The Goal
Page 7
I grit my teeth as my erection nearly breaks through the zipper. The only reason I didn’t kiss her the second we were outside the bar is because if I’d started, I probably would’ve taken her against the side of the building. But now she’s touching me, and my self-control is more elusive than a puff of steam.
“Let’s do it here,” she says decisively.
I frown. “In the truck?”
“Why not? Do you need candles and rose petals? It’s just sex,” she insists.
“Darlin’, you keep saying that and I’m going to start wondering if it’s really me you want to convince.” My breath catches when her thumb strokes a tiny circle in the center of my palm. Fuck it. I need her too bad. “But fine. You want to do me in this truck, then the truck it is.”
Without another word, I reach beneath me and push the seat back as far as it can go. Then I shrug out of my jacket and toss it into the backseat.
“You got any guidelines for your just-sex hookups?” I drawl. “Like no kissing on the lips?”
“Hell, no. Do I look like Julia Roberts?”
I scrunch up my eyebrows.
“Pretty Woman?” she prompts. “Hooker with the heart of gold? No kissing the johns?”
I grin. “So what you’re saying is that you’ll kiss this John?” I tap my chest so she knows I’m referring to my name and not implying that she’s a hooker.
She snickers. “If you don’t kiss me, I’ll be pissed. I need kissing. Otherwise I’d just stay at home with my vibe.”
A smile creeps across my face. With my back against the window and my boot up on the console, I create a cradle for her hot body and beckon her toward me. “Then come and get what you need.”
3
Sabrina
Tucker sits there with a slight smile on his face and a huge erection in his pants. My tongue sneaks out to wet my lips as excitement buzzes through my veins. God, that monster is going to feel so good inside me.
My gaze falls to his neatly trimmed beard, and I wonder, briefly, whether I should’ve given Carin a shot at him. After all, beards were on her bucket list. But now I’m wondering what that scruff would feel like between my legs. Soft? Scratchy? I squeeze my thighs together in anticipation.
Hope and Carin were so right. I do need to get laid, and hockey player or not, I believe Tucker is the guy for the job. He has confidence without the ego, which is the biggest turn-on ever. When he’d said “you” in response to my question about what he wanted, I nearly came in my panties.
And he seems steady, as if an earthquake wouldn’t shake him. I even admired the way he stuck up for Dean, even though I know the loyalty is misplaced. Tucker had to have known that if he’d lied about his friendship with Dean, he could’ve stood a better chance with me, but he chose honesty, which I value most out of everything.
“Need some direction?” His voice is low and gravelly, drawing out those syllables. Die rehhhc shun.
Sweet Jesus, that accent.
“Just considering my options.” I love that he’s just sitting there, instructing me to take what I need. As if his big cock exists just for me.
I can’t wait, but I can’t decide what I want to do first, either. My mouth waters at the thought of his shaft dragging against my tongue, but my core aches at the anticipation of him stretching me, filling me all the way up.
“Why don’t we start with the kissing you’re so fond of?” he suggests.
I meet his hot gaze. “Where?” I ask coyly, which is weird, because I’m never coy. But there’s something about the surety in him that draws out the woman in me, and I find I don’t mind it at all.
He taps one big finger against his lower lip. “Right here.”
As seductively as possible, I crawl over the console and onto his lap, allowing my heels to drop onto the floor of the truck. His mouth parts in invitation, but I don’t immediately press my lips to his.
Instead, I run my fingertips across his beard, from one side of his jaw to the other. “Soft,” I murmur.
His eyes darken and grow so full of lust that it’s hard to breathe. And then he grabs me, tired of waiting and tired of talking.
Our mouths slam together. He tangles a hand in my hair and I’m not sure if it’s to get a better angle or provide more leverage for the force of his invasion. Either way, his tongue is making me feel magical things downstairs. I’m forgetting why I almost turned him down.
I mean, tall, hot, dark auburn hair, scruffy beard? Why did I even hesitate? Oh, that’s right. Because he’s a hockey player.
Tearing my mouth away, I pant, “Just for the record, I hate hockey players. This is a one-time-only deal.”
He sweeps my hair to the side to expose my throat. “Noted. I won’t even remind you of this when you’re begging me for a second round.”
Laughing, I grab his head and hold it against me as he tongues his way down my throat to the tops of my breasts. “Never happening.”
“Don’t tie yourself to absolutes. It makes it easier to back away. More graceful.”
His words are somewhat muffled as he buries his face in my cleavage. A callused hand pulls at my shirt, and then I hear a frustrated growl when the neckline doesn’t lower enough to give him access to what he wants.
Good thing our needs are aligned. I reach between us and yank my sweater off, and his mouth latches on to my nipple before I can get my bra undone. When I reach around to undo the clasp, his hands bat mine away.
My laugh at his eagerness dies in my throat as his palm closes around one bare breast. I arch into his rough caress. Oh gosh, it’s been way, way too long. As Tucker’s mouth gets busy sucking on one puckered nipple, his fingers pinch and tease the other one.
He’s good at this. He knows how deep to suck, how hard to bite, how tender to kiss, and despite the rod in his pants, he acts like he could do this nipple-sucking deed all night long.
I rock my lower body over his erection, fumbling to push my skirt out of the way so I can really feel him. I want it off, damn it. I want his naked body rubbing against mine. I want him inside me.
I want it all.
