Icing the Puck (New York Empires Book 2) (30 page)

Reiner lifted his head, breathing hard. His blue eyes branded her with their intensity.

“Where do you live?” he asked.

“Red Hook. You?”

“Park Slope.”

So they were both in Brooklyn.

“Your place or mine?”

It took her a moment to wrap her tongue around the word, “Mine.” He nodded, looking pleased, but what he didn’t know was that she was claiming him with that one word as well. Once she got him in her bed, she wasn’t letting him out.

Her grandma had told her once, that she’d known she wasn’t just in lust with her grandpa, but in love with him after their first kiss. Emma had scoffed at the idea of knowing you were in love with someone by a kiss.

Having just been kissed stupid by Reiner, she wondered if her grandma hadn’t been right.

“Do you need to get anything?”

“My coat,” she rasped.

He nodded and followed her to the coat room, never letting go of her. With his hand trailing down her arm to brush against her breast, he pulled her in tightly. She’d never had a man do that, and had wondered how it would feel to have one hold her like that. It was fan-freaking-tastic, and she wanted more of it.

They walked together to the coat check, and found the person who’d been checking the coats was gone. Emma walked into the room and found her own coat. She checked the pockets and found her phone, cash for a cab, and keys were right where she’d left them. Reiner took the coat from her and held it up so she could slip into it. Once she had it on, he took her hand once more, and they stepped out into the cold New York night.

Whoever said having a man be chivalrous was archaic had never had a man be that way with them. It wasn’t archaic, it was…she didn’t know what it was, but she knew she wanted more of it.

The temperatures had dipped into the low twenties, and she should have been freezing, but the heat coming off of Reiner, and the low burn in her system about the fact that she was about to have sex with Reiner, had her warm from the inside out.

Reiner held out a hand, and a cab stopped in front of them. He opened the door and waited for her to climb in and then slid in next to her. She gave her address to the driver and settled back into Reiner’s arms. His hands came around her, but they didn’t settle in. It started with small, light touches. His thumbs rubbed softly back and forth against her rib cage, never quite brushing her breasts, but hinting at it.

Reiner didn’t have to lean down much to meet her for the kiss. Their lips brushed, tongues met, and with a gasp, that simple sound, Emma was lost. Deepening the kiss, their mouths fused. With no space between them, their tongues twined and tangled, never pausing, never taking a breath, this kiss consumed him.

“All right lovebirds, out you go.” The cabbie’s voice had her jumping a bit.

This time of night, it hadn’t taken long for them to get to her place. Reiner paid the cabbie, and then they were inside her apartment.

She took her coat off, tossed it on the couch, and turned to Reiner.

He was leaning against the door, his hands in his pockets, legs crossed at the ankles. It should be a sin to look that good. He could have picked any woman to be with tonight, and yet he was here, in her apartment, with her, about to get very naked.

Oh, crap. That meant she was going to get naked as well. Maybe she should have thought about this some more. She’d seen the women he’d usually dated. Tall, beautiful, and skinny. Petite, beautiful, skinny. Like super skinny. Something she very much wasn’t. Even as a teenager she’d never been the super skinny type.

She had curves.

It didn’t matter how many miles she ran, or how much Zumba she did, those curves weren’t going anywhere. Plus, she loved chocolate. And ice cream.

She’d made peace with her curves. Or so she’d thought until Reiner had stepped into her apartment.

“What are you thinking?”

“That I look nothing like the women you normally go out with.”
Stupid. Stupid
. Why had she blurted that out?

He straightened away from the door and moved—no, stalked—across the room to her. “No, you don’t.” She inhaled, pretty offended, until he continued, “and thank the gods for that.” His hands framed her hips, pulling her flush with his body. “If you looked like them, you wouldn’t be you. And I very much want you, not someone else.”

“I have lots of curves.” Her voice was breathy. She was never breathy, she was always in control and self-assured. She didn’t care. All she cared about was this moment. This night. Reiner seemed happy with her figure; there was no mistaking his very impressive erection.

