Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Sitting around the house.
Showing up at the club and searching for Carina.
And the gut punch when I found her in that slinky silver excuse for a dress that barely covered her ass and somehow made her legs look even longer and leaner than usual.
My dick stirs to life at the mental image.
Then I drove her home.
And dared her to masturbate in front of me.
That’s the thing about Carina—she’s never been able to resist a challenge. It was always easy to steer her in the direction I wanted if I dared her to do it.
Like kiss me.
Damn right I did that a ton of times when we were in high school. I spent years tap dancing on the line without actually crossing it. Especially with my father watching like a hawk, making sure I wasn’t acting anything other than brotherly.
I glance at the blonde cuddled up against me, one leg thrown haphazardly over mine in sleep. It’s been a while since we woke up in the same bed. There was a time when Carina would sneak across the hall to my room and slip between my sheets every night. It became a habit I looked forward to. After a while, I couldn’t sleep unless she was snuggled up against me.
To wake up to her again after all these years feels more like a dream. I can’t stop staring. She’s so beautiful with her thick mass of golden blonde hair spread out on the pillow. She never bothered to put clothes on after the show she treated me to after the club.
Hottest.
Fucking.
Thing.
Ever.
And then coming on her belly…
And her sucking it off my finger.
Just thinking about it makes my dick throb.
My gaze drops to the now tented comforter at my waist.
Exactly.
This girl has always been a wet dream.
My wet dream.
No matter how much time passes, I can’t imagine that changing.
Fuck.
The thoughts circling around in my head like hungry sharks are dangerous.
If I were smart, I’d slip from the bed and sneak out of her apartment before the situation becomes any more complicated.
Although, it feels much too late for that.
“You look like you’re planning an escape.”
Her sultry voice, more roughed up in the morning, has me blinking out of those thoughts. My gaze slices to hers only to find her watching me steadily as if waiting for me to hightail it from the room.
I pop my shoulder. “You caught me. I was contemplating the possibility of gnawing off my own arm to get away.”
Instead of getting offended, she smirks. “That would certainly make hockey more of a challenge.”
“It would make a lot of things more of a challenge. Hockey’s the least of them. Once the season ends, I’ll hang up my skates.” The thought of not playing the sport I’ve loved my entire life is a bittersweet one. Normally, as soon as the notion fills my brain, I shove it away, not wanting to dwell on the eventuality of it.
Carina moves closer, stacking her hands on my chest before resting her chin on them. Her clear blue-gray eyes stay fastened to mine. She’s the only one who’s ever been able to sift through my innermost thoughts. I couldn’t keep her out even if I wanted to.
“Are you ready for that chapter of your life to be over with?”
“Does it really matter?” I shoot back. It’s much too early in the morning for such a serious conversation. One that’ll probably end up tanking my entire day.
She contemplates the question for a handful of seconds. “Of course it does. I can’t imagine not dancing. It’s part of who I am. How I express myself and deal with stress.”
I can’t imagine her not dancing either. Corny as it sounds, the girl is poetry in motion. Her body and soul were made for it. She’s able to convey so much emotion without speaking a single word.
How many people have the ability to do that?
Dance is like the very air she needs to breathe.
I’m not sure if hockey is the same for me.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the sport.
Have always loved it.
I laced up my first pair of Bauers when I was five years old. And in all the time that’s passed, I’ve never not skated. But the difference is that I always knew I wasn’t good enough to turn pro. No matter how much time and energy I poured into it. Some people have raw talent and innate ability that shines through and propels them forward.
I don’t have that spark.
My future was always going to be working alongside my father.
I came to terms with it a long time ago.
But that doesn’t mean I’m not sad that part of my life is coming to an end.
I sift my fingers through the long strands of her hair. It feels amazing to have her draped across my bare chest.
Right.
Like the tumblers of a safe finally clicking into place.