“WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME NOW?” I’m so intoxicated by this man I’m floating about an inch off the ground.
Brooks grins over his shoulder. He’s practically dragging me along behind him on the top floor of the arena, a place I rarely visit. “Live a little.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I squeeze his hand. “Your idea of living is bedazzling your penis. I’m not sure I can keep up.”
I still can’t wrap my head around it, even if I’m beyond excited to see it. And nervous.
I haven’t been shy about sex since college, but the idea of seeing my best friend’s penis makes me feel like a teenager. Giddy and slightly juvenile. If he whips it out, I can’t guarantee I won’t point at it or call it pretty. I can’t control my mouth when I’m around him. The most awkward things come out.
It’s truly mortifying.
“You ever going to get over that?”
With a playful wince, I shake my head. “Probably not.”
“Cool.” He dips his chin. “I’ll be prepared, then.”
Slightly offended but mostly amused, I knock my shoulder against his bicep.
The grin he hits me with lights up my insides. God, I like him like this. If things were always like this…
Don’t get ahead of yourself.
That reminder has me forcing my heart and my brain to rein themselves in.
We approach a solid black door I’ve never set foot beyond before, and Brooks holds it open for me. “Ladies first.”
“Great, so if we get caught, I’ll be the first one they see.”
His boisterous laugh follows me into the room. “Pumpkin, my family owns the building. Who’s gonna catch us?”
Bouncing on my toes, I spin to face him. “Beckett can be pretty scary.”
That comment pulls a chuckle from him. “The man I made friendship bracelets with yesterday? Yeah, I’ll take my chances.”
My heart warms, and my lips twitch at that mental image. I like that idea a bit too much. Brooks and his grown-ass billionaire brothers sitting around a dining room table, surrounded by colored beads, making friendship bracelets. It’s another perfect reminder of who he is. Of the Brooks he’s always been. Of the man I’m kind of crazy about.
The lights in the room are off, but because of the big window overlooking the rink, the unfamiliar space is easy to make out. “What are we doing in the announcer’s booth?”
He steps up beside me, his hands in his pockets, and scans the arena. “You asked me about my rituals a while back. I come here before every home game.”
I turn and take him in, silently waiting for him to elaborate. God, he’s so gorgeous. Tendrils of hair have escaped his bun since the photo shoot, and the scruff on his face makes the giant of a man look even more rugged.
“I visualize every potential play, as I’ve told you. I run through them up here. Kind of imagine the play-by-play as if the announcer is calling it. How I’ll stop the puck in each scenario.”
I can’t stop the smile that forms on my face. “That’s adorable.”
With a huff, he side-eyes me. “Adorable?”
“Not what you were going for?”
“Not quite.” His lips quirk. “But I’ll take it, I guess.”
“So why’d you bring me here?”
He turns to me, pulling both hands out of his pockets, and takes hold of mine. “Because I want you to know me. All of me. I’m obsessive and crazy focused when it comes to the game. I told you I’ve never dated during the season, but that’s not the exact truth.”
My heart rate kicks up, and I have to fight the urge to take a step back.
The gentle way he squeezes my fingers is a reassurance. He reads me so freaking well. “It’s not a lie. Just not the full truth.” His swallow is audible, and his Adam’s apple bobs harshly. “I don’t broadcast this, but I’ve never dated. Period.”
This time my heart trips over itself. “Oh.”
“For as long as I can remember, I’ve focused on nothing but being the best goalie, and before you, I never met anyone who could compete with the game.”
The smile that overtakes me is so broad it makes my cheeks burn, and heat creeps up my neck and into my face. If this room were any lighter, I have no doubt Brooks would be able to see just how pink I’ve gone.
My voice quakes right along with my knees when I push the words out. “But I compete with the game?”
“It’s a shutout, babe. There’s no competition. For all these years, I thought that I had to pick. Between the game and a relationship. But not being with you didn’t keep me from obsessing over you. I couldn’t get you out of my head last year, and we still won the Cup.” He rubs circles against my hand with his thumb, a little too quickly, like he’s nervous. “So if you’re open to it, I’d like to try being with you. For real. Instead of being my fake girlfriend, I was hoping you’d want to be my first real one.”
