BLAZE: Enemies to Lovers College Hockey Romance by Eddie Cleveland (ebook reader macos .txt) 📕

“This is where you live?” I let out a low whistle. They must be paying her well to keep me out of trouble. “I’ll walk you to your door, you lush.”

“Oh please, I’m fine. You drank way more than me.”

I don’t listen to her, of course. I get out and ask the driver to give me a second. He’s fine with it, so I lead her up the cobblestone path, and she stops in front of a row of townhouses. All of them are made of brick and have big windows.

“Fancy.”

“It’s a nice neighborhood,” Prissy agrees. She looks out into the darkness at the peaceful little road. “I had fun.” She smiles up at me.

“Me too. I’ve got a confession to make.” I step in.

“What?”

“I don’t really think you’re too drunk to walk over here.”

“No, I’m not,” she starts, but I cut her off.

“I just wanted to do this.” I grab her and kiss her. Not like at the bar. This is private, intimate and slow.

She blinks up at me, both of us only speaking in cloud puffs from the cold air.

“I forgot to give you your gift,” she murmurs, digging out her phone.

“Really? What is it?”

Prissy fires off a message and grabs my hand. The driver pulls away from the curb and disappears up the street.

“Me.”

11

Pull-Cord Cock Blaze

Kissing her is my instant addiction I’ve got no will to break. Even as she fumbles, reaching behind her for the handle, her lips never leave mine. I slide my hand from her cheek to the back of her head until my fingers are lost in her hair. We roll against the doorframe, the wall guiding us inside the house. It’s dark inside and only gets darker when I shove the door shut. Holding her jaw in my hand, I pin her against the wall and kiss her like she’s mine.

Prissy finally breaks her swollen lips free. That knowing sparkle dancing in her dark eyes, it’s just about making me fucking crazy. “Let’s go to my room,” she whispers.

She unzips her coat, tossing it toward a hook on the wall without looking. Under different circumstances, I’d be impressed that she got it. When my cock is surging against my fucking zipper, begging for release, I don’t give a fuck. I want to cover her naked body with mine. I want to feel her pussy tighten and see how red her cheeks turn when she cums. I remove my coat and kick my boots off. One of them hits the wall with a loud thud.

“Shhh.” She presses her finger into her lips… lips I’d like to feel against my shaft as I slide my cock into her mouth inch by inch. “You’ll wake her up.” Prissy’s eyebrows pinch together quickly, and her eyes dart over my shoulder.

“Who?”

“My…” She sorta stares off for a moment. “My roommate. Obviously, I can’t afford this place myself.”

It’s dark as fuck, but my eyes are pretty much adjusted. When I bother to take a look around, it’s clear that this place has been decorated with more class and money than I’m used to. Then again, I live with a bunch of guys who think beer can pyramids and wall posters are art. I’m used to slumming it on futons and Ikea sofas.

Prissy’s sofa is classy with its rounded arms and the billion copperhead tacks pinning the fabric to the frame. It looks sturdy too, like it wouldn’t collapse if I fucked her on it. I’ve got half a mind to strip her down and bend her over it. To hell with her roommate. A little peep show wouldn’t kill her. If she’s still up, sneaking around in the darkness at this hour, she’s probably hoping for one.

“I’ll try to keep it down,” I murmur.

“Well, don’t keep everything down,” she teases.

“Not an issue.” I walk her back and kiss her against the wall. My cock throbs almost painfully against my zipper. I grind into Prissy, letting her feel for herself.

Prissy’s lips tug up into a sexy smile. It stirs me. An ache pulses through my veins. A beast awakens in my soul. She must see it in my eyes. The hunger. Wordlessly, Prissy grabs my hand and leads me upstairs.

Her room smells nice, like flowers mixed with grapefruit or something. Figuring it out isn’t exactly my top fucking priority. Even when she turns on the lamp beside her bed, I don’t want to waste my time looking around. Yeah, I see the overflowing bookcase, and, yeah, I notice the curtains are gray, but I’m almost pissed off that my eyes registered any of it. Prissy is all I want to breathe, touch or taste.

She hides all evidence of us behind the safety of her bedroom door. The way she was so careful to close it quietly makes me feel like Prissy lives in a monastery. I lift her from the floor, kissing the yelp from her lips before it has a chance to form. Hector House has seen more hook-ups than a brothel, and no one cares about the noise. Hell, half the time it’s a courtesy if any of us actually fuck in our rooms. As soon as her fluffy blanket brushes against my leg, I drop her down on the bed. Prissy bounces backward with a laugh.

“Ohhh, is this an upgrade?”

“A what?”

Prissy sits back on her legs. She’s not quite kneeling, but my mind goes there just the same.

“The bed toss, that’s different from last time. I thought you had a schtick or whatever you want to call it. Maybe that’s the wrong word. I mean like the movie Groundhog Day, but for hook-ups. You know, like, always pick up the same kind of girl. Always use the same lines. Then, always fuck them the same way.” She ticks the points off on her fingers.

I thought she’d have more, but she stops and meets my eyes at three. Her knees disappear into her blanket as