Donovan (Face-Off 3)

Sydney is so hot and intimidating I’m afraid to go near her. This situation reminds me of when I was in high school, and the boys and girls sectioned themselves off in the gymnasium at dances, staring at each other from across the room. She locks eyes with me, like a predator sizing me up. Since I entered the NHL, girls have come to me. I’ve been kind of lazy because of the attention I get without even trying.

What if she starts talking about monster cocks again? That was weird but hot. I wouldn’t mind if it were my cock she was talking about. What I would do or say for one night with Sydney. I can already see her full lips parting for me, trying not to dwell on it too long.

Sydney pats the space next to her on the couch, smacking her lips at me. “Come here, big guy. Tell me all your secrets.”

I cringe at the thought and walk toward her with caution. Without Tyler and Kennedy here as a buffer, I can’t count on Coach and Alex to help me out when they’re too busy sucking face. Just the mention of secrets has me on edge.

“I don’t have anything to tell,” I say, taking a seat next to her, annoyed by her name for me. I had enough shitty nicknames as a kid.

“Of course you do. Everyone has secrets.” Sydney leans over and presses her lips to my ear, sending a tremor straight to my balls.

Please don’t get hard, I tell myself, trying to think of something other than her giant rack as she rubs her breasts on my arm.

“You share yours, and I’ll share mine,” she whispers, sucking on my earlobe. “I like games. We can have a lot of fun.”

What the hell is happening right now? She blew me off when she first walked into the house, and now she’s teasing me and licking my ear. This woman is the devil.

Are we talking about secrets or body parts? I have no fucking idea, and I don’t care. The urge to take her over my shoulder and into one of Tyler’s many spare bedrooms crosses my mind. I think she’d be down for it. Or at least I hope. Time to man-up and find out.

Chapter 2

Sydney

Where in the fuckety fuck is Carter Donovan’s sexy as fuck beard?

Damn him for shaving that off before our date. I am so pissed now that I want to mess with him the rest of the night just for the hell of it. I blew past him when I walked into the house, acted as if I had not seen him. But Carter is hard to miss. He reminds me of The Incredible Hulk with his large frame, those strong shoulders and arms, the muscle ripped down to his thighs.

My God, he is hot as puck. This man does things between my legs without even touching me. Leaning over him on the couch, I cannot stop myself from staring down, wondering if his package matches the rest of him. I sure hope so because he turns me on just by sitting next to me. I tease him when I press my lips to his ear, asking him to spill his secrets.

Tugging at his earlobe with my teeth, I suck on his ear, breathing heavy against his skin. He stills for a few seconds and draws in some air, holding it far too long before he lets it out.

“Do I make you hard, Carter,” I whisper when he doesn’t react to my first statement about sharing our secrets. “Do you want to shove your big, fat cock inside me?”

I have to admit I enjoy this more than I should.

He turns his head just enough so our eyes meet. “Keep talking like that, Princess, and I’m going to bend you over this couch and fuck you in front of everyone.”

His voice is so deep and manly I close my eyes and imagine him doing what he promised. A challenge. I like it. Apparently, this could work between us.

Most of the time, I do things like this to test men and their limits. The pussies usually back off right away, where the real men follow Carter’s lead and show me what they have to offer.

I run my fingers along his arm, feeling down his body, stopping when I reach his thigh. It’s as if his legs are chiseled from stone. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Oh, yeah.” He pulls me into his arms so that I fall helplessly like a ragdoll onto his lap. “Don’t dare me to do something you can’t follow through on. Because I will spread you out and fuck you senseless.”

“That’s fucking hot. You sure know how to treat a lady.” A tiny moan escapes my mouth. Combined with the hockey game playing over the loud speakers and the couple next to us devouring each other, no one notices. Not that I would care if they heard us. I write far worse things in my romance books.

The house is full of deviants, with my best friend upstairs fucking Tyler, and Coach and Alex two seconds away from joining them, not even paying attention to the game everyone came here to watch. This is my kind of crowd. I could care less about hockey or any sport for that matter. But when it comes to sex—my favorite sport—I am all-in. And Carter is game.

I sit up, holding onto his shoulder for support. He’s so thick I couldn’t move him if I tried. Loving the way his muscles feel beneath my fingers, I trace the outline of his tattoos. Some have color, but most are black ink.

“I like your tats,” I tell him. “Do they have any meaning behind them?”

“Yeah, they do.” He leaves it at that, which makes me want to learn more about him and the sleeves of ink marking his body.

I run my fingers through his dark hair, pressing my chest into his arm. “That’s all you’re going to give me, big guy?”

“Stop calling me that,” he says, annoyed, staring down at my cleavage. The girls are out and on display for him tonight. Maybe I can coax him into doing what I want by giving him a sneak preview.