“I’d be your first?” The thought makes it hard to breathe. How has Brooks never dated before?
“You’d be my first everything.” He’s so quiet, and his voice is filled with so much vulnerability.
Sincere green eyes study my reaction. They’re swimming with a potent mixture of fear and hope. The tension in the air is almost suffocating.
“Brooks.” It’s hard to breathe all of a sudden. “Never?”
He sucks on his bottom lip and gives his head one firm shake. “No.”
“Holy shit.”
Dammit. I wish I knew how to respond in a way that would put him at ease. But he knows me. He shouldn’t be surprised that I turn into a babbling idiot at moments like this. I clamp a hand over my mouth, hoping to stem the idiocy threatening to spew from me, but the words tumble out anyway.
“No one else has taken that bedazzled penis for a ride?”
He snorts, and his cheeks flame. I’m pretty sure mine match.
“Your pretty penis is all mine?”
Oh God. Someone stop me.
“Tell me it sparkles, and I’ll drop to my knees right now.”
“Are you done yet?” he teases. Even his ears are pink now.
I suck in a deep breath. “Yes, I think I am. Wait.” I groan. “Nope. One more. Does it shoot actual pearl necklaces?”
“Sara!” His chest heaves with laughter.
I throw myself against his broad chest and cling to him, and we hold each other up as we dissolve into giggles. He smooths a hand over my back, calming me with his touch, and I snuggle further into his chest.
“Thank you for trusting me with another secret. I promise I don’t take the fact that you’re a virgin lightly. We can definitely go slow.”
He drags his hand down to my ass and squeezes. “Never said I wanted to go slow.”
My skin heats, and tingles shoot up my spine. I look up at him, my chin on his chest, and breathe him in. “Right. That was me.”
“Mm-hmm.” He lowers his head, casting his face in shadow, and stares down at me. His tongue slides against his lip again, making heat pool low in my belly.
I groan against him. “Why did I want to take things slow again?”
“Because my uncle stomped on your heart, and then I hurt you.”
My lungs constrict, but I breathe through the ache. “Seb didn’t hurt me, Brooks. But losing you—”
He splays his hands on either side of my neck, cradling my head and threading his fingers through my hair. “You will never lose me.”
With a deep breath in, I allow that sentiment to settle between us. There is no nervousness when it comes to that anymore. I believe him. This man just bared himself to me. He spent the day showing me that I’m safe with him. He deserves to know he’s safe with me too.
“I’d like to see the bedazzled penis now.”
A slow smile spreads across Brooks’s face. Still cradling my head with both hands, he tips forward and kisses me softly. “You’re insane, you know that?”
“Certifiable. Now take off your pants.”
“Sara—”
“Owns your penis,” I decree. “Now show it to me.”
His smile turns into a smirk, but he doesn’t make a move to obey. I splay my hands on his chest and slide down his body, taking my sweet time kissing him as I go.
“Have you done this before?” I ask between kisses down his abdomen.
Above me, he shakes his head and grunts.
I’m a riot of emotions. Excitement and pride and ecstatic shock. It culminates into an unfamiliar sense of power. Because this man has been saving himself for me. Hell, he pierced his penis rather than admitting the truth to his friends.
I unbuckle his pants and grin up at him. “If you aren’t going to help me, then you might as well get back to your ritual. Why don’t you visualize what’s about to happen? Ya know, give us a play-by-play. Maybe then you’ll score just like we both know you want to.”
“How is it that you can simultaneously drive me fucking insane and turn me on?”
“It’s a talent. Just wait till you see what I can do with my tongue.” I tug on his jeans roughly.
He laughs at my comment. It’s gritty. Dark. It scrapes through me with a delicious friction that makes me squeeze my legs together.
His navy-blue boxers are sculpted to him, putting every inch of his erection on display. From here, I think I might even see the outline of his piercing. Gliding my finger up his shaft slowly, I hum, memorizing every inch. My pussy clenches when I find the piercing. When I continue up, I hit another, then another. My breath catches, and excitement thrums through me. “Three?” I tip my head back and lick my lips at the vision that hits me.
“Fuck, Sar,” he grinds out, fisting his hands at his sides as if he’s trying to keep from touching me.
