7
Liam
My heart crashes against my tight chest as I carry her upstairs, and it’s strange that I feel like a teen about to lose his damn virginity. I’ve been with numerous women over the years, most times after partying and consuming copious amounts of alcohol. After all, I wanted to present the Rule Breaker, the guy the girl of the night wanted between the sheets. Most times, the only way I can draw out that obnoxious guy is to have a drink or four. It usually takes me a full day to recover and gather my energy through alone time. It’s not easy being an introvert living in an extroverted world where fans have certain expectations. Maybe the reason why I never brought a woman to my home, to my own bed, was because I needed her gone by morning, so I could recuperate in quiet.
This time, however, I don’t know, but it’s different. I like this sweet girl who doesn’t watch hockey, doesn’t expect my on-ice or on-camera antics. She likes the guy beneath the jersey—at least physically.
We enter my room, and she gives a little yelp when I kick the door closed behind me. My cock throbs against my zipper, and while I’d like to ravish her, I won’t. She’s a goddamn treasure who should be treated with respect and care and I want to take my time with her, give her what she needs, and if I’m being truly honest, I’m excited to be with a girl like her, one who isn’t just out to put a notch on her headboard. Yeah, guys don’t just do that, puck bunnies do too, and she’s anything but a girl wanting to sleep with a professional hockey player for the bragging rights.
Another thought hits. Is it possible that I’m after the chase, wanting a girl who isn’t throwing herself at me, a girl who isn’t using me for her own personal advancement, or am I intrigued because what we’re doing here is taboo, considering I’m her son’s big brother? Was there something in the fine print about conflict of interest? Jesus, I can’t remember, but I know one thing. Wanting her has nothing to do with any of that, and my pull to her is completely unexplainable, so I’m not even going to try. No, I’m just going to give her, and myself, a night to remember.
I set her on the bed, making sure to keep her weight off her sore foot, and stand back to drink her in. My gaze roams her flushed face, and I love that she’s not sitting there all coy, her tits out, in a dress barely covering her ass. I really like this girl, and that should scare me more than it does.
I drop down to my knees and shimmy closer, and her little breath falls over my face as she exhales quickly. I can practically hear the pounding of her heart beneath the layers of clothes.
“I need to see you,” I say, never so needy in my damn life.
She nods, and I grip the hem of my shirt, still on her body. She lifts her hands for me, and I peel it over her head, to expose her cleavage, which is rising and falling rapidly as she takes fast shallow breaths. I love that she wants this as much as I do. She wets her lips and I groan. My God, how many times have I thought about taking her mouth with mine, devouring her until she’s delirious with want and I can no longer see straight?
Wait, is it possible that I have this too built up in my head, that she can’t possibly live up to the fantasy that’s been on repeat in my brain, or will this girl rock my world like no other? I’m leaning toward the latter.
“Liam,” she says quietly, almost a whisper, as her hand touches my face, cups it gently. I lean into her warmth, her gentle touch tugging at something deep inside me. Something fierce, and foreign.
I push the word “Yeah,” past my tight throat.
“I want…I…”
Clearly she’s not a woman who has an easy time asking for what she wants, but tonight, that all changes. “Whatever you want, Harper, I’ll give you. Don’t ever feel shy, or embarrassed to ask. Not with me.” If we only have this night, I want honesty with her. Nothing less. “I want to make this good for you.” She frowns, and I touch her chin, lift it until her eyes are on mine. “What?”
“I know you’ve been with a lot of women, and I don’t really act or look—”
“Let me stop you right there. You’re right. I’ve been with a lot of women, and none of them were like you, Harper. None of them. If you’re worried I’m not going to like this, or you’re not going to make it good for me, or live up to those other women, you are dead wrong. The biggest thing you have to worry about is me liking it too much, and wanting more again tomorrow.” The worry in her eyes fade, making room for lust and want. “That’s better,” I say, and I’m about to ask her what she wants, when she speaks.
“Kiss me, please.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I put my hands on her face, and ever so slowly lean into her until our lips touch and I swear to fuck, her little sigh, combined with the sweetness of her mouth, the softness of her lips, takes me to the ground like I’d just been body-checked. I almost stop, needing a moment of reprieve, to regroup, realign myself and shake off the shockwaves, but I can’t bring myself
