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“Depends. Is it working?” I turn and pop my hip just enough for him to get the full view.
He growls low in his chest. “If I ever answer ‘no’ to that, push me off a cliff.”
Laughing, I sashay over and snag him by the tie. There’s something so unbelievably sexy about threading your fingers through a silk tie when it’s attached to your man’s throat. Especially when said man looks like a runway model in this shade of Armani blue.
He glides his hand down my ribs, thumb teasing over my nipple as he stops at my hip while his other hand unfastens his pants. “You are some kind of magic, Sloan.”
“Say more.”
“We literally just had sex, and yet I can’t think of another thing except how much I want you.Again.”
When his fingers drift lower and tease through my wetness, I moan. His mouth finds mine in a soft, fluttery kiss.
I curl my fingers in his hair and hold him to me because I don’t know what to do with all this emotion. These feelings have evolved. They’re deeper, heavier, and all the more terrifying.
But his kiss obliterates all the fear and all the indecision. There’s only him. Only his touch. Only his body on mine. His fingers work in and out of me, thumb toying with my clit while I writhe and he watches my face from half an inch away.
When I lower my hand to stroke his cock, his head falls back and a low groan escapes. “What you do to me…” It’s a whispered, unfinished thought, but it’s more than enough for me.
This kiss goes on and on even when he moves over me and I guide his dick inside me. He’s holding his weight off me, so I curl my arms around to grab handfuls of his ass, kneading, as I wrap my legs around his and pull him deeper into my aching pussy.
“Harder, Beck. I want you to take me as hard as you can.”
Grinning, he slams into me with a thrust that takes my breath away. Everything after that is mostly a blur. He pumps his hips and I cling, whimper some more,, then the spiraling starts and I’m lost in the moment.
I am one thousand percent sure I’m never going to have enough of this guy. I should probably be ashamed of how much I want him, but I’m not. He’s my weakness, and if I’m going to be weak, there are so many worse vices to have than Beckett Daniels.
When we’re lying side by side and my breathing is almost back to normal, he turns his head to gaze at me. “Aren’t you glad I said we should have sex here and not at the rink? The whole place would’ve heard us.” He grins, proud. “Twice.”
I slide the pillow out from under me and smack him with it. “Should I be thanking you for doing it well or doing it here?”
“Hm.” He pretends to consider the question. “I think both.”
“Well, thank you, then.” I turn my face and kiss his chest. He smells fresh and clean like his soap and the splash of his cologne.
He tilts my chin up so he can drop a kiss on my mouth. “We do have to leave soon, though. For real.”
That’s the reality check I didn’t want. The thought of going into the arena and seeing Viv is sobering. It dissolves my aftersex bubble of bliss at the snap of a finger.
I sigh. “Alright. Off to war we go.”
Half an hour later, we’re in the arena. I watch as Beck disappears around the corner on his way to the locker room. Meanwhile, I’meyeing the closet. It won’t be as much fun hiding in there alone as it is making love in there with Beck.
But it might be worth it to keep from seeingher.
Then, fate being the cruel bitch that it is, she appears. She’s like Beetlejuice, appearing whenever she’s least wanted.
Vivian’s skirt is tight and her shirt sprawls open from collar to mid-cleavage so that the lace of her silver bra is peeking over the edges of her collar. It pisses me off that she’s the kind of woman who can show that much boob and bra and still look classy.
I’m praying that she doesn’t see me amidst the comings and goings of all the arena staff, but she beelines right for me. She comes to a stop way too close for comfort, arms crossed, lips pressed into a stern line. “Sloan.”
“Vivian.”
“I know you’re sleeping with him.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“With Beck.” She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head, likeshe’sthe one with a reason to be disgusted. “Don’t play stupid. It’s not a good look.”
