Hot Puck, A Rough Riders Hockey Novel

Eden hadn’t felt this playful or free with a guy since she’d been in high school. High school, when nothing mattered but self-discovery and figuring out what life was all about. And as Beckett’s dark eyes latched on to hers while his hand slid up her inner thigh, Eden realized that was really what this stage of her life was about—discovering who she was now, after everything that had happened, after how far she’d come.

The fiery look in Beckett’s eyes told Eden she was still attractive, still sexy, still desirable. And she hadn’t felt wanted, or even worthy of being wanted, in so long, she’d forgotten what it felt like. Beckett was damn good at reminding her it felt downright intoxicating.

His touch left a wake of tingles along her thigh, and by the time his fingers neared her panties, she was swollen and damp and throbbing. Her sex clenched, preparing for a heavy hand. But Beckett’s fingers barely touched her as they brushed past and traced the lace band low on her belly.

“Put your arm around me.” His murmur drew Eden’s gaze from his mouth to his eyes. “It’ll give us more privacy.”

Her awareness instantly widened to the dim space around them, to the other customers in the bar, to the waitresses wandering between tables. It was crowded and dark, and everyone was in their own world. The waitresses were working too hard to take time to notice them. And she and Beckett weren’t the only couple cuddling up in dark corners.

Eden leaned closer, reached across his body, fisted her hand in the fabric of his jacket, and brushed a kiss across his lips.

He met the touch just as gently, eyes heavy lidded and staring into hers while his fingers explored the fabric of her panties without taking or grabbing. “Lace and satin?” His words sounded like a heavy purr. “What color?”

The throb between her legs intensified to an uncomfortable ache. “Guess.”

The corner of his mouth tipped up in a smile. “I think it would depend on your mood.”

“What do you mean?”

“The night I met you, I think you’d have been wearing black—kick-ass-and-take-names, all business. Tonight, you seem like more of a hot-pink type of woman.”

She grinned and pulled his lower lip between hers for a moment. “Which do you prefer?”

“Both.”

“Are you really that easy to please?”

“Not usually, but you seem to be able to please me in all sorts of unexpected ways.” He leaned his forehead against hers, then tilted his head and kissed her temple. “Does your bra match?”

His whisper feathered warmth over her skin and made her eyes flutter closed. She moaned softly, lifting her hips. “What do you think?”

“I think it does. You know what else I think?”

“Hmm?”

“I think you’re wet.”

A flicker of embarrassment heated her face, and she let out a soft laugh. She was really glad she’d had those drinks now. She wouldn’t have been able to battle her anxiety over taking this step on her own, and she’d really needed to take this step. Really needed to feel beautiful and wanted again.

“Are you wet for me, Eden?” he asked, his voice a rough, sexy whisper that made her throat tight.

Her pussy surged at his words. “I’m so wet, I ache.”

He kissed her beneath her ear. “Do you want me to slide my hand between your legs and feel how wet you are?”

“Yes.” The word whispered from her lips, and panic immediately followed. She opened her eyes to check their surroundings again and found his hot gaze staring back at her.

“It’s all right,” he murmured. “No one’s paying any attention to us.”

He held her gaze as his fingertips slipped beneath the edge of her panties, and his hand—his big, warm, and rough hand—ever so gently pressed between her thighs. Deep between her thighs. Until his palm rested over her mound and his long fingers slid over her opening.

Beckett let out a long, quiet moan, and his eyes fluttered closed with an expression of such bliss, he pulled Eden that direction too. Her body tingled with anticipation. Her lips parted, but her throat tightened, and no sound emerged.

The feel of a man’s hand on her, this man’s hand on her, in the middle of a crowded bar, yet in secret, was so many things at once, she couldn’t define them all. Naughty. Decadent. Thrilling. And the way he opened his eyes and held her gaze added an intensely intimate element that made her feel both exposed and safe at the same time.

“Fuck…” he whispered. “You’re so soft.” Then his fingers stroked, and she gasped at the erotic sensation. A low laugh rolled through his throat, the sound more wicked than humorous. “And so wet.”

Her breath whooshed out on a shaky sound.

“Do you like me touching you?” he asked.

“God, yes.”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this since we met. And it’s even better than I imagined. Have you thought of me, Eden?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

His fingers slid over her again, and Eden’s breath caught.

“Focus, Eden. Tell me what you thought about me.”

“I…thought about kissing you.” He continued to stroke her, slowly, intimately, moving a little deeper with each pass. Damn, she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. “About…undressing you. Touching you. Tasting you. Fucking you.”

She didn’t even know what she was saying. His fingers created tingles and pressure and heat that made Eden rabid.

