My hair was tucked under a baseball cap with a little spillage. Oversized sweatshirt. Leggings. Sneakers. I was hella comfortable and I knew in no way incognito, but the cap was pulled low, and I was sneaking past the cars in their driveway. I went up, and around, going to the little ledge by his main window. I knelt. His curtain was still pulled shut, but I reached for the window and found it unlocked.
I slid it open, moved aside the curtain, and surveyed his room.
The window was directly above his little couch. His bed was to the left, right in front of the door. He was still sleeping, on his side and under his blanket. I moved quietly, stepping down onto his couch and slid the window back in place.
His door wasn’t locked. I went over, locked it, and watched him for a second.
He looked so relaxed, I was second guessing if I wanted to wake him.
But no. I had to remind myself we were only fuck buddies, so I took my sweatshirt off, undid my bra, and toed off my shoes. Going to his bed, I lifted the sheet up and slid inside.
“Wha–oh!” Cruz came awake, rearing up. Realizing who I was, he relaxed. His head went back to his pillow, and he drowsily grinned at me. His whole face was soft from sleep. As I finished moving in, laying on my back and still on the edge, his hand went to my stomach, moving under my tank top. “I didn’t think you’d come over.”
“This okay?”
He nodded, his eyes darkening. He moved in, his mouth touching mine.
I always loved that first touch of our lips. That was my thing. I never told another person, but the first kiss always gave me tingles and warmed me up. But smelling his toothpaste, I pulled back. “You brushed your teeth recently?”
His eyes closed. “Went to the bathroom after we texted, thought just in case.” Then his eyes opened, and he grew a lot more focused. His mouth found mine again, this time it was more demanding, and just like always, I was swept up from the rush of his touch.
It wasn’t long before he moved over me, his body on mine and we kept kissing.
Closed mouth. Open mouth. With tongue. I loved all of it.
I loved how he peppered kisses down my throat, down my body.
How he bent over me, caressing one breast as he tasted my other one and all the while, rubbing against me as I was moving up and against him just as hard.
I fucking loved this.
He kept kissing me until it was torture.
I was writhing under him, straining for him, but he was taking his time.
I pulled back, gasping and out of breath. “What are you doing?”
He grinned down at me, grinding into me, and I groaned from the sensation. Cradling my head, his hand on the side of my face, he said, “I’m savoring you.” He went back to kissing me, his hand cupping my breast, his thumb rubbing over my nipple.
The inferno in me was lit. I wanted more.
I reached down, finding his sweatpants’ waistband and started to slide my hand inside, but he caught it and lifted it up, pressing my hand down as he rolled more concretely over me. He was halting any other way I could reach for his cock. But he kept kissing me, his tongue sliding inside and taking ownership of me in that way.
I tried with my other hand.
He caught that one and pinned both down as he kept tasting me.
God. It felt so good.
His mouth, his tongue. He was so good at this. Hours. I could do this for hours with him.
Arching my back, I tried to lift him a little bit, but he only chuckled. His mouth moved over mine again. It never left me as he was doing a slow move up and into my body. I could feel him, his dick was straining, and he was grinding into me through my leggings.
I wanted that last connection. Needing it, I wound my legs tight around his waist, pushing back against him.
He groaned this time, his mouth falling away as he was panting.
“Babe, let me wake up to you. I wanna take my time.”
“We’re not slow sex people.”
His eyes had a dark molten look simmering there and he focused back on my mouth. He murmured, “We are today.” He bent down, his mouth catching mine and this time, he wouldn’t let go. Not that I was fighting him. I opened right up for him, my neck arching up and into him, and he moved with me. This gave me a small opening between our bodies. I snaked my hand out from under his, found his stomach, and he sucked in a breath at the touch. I slid down, slowly, with purpose, my palm flat against his stomach, under his waistband. He didn’t stop my touch this time, and I knew I had him. I found him, wrapping my hand around him, and he gasped, breaking away from my mouth. He fell half down, his mouth rasping against my ear. “I fucking love when you do that.”
“Do what? This?” I squeezed lightly.
He moaned.
“Or this?” I began moving up and down.
Another deep and guttural groan from him.
I kept pumping him and he held himself still, feeling me feeling him.
“God, you’re so good at that.”
I laughed. “The compliments that happen in bed.”
