Chapter Three

 

I settled on the sofa, bowl of nachos at my side and the remote ready. The Orlando Vipers were playing the Seattle Stars and it promised to be an awesome battle on ice.

Brick skated out fourth in line, side by side with the new Dallas transfer, Wolf. Just seeing Brick on the screen knotted my stomach and hitched my breath. Now I knew what he was like to touch, to hang on to, the sensation of longing was so much more powerful. Suddenly he bumped shoulders with a Seattle forward, hard and powerful, an aggressive taunt. Half the crowd cheered while the other half booed and hissed. The Seattle forward slammed his stick against the ice and squared his shoulders, reminding me of a bull ready to charge.

“And the puck hasn’t even dropped and there’s trouble,” the commentator shouted excitedly. “This is going to be one heck of a game, folks. Watch out for flying fists and teeth.”

And they were off.

 

*****

 

They’d only been beaten by one point but Ramrod looked as though it was the end of the world when he was stopped in the tunnel by a reporter. His face was red and his dark hair clung to his sweaty scalp. He was still catching his breath and stood with his hands on his hips as he ranted about unfair penalties and gave his opinion on how Wolf had slotted into the team.

There was something about Ramrod that was very appealing. He had nothing on Brick of course, but as captain he held a certain air of authority. Plus, the hugeness of his shoulders and his colossal height couldn’t help but make a girl wonder about the size of other parts of his anatomy. The average-sized reporter looked like a waif of a man in comparison.

Ramrod finished speaking and the channel switched to commercials. I flicked it off and stood, took my glass and bowl into the kitchen, washed, dried and put them away. I double-checked the lock on the front door, brushed my teeth, and climbed into bed wearing an old t-shirt.

Brick hadn’t called and I couldn’t deny I was disappointed. Perhaps he hadn’t liked kissing me. Doubts niggled their way into my mind. Maybe there was something about me he found unappealing. I couldn’t think what. He’d seemed as into the whole kissing moment as me until he’d suddenly backed up and disappeared.

I sighed. At least I knew where he was and what he’d been doing. Plus, I’d see him again on Monday in New York. He’d have to speak to me when we were interviewed on Ray’s couch.

I flicked on my table lamp and picked up a book. A Booker Prize winner I knew I should read but was struggling with. My mind kept wandering to a certain hockey player every few paragraphs.

I’d done half a chapter when the cell on my bedside table rang. “Hello.”

“Hi, honey.”

“Brick?”

“Who else calls you honey?” His voice was deep and slow and so very sexy.

I closed my eyes and sent up a prayer of thanks. “No one.” I smiled into the phone.

“Good, I like it that way.” There was a pause. “Did you watch the game?”

“Sort of, it was on in the background. You deserved to win. I’m sorry you didn’t.”

“We could have done with the points. But they’re a good team and we’re still missing Raven.”

“How’s his leg?”

“Hey, you are a Vipers fan,” he said in a voice that told me he was smiling, too.

“Isn’t everyone in Orlando?” I could hardly tell him if he switched teams so would I.

He chuckled down the line and the delicious noise rumbled through my body. “He’s getting on just fine, he’s back in training and not far off playing again.” I heard him shifting and a click, a light switch perhaps. “So what you been doing today?”

“I’ve been to see Mom and Dad, helped Mom out with her garden. They’re going away soon and she wants it tidy, then I did fifty on my bike.” I rested back into the soft pillows and stretched my legs on top of the duvet.

“Fifty miles.”

“Yes, that’s my weekend thing. It was really hot today though and the traffic was heavy even on the outer roads.”

“Why don’t you train indoors?” His voice sounded stern. “Cooler and much, much safer.”

“It’s way too boring. Not to mention they won’t give me the track to myself for that long unless my coach books it. So she only does that when there’s something major I’m going for.”

“So there’s nothing coming up competition-wise for you.”

“No, not for several months, that’s why I agreed to this charity work with the Promises Foundation.”

“Yeah, it’s a good cause, I’m glad I got picked for it.” He paused. “Especially now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, ’cause I got to meet you, honey.” He gave a little snort as if he knew he was being cheesy.

There was a moment of silence and my mind went back to the kiss he’d given me when I last saw him. I touched my fingertips to my lips.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you earlier,” he said in a softer voice. “It’s been a crazy day.”