“I’m going to suck your cock. I’d appreciate it if you weren’t a saint right now. Touch me, Brooks. Be a good boy and grab a fist full of my hair and fuck my mouth.”
His cock bobs, stretching the already tight fabric of his boxer briefs taut.
My core throbs. “You like being called a good boy?”
His jaw locks, but his eyes are hazy with lust. I’m drunk on it.
Sliding my fingers beneath the fabric of his boxers, I revel in the feel of his hot skin. I pull them down and moan when his heavy cock finally makes its appearance. In the dim light, the three piercings that make up his Jacob’s ladder glisten in Bolts blue.
I try to hold back my smile but can’t. “You take your loyalty to the team seriously, I see.” I lick from the base of his balls right up to the tip and then press a kiss to where a bead of excitement has accumulated. The taste of him on my tongue pulls an appreciative hum from deep in my chest. “So good.”
Finally, he settles a hand on my head, his broad palm warm against my scalp.
I open my mouth and suck him in. Holding him there, I look up and smile around his dick. In this moment, I understand the phrase about a person having hearts in their eyes. Because that is precisely how Brooks is looking at me. Like I own his damn heart.
I tickle the piercings with my tongue, and he grunts. “Fuck. I need to move.”
Desire wells in me, and I moan around him. “Good. Then take control. Fuck my mouth,” I dare.
He closes his eyes, and I swear a switch flips. When he opens them again, he’s no longer looking at me like I’m a precious thing. Instead, his gaze is filled with nothing but feral need. The hand on my head snakes around until he’s got his fingers threaded through my hair. Then, with a grunt, he tugs and makes a fist.
“Squeeze my leg if it’s too much,” he warns.
Despite the way my body thrums with desire, my chest aches with affection too. I like that I’m the first person he’s experiencing these things with. That he’s worried about being too rough because he truly doesn’t know. I like experimenting together, but more than anything, I feel protective of him.
He’s worried about hurting me, but what he doesn’t know is that I like my sex rough. And I have a feeling that even though we all call him Saint, there’s a wicked part of him that’s been dying to come out.
Brooks has more restraint than most, but with this new information about his virginity, I’d bet just about anything that once he gets a taste, that restraint will snap. And I’m just the girl for him to lose it with.
The hard floor makes my knees ache, but damn if I don’t love the way he towers over me. He’s all strength and power, his thick cock sliding in and out of my mouth, causing me to gag every few thrusts, the metal rings rubbing against my tongue.
“You look so fucking good in my jersey, Sar.”
Eyes watering, I stare up at him, all while I continue to suck him off.
“But you’d look even better spread out on my bed. Or riding my face.”
I swirl my tongue along the edge of his shaft, right along his balls, eliciting a grunt from him. The sound sends my arousal kicking up a notch. Fuck, I’m already so wet for him. I cup his balls in one hand, grazing my thumb back and forth across them while I continue to work him over.
“Right there. Oh, fuck yes, Sar. I’m going to come if you keep doing that.”
My stomach dips and liquid heat drips from me. Determined to send him over the edge, I double down on my efforts. I suck harder, gripping the backs of his thighs so that he can’t pull away, forcing him to come down my throat.
He curses as his cock twitches in my mouth, and I moan around him. With one last lick, I drop back to my ass and grin up at him. And then, in my best announcer voice, with my hands cupped around my mouth, I whisper, “He shoots, he scores. And the crowd goes wild! Ahh!”
With a throaty laugh, he lifts me off the floor. Then he spins me and sets me on the table in front of the window. The kisses he places on my lips are soft, and so is the humming rumbling from him. But when he pulls back, there’s a wicked gleam in his eye.
With one brow lifted, he points toward a button.
I squirm, my pulse racing. “That what I think it is?”
When he presses the red button, it illuminates. And when he speaks this time, his voice echoes outside the booth. He’s turned on the audio system. That means his every word is booming through the speakers in the arena.
“Do me a favor, Sar.” He pops the button of my jeans and lowers the zipper. “Narrate every little thing I do. And everything you want me to do.”
With his fingers tucked into my waistband, he slides off my pants. “And if you stop…” He licks his lips and settles on his knees. Then he yanks me to the edge of the table. “I stop.”
