Last Chance Christmas by Joanne Rock Page B

wasn’t sure she wanted him to see that. Her whole body vibrated with a fever of anticipation.
    Her words spurred him to action, his own shirt coming off in a flash to land on the floor. He was more careful with hers, mindful of her ribs. But she was so busy ogling the raw male beauty of his body she didn’t mind slowing down.
    “I know you do this for the sport,” she whispered, running an appreciative hand along his upper arm. “And not for female viewing pleasure. But the women of the hockey viewing world are grateful.”
    “I’m not caring about anyone else’s opinion right now.” He tossed her sweater to the floor and drew down the strap of her simple black satin bra. “But I’ll take any advantage in turning you on.”
    He flicked open the front closure of the bra and kissed a path around her left nipple. When his mouth closed around the tip, pleasure spiked through her so hard she gasped. The hot swipe of his tongue a delicious contrast to the tight pull of his mouth. She rocked against him, demanding more. Now.
    He turned his attention to her other breast, blowing on her skin softly until she couldn’t wait anymore. She stroked her palm up the front of his pants, finding what she wanted against the fly. Freeing him, she dragged her fingers along the heated length until his eyes landed on her.
    “I’ll take any advantage turning you on, too,” she confided, arching against him as much as her ribs would allow.
    “You don’t even have to try,” he muttered, sliding down her body so he kissed her bare hip just below the rib belt that protected her injury.
    The feel of his mouth there sent shivers everywhere as her temperature spiked. His breath tickled her skin, making her wiggle deeper into the feather down mattress. Seeing his broad shoulders angled between her thighs flooded her with heat. Her breath stuck in her throat as he hauled her sweats down and off. He kept her panties on a little longer, but only to tease her it seemed, since he used the lace to rub back and forth over the place where she needed him most.
    She threaded her fingers through his hair, his name a whisper on her lips as the pleasure built in a hot, sensual ache.
    When the panties were gone and his mouth replaced the lace, she thought she’d die from how good it felt. Her release jolted her, sending wave after wave of fulfillment cascading through her. He held her tighter, coaxing her higher until she collapsed beneath him, boneless and deliciously sated.
    She hadn’t even caught her breath when he slid free from her thighs, his powerful arms bracketing her on the bed. His hips making room between her legs.
    “I’m not on the pill,” she remembered belatedly, pressing a hand to her chest. “I didn’t think—”
    “I took care of it.” He took her wrist and guided her hand to where a condom already covered him.
    She must have been dazed from that orgasm longer than she realized. She only had a moment to stroke him there before he moved her hand, placing it back on the bed while he covered her.
    Incapable of being still, she threaded her fingers through his hair. She watched as his eyes closed, the cords of his neck standing out as he entered her slowly. He gripped her hip on her uninjured side, running his hand down her leg, wrapping it around his waist until he was seated deep inside her. For a long moment, he stayed there, letting her adjust. Or maybe just allowing himself to breathe in the moment. If he felt half as good as she did right now, this had to rock him.
    But then, he started to move and she could only think about how that felt on her end.
    Delicious. Incredible. Life-altering.
    She tried not to think about that last part and focus on the other two. Their bodies synched to one another like they communicated on a whole other plane.
    She moved with him, meeting his thrusts and finding the rhythm that drove him wild. Twice he seemed close and he slowed down. But the third time his heart raced under her palm, she