He grinned, laughing, and he turned to see me more fully. All the while, I kept working him and the glazed, darkened look in his gaze was my reward. I loved seeing that look from him. “You got a few more before I bury myself in you so deep I’m gonna poke your stomach.”
“See. Love the shit you say to me.”
He laughed but lifted himself up more so he could see me touching him, sliding up and down over him. “Goddamn,” he whispered before his whole body shuddered and he reared up. The blanket was thrown off. His hands caught my hips, jerking me down, and took hold of my leggings, whipping them off me. Leggings normally didn’t work that way. They stuck like a second skin. They were pushed down, not whipped off. Not with Cruz. At the sight of my bare legs, he paused, eyeing me, and his tongue touched his lip.
I knew what he had in mind, and I was torn.
I wanted his dick in me, but he bent, peeling my underwear down, this time going slow. He laid me more fully down on the bed, getting comfortable. I closed my eyes, knowing he was going to torture me all over again.
His mouth settled over me, and I almost came right then and there.
He began, and he moaned a second later. “Fuck! I love eating you.”
I twisted, knowing I was the one with the lidded and glazed look now, but I loved watching him as much as he loved eating me. Sunday breakfast.
I had the thought, before the edges of my vision blurred and I could still think. “Twist up. 69.”
He moved around, and my mouth closed over his dick as his returned to my clit.
I was really happy that I came this morning.
“What are your plans today?” Cruz asked as he came from the shower, heading to his closet.
I flipped over in bed. Unlike him, who was getting up to head to the ice rink, I was being lazy. I’d not dressed, and I pulled his blanket more firmly over me.
“Uh. Studying? Probably.”
He dropped the towel, and my mouth watered.
It was a crime against hockey players to cover up their hotness with those pads and jerseys. For real. These guys were insane with how many times they went to the rink to practice. There were skill sessions through the day. Weight sessions. Actual cardio sessions and then there was the real practice. Mix in studying, getting all the sleep they needed, and all the fuel, these guys were some of the busiest athletes I knew. But all that work equaled mouthwatering salivating bodies. I was drooling, looking over Cruz’s body, his back, as he was reaching for his shirt and all the muscles were shifting together.
Then how the shirt came down over him, hugging and falling over his back perfectly.
Then, God, the sweatshirt. The hoodie. The hockey hoodie. His last name on the back. His number, 71. The two crossing hockey sticks on the side, and it was a vintage-looking sweatshirt too. The best kind. And I was having a hot flash as he was now pulling on his boxer briefs. He bent down, bringing them up, and his leg muscles. The sweats. How they draped over his lean hips.
Um. Totally thinking I needed to buy Cruz a vibrator, so he had one here for me. Damn sure I was going to replay this later.
It took me a second to realize he was looking at me, looking at him and judging by the smirk, he knew where my thoughts had gone.
I grinned. “No shame here. You’re a hot individual.”
He laughed, raking a hand through his hair before he went to grab the rest of his stuff. Wallet. Keys. His phone was by me on the nightstand. He came over, grabbed it, but stayed, looking at me.
“Hi.”
He moved in closer. “Wanna stay? Or come back? We can do a day of studying and you know. Now that we can text, I think studying is okay. We’re in the same class.” His knee bumped against the bed suggestively. “Whaddaya say? I’m remembering how we first hooked up. Sex apart, the studying was great.”
“You serious?” I sat up, the blanket tucked over my chest.
He nodded, his gaze going to exactly where the blanket was covering. “I can pick up food on the way back.”
I was considering it, but that was a whole day in the hockey house. “What about, I go to my place. You come with food. We study there?”
His eyes lit up. “Even better. More privacy.”
I nodded. He was picking up what I was putting down.
“Sounds like a plan. I’m down. Anything in particular you want me to pick up?”
I shrugged. “It’s up to you.”
A door closed down the hallway, and a moment later, there was a thump on his door. “Head out! I’ll be in the truck.”
That was Barclay.
Cruz headed for the door but looked back. “You good to leave on your own?”
I nodded, laying back down and stretching. I was familiar with how long the Sunday skate usually went. “Might take my time before leaving.”
“Alright. See you later.”
He left but locked his own door before he did.
Because of that, I closed my eyes…
…his bed was so comfortable.
