His mouth. His hands. The combination was nearly more than I could take.
We kissed for so long that my head spun and when his mouth finally left mine, I shuddered against him because he immediately sought out the small dip in my neck. We stumbled back into the wall and his hands became more urgent, his large palms full of me as he grinded his erection into my crotch.
“I can’t wait anymore,” he rasped against my neck, before kissing me once more, a quick slide of lips and tongue. “I need to see you.”
He held me, my head nestled into the crook of his shoulder, as he slowly made his way down the hall to my bedroom.
Once inside I slid down the length of him, though my arms clung to his neck and I refused to move away from his heat.
For a long time, Ben held me there his forehead against mine, the two of us breathing erratically and our hearts beating fast.
His hand caressed the side of my face and he moved my hair behind my shoulder, tracing my skin there with soft, butterfly kisses.
“You’re beautiful.”
“So are you,” I answered.
His hands slid down to the small of my back as his mouth made its way back to mine. I opened for him and this time the kiss was deep. It was about touch and thrust and taste.
Holy shit, but he was a good kisser. I could have spent minutes, hours, just kissing him. Tasting him and feeling him. But Ben had other ideas and as his hands gently tugged my dress higher (it was still bunched around my waist) I leaned back and held up my arms so he could lift it over my head.
Dilated pupils stared back at me. “Holy fuck, Georgia, I knew it.”
“Knew what?” I said breathlessly.
He nodded and stepped away, running his hands over the stubble that shadowed his jaw. “I knew that when I got you half naked wearing those shoes, it would do me in.”
Something powerful stirred inside me, something hot and delicious. “I’m not taking them off.”
“Good.” He said with a devilish grin. “But you should ditch the bra.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “I might consider it but you’ll have to take your shirt off first.” I glanced down at myself. “I’m feeling a little underdressed.”
He was unbuttoning his shirt before I finished talking.
Chapter Eleven
Ben
If you had told me that I was going to be a nut job over a girl last week, I would have laughed and told you that you were fucking crazy. I’m young. Barely twenty-four. I play hockey in the National Hockey League and in the last few years I’d seen and had more women, than my mother ever needed to know about.
Up until a few days ago I wasn’t looking for a relationship and I sure as hell wasn’t looking to hook up with Matt King’s sister. Shit, just the thought of the R word, relationship, should have freaked me the hell out because relationships changed a guy. Case in point? Jim Boone, my right winger in LA. He got all goofy over an actress he’d met last summer, started spouting the L word and he even let her convince him to cut off his signature hockey hair. The dude kept it long—it was his thing—but after she entered the picture it was one of the first things to go.
His hair and then his balls. She said jump and he fucking did. He was so into her that after hockey she was pretty much it, and I used to ride him for it big time—we all did. We called him ‘ball-less Boone’.
A week ago all I cared about was finding a place in Philly, getting acquainted with the team and having some fun. Getting laid. Partying a bit until it was time to crack the whip and start training for the coming season.
I’d reached my goal of playing for my dream team and was getting paid a shitload of money to do it. Life was good. It was summer and I was ready to kick it and have a good time. A week ago that stuff mattered to me.
But not anymore. Of course hockey was still number one, but now there was Georgia. Now it could be so much better.
The difference between last week and right now was staring at me…a five foot five slice of heaven in the sexiest come-fuck-me shoes I had ever seen.
She was every guy’s wet dream. The girl with a killer bod, hair you wanted to bury your hands in and eyes that didn’t quit.