Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
I don’t have to wait long before Benson’s massive body is in view. I would like to say I forgot how much I enjoy seeing him on the ice, but I’d be lying. There is no forgetting this. There is no ignoring how great the teal of his home jersey brings out the gray of his eyes. Or how the skates he wears have him towering over everyone, and how the pads on his shoulders make him appear more like a bull than a regular hockey player.
I watch as the blade of his stick meets a puck, and he carries it toward the goal. When he shoots, the puck goes right in since there is no goalie, and as he rounds the goal, he looks over his shoulder. His eyes meet mine. Even through the thick plastic of the cage covering his face, his eyes are dark and burning toward me. He doesn’t have a smile on his face, though, but a smirk—a satisfied one that has my insides clenching in all the dirtiest ways. He moves on the ice with ease, his body flowing like water as he plays with the puck. He bounces it on his blade before shooting, and each time the puck goes in, his eyes find mine.
Business. Transaction.
I love hockey. I’ve always been a fan, but watching Benson play is a whole other experience. It’s so easy for him, and as an athlete myself, I appreciate how at home he is on the ice. How obvious it is that he loves the sport and how thoroughly he enjoys playing. When I realize I’m forgetting to record him, I rush to pull out my phone and start to shoot video of him. As he skates around the goal from where he just shot, he skates toward where I sit. Our eyes lock, and when he winks, my stomach does flips more extensive than the double back I do on floor.
Within seconds, I’m knocked back in time.
Keeping my hands off Benson is becoming a real issue.
It’s so easy to touch him, though, and I desire him so much. His body feels so good under my palms, and the way my thighs squeeze his trim hips is almost as exciting as the feel of his lips on my neck. I thread my fingers up the back of his neck, curling his hair between them as he kisses and nibbles on my neck. When he trails his teeth along my jaw, I moan loudly as I squeeze his hips with my thighs. His fingers dance along the small of my back as his lips meet mine once more for a lusty kiss that has my toes curling against the grass of the quad. I’m sure anyone who sees us only sees tangled limbs, and I, for one, don’t give a shit who’s watching. I want him. Badly.
When he pulls back, his nose sliding along mine, our eyes meet, and I smile at him. I didn’t even realize his alarm was sounding because my heart was pounding so loudly in my ear. “I gotta go,” he mutters against my lips. “I don’t want to, though.”
I clasp my fingers behind his neck. “I don’t either.”
He kisses my top lip. “Come by Sunday, when I get back?”
I kiss his top lip back and nod. “Okay.”
He takes me under my arms and lifts me with ease so I can stand. Not letting go of his hands, I pull him up until we’re toe-to-toe with each other. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me to him as I press my hands into his chest. I look up at him and realize I’m gonna miss him while he’s on his road trip. I want to tell him that, but that sentiment seems a little out of line for what we are.
Friends. Who hook up. A lot.
He captures my jaw, rubbing it between his forefinger and thumb before drawing my lips up for a long, deep kiss. I fall into his body as he wraps his arm around me tighter, and every inch of his body burns into me. When he pulls back, our eyes lock, and he swallows as I draw in a deep breath.
We’ve been doing this song and dance for a little over four months, and I wonder if we’re going to make it official. Neither of us brings it up, becoming exclusive, but I blame that on both of us being busy with school and sports. I wouldn’t mind, though; I may give off the vibe that I want nothing to do with a relationship, but that’s to protect my heart. I tend to fall hard for guys, and then I’m left in their dust. Add in the fact that gymnastics means more than dick, and I don’t chance getting involved with anyone. Because of how busy I am. Not because I don’t dig him. I do. A lot. It’s just, we both are going in different directions this summer. He’s going back home; I’m going to be traveling to different gymnastics gyms to help Coach. It’s all a bit complicated.