I squeeze Aspen’s hand as we plunge over the edge of the cliff. I suck in a deep breath and cast a quick glance at her, and then we’re crashing through the surface. The water is cold, but not as bad as it could be for this time of year. It sucks us down quickly, pressing in on all sides.
We both kick, surging back toward air. Her hand slips from mine, but it’s no matter. I feel the heat of her in the water, only inches away. I shake my head, sending water droplets flying everywhere, and reach for her.
She slicks her hair back and wipes her eyes. Her makeup is still intact—barely—and I groan at the thought of the water rinsing her lipstick off my cock.
I know. I shouldn’t be thinking of that right now.
But then I decide that we can just have a repeat performance since it was her idea to jump. Her fault if it gets washed away.
I find her waist and haul her closer, until her chest bumps into mine. We’re both treading, our legs avoiding kicking each other.
She tips her head back and eyes the point.
Then she laughs.
Laughs, and it’s goddamn music to my ears.
I kiss her, intent on swallowing her happiness. Maybe it’ll help me be less miserable.
She’s still smiling against my lips. Her hand loops around my shoulders, and her legs wind around my hips.
“You shouldn’t have jumped,” she admonishes quietly. “You have a game in a few hours.”
I shrug off her concern. I wasn’t going to let her go on her own, that’s for fucking sure. I gesture toward the spot we’ve climbed out before, and she unwinds herself from me to swim in that direction. We pass over some rocks—the ones the signs warn about—and get to the ledge.
Aspen tries and fails to hoist herself up.
I swim up behind her and grip her hips, giving her a boost. She pivots and sits on the ledge, her lower lip caught in her teeth. I hop up, too, and then climb to my feet. The path back to our clothes cuts back and forth, and it’s a little rocky. If I hadn’t been wearing dress shoes, I would’ve kept them on.
She had the right idea.
I help her stand, then propel her in front of me. Water sluices off her body. Her nipples are visible through her bra, and I try not to think about the tattoo just under the hemline of her panties. I pull my briefs away from my dick, eyeing it.
The lipstick is still there.
I don’t know why I care that much. But her going under the table at the restaurant shows her daring, and it gives me a thrill all my own.
Because she’s mine.
Fuck, she doesn’t even argue that point anymore.
Finally, we get back to the jump spot and locate our clothes. I don’t bother putting my stuff back on—we’re both soaked, and I don’t really have another outfit planned for today. I bundle it all up and watch as Aspen comes to the same conclusion about her leather leggings: that there’s no way they’re going on wet legs.
“I’ve got a towel in the back of my car,” I say, urging her with me.
We pick up a faster pace and hurry through the restaurant parking lot. She seems keenly aware that people can see us through the restaurant windows.
Hell, they might’ve seen us jump.
I snatch the threadbare towel and wrap it around her. She takes it gratefully, tossing her clothes and purse into the trunk. I snap it closed and get the heat cranking in the car.
We’ll be at my apartment in minutes.
Aspen shivers beside me, wrapping her arms around herself. I put my hand on her thigh and leave it there until we’re parked in front of the hockey house. The guys are home—I spot Erik’s truck, too, which is irritating.
He ogled Aspen enough at the party, I don’t need him seeing her in her soaking-wet underwear now. I eye her as we climb out of the car, then grab her and throw her over my shoulder.
“Hey!” she squeals, almost kicking me in the face.
I smack her ass with my free hand, the one not securing her against me.
She lets out a huff and goes limp. Her ass really is gorgeous, her cheek reddening from my palm without much prompting at all. Her chest brushes my back, and I groan.
My dick twitches.
“Our stuff—”
“I’ll come back for it,” I tell her, striding toward the house.
Anything to get her off the sidewalk, where anyone could see her. I stroll in the front door and kick it closed behind me, sparing only a glance at the guys in the living room.
Erik and Jacob are both there with beers in their hands. It appears my teammates are refraining, waters and sandwiches in front of them.
“Whoa,” Erik calls. “What happened to you—”
The rest of the guys eye us, too. Aspen lifts her head just enough for Erik to get a look at her, and then she flips him off.
I chuckle. “We jumped off the point.”
“It’s freaking November,” Erik says, his eyebrows shooting up. “And you have a game—”
“It’s fine,” I interrupt. I keep moving, around the corner and up the stairs. Straight to the bathroom, where I deposit Aspen. Her expression is pure lust.
“You keep eyeing me like that, and everyone downstairs is going to hear you,” I warn.
She shrugs, holding my gaze. “Let them listen.” She gestures to the door. “I dare you to leave it open.”
Oh, she’ll be the death of me.
Still.
Challenge accepted.
I point to the counter. She slides her panties off and kicks them away, then hops up on it. She spreads her legs without prompting, giving me a view of her gorgeous cunt. She’s already wet and glistening for me. The tattoo is perfect.
Property of Steele O’Brien.
The rush that goes through me is indescribable. Those words are unavoidable—there’s no one who will try to fuck her and not know that she’s already claimed by another. No asshole would survive that anyway.
I’ve never killed anyone before, but I know in my bones that I would for her.
Without hesitation.
I step up and run my finger through her center, catching that moisture and gauging how responsive my little viper is going to be today. Her eyes flutter, her lips parting. I take her hands and position them on the edge of the counter, allowing her fingers to curl around the lip and hold on to it.
