Hot as Puck(45)

I have no idea how the girls are going to react to me showing up with six feet three inches of hot hooking hockey player on my arm, but I’m imagining it’s not going to be a calm and collected affair.

“Just be super sweet to Edna,” I whisper as Justin and I make our way up the cobbled walkway in front of Edna’s adorable craftsman bungalow. “And don’t ask too many questions. The newbies are already driving her crazy. Hannah had to be shown how to cast on four different times last week.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to, Libs?” Justin rolls a crochet hook from his messenger bag around one finger like a gunslinger spinning a revolver. “This isn’t my first time at the crochet rodeo. I’m a fucking professional. A seasoned pro.”

I snort. “Is this the same seasoned pro who nearly had a breakdown working a garden trellis afghan pattern last year and called me at midnight on Christmas Eve to come over and untangle his mess?”

“That pattern was hairy as balls, Collins.” Justin points his hook accusingly my way. “And it was for my mother’s Christmas present. I wanted it to be fucking perfect, okay?”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” I ask, lifting a wry brow.

“Not lately, but I may have kissed you once or twice.”

Before I realize he’s making a move, Justin pulls me off the path into the shadows of a giant camellia bush and crushes his lips to mine. And even though I know I should tell him to stop—I don’t want anyone in my circle to get the wrong idea about the nature of our relationship—I can’t help but kiss him back. It’s like the moment his tongue sweeps into my mouth, I lose all capacity for rational thought and turn into a simmering, bubbling, steaming caldron of happy sex hormones.

I wrap my arms around his neck and press tight against his hard chest and think salacious thoughts about how delicious he looks naked and wonder why on earth I didn’t call in sick to knitting circle and keep him clothes-less in my bed all night.

Because you’re not ready for real sex, right? Or so you keep telling yourself.

I would argue that your perpetually damp panties tell a different story, Collins…

“God, I want to eat you alive,” Justin growls against my lips between kisses. “You taste so good.”

“I’ve been thinking about last night all day,” I confess, fresh arousal surging through me as Justin’s fingers dig into my bottom through my pants, pulling my hips closer to where he’s thicker than he was a moment ago. “And how incredible you taste. I want to kiss you there again tonight, but this time I want you to finish in my mouth.”

“Are you trying to kill me?” He nips my bottom lip as I pulse my hips closer to his erection, amazed that he can get me this keyed up so quickly. “You are, aren’t you?”

I laugh, a husky sound that becomes a soft gasp as Justin captures my nipple through my dress. “Stop it.” I cover his hand with mine but lack the will power to push it away. “No nipple touching in public.”

“Oh, but you can talk about sucking my cock and grind on me through our clothes until I’m so crazy I’m ready to take you under this bush?” He kisses me again, drawing me closer to the camellia. “Come on, Libs. Let’s sixty-nine under this bush for a while before we go inside.”

I giggle again. “Gross. No.”

“Worried about mud on your clothes?”

“I’m worried about being arrested for public indecency.” I bring my hands to his chest and fist my fingers in his soft blue sweater. “Come on, let’s get inside. We’re already running late.”

“I need five more minutes of dirty talk in the dark.”

“The sooner we get inside, the sooner we can make our excuses for leaving early and head back to my place,” I say, walking my fingers up to his neck to weave into his soft hair. “And the offer to stay the night still stands, as long as we get to sleep by ten and you let me out of bed at five forty-five to get dressed for work.”

“Done.” He releases me with a final squeeze of my bottom. “I have to be at practice at seven anyway. It’s allegedly optional, but after my crap ass performance at practice last week, I know coach expects me to be there.”

“But you had an amazing game.” I straighten my clothes, doing my best to look like I haven’t been making out in Edna’s bushes.

“One amazing game. I’m not out of the woods yet.” He takes my hand, threading his fingers through mine as we start up the path. “Though, I think those dirty texts were my good luck charm on Tuesday. You should sext me during the game on Saturday, and we can test my hypothesis.”