The Boyfriend Goal (Love and Hockey #1) Read Online Lauren Blakely

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Forbidden, Funny, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Love and Hockey Series by Lauren Blakely
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Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
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A wave of heat rolls down my spine. That’s what she wants. To mix things up. Break up the routine. She came to the right guy.

But before I can strip her naked and do unholy things to her, she zeroes in on the framed picture, beelining toward it on the nightstand. She stops, stares at it, then turns to me, like she’s busting me. “You have a picture of a dog.”

It’s a shot of a black-and-white Collie mix catching a frisbee. “Yeah, that’s Frosty. My sister’s dog. She adopted him a year ago. He’s a senior—that’s why she calls him Frosty.”

She blinks. “Your sister’s dog? You have a framed photo of your sister’s dog?”

“He’s cute,” I say easily, but maybe defensively.

Shaking her head, Josie advances toward me. “Shut up. Nothing makes me want to lose my clothes faster than that.”

Holy shit. This is my lucky night. “Good because you’re about to,” I say, then jerk her against me so she feels the length tenting my pants. I kiss her hard, unhooking her bra this time, then shoving her jeans down. She steps out of them. “Last night,” I begin, kissing the hinge of her jaw, “over text. You said no one had asked you what you’re into.”

“Right,” she says, breathless as I coast my mouth along her chin.

“Tell me what else you like. Tell me what you watch.” I stop, meet her gaze, give a tug to a handful of her chestnut hair. “Besides pigeon porn.”

She laughs, but then asks carefully, “Really?”

“Fuck yes.” It’s decisive. I want her to know I mean it completely.

She nibbles on the corner of her lips, then breathes out, like she needs courage. I curl my hands around her hips. “You’re not going to scare me off,” I say, since I sense she needs some reassurance that it’s okay to crack open her box of turn-ons. I will treat them with care, and, probably, horny gusto.

“I’ve never told anyone.”

That only makes me want to know more. “Tell me,” I say, a demand, but I hope she can hear the vulnerability in my voice. I want to be the man she shares her dirty wishes with. I’m not interested in foisting my likes onto her. “It turns me on to give you everything you want,” I add, so she’s clear—I’m game to give her all her filthy fantasies.

There’s a pause, then she says, “If you insist.”

I grind my dick against her so she gets the message. “I do. I fucking do.”

With a here goes nothing shrug, she says, “There’s this site I like. It caters to women. And I find myself watching videos that have these types of scenes.”

Then she tells me the scenes, the things, the wishes.

I am blown away. The night I met her our chemistry sparked. But I had no way of knowing she was so perfectly dirty.

“You want all that?” I ask.

She nods eagerly. “I do.”

“Good. Undress me,” I say, and that’s not technically on her list, but it’s a necessary start.

She reaches for the top button on my shirt, then makes quick work of undoing it, pushing it off me. Then, her eager fingers work open my belt, the button, then the zipper. In no time, my pants are off, and I’m down to boxer briefs. I grab a fistful of her hair and jerk her close, planting a rough, bruising kiss to her mouth. Hooking my thumb into her panties, I shove them down.

She steps out of them and stands before me, naked and glorious, wearing only her black-and-white glasses. “Disrespect me, Wes,” she says.

“Get on your back, spread your legs wide, and show me how wet you are,” I tell her, using her road map.

A breath stutters across her lips as she complies, lying down, spreading those thighs, then gliding a hand between her thighs. I grab my shirt from the floor, carrying it as I walk toward her, watching her the whole time. “This is what you did in your room the last few nights, like a dirty girl?”

She strokes faster. “Yes.”

“You sure you didn’t come up here? Get on my bed? Play with yourself right fucking here?”

She gasps. “I’m sure.”

I tilt my head like I just don’t believe her. “You didn’t go into my closet, flick through my clothes, put on one of my shirts, then sit on the edge of my bed, and stroke that sweet cunt as you sniffed me on my shirt?” I toss her the shirt.

She grabs it. “I didn’t. I followed your rules.” She slides her arms into the sleeves.

And my dick is a skyscraper.

Holy fuck. That is the sexiest image ever in the world. Josie, in my white dress shirt that smells like me. Spreading her thighs, twirling a strand of hair, her glasses on. She turns her face to the collar and inhales.


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