His hand palmed her ass, slid up along her hips back to her waist, pulled her in close. “Oh, yeah, you do.” The words were nearly growled, and his erection wouldn’t let her mistake his intention. He turned her around so her back was to his chest, and since she was still in heels, his erection pressed against her ass, nestling between her cheeks, through her dress. His hands met on her waist, and slowly slid up the curve of her belly, past her ribcage, to cup her full breasts. His cock twitched against her, making its presence known. As if she could forget.

With both of his hands on her breasts, his thumbs began slow circles against her pebbled nipples. Her head fell back to his shoulder, and his mouth began a trail from her cheek, to her earlobe, on down. His tongue laved her, his lips left fire in their wake, and when he sucked none too gently on her throat, moisture pooled between her legs.

Pressing her thighs together, she wanted more, needed more. More of everything. More of him. She turned to face him, but his hands gripped her even tighter, never leaving her breasts, his thumbs never stopping their torturous assault on her nipples. He wouldn’t let her turn around.

“Let me make you feel good.” Reiner’s accented words were felt, rather than heard. He didn’t bother to lift his head from her neck.

Her breath hitched as one hand made a slow journey down. By the time he passed her hip, he began pulling her gown up, handful after handful, until he brushed skin. She had thigh highs on.

Noting his surprise, she breathed out, “I hate pantyhose. I feel like I’m squished into them. I wear these so I feel like I can breathe.”

His growl of approval made her thighs tighten even more. She needed his hand there now.

“Don’t take them off.”

She wasn’t doing anything. Not with him pressed up against her, his hands on her naked thighs. She was terrified if she moved, she’d wake up, and this would all have been a dream. A very dirty, very erotic dream.

Reiner spun her around and took her mouth in a blistering kiss, one that had her on the verge of another orgasm.

Placing her hands on his chest, she slipped them under his jacket and pushed it off him. He lifted one hand off her and shrugged that arm out of the jacket before returning the hand to her waist, and then doing the same thing with the other arm.

Emma slowly undid his tie and then slipped the buttons on his shirt out of each buttonhole. She wasn’t going slowly on purpose, but her fingers trembled, and she had to concentrate.

Reiner’s hands had been busy brushing up and down her body. “I like your curves.”

Her hands froze on him, as his started moving up her ribs. His hands stopped beneath her breasts, not touching them. Not yet. Her eyes flicked up to look at his face. He was looking not at her face, but at her chest.

She hadn’t been sure about the bodice of her dress, as it was strapless and barely contained her girls, but seeing the way Reiner was looking at them, she was glad she’d gone with it.

His fingers found the zipper hidden in the side of her dress, and pulled it down slowly. His eyes moved to hers, and she felt singed by the fire in them. She felt the heat all the way to her core. It wasn’t going to take much to send her over the edge with him.

All he had to do was look at her, and she was ready. For anything.

With the zipper all the way down, he stepped back, and took his hands off her. The material clung for a heartbeat to her breasts then slid to the floor, leaving her standing there in nothing but her thigh highs and heels.

With any other man she’d have felt vulnerable and tried to cover something. As it was, her hands fluttered as if to hide her from his gaze. But the way he was looking at her. Like she was his favorite meal—or because this was Reiner Jahr, hockey god, like she was the Stanley Cup—she cocked her hip and thrust out her breasts in her best Marilyn Monroe sex kitten pose. She felt ridiculous.

Granted she’d only ever done the pose in her bathroom, with the door closed.

But by the way Reiner’s eyes dilated and his nostrils flared, he liked it.

“You were naked under that dress?” He growled, a hint of his Norwegian accent came through.

God, she loved his accent.

“Lines,” she breathed out.

He stepped back into her personal space and backed her up until her legs hit the back of her couch.

“I’m not going to be able to go slow this first time. I’m going to fuck you, and it’s going to be fast, hard, and dirty. You good with that?” He growled, actually growled at her.

She hadn’t thought it was possible for her nipples to get any harder, yet they did, while she grew ever wetter at his words.

She nodded, unable to form coherent thoughts.

It was all he needed. His mouth descended on hers, taking, demanding, consuming her.