“It’s okay.” I tried to sound nonchalant, as if I hadn’t been looking at the phone every ten minutes to check for signal and missed calls.

“We had an early flight and then Coach had us trying out a new formation, which didn’t work so we switched back and it all got…” he trailed off. “You don’t want to hear about hockey.”

“I like hockey.”

“I like you,” he said quickly as if the words had tumbled from his mouth.

My heart did a little flip of excitement. “So where are you now?”

“In my hotel room.”

“Why aren’t you out commiserating?” I wriggled down in the bed so I was lying flat. I could listen to his voice all night, it washed over me like nectar and poured into me like fine wine.

“I wanted to talk to you. I reckoned if I didn’t I might blow my chances forever.” I heard him swallow.

“Yeah, you might have.” I paused. “You got a drink?”

“Yeah, just a beer from the minibar, a nightcap.”

“Are you in bed?” I asked.

“Are you?”

“Yes, it’s late.”

“I’m on the bed but not in bed, if you know what I mean.” A silence fell between us and I could hear his breaths down the line. “I’m sorry I ran out on you yesterday,” he said eventually.

I was quiet. He seemed to have a lot to apologize for.

“You still there?”

“Mmm, I’m here. So why did you dash off?”

He cleared his throat and when he spoke again his voice was lower, huskier. “If I hadn’t left when I did, you’d have found yourself slammed up against the wall and me burying myself inside you.”

My skin flushed at his erotic words. Hard and fast against the wall would have been so fucking horny. So damn hot. “Sounds public and presumptuous,” I said as I squeezed my thighs together. A buzz radiated from my clit right through my pelvis and up to my breasts. I squirmed in pleasure.

“You said it wasn’t what you wanted to happen on a first date and so there was no way it was going to.” I heard him take another slug of his beer. He swallowed, a deep gulp of a sound and I could imagine him licking his lips with the tip of his tongue. Capturing the small, white froth left behind.

I want to be that froth.

“Can I be honest with you, Carly?” he asked quietly.

“Of course.”

“You’ve achieved these amazing, superhuman feats on your bike,” he murmured, “and I can’t believe you do all that with your sexy little body. It’s incredible. I mean, wow! Where the hell does all that stamina and strength come from? You got some battery fitted somewhere?”

I giggled. “No battery.” Not tonight anyway.

“And no team with you either. I have a ton of guys backing me up, but you, you’re on your own out there, for miles and miles. It must be really, like, impossibly hard. I want you to know how much I admire you.”

He was silent for a long moment. I stared at my toenails painted pale pink. He was right, it was damn hard work.

“I wish I was there with you,” he said so quietly I only just heard him.

“What, out on the track?”

“No.” He gave a small rumble of laughter. “In bed.”

“Mmm, I just bet you do.” I smiled broadly. I loved the way his mind was flowing in sync with mine.

“Yeah, I wish I was sprawled out on your bed with the lights down low, everything quiet and still, just you and me and the ticking of a clock.”

I’d pictured the scene a hundred times. It was a recurring fantasy. “And what would you do?” I lifted up my t-shirt and smoothed my hand over my flat belly. Imagined it was his big hand on my flesh. I could sense the rough skin on the pads of his palm now he’d touched me for real and I knew they were there. “If you were lying here in bed with me. What would you do?”

“You sure you want to know?” he asked.

“You got me curious now.” I could feel myself getting turned-on faster than I could cycle. But I had to stay cool.

“I’d savor you,” he said. “Slowly, very slowly.”

“And how would you do that?” I hoped he’d be graphic—really graphic and really detailed.

“I need to know something first.” He paused. “What are you wearing?”

“A slip,” I lied.

“Describe it.”

“It’s black satin, very small and incredibly short.” I poked a finger through a ragged hole in the hem of my t-shirt. “The material is so sheer your hand would slide over it as if it wasn’t there.” I tugged my finger and made the hole half an inch bigger.

“Sounds hot. Just how short is it?”

“If I touched my toes, you’d see my entire butt.” I felt a flush of excitement travel up my chest. “My entire naked butt.”

“Take it off.” He took another gulp of his beer.

“Now?”

“Yeah, now.” His voice was tight. My black slip and naked butt had clearly hit the spot.

