Chapter 3

Two condoms later, we’re lying in the bed side by side, my hand resting on her stomach, my eyes closed. Holy flaming hog balls.

And it’s not even enough. I want her again. This time slower, savoring every lick and taste of her, every whimper and moan when I make her come.

“Hockey players have great stamina,” she says in a slurred voice.

“I’m out of shape.”

“Phhhht. You’re not even close to being out of shape. You have an amazing body.”

That makes me feel good. I’ve been a slacker for so long, I know I’m not as fit as I was when I was playing, but maybe I haven’t lost all my muscle tone. “So do you.”

“Thank you.” Her hand lands on top of mine and squeezes. “You know what? I’m starving.”

Huh. I am, too. I didn’t even finish that muffin before we started dancing and then fell into bed. “Yeah, I could eat.”

“Let’s order room service.” She winces. “Except it’s probably super-expensive here.”

“Don’t worry about it. I got it.” I haven’t worked for over a year, but I made a lot of money before that, plus I just sold my house and downsized into a condo, so my bank account is pretty fat.

She rolls out of bed, grabs a scrap of silk lying over the back of an armchair and drops it over her head. The silk slithers down over her sweet tits, down to her thighs. A tiny little white slip. She adjusts a strap on her shoulder and pads over to the desk where she picks up a room service menu. My gaze is hooked onto the points of her nipples outlined by the thin fabric.

She flips the pages. “Jeez. I should have a salad, but I could really go for a burger.”

“Crap. My cheat day was yesterday. What are the chances they have something that’s on my list of allowed foods?” I wiggle my fingers at her. “Bring that over here.”

“Oh, right. The diet.” She climbs back onto the bed and we both sit up against the headboard to study the menu. “They have a whole vegan menu. And gluten-free.”

“Huh. Hey, organic chicken breast. I can have that. With some steamed asparagus.”

“Wow. You’re disciplined.”

I set my jaw and nod. “I have to be.”

“Okay, I will have a salad then. Niçoise.”

“That looks really good.”

“And…” She peers up at me. “Beer’s probably not on your diet.”

“It’s not and I’m kinda leery about drinking beer after last night.”

“True. Okay, I’ll have a Diet Coke.”

I reach for the phone and order two chicken breast dinners, two sides of asparagus, two Niçoise salads, a Diet Coke, and two glasses of skim milk.

“Two of everything?” Kendra asks when I hang up. “I thought you were on a diet.”

“I am, but one chicken breast isn’t enough. I need protein. Plus that salad looks good and I don’t want to eat all yours.”

“That is so not fair. You’re on a diet and you can eat twice as much as me.” She sighs. “But you’re a big guy, hockey dude. I guess you can eat that much. Me, I have to be careful.”

“No way.” I eye her slender curves.

“Way. And I have to work out all the time.”

“Everyone should work out.”

“True.” She tilts her head. “I know it’s important, more than just for looks. I have more energy when I work out. And it makes me feel better mentally, too.”

I frown. “Yeah.” She’s right about that. I went through some pretty low times, when the last thing I felt like doing was working out…but that probably would have been the best thing I could do. I’ve already noticed a difference in my mood since I started getting back in shape.

“It’s important to stay healthy,” she says.

“It is. And honestly, I can eat more calories than you, since you’re so tiny, but I’ve got a weakness for junk food and I can pack the pounds on pretty quick if I’m not careful.”

Her gaze tracks over my body again. “Doesn’t look like it.”

I think she’s just being nice, because I know I’ve put on weight. But hey, I’ll take it.

“So what’s this training program you’re on?”

I tell her about Greg’s program. “He does this eight-week program for the off-season. A bunch of other NHL players will be there. We do off-ice workouts, on-ice drills, and practices and there’s the nutritional component as well. I started a couple weeks early because I’ve been out of the game so long. Right now we’re doing corrective work and some education—he’s teaching me patterns and proper techniques for the exercises. Really, he’s just preparing me for the heavy stuff that’s coming, but hell, he just about killed me last week.”

“But it felt good.”

“Yeah,” I say slowly. “It did, actually. I’m learning how what I eat affects how I perform, and we’re working on flexibility and range of motion, getting me ready to increase my strength and power in the next two phases.”

A knock at the door and a call of “Room service” interrupts us.

“Christ, I’m not even dressed.” I jump off the bed and grab my pants. I hoist them up and quickly fasten them as I walk to the door. I find my wallet and pull a few bills out for a tip.

The guy in the hall wheels a cart into the room and spends way too long cleaning up the leftovers from brunch, then setting the table with silver cutlery and cloth napkins. There’s not enough room for all the food I ordered, so I say, “Just leave it on the cart. We’ll look after it.”

“You sure, sir?”

I nod, sign the bill and slip him the tip, and he leaves.

Kendra’s setting plates in front of the chairs and arranging our drinks.

“Smells great.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m so hungry.”

We dig into the food. I give her some of my chicken to taste since I have lots.

“So what do you do?” I ask her. “I mean, for a living.”