His hands were on her breasts, her hips, her thighs, everywhere. She squirmed in his hands, needing more. Her fingers slid to his shirt and plucked at the buttons. She got one unhooked before he gripped her thigh, hooking her leg around his hip.

She no longer had the patience to mess with his shirt and grasped the already partially open ends and pulled. Buttons popped and pinged as they hit the floor, and she shoved his shirt off his shoulders and ran her hands all over his naked chest, discovering all the grooves in his rock hard abdomen and chest.

She’d known there was ink on his chest and arms, she’d seen them in an underwear ad he’d done, and in that Body issue spread. She couldn’t wait to run her tongue all over his tattoos.

He moved his mouth to her jaw and skimmed it, then her throat, moving down her body. He bent her back over the couch, giving him easier access to her openness. His mouth latched onto one of her breasts, she tightened her fingers in his hair, holding him there.

She needed more.

She found his belt and tried to unbuckle it. Her fingers had barely touched the leather before his hands brushed hers away, making quick work of the belt, and then he was falling into her hands. Her grip was sure, even though she felt anything but.

Reiner made her feel bold.

“Protection?” He growled against her hot skin.

“Pill,” she got out. She never had sex without a condom, but if Reiner wasn’t inside of her soon she was going to go up in flames. “I’m good,” she whispered.

“Me, too,” he said into her neck.

His hand at her leg lifted her higher, opening her to his invasion. The plump head of his cock brushed at her entrance, eliciting a moan from her. But he wasn’t in yet. She needed him. “Now,” she ordered against his lips.

“As my lady commands.”

She could feel his smile against her lips. Her smart-ass remark was lost when Reiner pushed all the way in, feeding her inch after inch until he was seated to the hilt.

She wrapped her other leg around his waist and hooked her ankles, holding him inside and tightening her muscles. He felt so good, she never wanted him to leave her.

“Emma,” he groaned, not moving, not yet. He pressed his forehead to hers, resting for a moment. Did he need to gather his breath? Was it possible that Reiner was as affected by this as she was?

He walked them until her back hit a wall, and then he was moving inside of her.

“Just like that Em, don’t fucking move.” His hands were under her ass, her legs were gripping his hips, and she was crashing over the edge.

Reiner chuckled. “Oh, Emma, I’m nowhere near done with you.” He lifted her higher, changed his angle, and she gasped. Her eyes flew open, and she looked down to where they were joined. She’d never looked when she had sex, preferring to keep her eyes closed. She could admit now, as Reiner moved inside of her, his hands gripping her thighs, holding her in place, that it was because she’d been imagining it was him in her bed, instead of the men she’d been with at the time. Her imagination had nothing on the real thing.

His mouth was back on her breasts, sucking and driving her insane. His hips pistoned against her until she couldn’t take any more. She screamed his name as she came, but still he didn’t let up. While she wanted nothing more than to melt into the floor and lay in a boneless heap, he worked her body. Within seconds she was climbing again. Reiner pressed a finger against her clit, and she screamed her orgasm to the room. Her throat was hoarse, but still he kept his promise. He wasn’t finished with her.

Reiner slid her legs to the floor, but she couldn’t hold herself up. Didn’t matter, he turned her and bent her over the arm of the sofa and entered her again. His fingers bit into her hips as he slammed into her again and again.

The new position and deeper angle had Emma close again. He leaned across her back, and bit her neck, soothing it with his tongue. Emma lost it. She bucked against him, unable to do much more than lay there and take it. She chanted his name over and over until he stiffened against her and found his release. She felt him come inside of her. Something she’d never felt before, and something she wanted more of. Oh, yeah, when she’d claimed him, she’d meant it. Reiner wasn’t going to get away from her. He was hers.

Reiner rested his head against her back, and struggled to breathe. He’d just taken Emma against her wall. And her couch. It was the hottest fucking sex he’d ever had. Without a condom at that. By the gods, the woman got inside his head. He’d never gone bareback, but now he never wanted to go back to condoms. Shit, he never wanted sex with anyone else. It was just Emma. She was it for him.

He couldn’t wait for more.