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

Wings aren’t something I eat a lot, but when I do, honey garlic is my go-to. There are flavor combinations that don’t even make sense on here. Who wants to eat marshmallow wings? Not me. I do want to try something different though. Blaze has a way of doing that to me.

The waitress comes over to the table. “Have you guys decided?”

“Yeah, I’m going to get a basket of dill pickle wings, please.” I feel bold. Dill pickle wings? That’s borderline crazy.

“I’ll get the peanut butter and jelly wings,” Blaze tells her.

What the hell? That’s actual crazy.

“And two of whatever is on tap,” he adds.

Any other night, I’d give him a hard time about the beer. It’s not any other night though.

Blaze’s phone dings with a text. He glances at the screen and immediately shoves it back in his pocket.

“Anything important?”

“Nope. More of the same.”

“The Prissy-whipped thing?”

“Yup.”

He stares off. It seems like it might actually be getting to him. “You know what that makes me think of?” His lips tug up in the corner and his eyes twinkle.

“The Prissy-whipped thing? No, what?”

It makes me think of you in leather with a crop in your hand and boots so tall they brush against your pussy.”

“Blaze!” I glance around, but no one is sitting in earshot of us.

“I’m just saying, if you ever want to smack a crop across someone’s ass, you’ve got the name ready to go. Or do you want your ass spanked?”

I’ve never imagined being spanked before. It makes me fluttery inside, but I can’t tell if it’s from nerves or excitement. I imagine him pulling me over his knees. How his tattooed hand would feel striking my ass. I didn’t expect the idea to make me clench everywhere.

“You know, since you gave me the slip last time, we still have to discuss that whole tying-you-up thing.”

“Shhh.” I try to stop the words at his mouth, before they have a chance to paint my cheeks red. It isn’t embarrassment flushing my skin, only the stir I feel when I picture us doing those things. There’s something about him, about his wildness. It gives me glimpses into my own primal needs.

Needs that someone as shy in bed as me would never admit to having. Blaze has awoken a curiosity that I never realized I had about sex. There’s no thigh-high leather boots or whips in my immediate future. Still, there’s a lot of ground between my experiences and the BDSM lifestyle. For the first time in my life, I want to try some of those steps in between.

“Even if there were parts of that idea that I liked, we can’t hook-up here.”

His eyes burn. “No? Don’t want to get fucked in the toilet stall?”

Blaze has scrambled my brain. A couple months ago, I wouldn’t have considered it flattering for someone to want to have sex with me in a public restroom. Now, the idea of being fucked so publicly, with that much urgency, that never used to get me… I squeeze my legs together, but it doesn’t slow the spread of this ache.

“Not here.” I try to keep the whimper out of my voice.

Blaze drinks his beer, looking over the glass at me. He loves watching me squirm. I wish he wasn’t so good at it.

“I mean at the hotel.”

“No?” He answers cooly, slightly raising an eyebrow. “So you don’t want me to eat your pussy until you explode?”

I cross my legs and squeeze my thighs together. It’s so hard to stop seeing the way he looks. How the muscles across his shoulders and back look when he’s holding my legs open. How my entire body shudders with my orgasm when he sucks on my clit.

The toilet stall isn’t sounding so bad, not if I’ll feel his cock inside me. Not if he releases me from this ache. Before I can make any impulsive and illegal decisions, the waitress brings us two baskets of wings.

“All right, I’ve got the zesty dill.” She holds up my basket like she’s a human scale and Blaze’s food is heavier.

“That’s for me.” I breathe in the crazy scent and have a moment of doubt about this flavor choice.

“So, that leaves the peanut butter and jelly wings for you.” She sort of rocks back and forth when she hands off Blaze’s wings.

“Thanks.” His smile seems to make her flustered.

“The bucket at the end of the table is for the bones. You’ve got lots of hand wipes. Let me know if you need anything else.” She says it all to me, like she doesn’t trust herself to look his way anymore.

The waitress leaves, and Blaze digs right in.

It takes two bites to realize he’s right. These are the best wings ever. The beer was a good call too. Maybe I don’t need to hang on so tightly. Maybe it’s okay to embrace the chaos. I must be judging a book by its cover with the repulsive combination of chicken, peanut butter and jelly, because Blaze is fully inhaling his strange choice of wings.

I’m not quite ravaging mine like that, but I’m surprised how many I’ve eaten. Our bone bucket is filling up. “So good.” I suck the dill sauce off the bone before chucking it in the can.

“Don’t do that.” Blaze frowns.

“What?”

“You’re going to get me fucked up. My cock will get hard every time I eat chicken wings. Don’t suck on that, moaning about how good it is.”

“I was not moaning,” I whisper.

“Yeah? Well, I guess I don’t have to worry anyway. It’s really more of a chicken leg than a wing…” Blaze winks at me.

“Don’t say that.” It's time to make my own demands.

“Why?”

“Because, I don’t want to think about your dick the next time I get a craving for KFC.”

“But you do want to think about my dick, right. Like, inside you?”

Neither of us noticed our flustered waitress until she slides the bill onto the table. She looks mortified.

“I’ll get it.” Blaze takes out his wallet.

“No, I’ll pay for