ALEX
Toronto’s center must have hit me harder than I thought because I’m pretty sure I’m hallucinating.
“Alex, baby, are you okay?” My hallucination takes a tentative step toward me and touches my chest. Her hand warms my already overheated skin.
You can’t feel hallucinations. At least I don’t think you can, which means Violet is really here. I’m almost naked and extremely pissed. I hope she hasn’t witnessed too much of my temper tantrum.
“I thought you weren’t coming.”
She bites her bottom lip. I reach out to skim the plush curve. Fuck, I’ve missed her mouth. I’ve missed her everything.
“I wanted to surprise you. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea.” Her fingers slide from my sweaty shoulder to my neck. “You beat the hell out of that guy. He was bleeding, and you hardly have a mark on you.”
“He pissed me off.” As if it wasn’t obvious from the ass-kicking I served. That’s what happens when an asshole makes derogatory comments about “tag-teaming my newest puck bunny.” I didn’t handle it well. Especially since I was under the impression I wasn’t going to see Violet for several more days. Cockburn and I have had a long-standing dislike for each other ever since I was traded to Chicago instead of him. I’m a better player, and he knows it.
“I could tell. What happened out there?”
“Cockburn was being a dick. I told him how I felt about it with my fists.”
“Cockburn? His last name is almost as unfortunate as Butterson. He must have done something pretty awful to make you so upset.”
“He was running his mouth. It’s what he does best.”
“I’m sorry they kicked you out of the game.” She rests her palm against my chest, right over my heart. “Watching you . . . it made me—” Her head drops, and she peeks up at me through her lashes. “You were so angry. I really shouldn’t find that sexy, should I?”
The rage that’s been rocking my ability to make rational decisions ebbs in the wake of her question, only to be replaced with a different, acute need.
“I missed you,” Violet says softly as she pushes up on her tiptoes, and I bend to meet her.
I have no restraint. At all.
Two weeks with only the uncomfortable chafing of my own hand is a poor replacement for Violet. The way she tastes, the way she feels against my body and in my arms, combined with the frustration over being ejected from the game and the fight, is like an emotional, hormonal, adrenaline bomb.
“Fuck, I missed you.”
I grab her ass and pull her in tight. Her lips part and I seek out her tongue with my own. There’s no softness in this kiss; I’m pent up and on overload. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I lift her off the ground. Her feet dangle a few inches above the floor as I cross the room, away from the entrance and the security detail—who clearly aren’t doing their job since Violet is in here.
I set her down in front of the lockers and she shoves her hips into mine. “Ow!”
“Cup.”
She feels around between us. “Of course, good idea. Protect your snuffie.”
“My what?”
“Your snuffie. Your cock.”
“Huh?”
“You know. Like Snuffleupagus.”
She nibbles my lip, probably as a distraction from the comparison of my most prized body part to a children’s show character.
“My cock in no way resembles a fuzzy, make-believe elephant.” I take care of my shit.
“It’s uncut, so it’s a snuffie, and it’s like a mythological creature, being so monstrous and all.”
“You’re not nicknaming my dick Snuffie, just so we’re—” I yank her shirt over her head.
I’m met with the most amazing bra I’ve ever seen. Ever. It’s awesome. It’s red and white and frilly and mesh so I can see her nipples through the fabric. Her boobs are nestled in there, just waiting for my hands and mouth to be on them.
“I missed you, too,” I tell them as I press my face into her chest and taste her warm skin. Violet makes those fantastic sounds I love.
“I love this bra,” I say from between her boobs.
“I thought you might.”
I walk her backward until she hits the lockers. She pushes her chest out, gripping my hair. As much as I want to admire the way she looks in this bra, I want her naked more. I can take my time later this weekend, when I have a bed, the privacy of my condo, and unlimited hours in which to enjoy every inch of her body. I need to get inside her. Now.
The cup is a problem, and if I don’t get it off soon, I’ll end up with a sprained dick. I have no desire to be relegated to mouth and finger duty for the rest of the weekend. My cock will not stand for it. The cup is secured with snaps; I struggle with them while still trying to kiss Violet.
“Let me help.” Violet sinks to her knees, unclasps her bra, lets it drop to the floor, and moves my hands out of the way.
My dick kicks behind the cup, trying to get free. I wanna fuck. Bad.
Violet frees the snaps. “I was a Girl Scout,” she says as though her skills in cup removal require an explanation. She tilts her head to the right as she frees me to avoid getting hit in the face with my twitching, swinging, super hard erection.
She gives my cock a soft, slow stroke. “I missed you.” Leaning in, she nuzzles my dick against her cheek. Violet looks up and brushes her lips over the head.
“Fuck. Baby, don’t do that.”
“Why not?” She gives me another stroke.
“I appreciate the sentiment, but—”
She runs her tongue across the slit. I’m sweaty and disgusting, but if it tastes bad, she doesn’t let on. I think I love her. My cock jerks in her hand, and I hit my head against the lockers, the heavy thud echoing in the room.
If she puts her mouth on me, I’ll come. I can’t let that happen. Sex in the locker room is my number one fantasy. Well, maybe not my number one—that’s boob sex. Anywhere. This is a close second.
I haul her to her feet and drop to my knees. I unbutton her jeans and discover her panties match the bra: red mesh I can see through with the same white lacy ruffle.