“Okay, hang on.” I set down the phone, pulled off my t-shirt and tossed it on the floor.

I picked the phone back up.

“Are you naked now?” he asked.

“What do you think?”

“Honey, if I shut my eyes I can see you sprawled out on a bed, shadows licking over your body and those tempting little tits poking up.”

My nipples puckered just at the way he said tits. All long and drawling and he stretched out the “s” like a hiss. I snaked my hand upward and cupped my right breast. “So what would you do?” I asked.

“I’d cup your tit in my hand. Your right tit.”

I gave myself a little squeeze and pretended it was him.

“Can you do that now, Carly? Will you touch yourself and describe it for me?”

Right now I would do naked cartwheels if he asked me to. “If that’s what you want?”

Silence claimed the line for several long seconds. “You were already doing it, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” I said, pulling my nipple to a point. “What do you want to know?”

“I want to know how you’d fit in my hand.” I heard him take a swig of his drink again. A bit faster this time. I heard the slosh of liquid and the pop of suction. “Would you fill my palm?”

“Probably not, I already told you, heck, you already looked. I’m not a big girl.”

“I’ve discovered a sudden fondness for the exact opposite of big.”

“Lucky me.”

“Yeah, lucky you, you’re the one holding a breast in your hand, I’ve got nothing in mine.”

“You could have.” Oh my God! Was this really happening? Could I really go through with this? I’d never had phone sex before.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I’m naked,” I said. Of course I could go through with this. It was the perfect way to keep myself distanced and in control but at the same time snare his attention and have some hot fun. “Why are you still clothed?”

“You want me to take off my jeans?” He sounded amused and disbelieving at the same time.

“Sure, it’s not fair otherwise.”

“Okay. Hang on.”

I heard the bottle clink onto wood, shuffling and the rustle of material.

“They off?” I asked when I heard his breath back on the line. “And your underwear.”

“Yep, I’m as bare as the day I was born.” He paused. “So tell me what it looks like?”

“What?”

“That pretty little nipple of yours.”

I swirled my fingertips over the hard bud and it pinched and tightened further. “It’s pink.”

“Pink, really?” He sounded genuinely surprised. “I kind of imagined it would be a coffee brown, caramel colored, dark but not too dark.”

“Why?”

“Well your hair is so black and your skin is a lovely shade of gold. I just presumed you’d be dark all over what with those dominant dark genes. Look at your eyes, they couldn’t be a more chocolate shade of brown.”

Jesus, he’d given it some thought. But he was wrong, my nipples were a pale, sugared-almond pink. “Not brown, pale pink.” I said.

“Go on.”

I looked down at my chest. “Like the border between nipple and flesh is only just visible.”

“So the flesh is pale too?”

“Yes, no sun hits the spot.”

“And how’s it going to feel in my hand, honey?”

“Well it’s not going to be much of a soft, brimming handful.”

“Mm, a firm, neat palm full.” He sounded languid and content with the image.

“A cupped palm rather than a flattened palm. Your hands are pretty big.” I pictured his hand over my breast. “But if you cupped your palm you’d be able to feel my hard nipple.”

“How hard?”

“Really hard. Like a torpedo.”

Had I really just said that?

“Then I wouldn’t be able to resist rolling it between my thumb and index finger,” he said. “Do that and imagine it’s me doing it to you?”

“Okay.” I began to pluck and fiddle.

“Do it hard, not so it hurts, just so the nipple knows it’s got some serious fun ahead. A real treat in store.”

“Mm, I am.”

“And the other one.”

I switched breasts. The left nipple was straining for attention. I gave it the same tweaking as I listened to Brick breathing down the line.

“Does it feel nice?” he asked. “Does it like how I would treat it?”

“Yes,” I said a little breathlessly. I was beginning to feel hot even in the cool air-conditioning. “Yes, it really would.”

“And do you know what I’d do next?” he asked. “If I were with you?”

“What?” A prickle of excitement shimmied across my flesh.

“I’d duck my head and take that nipple into my mouth.”

I fluttered my eyes shut.

Oh God, I wished he would.

“Lick your fingers, Carly. Lick your fingers and pretend it’s wetness from my mouth touching you.”

