Page 87 of Slap Shot Surprise
“Why not?”
“Because my answer will cross the line.”
She didn’t say anything, and I thought I’d gone too far.
“Fuck. Sorry. Forget I said that.”
“Which line?” she asked.
“The one drawn between us.”
“So you’re wishing you could be on my side of the line tonight?”
“Yes. But don’t worry—I won’t cross it. I know it’s better this way.” I paused. “I was just thinking about you is all.”
“It’s okay. I was thinking about you too.”
We were at a standstill. It felt like a face-off where the ref had dropped the puck but neither player wanted to be the first to touch it, even though they both wanted to score.
“I should go back to my room,” she whispered.
“Probably.”
She began to roll away and my arm shot out, my fingers catching her forearm.
“But I don’t want you to go,” I said.
“You don’t?”
“No. Stay.”
She settled back onto her side, facing me like before, and I let go of her arm.
“We don’t have to do anything,” I told her. “I won’t even touch you, if you don’t want me to. I know what the rules are. I just want to be close to you.”
“Iwantyou to touch me, Joe,” she said softly but urgently. “I know it’s a bad idea. I know it’s wrong. But I really want you to touch me.”
I reached over and slid my hand from her thigh to her hip, slipping beneath the hem of the T-shirt. I kneaded her hip tenderly. “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
My hand traveled over her rounded stomach and up to one breast, cupping it gently. She arched her back, pressing herself into my palm, and sucked in her breath as my thumb teased her nipple, making it hard. God, I wanted mymouth on her. Leaning forward, I closed my lips around the cotton-covered peak, sucking softly, wetting her shirt.
She groaned, cradling my head in her hands, threading her fingers into my hair, raking her nails across my scalp. “That feels so good.”
Tipping her onto her back, I did the same thing to her other breast while my fingers played with the first, twisting its pebbled tip through the damp cotton. After a moment, she lifted my head from her chest.
“Let me take this off,” she whispered before removing her shirt and tossing it to the floor.
Under the blankets, my cock was hard as granite and aching for her touch.
But I didn’t want to push this farther than she wanted to take it.
“Do you want to get under the covers?” I asked.
“Yes.” She started to climb beneath them.
“Just so you know, I’m naked under here.”
