Darkroom: A Moo U Hockey Romance Kate Willoughby (read full novel .TXT) 📖

but his jersey—the one he’d worn during the game. Normally, I’d think this was gross because of all the sweat, but in the dream, it was a huge turn-on, for both of us.

He was kissing me hard and I was freezing but I didn’t care. I was burning for him from the inside out and his warm hands were roaming all over my body. My back, my sides, my waist, my ass. Miraculously, his clothes disappeared and I was pressed up against the side of his Wrangler. He had hoisted one of my legs up and he fucked me hard.

“What happened?”

“In the dream?” I gasped. “I’m not telling you!”

“Come on.” He pulled me close and nuzzled my neck. “I promise if I ever have a sexy dream about you, I’ll tell you all about it.”

Even though a whole-body shiver went through me and my heart was beating faster, I said, “No. No deal. Absolutely not.”

“Can you at least tell me if I was good or not? I mean, I need to know if I have a lot to live up to.”

He kissed me and his lips were warm and giving and as always, my body heated immediately. As I reveled in his closeness, part of my brain wondered if a person could get addicted to another person, like to through withdrawals and everything. I knew that cravings were one sign of addiction. Check. Another was indulging even when you knew it was detrimental and I was blowing off studying for my quiz for Hudson Time, so check again.

“You were actually horrible. You didn’t make me come and then you went to get a hot dog. That’s probably Freudian for something.”

He chuckled. “Well, you’re the one who dreamed it, so whatever the hot dog represents, that’s all you.”

“Jerk,” I said, smiling as he pushed me onto my back.

As we made out with hot, long, deep kisses, I surrendered to the heady feeling of Hudson on top of me, his tongue in my mouth, his erection hot against my leg. Lord, the man knew what he was doing. I was awash with delicious sensations and when he slid his hand under my shirt and squeezed my breast, I arched. My nipples contracted and hardened and he groaned into my neck.

Desperate to feel more, I shifted so that one of my feet was on the ground and he was wedged between my legs. I was rewarded with direct grinding pressure on my clit. Yesss. It felt divine, especially when I wrapped my other leg around his hips to intensify the feelings.

We were both breathing hard now. My head was crowded against the couch cushions and I really wanted to shed some of my clothes. But Hudson was thrusting and rubbing himself against me and I didn’t want him to stop. The only orgasms I’d ever had were the do-it-yourself kind, but that seemed like it was going to change. I could feel it building. As long as he kept doing what he was doing…

Beep-beeeep. Beep beep beep. Beep-beeep. Beep beep beep.

At the sound of the car horn, Hudson stopped moving. “Shit damn piss fuck.”

“What?”

“That was AJ warning me he’s back.”

He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. I followed suit, tugging my shirt back into place.

“You want to continue this in my room?” he asked with a hopeful smile.

Even though I was really turned on, I was reluctant to have sex for the first time while AJ was out here twiddling his thumbs, trying to ignore what was happening on the other side of the bedroom door.

“I don’t think so. You have a game to play soon and you need all your energy.”

“It wouldn’t take that much energy,” he whined.

“Good to know,” I said with an arch smile.

A split second later when he got the dig, he scoffed and said, “Now you’re going to get it!” And when AJ came in a minute later, I had to beg him to stop Hudson from tickling me to death.

17

Hudson

Two weeks had passed since our home opener and we’d really begun to gel as a team. We had won both games the weekend before, which left us confident and ready to face the eight games scheduled for November. Seb Hunter, one of our top defensemen had returned after a minor injury took him out for a week and my own performance seemed to be back on track.

At least, I thought it was back on track. Unfortunately, that didn’t turn out to be the case. Once again, life decided to pile a hat-trick-plus-one of shit on.

First, we were up against the Eagles. Tied for the record of the most Frozen Four appearances, Boston College was a tough opponent with a strong defense and even stronger forwards. On top of that they’d won the game last night, so we had our work cut out for us.

Then my dad called to tell me the “good news” that he would be there. While I was grateful he cared enough to make the trip from Brooklyn just to watch me play, Dad’s game analysis was always more brutal if he attended live. Not only that, but Indi went home to visit her parents and because Brattleboro was only a couple of hours from Boston College, they were all coming to the game.

Despite that extra stress, I thought I had a handle on everything.

Then later that morning, we were on the bus headed for Chestnut Hill and I got a call that upped my anxiety level to seven point five out of ten. Doug Lyddane, one of the player development guys for the Dragons, said he, too, was coming to the game.

“I’d love to touch base with you afterwards,” Lyddane said. “See if you need anything.”

I wanted to tell him I needed a fucking Valium but managed to hold my tongue.

“Great,” I told him. “Looking forward to it.”

We held our own in the first period with neither team scoring, but in the second period, I caused a turnover