Talk Hockey to Me (Bears Hockey #3) - Kelly Jamieson Page 0,51

to the corners of my eyes. I blink them back. “I missed you, too.”

“I know you sort of work for me now…but it doesn’t feel like that. It feels like you have the power.”

I turn my head slowly side to side. “I like to think of it as a partnership.”

He purses his lips. “Yeah. That’s a good way to think of it. Partners. And…I’m not cutting out this time.”

“What does that mean?” Might as well be up front here.

“I mean…I like being with you. Spending time with you. Laughing with you.” He dips his head to rub his nose alongside mine. “Fucking you.”

I press my lips together. “That sounds like…” I stop. “That sounds like a relationship.”

“Yeah. It does.” He clears his throat.

“Is that okay?” I search his face. He’s the one who went out with the girls who only wanted to date hockey players so he wouldn’t get too attached. “Is that what we’re trying?”

When he asked me in the car if we could try this, I had to think. I like Hunter. I liked him years ago. I probably loved him. I know it’s taking a risk. But maybe we can do this. So I said yes. But is this truly what he wants?

* * *

“Yeah. That is what we’re trying.” He kisses my forehead so tenderly and my heart melts in my chest.

Now we’ve admitted our feelings for each other, we can’t get enough of the sexy times. I’m not complaining.

But that’s not all it is. It’s still fun going for a walk with him or sitting on a patio and people watching. And it’s still hockey season—tonight’s the Stanley Cup final. St. Louis versus Boston. Hunter thinks St. Louis should win. I’m still cheering for Callum.

We watch the game at my place, eating pizza and drinking a beer on the couch, pretending that we’re providing the color commentary, each of us trying to outdo the other with the dirty hockey talk.

“Look at that penetration!” Hunter calls.

I snort laugh. Moments later, I get my own chance. “Zach Zelinsky takes a pounding!”

Hunter grins. “Good one.”

Then the real announcer chimes in with, “Colbert slides his hands down the shaft when he needs to.”

“Did you hear that?” I crack up, falling against Hunter’s big chest which is also shaking with laughter.

I get the next one. “That’s a long shift. Melburn and Treiber need to get off.”

“Ha!” Hunter guffaws. “Jesus, you always make me laugh.” He pauses. “Also, super horny.”

“Hunter!”

“It’s true.” He kisses my nose.

“Well.” I shift against him suggestively. “You’re not the only one.”

St. Louis wins the game and we both watch the celebrations and sadness with the same feelings of recognition and envy. We’ve both been winners and I know Hunter would love to win again, hoisting that beautiful big silver cup.

And when it’s all over, he takes my glass from my hand, sets it on the table with his own, and pulls me onto his lap. With a hand in my hair he kisses me—long, deep, wet kisses that go on and on. Heat builds inside me. I want him so much, I’m dying. Licks of electricity race over my nerve endings.

“I like this shirt.” With a half-smile on his face, he touches the lettering on my T-shirt that says don’t puck with me. “But it’s coming off.”

I lift my arms as he pulls it up and over my head. “It’s okay. You can puck with me if you want.”

He grins. “I want.” He admires my sheer demi-bra, tracing a finger from between my breasts down over my abs. Sensation skitters through me, my already-hard nipples tightening even more. He opens the button of my jeans, lowers the fly and holds my hips so I’m tight against his erection as he kisses my throat, my chest, the inner curves of each breast. He bites one nipple through the sheer fabric, giving me a jolt of exquisite pleasure.

I reach behind me to undo my bra and let it fall so he can touch my aching breasts and he obliges with a low groan of appreciation, cupping them, sucking, licking. He kisses all around the outer curves and it’s torturous and erotic.

I rub my pussy over his cock, our jeans a barrier between us. I want to touch him. Taste him.

I slide off him and down to my knees on the floor between his spread thighs, my fingers going eagerly to his jeans to open them. Just as quickly, he whips his shirt off over his head and then lifts