Page 39 of He Has It All (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
Chapter 10
Chelsea
Trying not to pant, I press myself closer into his arms, hoping hard that he accepts me, doesn’t push me away again because I don’t think I could stand it. A strong breeze laps the ocean, bracing me. I take his hand and we walk back towards the hotel.
“No one will ever know,” I say more to reassure myself than him, because the last thing I want to do is mess up Maggie’s wedding weekend. “Just you and me. To make up for last time.”
“You’re confusing the hell out of me, Chelsea.” He walks with me even as he debates me.
When we reach the hotel, we stop and I can feel the contradiction to his words pulsing against me. He puts his hands on my face, holds it, the trembling unmistakable. And exciting as hell. I affect him enough for him to lose his cool. I matter to him.
“It’s simple.” My mouth quivers, my gut clenches, and I’m almost dizzy with the emotional enormity of the moment. “I want you. You want me. It doesn’t go beyond that.” I lick my lips, the intensity in his eyes making me bold. “It’s not like four years ago, Ryan. It’s not like I have a young girl’s crush on you. I’m a woman.”
“You’re not the kind of woman—”
“What? To play with a player? You’re right. I’m not. But this is exceptional. I think you’re hot, even if you are a big jerk. And I’d never be interested in a player except to play.” I smile, seeing the effect of my words in his eyes, the way they turn glassy. I feel the fire in him, his hard cock straining against me. Maybe excitement makes me reckless or maybe I’m convinced it’s inevitable, but I’ve always wanted Ryan O’Rourke and this is my chance to have him. Just this once.
We go inside and when I’m going to take him to my room, he surprises me and takes me in another direction.
“I have a room,” he says.
“Planning ahead for a hook-up?” I try to sound cool, but I’m not.
“No. The opposite. I planned to not play around this weekend.” I want to believe him, so I do.
“Tonight I’m in the mood to play,” I say.
We go inside his room and he slips his arms around me, kisses me.
“You sure—"
For an answer, I push away from him and, reaching over my shoulder, I unzip my dress.
He’s silent and staring as I slip from my dress, doesn’t say anything for so long I start to lose my nerve and have to force myself to continue.
“Do you have any idea how much I want you?” he says in a throaty growl that skids along my nerve endings, shooting pleasure through me.
Moving in, he takes over the chore of undressing me, unhooking my bra with a quick snap of his fingers. Remembering the same move from four years ago, my knees almost give away, but he wraps his arms around me as he tosses my bra to the floor, backing me into the bed.
But he doesn’t pull me onto the bed as I expect, instead holds me there in his arms, staring, and I realize he’s still warring with his conscience.
“Fuck me, Ryan.” I mean for my voice to come out sultry, but it sounds more pleading.
“That’s the thing,” he says. “I expect more from you than that, whether I deserve it or not.”
I sense him backing off and I panic, can’t let him leave me like this. Not again. But there’s nothing more I can say that I haven’t already. So I overcome his objections with my mouth, not with words but with a deep, soul-piercing kiss, all the more powerful for all the nameless emotions it unleashes in me. Promising myself I’ll never repeat this night, never tell a soul, I abandon whatever inhibitions I ever had, forget all about whatever hesitations I’ve ever had and allow myself the gift of this one time.
I don’t know if I can trust myself to survive intact, but it’s a chance I need to take, that I’ve needed since the last time we were together.
We fall together on the bed, him holding his weight off me with one arm and caressing my body with the other, his hand moving over my breasts, his rough palm brushing my nipple. The throbbing between my legs goes loud so that I feel the pounding in my ears, rushing through my head and flowing through me, heating me with a raging fire. Without a thought I reach down for his zipper.
He lifts his mouth from mine. The world stops. My eyes pop open, desperation for more seizing me, my breathing crazy and hard and fast, like he’s my air supply.
“Chels—” he rasps and the sound, needy and barely under control, ravages my senses.
“Don’t stop, Ryan. Don’t.”
He punishes me with a hard kiss, almost violent with something hot and greedy, like whatever had kept him under control until now has snapped. And snapped hard in a whiplash of raging desire following through, hitting me in all the right places, finding an answering fiery rage inside me.
