I lie flatter on her so that she can’t stare into my shirt and when her eyes meet mine, she repeats my words. “Gods?”
I don't always tell one-night stands I'm bi. In fact, I used to never tell anyone. It was my dirty little secret. Now… since my marriage imploded, it's not so much a secret as a fact that I am soft-launching to the world.
Nothing tenses. Not a single part of her body. Instead, she slides her lips to my ear and sucks so gently and sweetly on the lobe it sends surges of warmth zipping through my veins. This isn't the usual one-night stand behavior, and that's kind of cool. This woman is an enigma and I didn't realize how much of a turn-on that is.
“Gods. Goddess. You’ll call me anything, won’t you?”
Okay, so the subtle meaning flew right over her head. So much for soft-launching my sexuality. And I'm enjoying her lips on me too much to derail this moment to make a statement. I'll never see her after tonight anyway, so might as well stay on topic. And the topic is pleasure.
“I’ll call you Olivia,” I murmur, my hands in her hair. “After I make you come so hard you forget your name.”
“Oh Jesus, this is happening…” she whispers. I stare at her and she bites her bottom lip as she gazes right back at me from under her thick, dark lashes that don’t look like they’ve got a lick of mascara on them. Natural beauty this one.
“It’s only happening if you want it to happen. Do you?”
“Yes.” She says it with confidence as her hands slide down my back. “You. Just you. Tonight. Just tonight.”
I really like the confidence in her voice. She’s choosing me and I know that’s important. She’s fucking gorgeous and charismatic. She could have brought that other guy to her hotel room tonight. Hell, I doubt there is a single straight or bi man in Vegas who wouldn’t want to be here. But she wants me and that feels great. I kiss her again. The taste of cinnamon from the Fireball is still on her tongue.
I roll my hips, gently, slowly. Normally I’m not this casual with hook-ups. There’s usually a sense of urgency on both our parts. We know what we’re here for and we’re ready to get to business. But Olivia isn’t rushing so neither am I.
Her hands land on my ass and she squeezes. I respond appropriately by rolling my hips again. Her legs have spread to either side of my hips and there’s a short, sharp intake of breath as my very hard cock ruts up against her very soft center.
“Fireball, I’m gonna need to loosen my pants or take a cold shower,” I confess against her cheek. “Your call.”
And that’s when I feel her hands slip around my waist and start unbuttoning my fly.
Chapter6
Liv
Ithink my hands are shaking a little as I pop his button on the fly to his shorts. If he notices, I'll blame it on desire. I mean I think that's a factor because, under all my jitters, I really do want this. I'm not just convincing myself I do like I have been all night. Now… with Crew's warm, welcoming body on mine and his lips kissing me senseless, I am totally on board.
He kisses my neck and lifts himself off me. As he kneels at the end of the bed and finishes undoing his fly, I move to the top of the bed. Resting my back against the headboard, I watch him. I’m grateful the light is dim so he doesn’t see the look on my face too clearly. I’m sure it’s a mix of awe and trepidation.
Crew stands at the foot of the bed now, so his shorts slip right to the ground. He keeps his eyes on me as he reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it up over his head, ignoring the buttons. Now I may be a virgin but I’m not dead inside. Crew Westwood in nothing but his underwear in front of me is a gift. “You look like someone graffitied a marble sculpture of a Greek god.”
He chuckles, his hand cupping and adjusting his very big, very bulging package. “Fireball, do you just say whatever pops into your head? Not that I’m complaining. You are great for the ego.”
I give him a tiny shrug as he kicks his shorts off his ankles. “Actually I usually don’t say anything I think or feel. I’m branching out tonight.”
"Interesting." He bends. I can be hyper-critical of hockey and its players but I will never fault the physique it gives them. Never ever. Crew stands up with a square foil thing in his hand. "I am here for whatever you need me for, Olivia."
He says my full name, the only one I've given him, slowly in a deep tone that I swear just made my panties damp. He tosses the condom and it lands squarely on the night table. He grins like an NBA player who just made a buzzer-beating three-pointer. And then he leans forward and grabs my ankles.
Before I realize what's happening I'm slipping down the mattress, flat on my back. Then he's hovering above me again, this time balancing on one hand while his other lands on my bare thigh at the hem of my dress. I look him dead in the eye while his hand begins to climb. He has the dress up to my hips in no time then. He kisses my stomach, which makes me tingle everywhere.
I tip my head back and tell myself not to freak out. I am not the completely innocent, scared virgin my family likes to pretend I am. I’ve had boyfriends and we’ve done stuff. Lots of stuff. I’m not scared of men. I’m not saving myself for marriage. I was just waiting for a feeling. But then it became a thing. I was the only virgin I knew and then it just felt like pressure. Like I had to pick the right guy and the right time or it was all for naught. So I did what I always do in situations where I have to be bold. I did nothing.
“Olivia. Look at me.”
That’s when I realize I was all the way up in my own head, staring blankly at the ceiling while Crew has unzipped the side zipper on my dress. I hold my breath and lower my eyes. He’s staring at me curiously. “You good?”
“So good.” This is exactly what I want.
“If you aren’t, just say it. Say no. Say stop. Say hey Crew get the fuck out,” he tells me with a soft smile. “I promise even if I’ve got balls bluer than the ocean I will listen.”
I smile. Man, I like this guy.
