The Fake Out: a fake dating hockey romance (Vancouver Storm Book 2)
The Fake Out: a fake dating hockey romance: Chapter 31

HAZEL LOOKS like she wants to sink into the floor as she heads to the front door, and I’m sitting here on her bed, hard as fuck and torn about what to do.

I said it would complicate things, but I meant once would never be enough.

The second we sleep together, Hartley’s done with me.

We have something. I know we do. I think about her telling me she was proud of me after my game and the way she laughed with me at the team party.

And now she’s wearing the lingerie I sent her, looking like a goddess sent to tempt me? After she admitted that the gift I got her made her feel hot, hitting the brakes was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. She looked like mine, wrapped in pale blue lace that I bought.

Possessive instincts charge through me. We’re not moving on yet, though. No fucking way.

So I lied, and now she’s hurt, and there’s an ache in my chest that only grows by the second. My mouth opens to say something, but she lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Rory, please.” Her expression is vulnerable like in the gym the day she met with Connor and asked me to give her space. “I don’t want to talk about it. Don’t make me feel worse. I know you date women who look different—”

“What?” I’m on my feet, moving to her. “What are you talking about?”

Two pink patches appear on her cheeks, and she won’t meet my eyes. “I’m just saying that compared to the women who usually date hockey players,” she waves a hand over her body, “I look different. I have a normal body. I’m okay with it, and I love my body, but you don’t need to drive the stake deeper.”

“Hazel.” Her eyes go wide as I back her against the door, pressing a hand to the surface over her head, caging her in. Blood beats in my ears.

How could she think that? How could she think she’s anything less than perfect? How could I let her think that? Since I ran into her last year, I haven’t touched another woman. Next to her, no one’s as funny or hot or interesting or entertaining.

My fingers circle her wrist and I bring her hand to my erection, watching her eyes flare with heat.

“Does that feel like I’m not interested?” I demand, and her hand twitches on my cock, making my balls ache with need. “Does that feel like I don’t think about your body a hundred times a day?”

Her lips part, and I capture her mouth. She kisses me back hard, and relief sweeps through me, followed by intense need.

I’m going to show Hazel how wrong she is. I’m going to worship every inch of her.

Once will never, ever be enough, though.

So maybe we don’t go all the way. Maybe I draw it out, take it slow, and never, ever give her enough, so by the time we finally have sex, she doesn’t give a shit about her rule anymore.

Maybe I wait until she falls for me.

“I’m mad at you,” I tell her, breaking the kiss, and her eyes widen, confused and outraged.

“What? Why?”

“Because I’ve practically had my tongue down your throat for months, and you still think I’m not interested.” I press my hips against hers, pinning her to the door. “Maybe I need to be more clear, Hartley.”

Interest rises in her eyes. “What did you have in mind?”

“This rule of yours.” I trail my fingers down her chest, brushing over her bra, over her tight nipples beneath it, and she sucks in a sharp breath. “Tell me the specifics.”

I draw slow, soft circles on her breasts, and beneath my fingers, her chest rises and falls faster.

“Um.” She blinks like she’s having a hard time focusing, and I press my erection harder between her legs. Her lips part, and I smile.

“Full sex?” I prompt. “Me inside you? That’s the rule?”

She nods, gaze clouding as she sinks her teeth into that full bottom lip.

“So if I were to go down on you, that wouldn’t count.”

She mumbles something.

“What’s that?” I lean in, and my mouth tips up.

“I said no one’s gone down on me in a long time.” She bristles with irritation, and I smile wider.

Possessive feelings course through my veins. It’s wrong, but I like that. I like that I’m going to be the one to make her feel good.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she adds.

Something in her face tells me she thinks it’s a really good idea, though. She wants this, she just doesn’t know how it fits in with her stupid rule.

“And why is that?”

“A guy like you doesn’t go down on women.” Her eyes dart around before her gaze lifts to mine, flickering with curiosity and reluctance. “It would be a waste of time.”

My smile curls higher. “Really?”

Her throat works. “And you wouldn’t know how to make me come.”

My mind was already made up, but a switch flips inside me, and the game is on. “You think so? You sure about that?”

She arches a brow, still looking uncertain but clinging to that cool demeanor she wears like armor. “No one’s ever made me come like that.”

She’s so cute, and by the time we’re done tonight, she’s going to be screaming my name.

“How about a friendly wager, Hartley?”