Between the Pipes

Chapter 17

Sarah tidied her bedroom and made up the queen bed with clean sheets. The blue and white looked fresh and inviting. She wasn't sure how the evening would go, but with any luck, the covers would be mussed by the end of the night.

She went downstairs and finished the preparations for the meal. When the doorbell rang, she rubbed sweaty palms on her thighs and went to answer the door.

Mike looked relaxed in jeans and a sweater. "Hi. For you." He handed her flowers and kissed her hello.

"Hi." She leaned in. When she pressed against his hard chest, flat stomach, and bulging thighs, sensation exploded in her head. The kiss promptly went from a chaste hello to "why do we still have clothes on?" hot.

She broke away to toss the flowers on the side table, then used two hands to push his coat off his shoulders. The corded muscle of his arms rippled under her touch.

His hands roamed over her back and across her butt as he trailed kisses along her jaw. "I'll never get enough of the taste of you." He skimmed under her sweater, following the curve of her breast and brushing a thumb against the taut nipple. "You're so warm."

A tingle ran down her spine. "I'll never get enough of your touch." Her breasts grew heavy. His tongue scraped along her lower lip and nipped. A lovely pull started low in her belly and swirled in her chest. "How hungry are you?" She reached between them and lowered the zipper of his jeans. When she stroked, he hardened.

"Always hungry for you." His voice was raspy with need.

She jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. He caught her close and spun toward the door to head upstairs.

"Now. Here. Please."

His lips crushed hers as he pressed her against the doorframe.

She groaned. "We need a condom."

He shifted her weight, fished into his pocket with one hand, and grinned, holding one up. She took it, ripped it open, and rolled it on him with both hands. He was throbbing by the time she finished. When he thrust inside, she rocked against him.

His arms around her were like steel, bunching and flexing as he held her. She clung to his shoulders and pumped her hips. The need to take him deeper, taste his skin, inhale his scent, clawed at her. His skin was slick under her hands and she arched. Sensation crashed in waves, and they spiralled over the edge. Breathless, they waited for the vibrations that rocked them both to settle. Her whole world tipped and tilted, and she clung to him, out of breath and totally enamoured.

"Give me a minute." He wrapped one arm around her and braced the other against the wall.

"I hear athletes recover quickly." She licked his neck.

He squirmed with a chuckle. "Generally. But you pack a punch."

She smiled and planted a kiss on his cheek. "So do you." She sighed contentedly.

He loosened his hold, and her feet touched the floor. "I should probably check on dinner. This time I won't ask if you're hungry," she said, stroking his cheek.

He looked adorably ruffled. She stepped away and almost purred in her throat at the sight of his naked body. Hers, all hers. At least for the moment. She hoped longer, but the sticky topic of hockey had yet to be raised.