Page 62 of Taking Sides

His blue eyes darken as I unbutton his jeans and slowly drag the zipper down. The muscles in his stomach tighten as I push them down with his boxers. Then I drop to my knees.

He looks at me like he can’t believe what’s happening or like he thinks he just won the blowjob jackpot. Either way, it makes me feel like a goddess.

“Have you done this before?”

He nods as his throat works with a swallow. “But I’ve never wanted it more.”

I bring my lips to the head of his dick. As I flick my tongue over the tip, I glance up. His eyes are hooded, and his lips part. He brings one hand up to cup my face, and his thumb glides over my cheek with a tenderness that makes heat pool low in my stomach.

“Fuck. Your mouth is perfect.” His grip on my face tightens just slightly. “I’m going to come fast again. It’s too good. You’re so fucking good.”

I had every intention of dragging this out and taking my time, savoring, but when Conrad starts talking, I can’t hold back. A talkative Conrad is my undoing.

I hollow my cheeks and suck hard. He brings his other hand up to the other side of my face and gently guides me over him at a faster pace. My core aches and my stomach flutters as he continues muttering my name, over and over, between groans.

When he comes, my pussy throbs so hard, it hurts. Conrad lifts me and pins me against the wall. While he kisses me, he gets my jeans down and then his fingers are there, exactly where I need them, easing the pain with white-hot pleasure. I come the same way he did, saying his name.

The world comes back into focus slowly. Conrad lowers me to the ground, holding on as I get my footing.

“Wow.” I blow out a long breath as I stare at his puffy lips and disheveled hair.

He grins like he’s aware that he just fucked all my thoughts right out of my head. “Yeah . . . wow.”

FIFTEEN

I’m in my classroom before school starts the next morning when I finally call Victor back.

“Hey,” he answers briskly, followed by a loud exhale like he’s out of breath.

“Are you on the bike?”

“Just finished.” His words come a little slower. “Where were you last night? I tried to call from the plane a couple times.”

“Yeah, I saw I missed your calls. Sorry about the game.”

He grunts. Houston lost to Seattle last night. It’s their third loss in a row.

“Wally might as well not be in the net for all the pucks he’s letting past him lately,” Victor says, voice full of annoyance.

Maxwell Wallace, aka Wally, is Houston’s goalie. And he is struggling, but that’s not the team’s only problem. All the forwards, including my brother, are in a scoring slump. And the talks of trades and more coaching changes can’t be helping the morale.

“How’s everything else? How’s Bella?” I ask, pacing the room with a nervous energy. I know Victor doesn’t know about Conrad, and it’s technically none of his business, but I still feel guilty.

“Same. Good.”

“I miss her.” Victor’s dog is the cutest light gray Italian greyhound. I dog sat for her all the time while he traveled. In fact, I probably spent more time with his dog than I did my brother when I lived in Houston.

“You could come visit or just move back,” he says.

I roll my eyes, and a small laugh escapes.

Victor’s voice softens just a tad. “Had to try.”

“Have you found a new assistant yet?” I ask. I sent his agent my thoughts on all the applicants but never heard if they made an offer.

He sighs. “Yeah.”

“Really? Which one?”