Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 81248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“Yes, sir.”
He takes it easy on me at first, building up speed until he’s giving me what I need. It’s nothing like any time before it—I don’t feel pressured or like I have to be here, and it’s because of that I’m able to let go and take everything West is giving me.
He hitches my leg over his hip and buries his other hand in my hair, gripping the strands as he fucks me. My ass is off the mattress, meeting where he is on his knees, and the strength in his body is a huge turn-on. I’ve made sure I’m not an easy man to throw around, but West is taking what he wants unapologetically. He’s loud and wild, giving me that beautiful responsiveness I can’t get enough of, and the sound of his grunts and smell of his sweat make my head spin.
I scramble to reach for my cock and gasp in relief as my fingers wrap around it. I jerk myself to the rhythm of his thrusts. I can’t stop touching him with my other hand. His abs. His chest. My hand keeps moving up until it wraps around his throat.
“Fuck …” he moans.
I tighten my grip. Not enough to hurt him, but enough to make him look at me, to build that connection between us. He presses his forehead to mine, we lock eyes, and it’s so intense, my body can’t take it anymore. Pleasure tears through my balls, and I come. West shifts to watch me stroke myself through it, and a moment later, his grunts grow louder right before his whole body tenses.
He cries out, and the sound is so raspy and loud, my dick twitches again.
West collapses on top of me, breathing deep and fast, body slick with sweat as he buries his face in my neck. “How was it?”
I lift the hand sticky with my release. “Satisfactory.”
“Excuse me?” He jerks up to look at me.
“I’d give you a B plus.”
“Tell me you’re kidding.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to earn that A.”
His eyes soften as he drags his hand through my hair. “You’d do it again.”
“I can safely say I prefer to be the one in control, but yeah. With you, I’d do it again.”
“You know … you can totally be in control when you bottom. I wouldn’t say no to lying back and watching you ride me.” He shivers. “Mm, yeah, let’s try that.” West goes to roll over as though he wants to try it now, and I quickly stop him.
“While I appreciate the enthusiasm, my refractory period says no.”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to be hard for it.”
I pinch his ass, and West laughs, wriggling in against my side.
“Fine. Nap first. Then you’re going to do me. Then I might do you again. Then your turn …”
“What have I done?”
His eyes are closed, and he doesn’t answer.
“Can I at least clean myself up?”
West exaggerates snuggling in closer, so with a heavy sigh, I wipe my hand on the sheets and pull the blanket up and over us.
“You win.”
And I have a sneaking suspicion he always will.
33
Westly
I don’t know what’s worse. Flying with hyperactive nine-year-olds or flying with a hockey team. Add in a connecting flight in Philadelphia, and by the time we check in to the hotel, we’re all exhausted. Except for the twins. Those two just keep going.
Jasper and I are sharing with Ben and Em. Hazel, Zoe, and Rhys are sharing the connecting room.
I have team duties to get to—a practice skate and then a dinner, which I’m trying to get out of so I can eat with Jasper and the kids.
Jacobs came along with Beck, so there are more than enough chaperones to keep an eye on the team. Coach Hogan, Kole, the team trainer, Beck, and Jacobs can handle them. Not to mention, the guys are here to win, not to party. They’re too amped up over the championship to blow it by doing something stupid.
Most of the Frozen Four winners from two seasons ago have graduated and moved on, so this is the new guys’ chance to take it out. Simms is excited to have his second championship under his belt so he can catch the eye of agents and NHL teams who might want to recruit him once he becomes a free agent.
Each key player on this team has the skills to go all the way. It’s the working together thing that’s been hit-or-miss this season. Though I have to say going into this game, our first line, Asher, Kaplan, and Simms, is probably stronger than it was last season.
I have faith in the guys, but that doesn’t stop the panic from clawing at me every time the other team scores during the first game.
There are no second chances here. If we don’t win this semifinal, that’s it. We’re going home. We won’t see the final tomorrow.