Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
I slide my hands under his shirt and push it up, exposing his cut abs and defined chest. Kodiak pushes himself to the very limit of his capabilities in every single facet of his life. And it’s clear he’s worked incredibly hard on his body in order to excel at hockey.
If I’d planned this better, I would have taken his shirt off before I duct-taped him to the chair. Since I can’t do that now, I pull the front over his head, the material stretching across the back of his neck and cutting into his shoulders.
I run my fingers through his hair, taming the mess. He leans in, as if he’s about to kiss me, and I grip the strands gently. I shake my head, our lips almost touching. “You said you were going to talk to Mav.”
“I am. I will. I’m going to.” His breath is warm and sweet, like he’s been sucking on a watermelon Jolly Rancher. He used to eat them all the time when we were kids and share them with me, but not anyone else—little gifts that meant nothing and everything.
I don’t ask any more questions. Instead, I wait for him to offer the information I want.
“We have a game tomorrow, and we’re playing on the same line. It’s our biggest rival team, and I don’t want to mess it up, so I was planning to talk to him after.”
“Are you nervous?” I keep running my fingers through his silky hair, watching the strands sweep back over his forehead.
“About telling him?” His legs bounce, and I shift forward, my breasts hitting his chest.
“And the game.” I trace an infinity symbol on the side of his neck, I can almost taste his watermelon Jolly Rancher I’m so close to his lips.
“Yes and yes. We’ve lost to them once already this year, and I don’t want that to happen again. And Maverick is my teammate and my best friend; I don’t want to lose that either. But you’re integral to the fabric of my existence in a way that he’s not, and I feel like I’ve been sitting out in space for the past seven years without a sun to circle.”
I nod, and the tips of our noses brush with the movement, because I understand now, in a way I couldn’t have before yesterday, exactly how much this has tortured him. Even with all the pain he’s caused, I can see why he felt it was necessary.
“We’re a little fucked up, aren’t we?”
“Everyone’s fucked up, Lavender. We just happen to be the right kind of fucked up for each other.” He exhales a tremulous breath. “I’m sorry for all the ways I hurt us.”
His words are loaded, an apology that carries the weight and burden of years of guilt and absence.
I tilt his head down and press my lips to his forehead. “I know you are.”
I stay like that for a few moments, appreciating the calm it brings, despite how messed up this entire scenario happens to be—this heart-to-heart while I’m naked and he’s duct-taped to his computer chair.
Eventually, I tip his head back and trace his lips with my fingertips. He parts them, and I slip two inside. “Suck, please.”
His lips close, tongue sliding over the length of my fingers. The pulse between my legs flares to an almost unbearable level, but relief is coming soon. Not the kind either of us really wants, but it should provide the motivation Kodiak needs.
“Enough,” I tell him and ease my fingers from between his lips. Edging back a few inches to make room for my hand, I rub my wet fingers over my clit before I slide them inside me.
Kodiak’s mouth hangs open, breathing ragged, hands gripping the armrests. I pump slowly, finding the spot inside that’s hard to reach but makes me feel the most relaxed and overwhelmed at the same time. When the tingle between my thighs becomes an ache, I withdraw. Keeping one hand fisted in his hair, I raise my glistening fingers in front of him. “Would you like to know what I taste like?”
“Please. Fuck. Yes.”
I release his hair and he jerks forward, capturing my fingers in his mouth again. His teeth sink in at the third knuckle, locking them in place as he sucks hard. A low rumble comes from his chest, and he makes a thick, mewling sound.
I reach for the bottle of lube on his desk and prep Aqua-D. Then I rise up, position it at my entrance, and sink down.
It’s my turn to moan, soft and low.
Kodiak’s eyes pop open, and he releases me from his teeth. “Oh God. Holy hell.” He struggles against the duct tape, the arms of the chair creaking.
“It’s hard when you can’t have what you want, and it’s right there in front of you, isn’t it, Kodiak?” I brace my hands on his shoulders, lifting and lowering.