I fish for the bottom of his T-shirt. He offers me zero assistance, because he’s too intent on my breasts right now. I find the hem and pull it hard. Only then does he separate from me, and the cool air in the truck causes my nipples to tighten even more.
“Let’s do it here,” she says decisively.
I frown. “In the truck?”
“Why not? Do you need candles and rose petals? It’s just sex,” she insists.
“Darlin’, you keep saying that and I’m going to start wondering if it’s really me you want to convince.” My breath catches when her thumb strokes a tiny circle in the center of my palm. Fuck it. I need her too bad. “But fine. You want to do me in this truck, then the truck it is.”
Without another word, I reach beneath me and push the seat back as far as it can go. Then I shrug out of my jacket and toss it into the backseat.
“You got any guidelines for your just-sex hookups?” I drawl. “Like no kissing on the lips?”
“Hell, no. Do I look like Julia Roberts?”
I scrunch up my eyebrows.
“Pretty Woman?” she prompts. “Hooker with the heart of gold? No kissing the johns?”
I grin. “So what you’re saying is that you’ll kiss this John?” I tap my chest so she knows I’m referring to my name and not implying that she’s a hooker.
She snickers. “If you don’t kiss me, I’ll be pissed. I need kissing. Otherwise I’d just stay at home with my vibe.”
A smile creeps across my face. With my back against the window and my boot up on the console, I create a cradle for her hot body and beckon her toward me. “Then come and get what you need.”
3
Sabrina
Tucker sits there with a slight smile on his face and a huge erection in his pants. My tongue sneaks out to wet my lips as excitement buzzes through my veins. God, that monster is going to feel so good inside me.
My gaze falls to his neatly trimmed beard, and I wonder, briefly, whether I should’ve given Carin a shot at him. After all, beards were on her bucket list. But now I’m wondering what that scruff would feel like between my legs. Soft? Scratchy? I squeeze my thighs together in anticipation.
Hope and Carin were so right. I do need to get laid, and hockey player or not, I believe Tucker is the guy for the job. He has confidence without the ego, which is the biggest turn-on ever. When he’d said “you” in response to my question about what he wanted, I nearly came in my panties.
And he seems steady, as if an earthquake wouldn’t shake him. I even admired the way he stuck up for Dean, even though I know the loyalty is misplaced. Tucker had to have known that if he’d lied about his friendship with Dean, he could’ve stood a better chance with me, but he chose honesty, which I value most out of everything.
“Need some direction?” His voice is low and gravelly, drawing out those syllables. Die rehhhc shun.
Sweet Jesus, that accent.
“Just considering my options.” I love that he’s just sitting there, instructing me to take what I need. As if his big cock exists just for me.
I can’t wait, but I can’t decide what I want to do first, either. My mouth waters at the thought of his shaft dragging against my tongue, but my core aches at the anticipation of him stretching me, filling me all the way up.
“Why don’t we start with the kissing you’re so fond of?” he suggests.
I meet his hot gaze. “Where?” I ask coyly, which is weird, because I’m never coy. But there’s something about the surety in him that draws out the woman in me, and I find I don’t mind it at all.
He taps one big finger against his lower lip. “Right here.”
As seductively as possible, I crawl over the console and onto his lap, allowing my heels to drop onto the floor of the truck. His mouth parts in invitation, but I don’t immediately press my lips to his.
Instead, I run my fingertips across his beard, from one side of his jaw to the other. “Soft,” I murmur.
His eyes darken and grow so full of lust that it’s hard to breathe. And then he grabs me, tired of waiting and tired of talking.
Our mouths slam together. He tangles a hand in my hair and I’m not sure if it’s to get a better angle or provide more leverage for the force of his invasion. Either way, his tongue is making me feel magical things downstairs. I’m forgetting why I almost turned him down.
I mean, tall, hot, dark auburn hair, scruffy beard? Why did I even hesitate? Oh, that’s right. Because he’s a hockey player.
Tearing my mouth away, I pant, “Just for the record, I hate hockey players. This is a one-time-only deal.”
He sweeps my hair to the side to expose my throat. “Noted. I won’t even remind you of this when you’re begging me for a second round.”
Laughing, I grab his head and hold it against me as he tongues his way down my throat to the tops of my breasts. “Never happening.”
“Don’t tie yourself to absolutes. It makes it easier to back away. More graceful.”
His words are somewhat muffled as he buries his face in my cleavage. A callused hand pulls at my shirt, and then I hear a frustrated growl when the neckline doesn’t lower enough to give him access to what he wants.
Good thing our needs are aligned. I reach between us and yank my sweater off, and his mouth latches on to my nipple before I can get my bra undone. When I reach around to undo the clasp, his hands bat mine away.
My laugh at his eagerness dies in my throat as his palm closes around one bare breast. I arch into his rough caress. Oh gosh, it’s been way, way too long. As Tucker’s mouth gets busy sucking on one puckered nipple, his fingers pinch and tease the other one.
He’s good at this. He knows how deep to suck, how hard to bite, how tender to kiss, and despite the rod in his pants, he acts like he could do this nipple-sucking deed all night long.
I rock my lower body over his erection, fumbling to push my skirt out of the way so I can really feel him. I want it off, damn it. I want his naked body rubbing against mine. I want him inside me.
I want it all.
I fish for the bottom of his T-shirt. He offers me zero assistance, because he’s too intent on my breasts right now. I find the hem and pull it hard. Only then does he separate from me, and the cool air in the truck causes my nipples to tighten even more.
