Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 93683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“Like Ace Of Base sings, Gillybean, ‘Always Have, Always Will’.”
Light laughter is attached to a small headshake. “You literally have a song for everything, don’t you, Jukes?”
“Without a doubt,” escapes between my own chuckles. “It’s my second language.”
Thankfully the tension in the air begins to dissipate, a truth seen courtesy of her twitching fingers stilling and stiff spine comfortably relaxing.
Reminds me of the boys when I stop a shot despite having no help on defense.
If we were on the ice, stick taps to my pads would be next.
“What…um…” she slightly shifts her curvaceous figure in my direction, “what do you think?”
“That’s easy.” My position matches hers. “Sex is like coffee. Some people don’t like it at all or unfortunately, only feel obligated to have it. Some people prefer it black or plain. Some people want it with everything in it. Some want it scalding hot. Others want it warm or need it frozen. None of it’s right or wrong, Gillybean. Just preference.” A bashful beam begins to grow prompting me to add, “It only matters to the one drinkin’ it or who they’re tryin’ to drink it with.”
An impish glimmer glosses over her brown graze. “You know a song about coffee?”
“Gramps would turn in his grave if I didn’t at least mention ‘Cup of Coffee’ by Johnny Cash, but my own soul might wither and die if I didn’t say ‘Black Coffee’ by the First Lady of Song herself.”
“You’re a fan of Ella Fitzgerald?!”
“The fact you knew her by her nickname simply further proves you’re meant for me.” The waggling of my eyebrows gets her blushing again, yet this time in the shade I prefer. “Now, you tell me, Gillian.”
Hearing her full name noticeably causes her to shift.
“You like toys?”
“Alone?” Confidence remains tucked away. “Yeah.”
“And with someone else?”
“Idontknow.”
“Alright.” An innocent shrug bounces my shoulders. “Let’s figure it out.”
“What?!”
“Jus’ like we’ve been doin’, Gillybean. We’re gonna figure out what you like.”
She quickly shakes her head before countering, “Why don’t we just do what you like and see if I like it too?”
“I’m a pleaser.” The statement stuns her quiet. “I get off on pleasin’.” Sliding my hand across her thigh seems to hitch her breath. “The more pleased you are from gettin’ what you want, the more satisfied I am.”
“Meaning?” escapes at a whisper.
“You wanna be punished and called a dirty little slut? Then I’m right there, willin’ and ready to put you over my lap and do just that.” Another small gasp is taken. “You wanna be praised and pampered? Then I’m willin’ and ready to tell you how amazin’ somethin’ feels and kiss you all over in between.”
“I think I’d like that…”
“I think you would too…” My cock begins to thicken in my pants once more. “But jus’ ‘cause it’s what you want one night doesn’t mean it’s gotta be what we do every night, Gillybean.” Her fingers brush the side of mine at the same time I look for acknowledgement. “Understood?”
She dazedly nods.
“Why don’t we clean the ice? Start fresh?”
Fear immediately blitzes through her expression. “You wanna call it a night already?”
“No,” the hand on her leg moves to warmly cup her cheek, “I jus’ don’t wanna go from warmies to the final minute of the game.”
“Okay,” bashfully creeps out.
“Let’s get into our first shift before decidin’ the next, aye?” My thumb gingerly traces her bottom lip. “Can you get naked for me, baby?” Reluctance is the first response I see, one that pushes me to pre-emptively praise, “Can you let me see how beautiful you are wearin’ nothin’ but that smile that gets me blocker hard?”
“It does not,” she sassily shoots down.
Without hesitation, I relocate her palm to my crotch, pleased – yet again – when a sharp gasp is stolen.
Cockily smirking is attached to my repeated request, “Can you be a good girl and strip for me?”
Shaking more than a rookie fresh out of college at his first official NHL pracky, Gilly takes to her bare feet in front of me, stare stubbornly pinned on them, so much anxiety flowing from her system that I’m tempted to call it game already.
But I won’t.
She needs this.
I can feel it.
I can feel it just like a bass line bubbling just beneath the opening notes of a classic song.
“Look at me,” comes out as I lean back onto my palms. “Look at me like I don’t own you.”
The command has her gaze finding mine.
“Like I’m not here to change you in any way.”
A coyish grin threatens her expression. “You serenading me, Jukes?”
“I’m remindin’ you,” I continue to melodically speak, “to live life the way that you want.” Seeing a puck sized worth of confidence skating through her system convinces me to add, “To say and do and be whoever you fuckin’ please.”
Rather than say another word, I lightly hum the tune that was way ahead of its time.