let her go. “You’re pretty sweet.”
“My mom would kill me if I wasn’t nice. Besides, most people like sweet things.”
“Mm-hmm. Well, I have a terrible sweet tooth.” She takes her coat off and I nearly lose my breath at the soft fitted shirt that molds itself to her incredible tits and wide hips.
“You don’t say,” I murmur as she bends over right in front of me to unzip those sexy-as-fuck boots. Her ass is a work of art. It’s round and soft-looking and I just know it jiggles when she walks, and I want to reach out and spank it.
She looks up over her shoulder at me. “Some of my friends say I have an addiction.”
I don’t have a clue what we were talking about. All the blood in my body has gone to my cock which is about to burst out of my jeans. Sweets. Her ass is pretty sweet. Like a doughnut I just want to take a bite out of.
She slips her boots off and stands, stretching a little, up on her toes and down. Her tits bounce with the movement and a strangled sound escapes me as she presses them against my chest, flicking her fingers at my jacket. “Aren’t you hot, Owen?”
I’ve never taken my clothes off faster in my life. I’m fumbling like the fabric is on fire and Serena is watching me with an amused look on her face, but I don’t care. I don’t care about anything other than getting my hands on this woman.
I drop my shirt, gratified at the way she licks her lips as she looks me over. I can’t help but flex, tightening my abs as her gaze heats. I’m not a gym rat, my body is designed to make me as effective as I can be on the ice and if the end result is that this sexy woman likes what she sees, that’s a big bonus in my book. I reach out, hooking my fingers under the hem of her sweater and tug her closer to me.
“I’m about to get a whole lot hotter,” I say, drawing her sweater up, skimming my knuckles over her warm, satiny flesh until I reach the lace of her bra. I pause, looking down at her and she lifts her arms, graceful as a dancer. I nearly groan when I see her bra, the navy-blue lace plunging deeply between her large tits. “Hmm, how’d you know this is my favorite color?” It’s the color of the first jersey I ever wore.
She laughs softly. “I picked it out just for you.”
I pull her sweater off and then before she can blink, I slide my hands down, tugging her leggings over her hips. I lower myself to my knees, grateful to feel only a small pinch. Maybe the rehab is working after all.
She gasps as I press a kiss to her belly. “You’re fast.”
If only she knew. My nickname is the Gingerbread Man, and not just because my last name is Lebkuchen. Last skills competition, I ranked in the top three for speed in the entire league. I’m a big, physical, right-winger, but almost no one can catch me on the ice when I have the puck. At least that’s how it was before a dirty hit tripped me and took me off the ice.
I shake it off, not wanting my mind to go anywhere, except here with Serena. Beautiful name, beautiful woman. The curve of her belly is soft, and she smells sweet and warm, like vanilla and cinnamon. My family really does own a bakery, it’s part of the bed and breakfast and the sweet smell of buttery treats and spices never fails to remind me of home. Actually, it was love of treats that led me to hockey. I was a husky kid with a penchant for sugar, butter and chocolate. After an annual checkup where the doctor recommended I spend a little less time playing video games and eating cookies and more time being outside and active, my parents signed me up for hockey. Turns out I was good at it. I don’t indulge in my love of sweet treats too much anymore, but those familiar scents never fail to make my mouth water.
“I’m desperate for a taste of you, but I promise not to rush. I’m going savor this gorgeous body all night long.”
She shivers and I hook my fingers over the sides of her blue panties and twist them in my fingers, as I pull the material tight over her plump lips. Delectable. Carefully, I shift to my good knee and rise to my feet, tilting her chin up for a kiss. The moment her pretty brown eyes meet mine something tightens in my chest, and it isn’t lust. She feels familiar to me, even though we just met. Her lips part and our mouths meet and she tastes like sugar and lemons, like sunshine and beaches and I forget I’m in a hotel room in Detroit while a winter storm swirls outside. She’s not tentative, exploring my mouth while my hands roam her delectable body. She surges against me, inching me backwards towards the bed and I carefully sit, pulling her soft weight over my lap.
Serena gasps at the contact. “Your jeans are still on.”
Her legs are spread over my hips, and I can feel the heat of her against me. My cock surges and I wince at this terrible idea I had. I want to feel her wetness on me, around me, as I sink balls deep into her, but I don’t want a quick hook-up. I want to see that red hair swinging over me, her glorious tits bouncing, and I need to make her come long and hard before I lose myself in her body.
I place my hands on her hips, rocking her slightly, watching her eyes go hazy with desire. “Too rough?”
She licks her lips and shakes her head. I lean in and slide my tongue over one plump breast. “Take this off,” I demand, licking along the scalloped lace of her bra. Her weight shifts and I groan as she reaches behind her to unhook it, letting the straps fall down her arms.
Her tits are glorious. Heavy and round and topped with the most perfect dark pink nipples. My mouth is watering. I capture one sweet tip between my lips, feathering my tongue over the hard peak while she gasps, pushing herself closer to me. I wrap one arm around her back and glide my free hand up to cup her breast, sucking it deeper, learning what makes her shiver, whether she likes soft licks, or hard pulls of my mouth. The edge of my teeth makes her groan and grind down harder on my lap, so I do that over and over, switching between her heavenly mounds until her hips are rocking against mine and she’s melting over me.
Serena shudders as she circles her hips over the denim. “I feel like a horny teenager,” she breathes.
I curl my fingers into the soft skin of her ass, just under the edge of her panties. “It’s the anticipation.” I surge up, enjoying the pleasure-pain of her sexy, slow lap dance.
“Are we dry humping?” Her breath catches and I watch her beautiful face as she discovers a movement she likes and repeats it, a gorgeous flush spreading across her chest. I slide my fingers further into her panties as she lifts her hips and find heaven. Jesus. She’s sopping. My cock surges as I spread her wetness up and around her clit.
“There’s nothing dry about this, baby,” I mutter. I suck her nipple into my mouth and nearly roar when she increases the pace of her hips.
“I need you inside me, Owen,” she pants.