“I know the gift card was for my boobs, but I didn’t want my beaver to feel left out.” She traces the lacy waistband with a fingertip.
“Totally understandable.”
I slide her jeans down her thighs, taking a moment to appreciate her soft skin. Running my hands up the back of her legs, I cup her ass with one hand and the back of her knee with the other. The motherland is right in front of my face. While I can’t wait to be inside, I’m well aware no matter how turned on she is, getting in there without a warm-up is inadvisable. Plus, I promised to eat her, and I keep my promises.
Hooking her leg over my shoulder, I kiss my way from her knee up the inside of her thigh, nipping a little on the way.
She tries to be quiet, but her hushed whimpers are my favorite sound in the world.
“Is this okay, baby?” I can tell it is. I still want her breathless, panted words. The ones that make me ache for the warmth of her body.
She exhales sharply as I place two small, wet kisses just above her pussy. “Please, Alex.”
I don’t need further invitation; I stroke her with my tongue. And then I do it again, and again. She writhes against my face, her eyes closed, biting her knuckle to keep from making too much noise. Her palm slams against the lockers as she comes on my mouth.
Her other hand is twined in my hair, yanking. It takes me a while to realize she’s trying to get me to come up for air. Her eyes bug out, and she swipes at my chin with her palm. “Oh, God. That’s . . . I’m so leaky.”
“I love the way you taste.” I’m egotistical enough to believe I’m the reason she gets so wet. I stroke myself a couple of times with my slick fingers, and then I grab her ass, pinning her against the lockers.
“Two weeks is too long to wait for this.”
“I know. I went through monster cock withdrawal.”
I lower her onto me and try not to think about how fucking fantastic it feels to be inside Violet again or how I plan to do a lot more of it over the next couple of days. I search for something else to focus on so I don’t come too fast. Stats usually work, but getting kicked out of the game makes it a bad place for my mind to go. I shift my hips back and thrust hard. Violet gasps, and her head thumps against the locker.
“Shit. Sorry.”
“For what?”
“Not too hard?”
She shakes her head. She kisses across my jaw to my ear and whispers, “Come on, Alex. Fuck me.”
That’s it. She can’t whisper things like that and expect me to be a gentleman. Although, considering we’re having sex in a locker room, gentlemanliness went out the window a while ago.
I pull out until only the head is still inside and then push back in, fast and deep. “Like this?”
I take her garbled response as an affirmative and do it again. Her head lolls back, hitting the locker with a metallic thump. I try to fight off the orgasm threatening to overtake me. It’s coming anyway, and I can’t stop it. Violet wraps her legs tighter around my waist, and her nails dig into my shoulders as I pound into her relentlessly.
Violet doesn’t seem to mind my complete loss of control. She bites my neck and mutters fuck me repeatedly. I change the angle to get a better grip on her ass, and she circles her hips. Bowing my head, I bite the skin just above her breast, and she lets out the sexiest, sweetest cry.
“I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk.”
It’s no way to talk to the woman I am currently having aggressive, hot sex with against a set of lockers, regardless of whether it’ll be true. I wait for her to slap me across the face.
Instead she smacks my ass and groans. “I damn well hope so.”
The banging of the lockers grows louder the harder I go. Violet chants how much she loves my cock the closer she gets to an orgasm. It makes me feel like a superstar. Beyond the walls of the locker room, I hear the sound of the buzzer and raucous cheers. I’m too wrapped up in the feel to get what it means.
Suddenly, I’m being squeezed so hard the circulation to my dick feels like it’s being cut off. Violet calls out my name, followed by a string of colorful profanities as she comes. Hard. So do I.
I feel like the champion of the world. Just as I surface from the abyss of sexual gratification, I hear voices.
“That was unreal,” Violet says. “I want you to do me again.”
“Violet, baby—”
She kisses me fiercely. “I love it when you call me baby.”
Violet is so out of it, she hasn’t registered we’re no longer alone. Well, as alone as we possibly could be with security guards hanging out in the hallway.
The voices grow louder, filtering into the locker room. I tuck Violet’s head into my neck and angle my body so the only parts of her showing are her legs wrapped around my waist. Even that’s too much exposure. If I hadn’t been so volatile tonight, we wouldn’t be in this situation. I just keep screwing things up all over the place where Violet is concerned.
“What the fuck, Waters?”
Butterson’s voice echoes through the room. While I don’t particularly care if he knows about Violet and me, his walking in while I’m banging her against the lockers isn’t going to go over well. Some of the other guys stop short. The majority turn around, staying on the other side of the room, where Violet and I are mostly out of view.
“Uh-oh,” Violet whispers, burying her face in my neck. “I think we’re pucked.”
“You’re unbelievable, man. You get kicked out of the game, and first thing you do is find a bunny to screw?” Butterson sounds somewhere between incredulous and envious.
“You might want to give us a minute,” I say, adjusting my grip on Violet’s ass. I have no idea how I’m going to get her out of here without anyone else seeing her naked.
“Now you’re looking for privacy? You should’ve thought of that before you decided to fuck some bunny against the lockers.”
While I totally deserve to have the piss taken out of me for this, the situation blows.
“Hey, Butterson,” Kirk says. “Isn’t that your sister?”
If we weren’t pucked before, we sure as hell are now.