“I make sex toys.”

I cough. “Uh, what?”

She grins and shakes back that long, thick fall of cinnamon hair. “I make sex toys.”

I lift my eyebrows.

“Not by myself,” she continues. “I have a business partner, my best friend Jodie. We went to college together. I took psychology and she’s a mechanical engineer. We moved to New York together and I was working as a therapist—”

“Jesus. You’re a psychologist?”

“Yes. With an interest in sexuality. And Jodie was working at Z Tech, developing 3D printing technologies.”

“Sounds like you two are brainiacs.” I’m not sure I can keep up with this woman. Not that I’m a stupid guy, but whoa…a psychologist.

She laughs. “We’re smart, not gonna lie. Anyway, our friends talk about sex and how hard it is to reach orgasm while having sex, or if you use your fingers to get yourself off it distracts from some of the enjoyment you get from touching the guy, and plus there are some positions that don’t really work for that. We’d all tried different sex toys, but it seemed like they were made more for men’s enjoyment. I’ve always been interested in the ‘pleasure gap’ and the fact that women don’t always get as much satisfaction from sex as men do.”

I can only stare at her.

“And we had this crazy idea that we could make better sex toys, ones that are designed for women to help them get off.”

“That’s…wow.”

Her grin is infectious. “I know, right? It freaks people out when I tell them what I do. Especially my parents.” She rolls her eyes. “My mother is her usual dismissive self when it comes to anything I succeed at.”

“I guess most parents don’t really want to think about their daughter having sex.”

“But it’s okay for their sons?” She pounces on my words, her chin lifting.

“I didn’t say that…but you’re right, there probably is a double standard there.”

“Sure. Guys who like to have sex are studs. Girls who like to have sex are sluts. Why should it be different?”

“Not gonna argue with you on that.” I hold up my hands.

She slumps a little. “Sorry. Slut-shaming is a hot button for me.”

She’s quite the feisty little feminist. And I’m thinking that with complete respect, so don’t think I’m being an asshole. Plus a woman who loves sex? That’s hot as hell. “So anyway, your parents have a hard time with your occupation.”

“Yeah.” She sighs. “To be honest, my parents just have a hard time with me.”

“What?”

“It’s a long story. My mom’s a little…well, she has a personality disorder. I understand it now, but it was hard growing up.” She waves a hand.

“You can’t cure her personality disorder?”

She gives me a soft smile and does a little huff that tells me there’s so much more going on than what she’s saying. “No,” she says quietly. “I can’t. Spent my whole childhood trying, though.” She paused. “Anyway, Jodie and I started a campaign on Indiegogo to see if there was enough interest, and wow, we were blown away. We managed to fulfill a hundred percent of our pre-orders nine months after reaching our goal, and we kept that momentum going to open up wholesale channels with some of the biggest names in the industry. Now we have a bunch of different toys and more in the works.”

“That’s fantastic.”

“Yeah. It makes life super-busy. We both gave up our day jobs, so we have to make a success of this. We were doing a lot of traveling, trying to get more investors and also to get the bigger sex toy retailers to sell our products. Then Jodie got pregnant and now she has a two-year-old daughter, so I’ve kind of taken over most of that and we’ve divided up our duties a little differently. I actually have a business meeting tomorrow while I’m here.”

Her eyes glow as she talks.

“Sounds like you really love what you’re doing.”

“I do love it! It’s been so rewarding. Being self-employed is a little scary, but we’ve done okay. And like I said, I’ve always been interested in sexuality. I was helping my patients, of course.” Her eyes cloud before she drops her gaze, her smile fading and her forehead creasing. Then she gives her head a small shake and looks back at me. “But this way I feel like I’m helping a lot of people.”

“A lot of women.”

“Well, yes.” Her smile turns impish. “But that’s helping men, too, right? Don’t you enjoy sex more if your partner is satisfied?”

“Absolutely.” Guys do care about making sure women climax. Honestly, making her come made me feel like a fucking god. Her pleasure boosts my ego. Wait, that actually sounds kind of selfish, but…okay, it is.

“I could tell that about you. You’re a very unselfish lover.”

Huh. She has no idea how hard it was not to just mount her and get myself off, I was so fucking horny, but…yeah, it was important to me to make sure it was good for her, too.

I’m not inexperienced, I just haven’t done it for a while. Apparently, I haven’t forgotten what women like.

“Do you have any of your toys with you?”

Her eyelids droop and her lips part. “I do.”

“Maybe you should show me how these things work.” My dick thickens yet again.

Her tongue comes out to moisten her bottom lip and she nods. “I could do that. When we’re done eating.”

I have half a chicken breast still left but waste no time cutting it into bites and forking it into my mouth while she finishes off the last bit of seared tuna in her salad. The air in the room has changed from casual and comfortable to thick and charged.

When we’re done, she pushes away from the table and crosses to the dresser. From the top drawer she pulls out a small pouch and carries it back to the bed.

