The Goal (Off-Campus #4)(9)

Instead, I run my fingertips across his beard, from one side of his jaw to the other. “Soft,” I murmur.

His eyes darken and grow so full of lust that it’s hard to breathe. And then he grabs me, tired of waiting and tired of talking.

Our mouths slam together. He tangles a hand in my hair and I’m not sure if it’s to get a better angle or provide more leverage for the force of his invasion. Either way, his tongue is making me feel magical things downstairs. I’m forgetting why I almost turned him down.

I mean, tall, hot, dark auburn hair, scruffy beard? Why did I even hesitate? Oh, that’s right. Because he’s a hockey player.

Tearing my mouth away, I pant, “Just for the record, I hate hockey players. This is a one-time-only deal.”

He sweeps my hair to the side to expose my throat. “Noted. I won’t even remind you of this when you’re begging me for a second round.”

Laughing, I grab his head and hold it against me as he tongues his way down my throat to the tops of my breasts. “Never happening.”

“Don’t tie yourself to absolutes. It makes it easier to back away. More graceful.”

His words are somewhat muffled as he buries his face in my cleavage. A callused hand pulls at my shirt, and then I hear a frustrated growl when the neckline doesn’t lower enough to give him access to what he wants.

Good thing our needs are aligned. I reach between us and yank my sweater off, and his mouth latches on to my nipple before I can get my bra undone. When I reach around to undo the clasp, his hands bat mine away.

My laugh at his eagerness dies in my throat as his palm closes around one bare breast. I arch into his rough caress. Oh gosh, it’s been way, way too long. As Tucker’s mouth gets busy sucking on one puckered nipple, his fingers pinch and tease the other one.

He’s good at this. He knows how deep to suck, how hard to bite, how tender to kiss, and despite the rod in his pants, he acts like he could do this nipple-sucking deed all night long.

I rock my lower body over his erection, fumbling to push my skirt out of the way so I can really feel him. I want it off, damn it. I want his naked body rubbing against mine. I want him inside me.

I want it all.

I fish for the bottom of his T-shirt. He offers me zero assistance, because he’s too intent on my breasts right now. I find the hem and pull it hard. Only then does he separate from me, and the cool air in the truck causes my nipples to tighten even more.

“I don’t need more foreplay,” I tell him as I drag his shirt up over his head.

Oh God, muscle alert. Lots and lots of tight, smooth, rippled muscles glide beneath my palms. Gotta love athletes.

His hands tunnel under my skirt. “Is that right?”

There’s nothing graceful about the way his fingers shove aside my thong, and there’s no warning when he thrusts two of them inside of me. It’s dirty and so hot. Air whistles between my teeth as I inhale sharply.

“Like that, do you?” he murmurs.

“It’s okay,” I lie, and am immediately punished when he withdraws. “Fine. It feels good.”

He withdraws again and uses his now wet fingers to lightly circle my clit. My entire body strains and clenches and screams for more.

“Just good, huh?” he taunts.

I give in. “Great. It’s great.”

“I know.” He looks smug. “I hate to tell you this, Sabrina. But you’ve made a big mistake.”

“What? Why?”

His fingers draw my thong tight, the fabric cutting into my swollen lips. “Because I’m going to ruin you for all future guys. I apologize in advance.”

Then he jerks the fabric aside and slams three fingers in. The graphic rawness of it comes as a giant shock. I can feel it—him—everywhere. Even down to my toes. A wave of excitement crashes over me. Holy shit, he’s making me come. Is that even possible?

I stare at him open-mouthed, and he grins back, white teeth against his tanned skin and his beard, fully aware he’s blowing my mind. His fingers move again, two of them rubbing against that spot that hardly anyone ever finds but me.

And he keeps rubbing it as he jacks his fingers inside me. And I keep coming. I let my head fall back and my eyelids fall closed and I give myself over to the pleasure that spirals up and through my body until I’m one shuddering mass of sensation.

When I drop back to Earth, I find myself lying against his chest, gasping for air. I’ve never come this hard in my life, and the guy hasn’t even been inside me yet. My heart is pounding insanely fast, and my sluggish mind is having a hard time keeping up.

He’s just a guy. A normal guy, I remind myself. One dick and two balls. This is nothing special.

“I haven’t had sex in a while,” I mumble as my breathing starts to normalize. “I’ve been super stressed. My body really needed a release.”

Three long fingers flex inside me. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, darlin’.”

There’s smug amusement in his voice, but the guy just fingered me to orgasm (which never happens to me), so I guess I can’t blame him. He drags the pads of his fingers along my sensitive nerve endings as he withdraws, pulling another involuntary shudder out of me.

Between us, his hand rises and the wetness shines on his fingers even in the dark cab of his truck. I’m not prepared for the shock of arousal that hits me when he sucks them clean.