Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 139259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
I shrug, leaning casually against the wall. Or, at the very least, trying to look casual while it’s blatantly obvious I came in here for her. I am regretting all my life choices at this very minute.
“Needed a break and wanted to check-in. Looked like you were working hard.”
She narrows her eyes. “The coaching staff isn’t here. What exactly are you checking on?”
“You,” I say simply. She hasn’t been herself lately. With every failed lawyer, I can feel her getting more and more anxious.
Her mouth opens like she’s about to respond, but no words come out. Her cheeks start to flush. It’s adorable how flustered she gets. She pulls her gaze away from me and looks back at her tablet, clearly trying to compose herself.
No one is buying the act, Hex. Just admit you’re excited to see me.
“I’m fine,” she says after a moment, but her voice is tight.
“Yeah, I can see that. You’re working so hard up here. Really breaking a sweat.”
“Someone has to.” Her eyes are still on the screen, refusing to look at me. It’s cute. It’s as though she thinks I’ll stop bothering her if she continues to ignore me.
Spoiler alert: It won’t work.
I take a step closer, folding my arms. “Admit it. You just like watching me skate.”
That makes her look up. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” I taunt. “You’re up here, watching me. And you’re not even subtle about it.”
“I’m working.” She sits up straighter. “Not everything revolves around you, Hudson.”
“Sure, it does.” I take another step closer. “So, what’s on the tablet? Practice stats?” I challenge. “Notes on my incredible performance today?”
Her lips press into a thin line, and she angles the screen away from me. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yet,” I say, leaning against the table beside her, “you’re still here.”
She rolls her eyes but can’t fight the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Don’t you have something better to do? Like chasing pucks or falling on your face?”
“Funny,” I say, tilting my head. “You didn’t mention anything about me falling on my face. In Vegas.”
Her eyes widen, and her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink. “Don’t you dare.”
I grin. “Don’t I dare what? Remind you of the Elvis vows? Or the fact that you were a willing participant?”
“Hudson.” She glances toward the glass window, most likely worried that someone might hear us. “We agreed not to talk about this in public.”
“We’re alone.” I move in closer. “And I’m just saying, I think Elvis would be proud of us right now.”
She groans, covering her face with her hands. “Why are you like this?”
“Charming? Irresistible? Devastatingly handsome?” I offer.
“Infuriating,” she mumbles through her fingers.
I reach out, placing my hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Hex. Admit it. You like me. Just a little.”
She reaches out, removing my hand. “You’re insufferable.”
“Which is basically the same as lovable,” I point out.
She shakes her head, but her lip twitches. “You’re impossible.”
“Yet”—I lean close, my lips practically touching hers—“you married me.”
Her breath catches, most likely trying to decide whether to punch me or kiss me.
“Hudson.” Her voice catches me off guard.
“Yeah?” I raise an eyebrow.
“You need to go back to practice before Mason comes up here looking for you.”
I shake my head. “He won’t.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because he’s too busy perfecting his drunk toddler move,” I say, grinning.
Molly laughs, the sound light and unexpected, and everything else fades.
It’s just us in this stupid little box, and I don’t want to be anywhere else.
“You’re impossible.” She shakes her head.
“You already said that. Plus, it doesn’t matter. You’re stuck with me.”
She inches her head back, the space between us growing. I don’t like it and will need to remedy that. “For now.”
“For now”—I reach my hand out, cradling her jaw—“but I don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind either,” she whispers, and just like that, I know I’m screwed.
With that settled, I pounce, pushing her back until she leans on her elbows, that way no one can see us, and then I make quick work of dropping down to the floor in front of her.
“What are you doing?” Her eyes are wide, full of shock.
My lips spread into a giant grin. “Tasting my wife.”
I think she’s going to say no, but instead, she shivers at my words.
Never an objection.
She lifts her ass, giving me ample space to remove her underwear.
Once they’re off, I sit back and look at what’s mine. Her pussy gleams back at me. Hot and wet and ready to come. Which she will, but only on my tongue today.
There’s not enough time to fuck her right. But I still need to see her fall apart.
Molly Sinclair coming is my favorite sight. Making her come . . . my favorite pastime.
I lean forward, placing my hands on her thighs to keep them spread, then lift to place a kiss on her lips. She tastes like cherries and sin.