“It’s not like that, Dad. I’m taking things slow and didn’t want Mom to worry,” I say, lying through my teeth and hoping to God that he doesn’t notice.
I’m one unlucky bastard, because he doesn’t let it go. He’s going to make me late for class if he doesn’t hang up, which he won’t until he’s said his piece.
“Well, I have the perfect solution. Bring her to dinner tomorrow night if you don’t want your mother to worry so much. Give your mother that peace of mind, son,” he says casually, but I can smell the bullshit.
I love my parents, but they don’t understand a damn thing about me. That I don’t want to go into the family business and how hockey rules my life is beyond their understanding. Hell, they’ve never been to one of my games. Basically, they just sent the checks and hoped my heart would change after I got it out of my system. Not my words.
“Dad, listen. I have a game tonight and she works in the morning, so I don’t think we can make it.” I’m grasping at straws at this point, and I know this is only going to go one way.
“Great, we’ll see you both at seven sharp for dinner. Hopefully, she’s not like the last woman we met. What a disaster. Make sure you're keeping it safe, son. Wrap it up tight,” he says before disconnecting the call.
I withhold the need to bang my head against the brick building. A sigh releases from my mouth, and I stride to class with my book bag slung over my shoulder. I ignore the people staring at me, and for once, not many women try to approach me since news has spread around about Kat and I. Instagram is full of photos of us together, mainly of the kiss she gave me after practice. That went right online, and I can’t say I’m surprised. My life is already in the spotlight without even being in the pros.
Finally, I enter English class, and my eyes immediately find Kat high up in the back sitting down already. As I climb the stairs, she removes her bag from the seat next to her and tilts her head at me, like she can tell something is off about me. It’s always like diving into crystal clear water head first when she stares at me. It’s fucking refreshing as fuck and makes me feel like I can breathe, even when sinking to the bottom. She doesn’t sink into herself when I plop down next to her, if anything, she scoots closer like she can’t help herself. That pain I noticed when we first met doesn’t show as much, but it’s still lurking and it might always be there, because it defines her past but she’s more vibrant. That makes me want to pound on my chest and say I fucking did that to put that look on her. I want to keep doing that and have her kiss me with a passion that has her wanting to rip my clothes off. Obviously, I have it bad.
“You almost didn’t make it. You worried about the game tonight?” she questions, and pushes her coffee over to me with a small smile.
I like watching her naturally pink, pouty lips spread across her face, and I imagine her lips wrapped around my cock as she stares up at me with those captivating eyes. Twenty-four-seven, my cock is raging hard just being around her—okay, that’s a lie. I could just be thinking about her, and bam, my fucking cock pops up, weeping at the tip like a motherfucker at just the thought of her lips. I could say it’s because I’ve haven’t been laid in a while, but that would be another lie. It’s just her, all of her. I had to take a cold shower just this morning after walking into the living room to her stretching with her shorts riding up between her ass cheeks. Jerking off in the shower didn’t even help, because the moment I stepped out and found her in the kitchen, moaning around a mouthful of pancakes, my dick was begging me to sink into her until we found home together. Right now, she’s biting the tip of her pen as she stares at me, no doubt waiting for my answer, but fuck if I can focus.
“What? And will you stop putting that pen in your mouth? You're getting me hard, Princess, watching your perfect as fuck lips wrap around the tip.” My lips skim the shell of her ear as I whisper to her, and it helps me focus a little when her eyes pop open wide as the pen drops from her mouth. Her eyes dart right to my lap with a blush rising to her cheeks.
It’s somewhat funny to see her scrabble to pick up her pen while almost falling out of her seat. Glad to know I’m not the only one affected, because I see her breathing pick up as her breasts rise and fall faster while she squeezes her thighs together in her chair.
“You're in a mood, but it’s kind of sad to compare your dick to a pen.” She gives me a pitying look and bites her lip when I scowl at her.
“Princess, you have no idea how big my cock actually is, but I’m telling you now, you might not be able to take every single inch, but you’ll be feeling my hard, big dick digging into your stomach when I place you over my knee for giving me sass.” Each heated word draws her closer, and a small moan slips past her parted lips. Damn, she makes me horny as hell.
Our noses are almost touching, and I’m oblivious to the rest of the class as I watch her eyes turn a
