Rush: The Season (Austin Arrows Book 1)(85)

“We’ve got the rest of the night,” I tell her, pressing my lips to hers. “And I promise, we’ll make good use of all those minutes.”

“Promise?”

I smirk. I’ve never meant anything more.





33

Ellie

It’s extremely rare that I will go to a man’s house. Even rarer that I’ll bring a man to mine, so I guess this is one of those extremely rare occasions. Then again, Kingston is a rather special kind of guy, so I’m willing to break my own rules. I can always deal with the consequences tomorrow. Right now, I have other plans and they involve a big, sexy goalie. Naked.

After all, it’s temporary, right?

Not to mention, after that freaking orgasm in my office … I’d be completely insane to turn the guy down. I mean seriously f*cked up in the head. I’ve been with enough men to know that what Kingston does … with his tongue… Not all men know how to do that. For the sake of womankind, men should be required to take a class on cunnilingus so that there are more men like Kingston in the world.

And because I’m not willing to pass up the opportunity for at least one more mind-blowing orgasm—I wonder if it’s possible to die from too many orgasms? I don’t think so, but I’m more than willing to test the theory—I’m parking in Kingston’s circle driveway while he pulls his truck into the garage. Rather than race up to his front door and show how overly anxious I am, I sit in my car until he comes out. When I put my hand on the door handle, I realize it’s shaking. No doubt about it, I’m nervous. You’d think I was a virgin or something.

I’ve already had sex with the guy—twice—so it’s not first-time nerves. However, I can’t deny that there is something different about tonight. For the past few weeks, it’s been as though Kingston and I were solidifying our bond. We already know that sex between us is downright explosive, so I’m not sure what else is at play.

When I make it up to the porch, Kingston is waiting for me, his eyes blazing with heat, but there’s something else there, too. I can’t put my finger on it. When he leans down and presses his lips to mine gently, I nearly melt. It’s sweet and tender and has the same effect as that damn orgasm. My insides ignite and I’m ready to climb him.

Apparently he has other things in mind, because he takes my hand and leads me inside.

Here I’d been thinking we would end up naked in the entryway, maybe get it on right on the stairs. That’s not what happens, and now I’m a bit confused. It’s as though Kingston’s had time to think, and he’s altered the course of events.

“You want something to drink?” he offers.

“Sure.”

Kingston nods toward the couch, which, from what I can tell, is a nonverbal communication for me to have a seat. I wander that direction while he disappears into the kitchen.

For the record, I absolutely love Kingston’s house. I’ve been here on many occasions because he is my brother’s best friend. Bianca has spent many hours in his pool, I’ve chilled in his hot tub, we’ve had drinks, played card games… I’ve always enjoyed my time here.

As for the actual house… It’s stunning. There’s dark wood and sturdy, masculine furniture everywhere. The almost-white walls are a stark contrast to the cherry hardwood that flows throughout the house. The kitchen is a stainless steel masterpiece, and I happen to know that Kingston spared no expense when he had it designed. The man lives in his kitchen when he’s not on the ice.

The place feels the same as the last time I was here. Only this time, I’m alone with Kingston. In other words, Spencer isn’t here tonight. And I’m not here because of my brother.

Not entirely, anyway. The favor doesn’t count.

I plop onto the couch and grab the remote, hitting the button to see what Kingston last watched. I’m nosy like that. I do it to Bianca all the time.

No surprise, SportsCenter is on.

“What’re you doing?”

I turn my attention to Kingston as he moves across the room, carrying two wineglasses and a bottle. He smiles and I pat the cushion beside me. He sets the glasses on the table, pours the wine, then holds one out for me.

Not sure what he is up to, I decide to get more comfortable, so I toe off my boots, then take the glass from him as I ease back into the overstuffed, comfy cushions. When he sits beside me and pulls me closer, I settle against his side, his arm around my shoulders. He kisses my temple, then turns his attention to the television.

I notice the sound is muted, and since I didn’t do that, it means he probably wasn’t listening to it to begin with.

“I wanted to talk,” Kingston says, his voice soft, firm.

I can tell by his tone that we aren’t about to have a conversation regarding our little agreement—the one where he agrees to teach me some things in the bedroom. “About?”

It seems like an hour ticks by while I sip my wine and wait for him to speak. It’s probably more like seconds, but the tension is thickening, and I’m tempted to down my wine in one gulp.

“That woman’s name is Wendy Jacobsen,” he begins.

It takes me a minute to realize he’s referring to the incident from last season. The girl who blatantly lied.

“I don’t know her. The only time I met her was at a bar. She asked for a picture, so I posed for one. Her friend took it. I didn’t take her back to my hotel room, I didn’t go back to hers. I’d never met her before and never talked to her after. She literally said five words to me and that was it. I have no idea where her accusations came from, nor do I know what her angle was or is. And I still don’t get why she recanted or said that shit in the first place.”