Van Read Online Sawyer Bennett (Cold Fury Hockey #9)

Categories Genre: Erotic, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Cold Fury Hockey Series by Sawyer Bennett
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
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I have that luxury with Simone, though, and since looking at her is a better pastime than pretty much anything else, I’ve taken to hanging around like this. She doesn’t seem to mind and we always have easy banter going. Lately we’d been arguing over classic literature. I was a huge reader in high school, and still try to read at least one book a month when I have some downtime.

Simone is a math and science geek, though, so she pretty much hated anything to do with literature. I tried to have a discussion with her about Beowulf, which I had reread about a year ago, and all I got from her was that she hated the movie.

I hadn’t even known there was a movie.

Fuck, Etta’s going to love her. In fact, Etta’s probably conspiring now to pick out our china pattern, a thought that causes some minor chest palpitations.

I told Etta about Simone and me the day after Lucas busted us, and then pretty much forced Simone to bring me to a family get-together. I figured the least I could do was let Etta know about Simone, since it’s like her dying wish to see me in a relationship.

And I did it for Simone too.

I knew it would mean something to Simone to have me open up my life a little bit more to her.

Etta had called while I had been folding some laundry at the kitchen table and watching some game film on my laptop. Simone was flipping through a magazine on the couch, chewing on a piece of bubble gum and blowing huge bubbles with it that made me have very dirty thoughts about the power of her mouth.

I knew Simone would be listening in, and I kept my eyes pinned on her the entire time. After I got through catching up with Etta, she asked the invariable “Are you seeing anyone?” question, and this time, I was able to say, “Why, yes, I am.”

Etta shrieked, but Simone didn’t give any indication she was listening. That statement in and of itself was benign. But pursuant to Etta’s demand for details, Simone’s eyes came to me while blowing a bubble when she heard me say, “Her name’s Simone and she’s an annoying little brat, but good thing she’s sexy as hell, or I would have kicked her to the curb a long time ago.”

Simone just rolled her eyes, sucked the gum back into her mouth, and went back to reading the magazine. But she had a smile on her face, and it stayed there the entire conversation as I answered all of Etta’s questions about my girl.

When I hung up, Simone attacked me and we had sex on top of the kitchen table. I took that to mean she was insanely happy I told Etta about her. I had met her parents as well as her brother Malik when they came for games one and two, and they were as cool as I’d imagined they would be. Everything with that family is low drama and pressure, and it made for an easier transition for me into this whole relationship thing.

Since that phone call, Etta has probably sent me three dozen texts about Simone. I’ve been driving her batty by giving her short answers or not responding at all, but fuck, I’m in the play-offs here and I don’t have time to be gossiping with my meddling aunt.

Luckily I’m hooking them up for game three tomorrow in Vancouver. I talked Simone into going to the game. Well, I went ahead and bought her a first-class ticket so she couldn’t refuse. Luckily she’s got some cool coworkers and a cool boss who are letting her switch some shifts so she can go to the all the games. After all, it’s not often a girl has two brothers and a boyfriend in the Stanley Cup competition.

And yes, the word boyfriend comes easy to me. I may not have ever used it in the context of myself before, but I do know the definition, and well, fuck…I fit it now.

So Etta will make the short flight to Vancouver from San Francisco. She’s going to stay at the team hotel, and while I’m at practice, she and Simone are going to hang out.

Simone actually flies out this evening, while I’m leaving in about three hours. I hate that she just got all fresh and shit from a shower, because she has to know I’m going to mess her up again.

If she forgot, I better clue her in.

Stepping into the bathroom that smells of fruity shampoo and hot-as-fuck woman, I step up behind Simone, putting my hands on her waist. She’s wearing nothing but a simple gray cotton bra and matching panties. Some of her most conservative lingerie and it still gets me hard every single time.


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