Reed Read online Sawyer Bennett (Cold Fury Hockey #10)

Categories Genre: Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Cold Fury Hockey Series by Sawyer Bennett
Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Reed (Cold Fury Hockey #10)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Sawyer Bennett

Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B071NR4NN2
Book Information:

Hockey season may be over, but in New York Times bestselling author Sawyer Bennett’s new novel, a Carolina Cold Fury heartbreaker is heating things up off the ice and eager to score with the girl next door.

No one skates like Reed Olson. In the off-season, no one plays like him either. After back-to-back championships, Reed craves a different kind of action. Good thing there’s no shortage of women ready for a summer fling with a sports star. Reed has a specific type—blond, busty, not too bright—and a little black book full of options. But when his bed starts rocking, it’s his unexpectedly sexy neighbor who comes knocking. And the brainy beauty is impossible to ignore.

Josie Ives desperately needs something her celebrity neighbor obviously doesn’t: sleep. His headboard banging against the wall is keeping her up at night—not to mention inspiring some very naughty dreams. Reed is everything she imagined: a little too good-looking, with a body that puts Greek gods to shame. But he’s also funny and charming—a tempting combination. Josie’s the opposite of his type, yet the chemistry between them is undeniable. Their friendship certainly has its benefits, and it’s heating up to be so much more.
Books in Series:

Cold Fury Hockey Series by Sawyer Bennett

Books by Author:

Sawyer Bennett Books



Chapter 1

Reed

“We are so good together, baby,” she pants from underneath me. “The paparazzi got some amazing shots of us tonight, and your silver tie complemented my dress wonderfully.”

A bead of sweat trickles down my temple as I start to drive deeper.

Harder.

Faster.

Anything to get her to stop talking. How in the fuck she can have coherent thoughts when her ankles are resting on my shoulders is beyond me. I sure as hell can’t think straight. Nothing past getting her off so I can tumble after.

“I’m going to Fiji next week,” she tells me in staccato bursts, each word popping out of her mouth to match my thrusts. “You should come with—”

Fuck this.

I pull out, flip her over, and draw her up to her hands and knees. I drive back in and am rewarded with a long moan in return that seems to go on and on and on.

Finally. Her yammering has given way to the sounds of pleasure, and I can get back in the game.

One hand on her hip, the other on her shoulder to hold her steady, I give it to her hard. She told me that’s what she likes, but fuck if you’d know that by the way she was trying to carry on a conversation.

This position seems to work, and all talk of a trip to Fiji seems to be forgotten. As my breath starts coming out faster and my balls tighten, her moans turn into screams.

Sharp, piercing, eye-watering screams. The type that make me think my ears are bleeding, and I suddenly long for her to start talking again.

I consider for a brief moment slapping my hand over her mouth, but thankfully she lets out one last bloodcurdling shriek as she starts to come. Probably more from relief her screams will stop than from anything else, I go ahead and let loose, one last thrust, and I have a lukewarm orgasm at best.

Flopping to the mattress beneath me, I’m boggled when she turns over and says, “Like I was saying, you should come to Fiji with me. I’m doing a swimsuit shoot and…”

She keeps talking but I stop listening. Jesus, when did casual sex get to be so difficult? It makes me wonder if celibacy and the palm of my hand isn’t the better option. I roll off the mattress and pull the condom off. I notice her sit up on the bed, her mouth still moving as words pour out. I stare at her, and I just don’t hear a word.

With a sigh, I head into my bathroom, where I ditch the condom in the toilet and flush. Bracing with my hands on the vanity, I lean forward and take a good, hard look at myself in the mirror.

I don’t look like a guy who just had some amazing sex with a supermodel.

Well, yes, she’s a supermodel, but the sex was mediocre at best.

Fuck…maybe I’m getting tired of sex. I sure hope to God I’m not, because I really don’t want to be celibate.

“Reed,” she calls out from my bedroom. “I’m going to grab some water out of the kitchen. Want some?”

“Yeah,” I call back, although I really don’t. I want to go to sleep in my bed.

By myself.

I want to sleep in and be lazy tomorrow. It is, after all, the start of my summerlong vacation. It’s what a hockey player does when he just won the Stanley Cup. Not a fucking worry or responsibility other than trying to stay in shape.

My doorbell ringing startles me from staring at myself in the mirror.

What in the hell? It’s past 1 A.M.

Walking back through my bedroom, I snag my jeans from the floor and slip them on. My master bedroom is on the second floor, so I make it down the stairs and to the foyer just as the bell is ringing again.

Without looking through the peephole, I swing the door open and stare dumbfounded at a petite brunette woman on my porch. I note she’s wearing pajamas. Pale blue cotton pants and a matching T-shirt that while somewhat baggy can’t hide the fact she’s got a nice pair of tits. I also note that her long hair is a tangled mess and she looks cranky.

“Can I help you?” I ask her as I stand on the threshold, holding the door halfway open.

At that same moment, warm hands slide around my stomach from behind and I feel a naked body pressed up to my backside. A bottle of water appears in front of me from an elegantly manicured hand and she whispers in my ear, “Here you go, baby.”

I take the bottle but don’t spare her a glance, instead watching as the brunette on my porch narrows her eyes at me.

“Yes, you can help me,” she says in a husky, raspy voice, and I wonder if that’s her normal voice or her “I just woke up” voice. She points a finger at the woman clinging to my back. “You can put a muzzle on Screaming Barbie there. Her shrieks are enough to wake up the dead, so you can bet your sweet ass they woke me up.”

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