I did as he’d said. I thought my nipple was as hard as it could get but with the coolness of my saliva it tightened even further. So much so that it twisted into a point. I let out a sigh as another bolt of lust shot out from my breast and settled between my legs.

“Does my wetness feel good?”

“Yes, yes it does.” I switched to the other breast. I was getting wet somewhere else, too.

“I can hear it in your voice, Carly. You’d like the way I’d suckle you into my mouth. You might not be a handful but you’d be a perfect mouthful.” His voice was a low, hypnotic murmur. “I could take you all in, your nipple and your flesh. I could suck you to the back of my throat while my hand worshiped your other breast. It would be so hot, so hot and wet it would make you squirm. You’d put your hands over my ears and hold my head tight. You’d arch your back toward me and beg me not to stop. How does it sound, Carly? Would you enjoy that?”

“It sounds good,” I replied, lodging the phone between my ear and shoulder. I cupped both hands over my breasts and squeezed and massaged. Imagined the heat and the wetness he was describing. I wished he were there for real doing it. I could hardly wait until he was.

“You’re making me hard,” he said. “The image of you lying in bed, touching your tits and pretending it’s me is so fucking hot you wouldn’t believe.”

I thought of his erect cock. Bulging and red. The head shiny and twitching above his taut abdomen. “Brick.”

“Yeah?”

I stalled. Could I? Dare I?

“What do you want?” his voice was low and persuasive. “Tell me, honey?”

“I want…” My mouth was dry and I ran my tongue around the inside.

“Anything you want you can have. You’ve just gotta say it,” he coaxed.

We were silent for a moment and then I said, “I want you to touch your cock and imagine it’s me touching it.”

He laughed quietly. “You’re a naughty girl,” he said. “But if that’s what you want…”

I became aware of my pulse pounding in my pussy. “Yes, it’s what I want.” I paused and pulled in a deep breath. “Are you doing it?”

“I’m waiting for instructions,” he said quietly. “What would you do if you had my dick in front of you? I need to know, exactly.”

“Okay.” I tugged at my bottom lip and summoned the courage to continue what we’d started. “I’d wrap my hand around the shaft.”

“Whereabouts?”

“What do you mean?”

“Middle, top or bottom.”

Such sweet options. “Bottom,” I said. I was quiet for a second then, “Are you doing it?”

“Yeah, but your hand is dinky compared to mine, it would feel so much sweeter.”

“It would, but try to imagine.” Hell, I was managing pretty successfully. “Now squeeze until you feel your own pulse. My fingertips would be absorbing it, so would my palm.” I paused. “Now pull your hand upward, slowly.” My own hand left my breast and as I pictured Brick masturbating and listening to my voice my fingers slipped beneath the elastic of my panties. “When you get to the top, before you reach the head slide back down.” I skimmed over my nest of soft curls and across my swollen clit. “Does it feel good?” I asked, tipping my pelvis.

“Yeah, honey, you’re good all right.”

I spread my legs wider and pushed through damp folds of flesh. Searched out my entrance and circled the hot ridges on either side. “Keep doing it until I tell you to stop,” I said, “and describe what it looks like, what it feels like.”

“It’s very, very hard,” he said in a deep voice. “And all the veins are engorged.”

I shut my eyes. “Is your hair down there blond?”

“Brown, light brown.”

“Like the hairs on your stomach.”

“How do you know I have light brown hairs on my stomach?”

Shit, now he knows I stole a peek. “Just a guess.”

“Yeah, a good guess, like the hairs on my stomach.” He was quiet for a moment. “Would you use your mouth on me?” He sounded so comfortable and confident, as if he was prepared to go for hours.

“Yes, but not yet.” I caught a gasp as I pushed one finger inside myself.

“Where are your hands now, Carly?”

“Where do you think?”

“I think you’re touching your pussy.” He paused. “Am I right?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you rubbing your clit or dipping inside?”

“I’m inside.”

“One finger or two?”

“One.”

“You’d better get two in if you’re gonna be able to fit me in there.”

He was so full of himself. I loved it. “Okay.” I doubled up, clamped my vaginal muscles and shoved in to the second knuckle.

“You doing it?”

“Yes, yes, I am.” I could hear the desire in my own voice.

“How does it feel?”

“Tight, really tight and dripping with moisture. It’s hot, too, hot and snug.”

