Rookie (Seattle Sharks 4)

Safe and dangerous.

Lightning and a soothing stream.

Fire and ice.

I pumped and sucked and lost myself in this man.

The one I’d missed for so long my soul awoke in his presence.

I moved my hands to his ass, gripping it, guiding him deeper.

“Fuck, Chloe.”

I hummed and his responding shudder made my thighs tremble.

A low growl rumbled from his chest, his fingers tightening in my hair.

Yes, I wanted to say but couldn’t because my mouth was filled with him.

And I wanted more.

So much more.

I wanted to consume him.

To suck and kiss and sigh until all the darkness of our pasts were erased.

Until he was nothing more than mine, because I was always his.

“Do you want it?” he asked, again reminding me of how damn amazing he was.

Always my choice. My decision.

I held on tighter, relaxing my throat to let him slide deeper.

“Fucking hell,” he hissed and then I felt him harden another degree.

A groan, and he’d unleashed himself. I took it all, swallowing and moaning, relishing the power, the gift, the ability to—for just a moment—lay claim to this man.

Gently, I backed away, and wiped at my face, at the tears in the corners of my eyes.

I didn’t get two breaths in before he’d hooked his arms under my ass and spun me, setting me on the kitchen island.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said, his tone laced with a primal edge that turned me into a puddle.

“I’ve been thinking about that since the first day I saw you in the locker room.”

“Perfect woman,” he said, claiming my mouth again as he scooted me to the edge of the island. “My turn.” He broke our kiss, gently nudging me until my back was on the cool marble countertop.

His fingers hooked into the band of my leggings, and he slipped them off, leaving my pumps on.

“Silk,” he growled, teasing his fingers over the fabric. “You little vixen.” He caught my gaze as he towered over me. “You knew this was going to happen.”

“I did not!” I’d deny it to the teeth.

I was smarter than this.

I was a professional.

I knew better—

“Oh!” I arched off the counter when his mouth set over the silk covering me. The heat from his breath and pressure from his lips tightening the swirl of tension inside me.

“Beautiful.” He tugged the slip of fabric over my ankles. He swiped his tongue between my thighs, and a moan escaped my lips. “Delicious. I’ve missed this. Missed you.” He murmured the words against me, the vibrations rocking in my core. “You’re so wet, baby,” he teased. “Is it that easy for you?”

“You,” I said, breathless. “It’s you.”

“Is that right?” He caught my eye again, and in that moment, time stopped.

He was Bentley and I was Chloe and we’d never been apart.

That confident tease in his eyes had always been for me.

And me, splayed before him like a feast, had always been for him.

“Let me sort you out,” he said, and the words were enough to make me moan.

The man, his tongue, good God it was magic.

He lapped and sucked and swirled and teased.

I panted and arched and tried to find a grip on the earth when I felt like I was orbiting.

His moans only pushed me closer to the edge, and then he slid a finger inside me, then two, pumping as he licked me.

“Bentley,” I said, moaning, gasping, damn near crying I was so wound up.

So wrapped up in him.

In us.

In all the things I wanted and knew I couldn’t have.

“Say it again,” he said against me, his voice guttural.

“Bentley.” I arched into his fingers.

“Greedy,” he said, the tease shaking my core.

“Bent!” I screamed, and he set his lips over that small bundle of nerves, the touch centering my entire being to that touch.

Then he sucked.

And I burst into a thousand pieces.

Arching high off the counter, he clung to me while I fell apart.

Kept me steady as I rocketed.

My anchor when I was certain I’d fly away.

Slowly, agonizingly, he kissed and licked me, bringing me back to earth in the sweetest, most tender way.

And when I could finally open my eyes, when I could finally see straight . . .

I only saw him.

And I knew in that moment—charged and relaxed and so, so hungry—that one night would never be enough.

Not even close.

Chapter 10

Bentley

I felt the weight of Chloe’s sleeping body before I opened my eyes.

Last night came crashing back—the sound of my name on her lips, the way she’d let me make love to her mouth, how she’d tasted, slick and hot, when I returned the favor.

After, I’d scooped her up, cradling her to my chest as I carried her to my bed. We’d whispered and laughed and lazily touched, but I didn’t try to fuck her.

Not after what we’d just given each other—such a huge step, one we both knew could burn us to the ground.

The conversations, whispered dreams as I held her, it was almost more intimate than if I’d tried to bury myself between her thighs.

And fuck me, I wanted to.

But there was something about holding her in my arms as she wore nothing but one of my oversize t-shirts. Something that suspended time—allowing us to be both then and now.

Slowly, I opened my eyes, almost terrified that when I did, it wouldn’t be Chloe in my arms, but some random puck bunny who knew my terms—one night, no strings, all consensual fun and respect and then we go our separate ways. I’d transformed many of them into Chloe before, and while they never knew and it wasn’t fair to them, I couldn’t help it. The girl had owned my soul since before I could remember.

A breath loosed from my lungs at the sight of her sprawled on my chest. Her sleek black hair slightly mussed around her face, her eyes heavily closed in her deep sleep. My white shirt bunched around her hips, one of those gorgeous legs draped over mine, her silk panties exposing the bottom of her perfect ass.

Mornings were often welcomed with my dick hard as a rock, but now?

Fuck, it hurt.

Ached.

Begged to kiss her awake and sink so deep in her we’d forget the risk and just be us for a few stolen hours.

Didn’t we do that last night?

Not enough.

Never enough.

Fuck.

I’d asked for one night.

After she’d told me the horrible truth about why she didn’t come with me.

Her mom.

God damn, this girl.

She’d known.

She hadn’t been wrong. I would’ve stayed with her, supported her, helped her family in any way I could’ve. Because they were my family too, in a way, since I’d loved her my entire life.

But she’d sacrificed our relationship so I could become the hot shot hockey star I’d always dreamed of.

The pain in her eyes, in her voice—it had broken me.

She may have ripped out my heart, but she’d shredded hers in the process, too.

My heart beats for yours.

I gazed down at her, my eyes drinking her in, my body throbbing with the pleasure of having her this close. I could still taste her in my mouth and I wanted more.

So much more.

But we were already risking too much.

If anyone caught her here—the paparazzi, a teammate, anyone—that would be it for our careers.

And now I understood why she so desperately needed this contract.

To take care of her mother after her dad left.

I repressed a growl—we’d never gotten along. He’d never

approved of me and now I couldn’t care less what he thought. Leaving his family out to dry like that, fuck him.

Smoothing some hair off her cheek, I shifted ever so gently, not wanting to wake her. She readjusted herself as I slipped out from under her, but stayed asleep.

So heavy, almost like she hadn’t slept in years.