She makes a small noise when I drop to my knees in front of her.
This is one of my favorite parts. Tasting her. Making her scream and writhe. Driving her absolutely fucking crazy. I get an up-close view of the tattoo, and my heart beats harder. Never mind my cock, which is straining to get out of my wet briefs.
I lick and suck and finger-fuck her until her head falls back, and then I pull away. Dance around her clit, pay attention to her inner thighs. She’s panting hard, her muscles clenching around my fingers. She wants to come, but she hasn’t begged for it yet. She hasn’t opened her pretty mouth and let loose the cry I know is coming.
So we repeat this until every swipe of my tongue sends a tremor through her muscles. A ripple down her legs and up her abdomen.
“Please,” she finally says. “Please, Steele, just fucking give it to me.”
I chuckle, sitting back on my heels. I look up at her, at her wet hair, her ruined makeup, her hard little nipples poking through her bra. I slide one finger inside her. Slow.
She groans and lifts her hips.
“Fuck me,” she cries. “Please. God, I’m begging.”
A flutter soars through me.
“That’s right, sweetheart,” I agree, leaning forward and running my nose across her clit. Inhaling her musky scent. “I am your god.”
She moans, but it ends on a whimper when I pull away again. When my finger slips out of her. I rise, pushing my briefs down. It frees my aching cock, my balls ready to unload my cum. We both look down at my lipstick-streaked length, and I shake my head.
We’ll have to redo it later.
I unclasp her bra and yank it off.
The bathroom door is wide open, but whatever. Her tits are perfect, heavy globes. Every curve of her is a thrill to explore.
I palm both of them, digging my fingers into her flesh. Her mouth is still open, her chest heaving, and her eyes go wide when the head of my dick slides through her slickness. Over her clit, then down. It notches at her entrance without much effort at all, and I push in an inch.
My muscles ache, too, and it takes all my willpower not to thrust into her as hard as I can. She clutches my upper arms, her throat working as she swallows her gasp.
This is about edging her until she breaks.
“Oh, god,” she whimpers again, reaching for me.
I let her grip my neck and bring me down to her. Our lips touch. She’s breathing too hard to do much more than that. Her legs wrap around my hips, her heels pressing into my ass. What she wants is extraordinarily clear.
But… the thought of torturing her a little longer is too good to resist.
I rock forward the smallest amount. An inch, a millimeter. She stretches around me, and her mouth opens when I withdraw again.
“Beg,” I whisper against her lips. “Beg for your orgasm, Aspen. And make sure they can all hear you.”
Her nails bite into my neck, and her gaze bores into mine. Her green eyes to my brown.
And then she opens her lips and does just what I ask.
“Please,” she cries, loud. “Please let me come, Steele. I need to come on your cock.”
I inch forward, then back. Torture for both of us. My hands tighten on her breasts, my thumbs coasting over her nipples. It evokes another shiver.
“I can’t take it anymore. Fuck me.” Her voice rings between us, like she’s screaming to the heavens and not me, inches away.
I grip my dick and stroke my length. I’m still inside her. Barely.
Working her up has had the same effect on me, and I shudder when my balls tighten. My abdomen tightens, too, and pleasure races up my spine. I come inside her like that, with just my tip lodged inside her sweet cunt. I force myself to keep my eyes open, even as my knees go a little weak.
She bows forward and watches it happen, too. Watches my dick twitch and cum ooze out of her almost immediately after I slip out.
I immediately replace my dick with my fingers, pushing the cum back into her. “You look so pretty filled like this. You take me so fucking well, Aspen. You did so good.”
I lean down and kiss her chest. Then higher, up her neck. I capture her lips last, plunging my tongue inside her while my fingers plug my cum in her pussy.
“Gorgeous,” I say against her lips, then I pull back. I take her hands and help her off the counter, leading her naked down the hall and into my room. I close the door—because the fuckers downstairs definitely heard her, which is what we wanted. But I don’t need them to see the aftermath.
She gapes at me. “You’re not going to finish the job?”
“I finished.” I wink at her.
There are some of her clothes in a drawer, and I open it for her. “Underwear. No bra.”
She narrows her eyes at me. When I don’t budge, she lets out a sigh and steps up, choosing a very basic, almost boring pair of panties from it. She doesn’t ask me where they came from—the answer is, her dresser, duh—and instead bends over and drags them up her legs.
I get dressed, too. Barely. A new pair of black briefs and dark-gray sweatpants.
“Good,” I say. “Now, will you leave my pussy alone while I go down to the car and get our stuff, or do I need to tie you up?”
Her glare is all I need. She backs up a step at whatever expression crosses my face, but it’s too late. I lunge for her.
We hit the bed, her under me, and she’s immediately fighting to get me off. I capture one wrist and twist her, folding her arm behind her back. Then the other one. I use my weight to keep her down, and it only takes a little stretch to find one of my discarded ties on the floor.
I knot it around her wrists and flip her onto her back—and subsequently, her hands.
“Stay,” I order, smirking to myself.
She blows out a breath, her dark hair fluttering away from her face.
If looks could kill…
Ah, well. Good thing they can’t.
