Page 77 of Hockey Player Seeking Fan

“But this is not how I want it.”

“I don’t care. You want me, right?” I say, sliding my panties down.

He nods slowly, almost reverently.

I watch as he unzips his pants, and his cock springs free. I grin as he takes another step toward me. His fingers reach between my legs, and he rubs my clit gently, softly, and I moan as I lean forward and close my eyes.

He growls as he slips a finger inside me, lubricating me. I’m already wet.

“We probably shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispers.

“I want this,” I say. “Take me.”

And he does.

I feel him slide into me—slowly at first—and then, with a breath, harder, faster, until we’re both screaming and shouting. And this time, it doesn’t hurt. At all. Instead, it feels like the very best thing that’s ever happened to me. I feel wanted and sexy, and I don’t ever want this to go away.

Then he stills and shudders. He pulls out of me, and I watch as he grabs a towel from the side of the desk. He comes in his hand, fast.

I stare at him and chuckle slightly—because I haven’t come.

But then he lifts me up, spreads my legs, and I feel his tongue between me—licking, sucking, until I’m coming hard and fast on his face. And he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop until I come again.

This time, I’m screaming, squirming, and I’m sure everyone in the bar can hear me—and I don’t care.

Finally, he pulls me up and kisses me like he’s tasting himself in my mouth. He runs his fingers through my hair and just stares at me.

“That was… okay?”

I let out a small laugh and shake my head.

“Are you still mad at me?”

“I was never mad at you. I guess I’m just coming to terms with the fact that I’m so into you.”

I grab him again and kiss him hard, and I place my hand against his chest because I want to feel his heart beating, even if it’s not for me. I want to feel his heart beating because I want to pretend this moment is special—for him, as well.

I want to feel his heart beating because mine is beating rapidly, and I want to tell him how much I love him. I want to tell him how much I want to be with him. I want to tell him he’s the most handsome man in the world, and I want to spend the rest of my life with him.

But I can’t. Because this is a fairy tale. And I realize that fairy tales very rarely come true.

But I also realize that in this moment… I don’t care.

I’m okay with the cold and the hard because it’s real. And it makes me feel things I’ve never once felt while dreaming.

Dreaming was great for a certain part of life.

But actually living?

Living is so much better.

And I don’t care what comes from this moment.

I just know that he’s the man I want to be with, even if he’s the man I ruin myself with.

Even if it all explodes.

Because I’m sure that one day, it will.