I can’t take my eyes off her—she’s graceful and unselfconscious in that little slip. I didn’t think she had much of a body last night at the wedding, I guess because she’s not super-stacked—but seeing her now…wow. She’s all smooth curves and toned muscles, and I’ve seen that her abs are impressively defined. I take a big gulp of the glass of water that came with the meals, wipe my mouth with a napkin, and join her on the bed.

She kneels there and removes the toy from the pouch. “This is Venus.” She holds it up. “It’s designed to stimulate female orgasms without interfering with penetration or the man’s pleasure.”

“Show me.” I’m going to die if she doesn’t, because she’s so gorgeous and smart and she’s been turning me on talking about orgasms and stimulation and penetration. My dick wants to penetrate her right fucking now.

“I might need a little foreplay.” She shoots me a teasing look as she lies down on the bed.

“Oh, yeah. Right.” I move closer and lean down to kiss her. “Dancing. Kissing.”

“The keys to my vag,” she says on a sigh. “Along with nipple-sucking and hair-pulling.”

“Jesus. Don’t hold back, spice girl. Tell me what you want.”

She bursts out laughing. “I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want.”

I grin. I love it that she got my joke.

Then she bites her bottom lip. “Does me telling you what I like bother you?”

“Fuck no! I love it.”

“Okay, good. Some men have a problem with a woman who’s too…forthright.”

I nuzzle her jaw, her ear, her neck, breathing in the delicious scent of her skin. “How else are you going to get what you want if you don’t ask for it?”

“I’m so glad you see it that way.” Her eyes have drifted closed, her lips parted.

I’m goddamn glad that she told me what she likes. Takes the guesswork out of it for me.

I kiss the pulse that’s beating at her throat, gently suck on her skin there, then kiss my way down over her chest. “Freckles here, too.” I lick them.

“I know. I hate my freckles.”

“They’re beautiful.”

I move over her now, between her legs. She parts her thighs and I sink into their cradle, a perfect fit. I slowly ease the silk slip up over her hips and waist, then she does an impressive crunch to sit up and pull it off over her head. She rolls back down and I press my face between her breasts, then kiss the inner curve of each one. I lick a slow circle around a nipple, which is already tightened. She does a quick inhale and I move to tease the other breast with more licking, finally sliding my tongue over her nipple.

She likes having these beauties sucked. And that’s perfect because, damn, I could feast on them forever. I close my teeth so gently over one soft curve and she gasps.

“Getting wet, baby?” I slip a hand between us and investigate. “Oh, yeah. You are.” She’s slippery and swollen. Fuck, that’s hot.

She moves Venus to her pussy and attaches it somehow while I get rid of my pants.

Her gaze goes to my hand on my engorged dick, and her tongue slides over her bottom lip. “You’re…wow.”

I glance down. Yeah, I have a big dick. Again, not bragging. I’m glad she likes it.

She smiles, arms reaching for me. “Fuck me, Max.”

I grab a condom from the table beside the bed. After rolling it on, I rub the head of my dick up and down her slit. She’s watching with heavy-lidded eyes and widens her thighs even more as I push inside.

I lift her thighs up and back, my own legs spread wide as I slowly slide in and out, and her hands land on my knees and hold on to them as my strokes get harder, deeper, faster, jolting her. “Oh, yeah,” she breathes. “Fuck me like that.”

I’m not sure about this toy between us, but it’s small, so I stretch out over her to find her mouth again. After a hard kiss, I press my face into the side of her neck and roll my hips against her, balls deep inside her. I can barely feel the toy, other than the vibrating, which is nice. Apparently, she feels it more than I do, because she’s crying out and pressing up into my thrusts. Her hands are all over me, gripping my biceps, roaming over my shoulders and back.

“Oh, yeah!” Her head rolls on the pillow. I kiss her neck and her ear, and then I’m pounding into her, trying to give her what she wants and holy fuck, when she comes her nails dig into my shoulders and I swear her hips are a foot off the bed, holding herself tight against me as her pussy ripples around my dick and she shudders through her orgasm.

Pressure builds in my balls, tension climbs up my spine, and then fire explodes low in my belly, searing through my hips and out my cock. Holding my dick deep inside her, I press her into the mattress, my nose buried in the side of her neck. I’m making a bunch of guttural noises as I empty myself. She’s petting my back now, kissing my shoulder, and when my cock finishes shooting, I can feel her pussy giving it tiny involuntary squeezes.

She hooks her feet together at the small of my back, holding me with her arms and legs, hands still stroking me, and I fight for breath, my heart pounding. Wow.

My vocabulary is sadly limited when it comes to expressing how I feel about all this. The only word that keeps coming to mind is “wow.” It’s appropriate, but there’s a lot more to Kendra than “wow.”

I stop myself right there.

I can’t go there. This is sex. Just sex.

Yeah, I did it. I had sex with another woman.

A band starts tightening around my chest, squeezing the breath out of me. The back of my throat burns. What the fuck am I doing?

I ease off Kendra and pull out. “Gotta get rid of the condom,” I say roughly and bolt out of bed.

In the bathroom once more, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. What have I done?