Good Boy (WAGs #1)

“Hold on, baby. This is gonna be a rough ride.”

Holy shit, he’s not kidding. His mouth captures mine in another blistering kiss, and then he’s fucking me in fast, shallow strokes. I cling to his shoulders and rock my hips, straining to get closer. The tension in my core gathers, tightens, as pleasure makes my toes curl. I can’t catch my breath, because Blake is still kissing me, and his frenzied pace doesn’t let up.

My piano teacher always said, “If you’re going to make a mistake, make it good and loud.”

I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean this kind of mistake, but I’m following her advice nonetheless as I moan into Blake’s mouth and writhe against his talented body.





Blake


It’s been a long time since anything felt so fucking good. I’m drowning in this girl and I don’t want to be saved. I keep giving it to her hard and fast, even if what I really crave is a long, slow night of it in my bed.

But she’s loving it, and I’m the kind of guy who knows not to ruin a good thing. Except it’s such a good thing that it’s ruining me. She’s wrapped so tightly around me, I never want it to end. The sweet sounds she’s making are almost as good as the clench of her pussy on my cock.

Then she sucks on my tongue, and my nuts tighten up faster than a slapshot.

“Oh shit,” I say between groans. “I’m gonna come, Jessie. Like…super fast. Like…oh fuck…like now.”

My eyes pop open to see her beautiful features taut with ecstasy, and it’s over like rover. I shoot so hard that my whole body shakes with the force. She moans, long and low, and we tremble together, our mouths locked as tightly as our bodies.

Afterward, we just stay there for a moment, panting. But eventually I have to set the poor girl down and disengage. She clings to me still, her arms around my neck. “That was…” The sentence gets no ending.

Indeed. I smooth her skirt down, because I don’t really want to stop touching her. But we can’t be seen like this. Gently, I lean Jess back against the wall and tuck myself hastily together.

She seems to wake up to our current situation, her hands straightening her hair. Her big eyes hold mine and it slays me. She wears the most beautiful sex flush on her cheeks, and all I can think about is dragging her back to my lair and starting over again.

And my neck feels looser all of a sudden. The pain is gone. I want to build an altar to Jess Canning and declare a miracle.

But first, we have to get out of here. I nudge her gently toward the exit, hoping nobody will notice us sneaking out of the—

Jess smacks into Will O’Connor’s chest the second she steps out the door.

Shit.

My least trustworthy teammate smirks at Jess, then arches a brow at me. “So,” he remarks. “Riley. I guess the ass-kicking for hooking up with Wesley’s sister doesn’t apply to you? He’s gonna be fascinated when I tell him about this.”

I open my mouth to argue, but Jess gets there first. She pokes his chest and scowls at him. “This isn’t high school, asshat. My brother really doesn’t need to hear about every time I do something a little stupid.”

My mouth slams shut. I wish I could unhear what she just said, but it’s already branded into my brain. And the pain it brings freaks me out a little, because it’s been a long, long time since my gut has clenched like this, since it felt like someone had stabbed me in the heart with a skate.

O’Connor’s face splits into a grin. “Hey, if you’re feeling stupid again later, I’m available.”

The strangled sound I’ve been holding back breaks free, emerging from my throat like a twisted gasp.

Sensing trouble, Jess eases backward until she’s pressed against my chest. Her hands find mine, which are clenched into fists. “Move along, Will,” she says quietly. “Nothing to see here.”

He gives a final smirk, and I feel like punching it off his face. It takes all my willpower to let him walk away.

When he’s gone, Jess lets out a breath. “Whew. What an asshole, right?” She turns to me with a smile.

I try to return it, but it’s hard. Because Jess just said in no uncertain terms that fooling around with me was stupid. Whatever I’m feeling for her, it’s obvious she’s not feeling it back. My good mood has been punctured as quickly and completely as a balloon with a needle.

“The coat-check lady is back,” Jess says. “Shall we?”

I take her hand. And then I take her home. But there’s no joy in it.





21 Once More With Feeling





Blake


The puck comes whizzing toward me—it’s a pass from Wesley. I put my stick in position, pluck it out of its trajectory and snap it into the goal.

Or that’s what should have happened.

For the third time today I shoot wide, sending the puck into the waiting arms of my scrimmage opponent, Will O’Connor. And that asshole laughs. I don’t pay attention to him, though, because I’m glancing at Coach instead.

His face goes slack, and he shakes his head.