Brutal Obsession (131)

A quickie wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

“Hey, MVP,” she greets me.

I wrap my arms around her, pressing my body to hers. Her eyes widen slightly at the feel of my erection, and I laugh. I feel… I don’t know. Lighter than a fucking feather.

I have her, I have hockey. I have another year at Crown Point University with her.

“You in my jersey is doing things to me,” I tell her.

She smirks. “I can tell. I didn’t get a chance to wear it when you first gave it to me, so…”

I kiss her. I can’t not kiss her. She lifts up on her toes, and her tongue slips along the seam of my lips. I open for her, letting her deepen it. She tastes like popcorn and beer. I cup the back of her head.

This isn’t helping my erection.

She finally settles back flat on her feet and gives me a wicked smile. “Maybe we should take a detour,” she offers. “The bathroom is over there.”

I find myself nodding before she even finishes talking. She leads me through the crowd, slipping past groups of people easily. I try not to get stuck, people tossing out congratulations for the MVP award, for the game, and Violet’s grip on my hand is unrelenting.

Nothing’s stopping her.

She pushes into the hotel lobby bathroom and goes straight to the handicapped stall. I raise my eyebrows as she locks us inside and shoves her leggings down.

I don’t need much more prompting than that. I undo my pants and push them down just far enough.

“Turn around,” I order. “Hands on the wall.”

My voice is fucking hoarse, but she does what I say. I grip her hips and kick her legs a little wider, then slide my hand down to feel how wet she is. My cock is harder than granite, but I ignore it for a second. Her cunt is wet for me, and she bites back a sigh when I brush her clit.

“Fuck me,” she demands.

I adjust my hold on her hips and slide into her. I grunt as her muscles clench at me. Fuck. I’m not going to last long at all. I’ve been looking forward to this since we left our bed this morning. I probably think about sex with her too much. I’m obsessive.

But I’m pretty sure she’s just as obsessed with me.

I lean forward and bite her shoulder through the jersey. She arches, tensing, and swears. It’s only then that I begin to move, thrusting in and out of her with powerful strokes. She lets out little gasps, trying not to make much noise.

The bathroom door opens. The sounds of everyone in the lobby slip through, then dull again when the door swings shut. Someone enters, going into one of the other stalls.

Violet looks at me over her shoulder, her expression… still fucking hungry.

I wink at her, but I don’t stop. She’s holding her breath, I think. Her face is turning red. My hand goes around her front, sliding down into her wetness to flick her clit. I rub it hard, just the way she likes it.

Her fingers grip the tile wall, her knuckles turning white. Her head falls back, and her mouth opens.

She’s going to break and say something. Gasp, whimper, moan. Anything.

The girl in the other stall is carrying on her business. Maybe she can hear us and is mortified. It’s a quiet bathroom, after all. Just the sound of her piss, and then the flush.

Violet uses that noise to cover her own sounds.

The water turns on at the sink. She takes a fucking eon to wash her hands. I increase my speed, both my finger on her clit and my cock pounding in her. I’m gonna fucking come before this chick leaves.

But then the door opens, the noise seeping back in, and swings shut.

Fucking finally.

It seems Violet was holding out for that moment, too, because her orgasm hits her a second later. I groan, her cunt squeezing around my dick enough to send me over the edge, too. I stop fully inside her. She pushes back against me, her ass meeting my hips, and we both stay like that for a minute.

I cup her jaw and turn her face. I kiss her fiercely, then pull out of her.

She lets out another little whimper that sets my heart on fire.

“That was fun,” I say.

Violet snorts. Her cheeks are pink. I hand her a wad of toilet paper, then take care of my own mess. When we’re both presentable, she unlocks the door and steps out. Washes her hands, presses her palms to her cheeks. She meets my eyes in the mirror.

“Do you think she heard?”

“Baby, don’t know if anyone would’ve been able to miss it.”

She freezes, then shakes her head. Can’t tell if I’m joking or not, I guess.

We catch up with everyone on the sidewalk. Steele gives me a subtle fist bump, and I grin. Violet ignores it—or misses it. Her friends swarm around her, walking ahead of us.

There’s just one last thing to deal with…

And he’s in Boston tonight.

Knox knows the plan. So does Steele. We decided to let Miles keep his innocence another year, but this is going to bond the three of us harder than any hockey game.

We’ve all agreed.

So we follow the girls to the club. We dance and nurse our beers, waving away offers for another round. Until my watch vibrates on my wrist at eleven o’clock. There are so many people in this place. It’s three stories of dancing bodies. But I clock Knox and Steele moving through the crowd.

I give them fifteen minutes, then I tap Violet’s hand and motion for her to follow me.