The Bad Boy Hockey Collection: A Collection Of Single Daddy Romances

“Oh, I can think of many, many reasons,” he advises, trailing his lips down across the side of my face, to my throat, then collarbone. “That’s why you should let me apologize to you the best way I know how to convey how sorry I really am, and how fucking much I want you in my life.”

“Mmm.” I’m already lost, too consumed by the damp heat of his breath on my sensitive flesh to give a damn why we fought in the first place. “Something tells me I might like where this is going.” I tilt my head, giving him more access to my neck.

“You will,” he growls between soft kisses. “I promise.”

Another moan escapes my lips as he nips lightly at me, and I pull back to stare into his eyes. “Don’t promise me,” I whisper. “Show me.”

Craig’s gaze bores into mine, hot and blazing. Then he steps away from me, scanning the room. He crosses the office and flips both locks on the door, the one that can be unlocked from the outside as well as the deadbolt, into place and turns the overhead lights off.

“I can’t wait to have you,” he whispers hoarsely once he makes it back across the room, in three long strides. He pushes me back onto my desk, pressing the entire length of his firm body against mine.

“Then don’t,” I say just as huskily. “But not here.” He’s already kissing along the side of my neck again, making my breath come out in long pants. “Around the corner. The meeting room.”

Craig lifts his head, his gaze following the direction my hand is pointing unsteadily. Determined, he plucks me up into his arms as though I’m weightless, carrying me into the meeting room. It’s small, and it’s cramped, boasting only a banged-up table and six chairs, but it’ll save us from any prying eyes that, on the off chance, might see us through the main office windows.

The moment he sets me on the tabletop, we’re pulling at each other’s clothes with jerky, desperate movements. I manage to push his plaid shirt from his shoulders then peel his t-shirt over his head in record time, needing to feel the taut, contoured muscles of his chest under my fingertips.

Craig helps me remove my blazer and silk top quickly, too, his mouth kissing and licking my throat and collarbone as he wastes no time in finding the button on my dress pants and undoing it.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, sliding his hands under the open waistband of both my pants and panties. “And mine,” he adds, almost inaudible. “Please fucking say you’re mine, Meg.”

I push on the table with my hands, lifting my hips up to allow him the room needed to slide my pants and underwear down over my hips. The insatiable, furious need for him racing through me is consuming, unquenchable, and I stare up at him with large, emotion-filled eyes. “I’m yours,” I whisper.

The smoldering fire in Craig’s eyes ignites, and all trace of measured control leaves him, replaced by fevered movements and urgent kisses that devour my resolve and leave me begging for him to be deep inside me.

Our hands scramble and fumble with his jeans, undoing them and pushing them down to reveal his long, rigid cock. I open my legs in the same moment he pushes my knees apart to step between them, stroking his erection as he curses to himself and has to shuffle through our mess of clothes to find the condom in his wallet. He rolls it on, flustered, and positions himself against my entrance, the slick evidence of my arousal obvious a second later when he sinks into me with ease.

My head tilts back, a low, guttural moan escaping my lips as his cock fills me completely. Every muscle inside me is tight, clenching around him as he slides in and out of me. There are no words needed, and if they could be uttered they’d never stand a chance at describing the absolute euphoria I feel at being consumed by Craig Connelly, his delicious body, and his sexy mind.

I’m his, I think as he thrusts into me faster, my thighs gripping his hips tightly. The thought is followed a moment later by, And he’s mine.

I know then that Craig and I have something more here than a physical connection. Like everyone, we’ve been through things that have shaped us and molded us into who we are, good or bad. But even though we’re broken and battered by life and everything it throws at us, we’re still here, still fighting, and still surviving.

And, now, we can fight together.

“Oh God, Craig.” I moan his name, feeling the buildup of sensual pressure in the deepest parts of my core as he plunges into me. “Craig...”

“It’s okay, Meg,” he grunts out against my ear, letting his tongue flick out and touch my earlobe. “Let it go, baby. Let it go.”

His tongue sends a shiver of decadent electricity shooting through me, and I reach out with one hand to guide his hip thrusts harder and faster against me, my other hand pressed on the table behind me, steadying me as I take everything he gives.

He’s panting loudly with each crash of our hips, and I’m gasping for air as the heady combination of pleasure and pain forces me closer to coming apart completely. The moment I realize there’s no turning back, that I’m about to careen off the cliff into blissful release, Craig lets out a low, animalistic groan.

“Oh, Jesus, Meg!”

Every muscle in his body clenches and constricts violently, and Craig’s mouth devours mine, muffling the cries of passion that emit from our throats as the thunderous wave of release overtakes us both, drowning us in our own physical connection.

“Jesus Christ, Megan, you are—”

“Yours,” I finish for him, seeing how hard it is for him to get the words out as he attempts to catch his breath. He grins at my answer, a boyish smirk edged with amusement...and tenderness. “You’re also a liar,” I add jokingly, pursing my lips to suppress my smile.

“What? Why?” he laughs, his eyebrow arched, still beaded with sweat.

I stare into his gorgeous chocolate eyes. “You said our next time would be in a bed,” I chuckle. “This is far from it.”

“Well, shit, I guess you’re right.” He ducks his head and kisses me, a long, passionate kiss that reminds me of the gentleness this man also possesses when he’s not completely lost in a flurry of lust. “Good thing I plan on having plenty of time to make that up to you, too.”

Epilogue