Page 23 of Pucking Only
“Where?” I demand to know.
“In my mouth.” She parts her lips and opens her mouth wide. I hiss out a breath as I stroke myself faster and faster, gritting my teeth as pleasure burns through my belly.
I offer it to her, pressing the head against her lips. She responds instantly, licking the drop of precum before taking the tip into her mouth and sucking on it.
I groan. Fuck, I wish this was real. I wish Skyler was here right now, kneeling on my shower floor with her mouth around my cock instead of my hand.
She sucks me deeper into her mouth, looking up at me through those sexy glasses of hers. I want to touch her so badly. Run my hand down her torso and feel her breasts. Bend over so I can touch her between her legs and feel how wet she is for me.
“Carson, I want more,” she whimpers. “I need more.”
“Tell me what you want, baby.”
She gives me a sultry look. “You know what I want.”
I do. She wants me to fuck her. This is my fantasy, after all, so of course I know what she wants.
Because that’s what I want.
I blink and she’s suddenly standing back up and beckoning me toward her with a crook of her finger. I cross to her and grab her by the waist, pulling her in for a kiss before I spin her around so her back is against my chest. Running my hands up her sides, I cup her breasts and thumb her nipples as she gasps and moans.
The sounds I make as I continue to stroke myself mirror the ones I’m imagining she might make.
Pleasure coils deep in my belly, growing tighter and tighter as I get closer to release. I focus on my fantasy as I envision pushing Skyler up against the shower wall.
“Please, Carson,” she begs. “Please don’t make me wait any longer.”
“I won’t,” I growl out loud. “I’m going to make you forget any other man exists other than me.”
What is happening to me? I never think things like that, let alone say them. The words just seem to flow through my mind. I can’t stop them.
I gaze down at Skyler’s willing and ready body and I let out a deep groan.
Just as I’m envisioning lining myself up to plunge inside her, my body jerks and my orgasm rolls through me, taking me by surprise. I snarl as I come hard.
The fantasy of Skyler fades away as I come down from the high of my release. Resting my arm against the shower wall, I lean against it and let the water flow down my neck and back as I fight to catch my breath.
Damn it. That was unexpected. My imagination just really ran away with me. I can’t let that happen again. I can’t have these thoughts about Skyler. It’s too much of a slippery slope. I already let my jealousy of her ruin my night with my team, and I’m sure it didn’t escape Wilder and Cruz’s notice. If I don’t get a hold of myself, I’m only going to make things awkward, not only for me and Skyler, but our friends as well.
Maybe the best thing for me to do is keep my distance from her. Otherwise, I’m not sure what I might end up doing. I’m pretty certain we would both regret it.
CHAPTER SEVEN: NOT THE BOSS OF ME
SKYLER
The days followingmy initial meeting with the Night Hawks pass in a bit of a whirlwind as I immerse myself into the game. It’s a little weird, since I’ve never been a big fan, but having some insider assistance is proving incredibly helpful. Zander is a godsend. He’s patient and thorough in his explanations. He is a snack to look at, too, which makes listening to him ramble on about defensive maneuvers and trick shots, or whatever, bearable. He’s becoming a really good friend, and I’m so grateful for it. It makes it so much easier to ask the questions I worry might be silly or basic.
I sit in on another practice, and then Grace and I drive together to the game in Utah. Being in the stands of an actual game is both wild and overwhelming. The fans are crazy, shouting, cheering, booing, and jeering when fights break out. The Night Hawks are thrilling to watch, and as much as I hate to admit it, Carson is a superb goalie. We win two to zero. I find myself up on my feet, shouting in excitement right along with the other Night Hawk fans.
After the next practice, I eagerly wait for Zander to come out of the locker room so we can grab food againand go over my latest notes. I’m feeling extremely motivated after receiving an email from Samuel earlier today. He bragged about how well things are going for his game. Now, more than ever, I feel pressure to make sure my game is absolutely perfect so I can crush his smug ass. As I stand by the exit, flipping through my notebook, I catch a figure approaching out of the corner of my eye. Thinking it’s Zander, I look up with a grin but then freeze when I realize it’s Carson. He stops in front of me, his brow furrowed.
Shit, I haven’t spoken one-on-one with him since my first night in Denver. Whenever we’ve been around each other, other people have been present. Right now, there’s no one else in this hallway but the two of us, so I can’t exactly ignore him.
I can’t help but drag my eyes over him. He’s wearing a tight white t-shirt and…fucking gray sweatpants. His hair is damp and plastered to his forehead. Damn it, I hate how sexy he is. It makes me think of that dirty fantasy I had of him and suddenly I’m imagining him pinning me up against the wall behind me, with his hand lightly wrapped around my throat. I swallow and force my gaze away as I pull my slim black jacket tighter around me.
Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it! Stop thinking about him like that.
“What are you still doing here?” he asks. “Didn’t Grace already leave?”