Against All Odds (Holt Hockey Book 2)
Against All Odds: Chapter 23

There’s a tremor in my hand as I shift into park and turn off Aidan’s truck.

Showing up at the hockey party was an impulsive decision, one I’d probably be regretting if it hadn’t ended up here. As soon as Isla texted me, I hoped this would happen.

But I braced myself to walk in and see Aidan kissing another girl. He wasn’t supposed to immediately focus all of his attention on me, then leave when I suggested I’d showed up for any other reason than him to avoid coming off as desperate.

Him kissing me in the yard tore apart the remaining shreds of my willpower.

I’m giving in. Having fun. Forgetting about consequences.

I want to have sex with him.

So I drove to the town landing that overlooks the Sound, the de facto make-out spot back when I was in high school. The parking lot is empty tonight.

“How scenic,” Aidan comments.

I huff a laugh as his headlights automatically shut off.

There are a few lamps lighting the perimeter of the parking area, but past the asphalt, all you can see is inky darkness. If the windows were down, we could hear the crash of waves across the shore, but it’s way too cold for that tonight. The heat that blasted through the vents during the drive here is already dissipating. Hopefully some remnants will last long enough to keep me from getting frostbite in unpleasant places.

“We’re not here for the view, Phillips.”

“No?” He didn’t ask any questions about our destination as I drove, just fiddled with the music and stared out the window.

“No.” I pull my top off, hoping Aidan doesn’t notice the way my fingers tremble as I do. Not from cold, from nerves.

All of this is new to me, which makes it thrilling…and terrifying.

I’ve kissed guys here before, but that was it. I’ve never had sex in a car, but I’m guessing he has.

Aidan’s eyes darken to the color of pines as he stares at my boobs. The shirt I was wearing is one of my favorites, but it cuts too low in the back to wear a bra with it.

I unbutton my jeans, then shimmy out of them in the least embarrassing way I can manage, considering they’re tight and there’s a steering wheel in the way.

And then I’m left in a pink lace thong, the most colorful, least practical pair of underwear I own.

Aidan slides his seat back as far as it’ll go, which makes me certain I was right and he’s hooked up in here before. The thought bothers me less than seeing him with the girl in the coffee shop did. He’s here with me, his expression so heated I’m no longer aware of the cooling air in the cab.

“Come here.” He spreads his legs and opens his arms, his voice a deep, commanding rumble that immediately gets me wet.

A steady buzz of excitement thrums through my veins as I climb across the center console. It goes about as gracefully as sliding out of my skinny jeans did, but my clumsiness seems irrelevant once I’m straddling his lap.

His hands immediately cup my breasts, his thumbs rubbing my nipples into sensitive points. I moan, rocking my hips harder into his as he leans forward and circles my left tit with his tongue. A flash of heat creeps across my chest.

“I fucking love your boobs,” he says, moving to the right one.

My eyes flutter closed as I dig my fingers into his soft hair, arching my back.

It feels so good. The graze of his teeth. The confident way he swirls his tongue. The ridge of his erection pressed right against my center.

Even the rub of lace against denim.

All of it mixes with the relief of having this decision made. Of jumping, and no longer worrying or wondering what the landing will look like. Just enjoying the fall.

No matter how Aidan and I end—if this mysterious attraction to him fizzles out in a week or a month, if the only times I see him after this are for his Stats tutoring—I know I won’t regret tonight.

I fully let go for the first time since I climbed into that hot tub, totally surrendering to him. My hands slip from his hair, tracing his neck and shoulders before sliding down his chest until I replace the hem of his shirt. The taut skin is a startling contrast to the soft cotton, his body heat searing directly into my skin.

His mouth releases my nipple and then his tongue slips back into my mouth like he’s dying for another taste, while his hands continue to massage my breasts.

I keep waiting for him to move things along faster. To unzip his jeans and just fuck me.

But he doesn’t.

Aidan continues brushing and teasing, running his fingers down the bumps of my spine. Covering the cheeks of my ass and grinding my pussy against the denim covering his erection. Palming and playing with my breasts until my nipples are aching, pointed and begging for more attention from his mouth. Fisting my hair, pulling the strands gently to the side as his tongue drags down the column of my neck.

