God, I wanted him so bad.
Abruptly, Avery broke the kiss and twisted around. “Fuck it.” He snatched his phone up off the counter. “We’re bailing on practice.”
Anticipation crackled up the length of my spine. “Are we?”
“Uh-huh.” He typed out a message, sent it, and tossed his phone on the island behind him. Then his arms were around my neck again, and that kiss said he fucking meant it. Forget putting on our hockey gear—we needed to take off all these clothes.
My phone vibrated in my back pocket. His vibrated on the counter.
Group chat, probably.
Avery tugged my phone from my pocket and let it clatter onto the granite beside his. “Bedroom?”
“Bedroom.”
CHAPTER 35
AVERY
I was absolutely exhausted. If I’d tried to skate, I probably would’ve faceplanted and just gone to sleep right there on the ice.
Oh, but I found myself a second wind in Peyton’s arms. As I dragged him down on top of me in bed after we’d left a trail of clothing from the kitchen, I was wide awake and rock-fucking-hard. Oh my God, I loved the way this man’s body felt against mine. On top of mine. Wrapped around mine. I loved running my hands all over his hot skin and powerful, sculpted muscles.
He was just… so damn hot. And fuck, the way he kissed me when he was this turned on wasmind-blowing. It was all consuming. I didn’t know what it was he did differently, only that when his mouth was on mine, nothing else in the world existed. Just him exploring my mouth and stealing my breath and making himself the focal point of my entire universe.
Then he broke the kiss, and his lips were on my neck, and my whole spine turned to electricity. I arched under him, dragging my fingernails across his shoulders.
“So much more fun than practicing,” he mumbled beneath my jaw.
Practicing? Practicing what?
Oh. Right. Hockey. The practice we’d blown off.
“Yeah, it is,” I slurred. “Baby, that is so…” I trailed off into a moan as he bit my collarbone. “Fuuuck.”
He laughed and continued kissing up and down the sides of my throat, along my jaw, and even my earlobes. Every time he moved, my dick rubbed against him and his rubbed against mine, and… Goddammit, I was so turned on I couldn’t think. I didn’t even know what I wanted us to do—fuck, sixty-nine, jack each other off—and I didn’t care. As long as Peyton was driving me wild like this, I was in heaven.
He came up to kiss me, and after he’d finished making my head spin all over again, he growled, “I fucking love your mouth.”
“Yeah?” I panted. “You love other things I do with it, don’t you?”
Desire sparked in his eyes. “You know I do.”
I grinned. “Well, then. Sit up.” I reached back and knocked my knuckle against the headboard.
He gave me another kiss—another deep, hard incredible kiss—and then got up and did as I’d asked.
As soon as he was situated, I shifted around to go down on that amazing dick.
“Ooh, fuck,” he breathed as I took him between my lips. “God, yeah…”
I moaned around him. I got off on giving head as much as he did, and he was so, so responsive. I loved the way he combed his fingers through my hair while I sucked his dick. There was just something so needy about his touch. About the way his fingers twitched now and then. About howhe’d grab on just enough to tug at my scalp, but he wouldn’t pull too hard or force my head down.
I teased him all over, from the head of his cock down to his balls and taint, reveling in the blissed-out sounds he made and how his whole body trembled when I touched him just right. He strained my jaw a little, and I couldn’t deep-throat him quite as much as he could me, but I didn’t hear anything close to complaints from him, so I wasn’t worried. Like me, he loved when most of the attention was on the head anyway, and I could do that all day long.
And I probably would have, except he half-begged, half-ordered, “Get up here.”
As soon as I sat up, Peyton pulled me onto his lap so I was straddling his powerful thighs, and he claimed my mouth again as he started stroking me between our bodies. I had to fumble a little—that kiss was as distracting as his hand—but I got my fingers around him, too, and my first stroke was rewarded with a low, rumbling groan.
