Rush: The Season (Austin Arrows Book 1)(77)

When Kingston pulls free from my mouth, I wait to see what his plans are. I can’t help but smile, anticipating his next move. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on in my life.

“Turn around,” he instructs. “Put your hands on that seat.”

I turn around, still on my knees, and put my forearms on the seat directly across from him. I glance over my shoulder to see him ripping open a condom, then sheathing himself quickly. Kingston pushes my legs apart, and my knees scrape against the carpet, but I don’t care about the rug burn. I simply want what he’s so willing to give me.

His fingers slide my thong to the side, and then the thick head of his cock is pushing into me. I suck in air, relaxing so my body will stretch to accommodate him.

“Oh, f*ck yes,” he groans.

When he’s seated fully inside me, his solid body covers mine, his chest against my back, his fingers linking with mine, his lips gliding along my jaw.

He feels so damn good.

“So tight, Ellie.”

Kingston begins a slow thrust and retreat, taking his time the same way I did a few minutes ago. He knows what he’s doing, sending me higher and higher. I can’t hold back the moans, the urgent pleas for more. I figure the driver probably hears us, but I don’t care. This feels so good nothing else matters.

“Heaven,” he growls against my ear. “Being inside you is f*cking heaven.”

“More,” I plead. “Please … Kingston … more.”

“Harder?” he asks, punctuating his question with a brutal thrust of his hips, filling me completely.

“Yes!”

He continues, his hips pumping faster, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he slams into me. My entire body is humming as he f*cks me.

“I want to feel you come on my cock,” he mumbles against my ear. “You like it hard and fast?”

“Yes… Oh, God, yes…”

The heat of his chest disappears from my back, and his hands move to my hips. His fingers dig into my sensitive flesh as he drives into me over and over, faster, deeper, harder. It’s more than I can take. The sensations are exquisite. Heat coils low, and an electrical current begins to radiate outward to all my limbs.

“Oh … oh, yes…” Kingston takes me hard and fast, driving me right to the razor-sharp edge, where I hover for long seconds before… “Kingston! I’m…” I can’t even get the words out because I’m spiraling out of control, my mind and body obliterated by pleasure.

“Come for me, Ellie.” His hips slam into me again and again.

And I do exactly that. My muscles lock as my climax races through me, leveling me with an intensity I never expected.

From behind me, Kingston roars his release, and I know without a doubt that whatever it is we’re doing here … whatever arrangement we might’ve had … this thing between us is taking a dangerous turn, and at this point, I don’t think there’s any going back.

At least not for me.





30

Tuesday, November 15th

Kingston: Did you watch the game tonight?

Ellie: Of course! You were freaking amazing. Congrats on the shutout!

Kingston: Thanks. I wish you were here.

Ellie: Yeah? Why’s that?

Kingston: Because I’m lying in my bed thinking about you.

Ellie: What are you thinking about?

Kingston: How f*cking hot you are naked.

Ellie: Such a sweet talker you are.

Kingston: I try.

Ellie: Well, if I’m being honest, I wish I was there, too.

Kingston: What would you be doing to me if you were?

Ellie: Is this what they refer to as sexting?

Kingston: Possibly. Depends on whether you elaborate or not.

Ellie: I’ve never done this before.

Kingston: There’s a first time for everything.

Ellie: Well … I’d start by… Nope. Can’t do it. It’s creepy because there are customers sitting here staring at me.

Kingston: Understood. Maybe one of these days you can come to a game and stay in the hotel with me.

Ellie: I’d like that. (A lot)





31

Kingston

Friday, November 18th

“I think some of you pretend not to know this, but you each have a verified Twitter account. Some of you, I might add, have a rather hefty following.” Evan Dunbar, the director of social media, stares into all the blank faces.

When Coach originally informed us that we’d be sitting in for a meeting regarding social media, the consensus was grim. No one wants to be here right now. We’re coming off a relatively decent last few games, and the only thing I want to do is go home and relax for a while. I can only assume that the team is in agreement. Instead, we’re sitting here while Evan tells us shit we already know.

Whatever the choice in activity, it damn sure isn’t sitting here and listening to Evan spout off about how we need to be more visible on Facebook.

Instead of retaining the details of his conversation, I’m imagining myself at the Penalty Box, having a few beers with the guys, spending some time with my girl.

The thought makes me smile.

Unfortunately, it’s merely a fantasy at this point because the guy can’t seem to find his off button. Hell, half the guys are snoring and they aren’t even trying to hide it. I feel their pain. So what if we have Twitter accounts. Or Instagram. Or Facebook. Or any of those other things where people post too damn much information about themselves.