“It sounds like heaven,” he said quietly. “Are you imagining it’s me in you?”

“Yes.”

“My fingers, my tongue or my dick?”

“Your dick.”

“Would you want it fast or slow? What do ya like best?”

I was still thinking of him burying himself in me up against the wall in the hallway. “Fast and hard.” I set up a speedy rhythm, and as I pumped my fingers my palm caught on my clit. It was impossible to keep my breathing controlled as an orgasm began to rise.

“Fast,” he said. “That suits me very well, and would that be before or after you took me in your mouth?”

“After.”

“But you haven’t told me how you’d do that yet, honey. You’re jumping ahead of yourself.”

I switched the phone from my hunched shoulder to my other hand. “Are you still pumping your cock?”

“Of course, you didn’t tell me to stop.”

“Are you doing it quicker?”

“Nope, you didn’t tell me to.”

Oh, he’s a stickler for the rules.

I withdrew my fingers and kept a climax sitting comfortably under control by just teasing my clit. I visualized his cock in front of me. Instantly my mouth watered. I could almost taste his saltiness and see a shiny drip of pre-cum balanced in his slit. “Stop pumping and make a circle with your thumb and index finger,” I said as my pelvis tipped for more of my own friction.

“Then what?”

“After I’d gently licked the head,” I said thoughtfully, “and made your dick twitch with impatience, I’d open my mouth. That’s the circle you just made. That’s my open mouth.”

“You’d have to open wide, honey.” There was lust and humor in his voice.

“After I’d opened my mouth so wide, so wide my jaw ached,” I said firmly, “I’d grasp your shaft and then slide you over my slightly curled tongue, my palate and right to the back of my throat.”

“I hope you’d be careful.”

“I wouldn’t bite you.” I was indignant. I’d done it before. Really rather successfully so I’d been told.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I don’t understand?”

“You’ll have to be careful of my piercing.”

“What piercing?”

He chuckled quietly. “The piercing I’ve got through the end of my dick.”

Oh. My. God.

He had to be kidding me. “You’re not serious.”

“I’m hitting the back of your throat, honey, this is not the time for jokes.”

“But…” Even in my wildest Brick fantasies I’d never imagined a cock piercing. But it had just taken a starring role. It was so kinky, so wickedly sexy. “Really?”

“Yes, really. You’ll see for yourself soon.”

“But why?”

“Why?” he huffed. “Because it will feel great when I’m inside you. It’s right through the tip, a thick silver ball ring.” His voice deepened. “And when I push up and stretch you around my girth, it will rub over that sweet little patch of yours, that little hot spot high up inside. And as I thrust, in and out, it’ll make you groan and moan and cry out for more in a way you never thought you would.”

I couldn’t control a whimper of pure lust. My eyes fluttered shut as I pictured the piercing. All shiny and rude, asking to be licked and sucked. “That changes things,” I said.

“How do you mean.”

“Well, before I sank you to the back of my throat, I’d give your ring some special attention.”

“I like the sound of that.” His voice was low and husky.

“I’d take it gently into my mouth.”

“Go on.”

My mind whirred. What the hell would I do with it? “I’d swirl my tongue around it and over it, tasting it and letting it touch my teeth.”

“Mm, that’s nice.”

“Would it make you harder?”

“Honey, if you did that I couldn’t get any harder without actually coming.”

“Perhaps I’d fondle and tickle and tug until you came. Until you came in my mouth.”

“But then I’d miss burying myself inside you.” His voice softened to an even sexier drawl. “And you’d miss out on the best orgasm of your life.”

I didn’t doubt it for a second. Brick, even just talking about sex, blew every other sexual experience I’d ever had out of the water.

We were both quiet. I was aware that his breathing had picked up and it was nearly, but not quite, matching mine. I resumed pushing my fingers inside my pussy. Let the heel of my hand rotate over my clit again. I wouldn’t be able to hold off much longer. I was beginning to tremble with the need to orgasm.

“Do you want to come now, Carly?”

I should say no, come quietly without him knowing, keep the control. Make out I wasn’t as desperate for it as he was. But I couldn’t wait. I was hypnotized by his voice and the images he was creating. It was like watching the hottest porn movie ever and having a leading role in it. “Yes,” I whispered. “I want to come. I want you to talk to me while I come but, but I want you to come, too.”