I was wet before I climbed into his lap. I’m a quivering mass of need now, wearing nothing except a soaked thong. Humping and whimpering and panting, while he’s fully clothed and composed.

I could come from his hands running all over me, it feels like.

But I want more. I want him, and not this patient version.

I want the guy outside the bathroom at Gaffney’s. The guy who told me to “take it out.” The guy who tapped his chin.

Finally, I crack. “Please.”

“Please what, baby?”

That baby settles right between my thighs, adding to the ache there.

“I brought you here to have sex.”

He chuckles, low and the consistency of gravel. “Yeah, I figured that out.”

“So…” I move my hips again, urging him along.

Something shifts in his expression, but it’s not bright enough for me to tell what it is. “That’s what you’re looking for? A quick fuck?”

Yes seems like both the right and wrong answer.

“I need more,” I tell him instead, grabbing his hand and guiding it where I want his fingers.

Aidan grunts when he reaches the drenched lace, his Adam’s apple bobbing. One finger slips beneath my underwear and pushes inside of me, then it’s two. I cry out, not even caring how loud I am. This time, there’s no one around to hear it. It’s like being back in the Colorado woods.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

I whimper as his fingers work, bearing down on his hand as hard as I can. Reach down and tug the hem of his Henley up as far as it’ll go, gently grazing my fingertips against the bruise on his side. It’s faded some, but still appears purple and painful.

“You never responded to the photo I sent,” he says.

“I was too busy getting myself off to it.”

The look of pure shock on his face makes me laugh. He seems cocky enough to consider I’ve fantasized about him, so I’m guessing his surprise is more me admitting it. The impulsive confession startled me too, but I don’t play it off. I want him to know this isn’t a lapse. That I’ve been thinking about this as much as he has. Maybe more.

Shock ebbs away into pure heat. “Show me,” he demands, lifting my hips off his lap.

My knees are spread on either side of his legs, his broad thighs holding mine open. His eyes are on my center, a secret spot no one else has ever inspected so hungrily, making me squirm with a mixture of arousal and vulnerability. He’s still fully dressed, so I’m the only one exposed. But it’s exciting, too, since Aidan’s often casual and relaxed. I imagine the intense focus on his face is how he looks on the ice, beneath the barrier of his helmet’s cage.

Slowly, I lift my hand and touch my clit. It doesn’t feel the same as when he was the one rubbing me, but the approval in his expression is thrilling. He watches my fingers move like he’s memorizing each motion.

Aidan’s expression becomes more strained with each passing second, the tendons in his neck fully visible. And then he’s ripping his fly down and reaching inside his jeans. Wrapping a thick hand around his cock, the tendons in his arms flexing as he strokes himself. I watch his erection grow until he’s fully hard, swollen and thick.

I gasp, my fingers moving faster.

“You close?” he asks.

I nod. Then nod again.

I could come right now, easily. I’ve never done this before—touched myself in front of a guy. The thrill is exciting and erotic, but I fight the pleasure.

I’m holding back, not wanting to come until it’s around his cock.

His hand is moving slower than mine, slow tugs as he stares at me. “Look how hard I am for you.”

Jesus. And he thinks my mouth is distracting.

I scooch back as far as I can go, which is not far, so I can maneuver enough to pull my thong off. The material is flimsy enough to barely be in the way, but I don’t want any barrier.

Aidan reaches past me, opening the glove compartment. When he leans back against the seat, there’s a foil wrapper in his hand. He tears the condom open with his teeth, pinches the tip, then rolls the rubber down his huge erection.

Maybe if we hadn’t already hooked up once, the size of his cock would be more daunting.

But I know it’ll fit. Remember how incredible it felt when it did.

I lean forward and kiss him, new nerves appearing as anticipation mixes with arousal. He guides the fat tip to my opening, grunting when he feels the slickness that’s evidence of how worked up I am. It’s practically dripping down my thighs. I shiver when I feel him there, hot and thick. But he doesn’t push into me, just drags the head back and forth through the wetness.

