I Seduced His Rival: Now the Hockey Star Wants Me novel · Chapter 10 of 24

Chapter 10: Not a Game

He didn't finish the ice.

He left the Zamboni parked in the corner with the water still steaming.

He drove me to Brighton with my soaked sneakers on the dashboard vent.

The heat in the truck was still broken.

Neither of us mentioned it.

The apartment was dark. His roommates were at the big one's girlfriend's place in Somerville until morning.

Luc locked the door behind us and stood there with his back against it.

"Finola," he said, his voice rough. "Come here."

"I came on the B train in wet sneakers to tell you something. You think I'm standing by the door?"

Something in his face broke open.

He laughed, low and surprised, and then he wasn't laughing.

Luc didn't move from the door at first.

He let me come to him.

I put my hands on the hem of his hoodie and pulled it up.

He lifted his arms and let me take it off.

The T-shirt underneath was thin and warm from his skin.

I pushed that up too, and he pulled it over his head and dropped it on the floor.

His chest was broader than I'd let myself look at before.

Dark hair on his chest, his stomach tight when I put my palm flat on it.

"You're shaking," he said.

"My feet are still cold."

He took my face in his hands again, like he had in the Barn.

"You walked onto wet ice in sneakers," he said.

"I'd do it again."

His mouth came down on mine and this time it wasn't slow.

He kissed me like he'd been waiting for permission and I'd just given it.

His hands went to my hips, then under my fleece, and his palms were hot through the thin fabric of my leggings.

I pulled back just enough to get the fleece over my head.

The sports bra went next, and then his hands were on my bare back, pulling me into him.

"Rule one," I said against his mouth.

"What about it."

"No faking it halfway. That's what you said to me at the bar. The first night."

"I remember."

"I'm not faking any of this."

"Good." His teeth grazed my bottom lip. "Because I'm not either."

I pushed him backward.

He went, surprised, and sat down hard on the edge of the bed.

The bedframe groaned.

I climbed onto his lap, one knee on either side of his thighs, and his hands came up to my waist like they belonged there.

"I want you to fuck me," I said.

His fingers dug into my hips.

"Say it again."

"I want you to fuck me. Not for anybody watching. Not for any plan. Because I want you."

His eyes were dark and he was looking at me the way he'd looked at me on the ice.

Like I was something he hadn't let himself believe in.

"Finola," he said.

"Luc."

I reached between us and found the drawstring on his sweatpants.

I untied it and slid my hand inside.

He was hard and hot against my palm, and the sound he made went straight through me.

"You've been thinking about this," I said.

"Every night since November."

I wrapped my hand around his cock and stroked him once, slow.

His head fell back and his hips came up off the bed.

"Fuck," he said through his teeth.

I did it again, and his hands left my hips to grip the edge of the mattress.

"Look at me," I said.

He lifted his head and his eyes met mine.

He was breathing hard, his chest rising, and he was the most undone I'd ever seen him.

"Tell me what you want," he said, and his voice was rough.

"I told you. I want you."

"You have me."

I let go of him long enough to push his sweatpants down.

He lifted his hips and they went to the floor, and then there was nothing between us but my leggings.

He peeled them off me himself, his hands slow and deliberate, and when they were gone he sat back and looked at me.

"Jesus, Finola."

"What."

"I knew you'd be like this."

He pulled me closer and his mouth found my neck.

His teeth grazed my pulse and I gasped.

His hand slid up between my thighs and he found me wet already, his fingers parting me, and I ground down against his palm without meaning to.

"So wet," he said against my throat. "For me."

"Yes."

"More," I said.

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