“It’s gonna be good. Just do as I say.”

“Okay.”

“Shut your eyes and picture me above you. My mouth wet from our kisses and my pupils wide.”

“Mm.” Easy enough to do.

“Feel my weight pressing on you, heavy and solid, but I’m not squashing you, I’m propped on my elbows.” How could he speak coherently? I’d lost the ability to say a word of more than two syllables.

I felt the first catch of my climax. My pussy wept even more moisture onto my thrusting fingers. I kept going. I could actually feel the weight of his divine body over me, sense the heat radiating off him and smell his delicious scent.

“Your legs are around my waist and my dick’s at the entrance to your pussy,” he said with a definite tightness in his tone. “The head and the ring is pushing in, slowly this first time, super slowly because you’ll need a chance to relax those quivering pussy muscles and accommodate me.”

I let out a whimper and added a third finger to my pussy.

He was quiet for a moment and I could just make out the sound of friction down the line, the rub of skin on skin. A small moan came out on one of his breaths.

“I’m easing in now,” he said in a strained voice. “You scrabble for my shoulders, your eyes wide, but I keep pushing up, keep taking what I want from you. And all the time I’m riding into your core, you’ll feel the ring. Smooth, cool and so, so hard.” He paused. “Can you feel it? Can you feel it where you need it most?”

“Yes, yes.” I was reaching the point of no return. My clit was about to erupt in a fountain of pleasure.

“Is it good?”

“So…good.”

“And once you’ve taken me right to your limit and my balls are pressing up against your butt, I’ll pick up the pace. That’s when I’ll fuck you hard and fast, just like you want it. Do that for me now, honey, make that busy little hand of yours work.”

I did as he’d asked. “And you,” I said breathlessly, “You need to match my pace, we’re joined.”

“Yeah, we’re joined all right,” he said as breathlessly as me.

And then it was there. My orgasm hovered for a blissful second before crashing through my body. “Oh, oh, God, yes…I’m coming.” I drove my fingers in hard and fast, my palm flew over my clit. “Come with me,” I gasped into the phone as lights flashed before me and my whole pelvis contracted. “Oh, oh…Brick.”

“Ah, Jesus. You sound fucking beautiful when you…ah, yes. Fuck.” He gave a long low moan that swirled into my ear and settled deep in my chest.

I sank boneless into the mattress. Stilled my hand but remained lodged high in my trembling pussy.

I couldn’t speak.

“You okay, honey?” he asked after a moment. “Was that good for you?

“Mmm,” I managed.

He gave an appreciative chuckle.

“You came too?” I asked. I needed to know. I needed to know I wasn’t the only one who’d got caught up in the moment, in the imagery and the softly spoken but filthy words.

“Honey, if you could see the mess on my belly you wouldn’t have to ask that question.”

I pulled my hand from my pussy and looked at it shimmering in the muted lighting. The thought of his feathered stomach hairs and tight abdominal muscles coated in semen was enough to make me come all over again. Pearly globs of sticky white trailing from his slit and that ring. Oh my God, that ring. And to know he’d come just talking to me, talking about fucking me, was way better than anything I could have planned. A smile spread on my face. I knew that soon, real soon, we’d be doing it for real.

“Do you feel satisfied?” he asked.

“Sort of.”

“What’d ya mean?” He was moving about, perhaps wiping himself clean.

“Well, I guess it’s a satisfaction I’d place somewhere in between masturbating and having a proper fuck. A bit like having a burger without the meat. The bun and salad is nice enough and fills you up but there’s definitely something missing.”

He snorted in amusement. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He paused. “You’ll be flying into New York Monday, right?”

“Yes, I’m arriving midafternoon.” After a long train journey, but if he thought I was flying that was fine. “The show recording isn’t until seven.”

“I’m flying straight there tomorrow from Seattle with Phoenix so we’ll be ready for the interview. There’s only three of us, apparently the rowers dropped out.”

“Well I guess I’ll see you on the hot seat.”

“Yeah, can’t wait.”

“Brick.”

“Yep.”

“Good night.”

He was quiet for a moment. As though surprised I was ending the conversation. Then, “Good night, honey. Sweet dreams.”

I clicked off the phone. I’d have sweet dreams all right. The sweetest damn dreams of my life.