My head falls into the crook of his neck, breathing heavily as I inhale his delicious, masculine scent. Everything about Aidan is so male, the muscles I’m touching and the dick about to enter me, and it incites all these primal desires inside of me.

The steady beat of Aidan’s heart pounds against my palm, rhythmic and reassuring. He’s a hot, experienced guy. But he’s also a human, just like me. Flesh and bone and blood, with insecurities and fears.

I press my lips against the hot skin just beneath his jawbone. “I might be bad at this,” I whisper.

“Bad at what?”

“This.” I sink down, both of us groaning when he slips in an inch.

“You’re not bad at this.” His tone says not to argue, so I stay silent. “Rylan. Who told you that you were bad at sex?”

“It’s more that no one told me I was good at it.”

Aidan’s silent for a moment. Then he says, “I’m a few seconds from coming just from thinking about being back inside of you. I’ve jacked off thinking about that night in Colorado for weeks. Whatever some guy told you—or didn’t—it says a lot more about him than you. Sounds like he couldn’t handle you.”

“And you can?”

I know he can. He has.

He smirks. “Fuck around and replace out, Rye.”

I’m totally unprepared for how it feels—sinking down. How he spreads and stretches me. How he fills me after the sweet eternity it takes for my body to readjust to his size.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

I exhale, the warmth of Aidan’s hands on my hips spreading through my entire body. His praise heating me just as much.

“Look at you taking me.” He sounds so proud.

I’m panting. I can feel him expanding inside of me, the sting of the first couple of strokes almost painful. But it’s drowned out by everything else I’m experiencing. By the satisfaction of having sex with him.

He fucks me with slow, shallow strokes. We both watch as his hips flex, working his cock in and out of me.

Turns out I didn’t have to worry about the heat in the truck. It feels like my entire body is on fire.

Aidan’s hands slide up my back, tangling into my hair and tugging on the strands. Something I never realized I loved until the first time he did it. The spark of pain amplifies the pleasure. His lips are back on mine, his tongue tracing my lips gently before he nips my bottom one. Then he’s demanding entrance, licking inside my mouth.

I forget how to breathe.

He’s everywhere, making each nerve sing. I barely remember to continue moving my hips, the biological urge to feel the friction of his dick dragging inside of me overriding everything else. I grind down as hard as I can, and then my climax hits me with the force of a tsunami. My entire body quakes as I tighten around his cock. I can’t see or hear or think. I just feel, drowning in a pool of pleasure.

Aidan coming is the sexiest sight I’ve ever seen. His features tighten, the same pinched expression he wore when he was in bed icing his bruise. Except this time, his face slackens a few seconds later. He fucks me through the aftershocks shuddering through my body, a mixture of masculine grunts and swear words spilling out of his mouth. And then he slumps against the passenger seat, his eyes still hooded and his breathing as fast and rapid as mine as he runs a hand through his hair, mussing up the strands even more than I did.

Neither of us moves, staring at each other. The truck is silent aside from our breathing, the scent of sex lingering in the air.

He’s still inside of me, half-hard.

I’m not sure I can move. My entire body feels like a wrung-out sponge.

“It’s snowing,” Aidan says gruffly, glancing away.

I look out the window, remembering there’s a world outside of this truck.

Sure enough, snow is coming down from the sky steadily, backlit by the lights surrounding the parking area. It’s already coated the asphalt of the parking lot, covering the faded lines and the cracks with a fluffy sheet. Collected on the light posts that line the edge.

It’s a beautiful sight. Ethereal. Mesmerizing.

I look at him.

Aidan isn’t watching the snowfall.

He’s staring at me with a small smile curving up the corners of his mouth. When our eyes meet, he reaches forward and brushes a piece of hair away from my face, tucking it carefully behind one ear.

“We should go before the roads get too bad,” he says softly.

I nod. “Yeah. We should.”

There’s a lurch low in my stomach when his gaze stays on mine. He doesn’t look at the snow. At my naked body or the spot where we’re still connected. He just studies my face, like he doesn’t want to look away. Like he wants to stay in this special moment as much as I do.

And it feels like I’m falling as fast as the flakes around us.