“What about going down on you?” he asked in a rough whisper. “Did you imagine my mouth on you, my tongue inside you?” His eyes fell closed in a look of pure pleasure. His jaw tightened, and his nostrils flared. The sight shot fire through Eden’s veins. “Mmm, because if we were alone, I’d wrap your thighs around my head and eat you until you begged for relief.”

“Holy shit…” she breathed. “Beck…”

She was too breathless to finish his name. How in the hell had he taken her to the edge of orgasm in, what? Five minutes? Ten minutes? With nothing but dirty talk and touching? His fingers pushed inside, just a little, but he stretched her, and the burn was deliciously breathtaking.

“God…” Her body coiled tighter and tighter. Pleasure spiraled higher and higher.

“Tell me what you want, Eden. I’ll deliver.”

She was overwhelmed with desire. The kind that made her forget everything else. The kind that made people stupid. The kind she hadn’t felt in so long, she hadn’t believed herself capable of feeling it ever again.

“I don’t… I can’t… Never felt anything so good.”

“You haven’t felt my mouth on you yet. You haven’t felt me filling you yet. You haven’t felt me driving into you yet. You haven’t felt me making you come over and over and over yet.”

Unable to find or form words, Eden whimpered.

“There are so many amazing things I want to make you feel.”

“Yes,” was all she managed to breathe. “God, yes.” She was using all her willpower to keep herself still. She was already light years beyond her comfort zone. She’d never even considered doing anything this wild. “Where?”

“I think we should start right here.” He lifted his head, pressed his forehead to hers, and murmured, “You’re so close, it wouldn’t take but another minute to send you into the clouds. Then you can cross ‘finger fucked to perfection in a crowded bar’ off your bucket list.”

When a half laugh stuttered out of her, Beckett leaned in and kissed her, long and slow. His fingers pushed deep. Pressure spread through Eden’s pussy. Pleasure tightened her stomach. Then he adjusted and pushed even deeper, until his hand pressed against her body and his thumb lay over her clit. A sound rolled from Eden’s throat into Beckett’s mouth. A sound of wild erotic pleasure.

As Beckett continued to kiss her with the mastery of Casanova, his fingers moved against the front wall of her pussy, and his thumb rubbed her clit. One move might have led her slowly to the edge of orgasm and tipped her over, but both, while he fucked her mouth with his, completely swamped her with more sensation, more pleasure, more excitement than she’d ever known. And all Eden could do was hold on to him and hope like hell she didn’t completely shame herself in public. But this pleasure was so intense and so essential in the moment, she didn’t even care enough to worry about it.

When Eden broke their kiss to catch her breath, Beckett slipped his other hand beneath her hair, pulled her head to his shoulder and her face to his neck. She needed to lift and rock and writhe, but Beckett’s forearm determinedly held her still while he delivered the slowest, deepest, most minimal fingering Eden had ever known. One she would never have guessed could have delivered such all-encompassing pleasure.

“Beckett…” She panted, her mind fragmented. “Please…”

“Does it feel good?” he murmured at her ear, his free hand clasped on the back of her neck in a possessive, controlling gesture that, strangely, didn’t bother her. “Do you like my fingers inside you?”

She choked out a sound. “Beckett…”

She was so close, floating out of orgasm range where all she could think about was reaching the peak, opening up, and receiving that lightning bolt of ecstasy. It had been so long. And she was so hungry.

“I love hearing my name in that breathy voice,” he murmured. “I can’t wait to hear you when you’re grinding against my mouth. When my cock is filling you. When I’m pounding inside you.”

The erotic images he created in her head only drove her higher, faster. “Beck…”

“I want to see you in bed, naked, sweating, panting, begging,” he rasped in her ear, “free to writhe and scream.”

She whimpered. “Need to come…”

“Patience.” He smoothed his hand over her hair, and closed it on the back of her neck again. “There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours as long as you want me tonight. And tonight is all about you, Eden. Let go. Relax. This is only the pleasure I can deliver with the tips of my fingers. There’s so much more waiting for you.”

The awesomeness of his generosity seemed unreal, even in Eden’s altered state. But she’d have to think about that later, because she was floating on a plateau beyond the reach of the release she’d grown rabid for.

“You’re so ready,” he growled in her ear, then added pressure somewhere inside her that pushed her that last step toward the cliff edge.

“Ah…”

And he pushed her again.

Before she got a sound out, Beckett pulled her face into his neck. The orgasm slammed through her in one hard quake, turning all her muscles rigid and shooting intense electrical pulses of pleasure over every nerve. Her cries came muffled against his skin. Lights burst against her closed lids. And shiver after shiver rocked through her, each leaving her a little more spent than the one before.

In Beckett’s safe hold, the release probably appeared controlled and subdued, more like an emotional meltdown than the orgasm of the decade. But inside, every cell of her body swelled with light before popping and spilling ecstasy through her until she finally settled into a feathery lightness that felt a lot like pure joy.