I grab his arm and yank him. He’s so drunk it’s easy. He’s not resisting so, although it takes all my strength, I can push him into the giant marble shower stall. He almost slips and, as his back hits the far wall and the lukewarm water pours down on top of him, he yelps.
“Take a cold shower.” I finish my sentence, raising my voice for emphasis.
“You bitch,” he hollers and then lunges for me.
I wasn’t expecting that at all and I have no time to react. He yanks me into the shower stall with him. The water splashes down on me and my whole body goes completely rigid. My eyes snap shut to block out the water, and a furious, shocked scream escapes my lips. I can feel his hands wrapped around my biceps. He’s holding me right up against him and he has no intention of letting go. I struggle but it’s useless.
My eyes fly open and I smack at his bare chest. But when I see the look in his eyes, I stop fighting. Gone is the anger and rage. His eyes are caramel again and his brow is slightly raised. His mouth is gaping slightly, his tongue on the edge of his bottom lip as his gaze slides over my body.
I glance down. I’m soaking wet. My little shorts are stuck to my skin and sagging slightly, exposing my lower abdomen. My white tank top is clinging to my chest and stomach and is completely see-through. I can’t help but notice the same effect has happened to his white boxer briefs. I can make out every angle of his hardening cock as easily as he can make out the curve of my breasts and the dark circle of my nipples.
His eyes finally land on my face. I open my mouth to speak but no words come. He tugs on my arms again; my body jolts forward and his lips crash down on mine.
My body reacts before my mind does. My mouth opens instantly, and as our tongues meet, my body softens in his arms and I push myself against him. He moves and one hand goes into my wet hair as the other one grabs my ass. I reach between us and cup his dick, giving it a firm squeeze. My breath leaves my lungs with awhoosh. Holy fuck, I realize I have wanted to touch it since I saw him naked that day I woke him up. The thought is completely overwhelming both in how much I mean it and in how surprised I am by it.
His hands move and he runs them over my wet tank top, cupping my breasts and rolling my nipples between his fingers through the soaked fabric, turning them hard in seconds. His lips move to my neck and he sucks—hard.
I yank his underwear down and push my crotch into his exposed erection. If it weren’t for the pajama shorts, I would be fucking him right now. Standing in this shower, tepid warm water coating us…no condom in sight. Thank God for pajamas.
He reaches for the front of my bottoms, clearly not feeling the same appreciation for clothing that I am, but I shove his hands away and drop to my knees. Without even the slightest thought or word, I wrap my hand around the base of his cock and take him between my lips.
Chapter 21
Devin
Her mouth is hot. Blazing hot. I shudder and moan, the sounds loud and guttural. I’ve lost complete control. Callie owns me right now and I don’t even care.
She slides almost all the way down my cock, her tongue pushing hard against the underside as she slides almost all the way off it before rolling her tongue around the tip like it’s a lollypop. She repeats the process, and the third time her free hand cups my balls firmly and she takes me so deep into her mouth that my tip taps the back of her throat. She fights a gag but keeps going, picking up speed.
My mind goes blank. My hands wrap around her long, wet hair and my head falls back against the marble wall. This is fucking heaven.
“Callie…I’m close,” I warn and try to pull her off. She lets go of my balls and slaps at my hand that’s pulling on her hair, trying to stop her, and continues to lick and suck on me.
Her hand at the base of my cock starts to move with her lips, trailing behind them and creating a perfect blend of friction and pressure. She is literally milking my orgasm to the surface. A moan escapes at the same time I lose the ability to breathe as my balls tighten and I let go right into her perfect mouth.
I say her name over and over in jagged breaths and she pumps me dry, swallowing everything. My knees start to give out and I slide to the floor in front of her. My eyes flutter open and the water splashes off my chest and her shoulders, sprinkling both our faces.
She leans in and cups the sides of my face and kisses me hard and firm on the lips. I grab the wet material of her tank top with my hands and start to lift it, but she pulls away and stands up.
“Callie…” I croak out her name and reach for her, but she steps out of the shower, dripping a giant puddle onto my bathroom floor.
“That’s all you get from me,” she says firmly.
“You’ve given me more before,” my drunken, orgasm-rocked brain argues aloud.
“I didn’t give it to this Devin,” she retorts. “This Devin doesn’t deserve me. Not all of me. Now get your shit together.”
She shuts the glass door of the shower and disappears from sight.
Chapter 22
Devin
I’m sitting in the lobby with two Starbucks in my hand when they start filing off the elevators. A few of them notice me and obviously recognize me. They nod or wave. It would be weird to have a member of another NHL team sitting in the lobby of your team’s hotel except when it’s me and the team is Jordan’s or Luc’s. Seb Deveau, his Winterhawks hat low on his head, makes eye contact as he saunters off the elevator. His gaze is wary but unwavering. I fight down the anger that starts to bubble at the sight of him. My mind drifts to Callie on her knees, water pouring down on her as her lips slide over my cock. Seb didn’t have her last night, so I shouldn’t be upset with him.
Finally I see Jordan lumber into view. He’s talking with their captain, Avery Westwood. Jordan’s head is turned away from me. As I leave the chair I’m sitting in and start toward them, Avery catches my eye and says something to my brother. Jordan’s head turns and he stops walking. Avery takes Jordan’s bag and nods at me with a small smile as he walks by and continues out of the hotel to the team bus.
I nod at Avery as he goes and I try to forget that he slept with Callie last summer at Cole and Leah’s joint bachelor-bachelorette party. I walk over to my brother and hand him the tall americano I bought for him. He takes it from me wordlessly. I sip my own latte. We walk toward the restaurant, away from the constant stream of players heading out the front doors.
