I can still hear my phone vibrating, but instead of answering it, I move my hand along her skin. I grip her ass as I run my tongue along the curve of her breasts, and a soft moan leaves her sweet lips. Her head is above mine on the pillow, so I can’t see her face, and her hair is wild around us. It’s so long, so dark with streaks of blond. I don’t know where that wig went, but I’m glad it isn’t her real hair. I like the brown better. I just wish I had gotten a good look at her face.
We went at it all night in the dark, and I regret that. I wish I had turned on the lights. I want to look at her, admire her. I was pretty far gone last night. With the NHL All-Star break, I’m able to let loose, have some fun. It’s the first time I regret not being sober when I had sex. I feel like I didn’t give her all that I could, but she seems pretty satisfied.
Fuck, I know I am.
I wonder if I can convince her not to leave. To stay for the day. I don’t have anything to do, and I wouldn’t mind rounds six and seven with her. Maybe make it to round ten. I owe Chris for this one. He never disappoints. He brings me some really great girls who keep quiet about our time together, but he went above and beyond with her. As much as I hate depending on someone else to get me a girl, I can’t trust myself to pick them. Seems every girl I find and fuck tries to screw me over. Wants me to fall in love, take my money, and make me theirs. When I refuse, they come up with some bullshit story and go to the media. I love to fuck, don’t get me wrong, but I always make sure to respect the girl. I don’t do anything they don’t want to do, yet I’ve been pegged as some kind of womanizer. Hence the reason I have to depend on a friend to bring me someone to fuck. I refuse to allow another woman to make more fucked-up allegations. I refuse to embarrass my mom and dad any more than I already have.
I don’t know why I’m thinking of that when I have this spectacular beauty in my arms. I kiss the side of her boob and then her ribs. Just as I’m about to run my tongue across her ribs, I notice her ink. I pull my brows together when I realize it’s the Nashville Assassins logo. The Assassin with the skyline of Nashville on his shoulders. It’s the old-school logo, the one my dad wore for most of his career. I’m a bit taken aback by it. Usually, the girls I get hooked up with are Rangers fans or don’t know a stick from a puck, but she must be an Assassins fan. It’s actually kind of cool since Nashville is my hometown and I watched my dad play for them almost my whole life. His jersey hangs in the rafters of the Luther Arena. I have always dreamed of playing there professionally, but it hasn’t happened yet.
One day.
I kiss that spot on her body as the sun shines in on us. Just as I’m about to wake her to ask her about it, my phone starts to go off again.
“Is that your phone?”
I kiss the underside of her boob. “Yeah, ignore it.”
“What time is it?” she asks, her voice raspy and sexy.
“I don’t know. Don’t care. Please don’t move.”
She ignores me, and when she reaches over me, I suck her nipple into my mouth. The breathy giggle that leaves her lips awakens my cock in seconds. “Shit, it’s nine. I’ve got to go. And it’s your agent.”
She drops my phone on my chest as she untangles herself from me.
“He can wait. Where are you going?”
She moves quickly through the room, picking up her clothes. Her hair is still in her face, and I want to brush it aside so I can see her features. I go to get up, but she holds up her hand. “Don’t. If you get up and come anywhere near me, I won’t go. And I gotta go.”
My mouth goes dry as I watch her dress quickly. Her body is a wonderland, and I am nowhere near done with her. As she pulls her hair up into a big messy bun, I say, “But I don’t want you to.”
She shakes her head. “I have to.” When her eyes meet mine, I cock my head. She blows her hair out of her face and sends me a sweet grin. “I had fun.”
I blink a few times because there is something familiar about her. “I did too. Please stay.”