I do. Slowly at first, because this is a weird new experience that has my head spinning. But when I gather my wits, I start fucking into him for real. I know when I do what he wants because he stops telling me to fuck him.
Bending him in half, I listen to his loud whines. I watch as this man, who’s always so filled with anger, lets down all the barriers and walls he’s erected. I watch as pleasure paints his face and know that I’m making him feel that way.
“You don’t hate me now,” I grunt.
He huffs. “Yes, I do. I hate everything about you. Your pretty face and your stupid smile. I hate that you’re a nice guy and that you’re friends with those other jerks who steal guys. I hate how everyone likes you. Fuck.” His muscles stiffen. “I’m going to come,” he whines.
I let go of one of his legs and wrap my hand around his cock. He immediately goes wild with uncontrolled body movements as he’s fighting against his orgasm. He sprays himself and I stare, transfixed, as the evidence of the pleasure I’m giving him covers his chest and stomach.
“You better fucking come,” he pants.
Blinking away the fuzzy moment, I pin him down again and continue to fuck him until I do what he demands. I fill the condom in his tight hole, almost disappointed that it’s over. Themoment carries on as long as I can before I reluctantly pull my spent dick out of him.
Then we’re staring at each other.
The thing is, he can’t run this time. And he can’t kick me out if he wants a ride to work. So I wait, staring at him, refusing to think aboutanythingthat’s trying to scream in my head right now. I wait for him to act.
“Still hate you,” he mutters and shoves me off. “Come on. We need showers.”
This is going to be an interesting morning. And a mortifying afternoon when the reality of what I just fucking did truly settles over me.
CHAPTER 15
LEMON
Iglare at my couch as I pull Hansley’s hoodie over my head. He’s watching me, amused as I do so and I narrow my eyes, daring him to try to take it back. It’s his fault I came all over my fucking shirt. Why didn’t he take it off me like any other considerate fucker would?!
“You going to kick me out now?” Hansley asks.
Glancing at my couch, I can still see what we’d been doing there not ten minutes earlier. Him sitting there while I reverse rode him. His hand working my dick like he was born to. His mouth sucking on my shoulder as I went wild on his cock, and I sprayed all over my goddamn shirt!
Fuck, I’m not even sure how we got in that position. Why was he even here?!
Hansley chuckles. I’m not sure if I like this new attitude. He used to look at me warily. Cautiously. His tone was always defensive.
Now he’s smirking and I hate what it does to me. That’s what happened at my house last week. The way he just watched me with interest as I rambled. I ramble when I’m nervous and I was super nervous about my car and then add to that I woke upstupidly late. And he’s just watching me. I swear, that’s the look people get when someone finds them cute.
His smile, though. It’s not even the big smile that I’ve seen him give Alka and Declan. It’s small. Sexy. I’ve only ever seen him direct it at me.
It’s a smile that’s all mine.
“Yes,” I harrumph. Thankfully, my cell phone rings, and I’m given an out so I don’t have to face him.
I don’t want him to see all the walls that he just naturally keeps barreling through unintentionally. He doesn’t even know he’s doing it. If I don’t hate him, I’m going to fall for him. Which is ridiculous because I don’t know shit about this man.
I know he’s a great hockey player with a lot of awards. I know that the staff and students love him. And I know he’s kind. When I’ve done nothing but give him shit, he was still the first—and probably the only one who would, if I’m honest—to offer me help when my car died. It was just a battery, thankfully, and I had it replaced without having to leave campus.
Not that I’ll let him know this, but I’ve been watching him more and more. I’ve seen the way he is with the students and… it makes my heart melt a little.
“I have to take this,” I say, picking up my phone.
He chuckles as he watches me, zipping up his pants. My cheeks heat and I quickly answer the phone. Under any other circumstances, I wouldn’t, but I need him to leave. I don’t want him to see how much he affects me.
As soon as he’s out the door, I sigh and say, “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, baby,” she says. The fact moms still call their kids these things when their kids are forty-three is wild to me. “How’s school? How’s the team this year?”
Despite myself, I smile. “We’re doing really great. Four wins and only one loss,” I say, unable to keep the excitement from myvoice. “They’re amazing this year. My kids really have their shit together. You should see them.”
