Alex reached for her bare feet, absentmindedly rubbing them, while cursing the ref for a shitty call.
Watching hockey with Alex probably only came in second to having sex with him. He knew all sorts of behind-the-scenes secrets and scandals about the players and the owners.
He pointed to the TV when two players started brawling. “Shit, man. Johannsen’s gonna be sorry he threw off those gloves. Marconi has a left hook that’ll clean your clock.”
“You’re ruining me for hockey,” she admitted.
“What?”
“How the hell am I supposed to watch it after sitting here with you? You know everything. I mean, dammit, I love the game, but you take it next level.”
Alex snorted. “You know what’s funny? I was just sitting here thinking the same thing about you. I mean, my family enjoys the sport, but they don’t live and breathe it the way we do.”
Charley nodded. Understanding completely. “I totally get that. Ben and I used to watch it together. And while I’m sure he was into it, he didn’t love it, didn’t get swept away by it like I did. I think it’s because we grew up playing hockey. We know what it feels like to be on that ice, racing along the smooth surface, dodging the other guys, and when you take that swing, when you know it’s going in the second the puck connects with your stick—”
“It’s magic,” he finished.
“Yeah.”
“When was the last time you were on the ice?”
“I try to hit the rink every day—skating is the only exercise routine I can commit to—but I haven’t played hockey since…God, I can’t remember when.”
“You still got your gear?” he asked.
Charley gave him a look that screamed seriously? “Who the fuck gets rid of their gear?”
“Quitters, that’s who.” He grinned. “I’m gonna call Max tomorrow. See if I can reserve the rink for an hour or two. You up for a little one-on-one?”
“Yeah. But be warned, I’m checking you if you get in my way.”
“Is there any other way to play?”
“You’re on.”
Her feet were still in Alex’s lap, something he used to his advantage as he pulled her toward him until she was flat on her back on the couch. He tugged at her yoga pants, drawing them all the way off and tossing them on the floor.
“Did we finally get to the ‘going down’ phase of the night?” she asked.
“You’re a sex maniac,” he teased, twisting between her legs, running his tongue along her slit.
“Is that a complaint?” she asked, her voice suddenly breathless.
Alex licked her again before lifting his head. “Are you nuts? Wish I’d noticed this side to you in high school.”
Charley snorted, the sound cut short when he nipped her clit with his teeth. “Oh my God.”
He pressed his tongue inside her once, twice, three times. Then he replaced his mouth with his fingers, driving two deep. “I should have taken you to homecoming.”
“Yeah, right. No way I would have gone with you with that fat lip. You looked like hell.”
He bit her clit again and she struggled to speak, her heart racing.
Then she recalled graduation. “Besides, back then, you always had your hand up Missy’s skirt or Rhonda’s or...”
“Point taken,” he murmured, his breath hot on her pussy.
“I wasn’t a blip on your radar.”
“I was an idiot.” He backed that assertion up by adding a third finger to the first two, his thumb rubbing her clit.
Her back arched, pleasure coursing through her. Charley still couldn’t believe how quickly he managed to push her to the edge.
“Don’t feel too bad,” she joked. “There was no way I was adding my name to your list of conquests back then. It was one thing to hear your locker room talk. It would have been something completely different if it had been m—fuck me.”
He curled his fingers inside, found that spot that drove her absolutely insane.
“You were saying?” he asked, his smug grin proving he knew what he was doing to her.
She couldn’t remember her own name, let alone whatever it was they were talking about.
“Oh, Alex.” Her pussy clenched and she came, loudly. “Holy shit.”
Alex stood up as she lay on the couch, boneless.
While she didn’t have two functioning brain cells to rub together, Alex wasn’t quite ready to end their chat.
“I wasn’t that bad, Charley.” He stripped off his pants and boxers, pulling his T-shirt off by reaching behind his neck with one hand and pulling it over his head in one smooth motion.
The man was the definition of built.
She stared at him.
“Tell me I wasn’t that bad back in school,” he taunted, stroking his thick, hard dick in his big hand.
Her wits were returning.
So was her competitiveness.
She raised one disbelieving eyebrow. “Not that bad?” she asked, her tone pure “you must be kidding.”
“Jesus. Eight years later and you still don’t let me get away with anything.”
“My eyes are wide open when it comes to you, Alex Stone,” she teased.
“Good,” he said, climbing over her on the couch, caging her beneath him as he took her cheeks in his hands. “Keep them open. I want you to remember exactly who it is you’re with.” He kissed her, a soft, glancing touch that wasn’t nearly enough. “Who you’re married to.”
She laughed softly. “For now.”
If she hadn’t followed his orders, hadn’t kept her eyes open, she would have missed the slight narrowing of his eyes, the flash of emotion that was there for an instant, then gone again as he slid inside her, slowly, deeply.
And that was when she realized she was done for.
Twenty-four hours in, and she was completely in love with Alex Stone.
Shit.
Chapter Eleven
Alex finished lacing up his skates, grinning as Charley slid up and down the ice, dribbling the puck in front of her with ease.
Maybe she hadn’t played lately, but it was clear she hadn’t forgotten a thing. Her love of the game radiated from every part of her.
He didn’t realize how long he’d been standing there, leaning on the wall, watching her, until she skidded to a stop right in front of him.
“Intimidated?” she taunted, her eyebrows lifted, an outright challenge.
“You sure you don’t want to set some friendly rules? I mean, I don’t mind teaching you a lesson about biting off more than you can chew, but if you want to beg for mercy…now is a good time.”
Alex had reserved the rink for two hours, requesting that they have the entire place to themselves.
Because of several donations he’d made, Max, the owner, was only too happy to oblige. They’d stopped by Max’s place for the key and now they were alone in their own personal mecca.
Charley took advantage of their privacy, reaching out and running her hand over his cock. Two firm strokes, and she had him at half-mast and rising fast.
“I’m pretty sure I can handle whatever you’ve got.”
She stroked him a few times more, then spun away from him on the ice, slapping the puck a good fifty feet and sinking it in the net.