I’d waited a year and a half to have sex with the first man I’d slept with. Eight months with the second. Seven months with Riley. And maybe an hour with this guy Bennett, who I was damn lucky had been sane. I’d read cases in law school about murder victims who’d done what I did last night.

I’d been stupid, careless, and impulsive. And my walk of shame would take me to my office, where my bucket was likely full of rainwater and Riley would be taking over his new job.

Hell. It wasn’t my finest hour. But I’d still have to pop some Tylenol and do this thing.

I crumpled up Bennett’s note and tossed it in my bathroom trash can. Someday this lapse in judgment would be a distant memory.

Two months later

Bennett

“Hurry up. I need that big cock in my mouth.”

I arched a brow at the woman next to me on my doorstep. Alayna was hot and her panties had hit the floor as soon as I told her I was on the Flyers. But I kind of wished she’d stop talking.

“I’m gonna suck it like a big, fat lollipop,” she said, grabbing at my crotch. “You want me to suck that lollipop, papi?”

Ugh. What I wanted was for her to shut the fuck up. I turned the door handle and slid to the side until her death grip on my junk loosened.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” I said, slipping off my leather coat. “My roommate’s gone.”

Alayna pouted. “That’s too bad. I would’ve done both of you.”

She kicked off her high heels and pulled her shirt off over her head. Her big tits spilled out of a tight red bra. They filled up my large hands, and I groaned with satisfaction when I realized they were real.

This was just what I needed. A hot, willing woman to get my mind off Charlotte. I’d waited a month for her to call me, not looking twice at another woman the whole time. Hell, I’d even had Liam call my phone one evening so I could make sure it was working.

But nothing. She’d never so much as texted. The second month, I’d decided to put it behind me and move on, but it’d been harder than I’d expected.

I was still thinking about those curls. That laugh. And the way she’d felt in my arms that night. But apparently none of it had meant a thing to her.

“Will you wear your mask thing?” Alayna asked me.

“My mask thing?”

“Yeah, you know . . . the hockey mask.”

I furrowed my brow, confused. “You want me to fuck you with my mask on?”

“Oh, yeah. And maybe you could wear your jersey, too?” She licked her lips.

Fuck this. It was turning into more trouble than it was worth.

“Uh . . . my gear’s all at the rink,” I said.

Her face fell. I was trying to think of a way to get rid of her when someone knocked on my door. When I opened it, my mouth fell open with shock.

“Charlotte?”

It wasn’t just seeing her that surprised the hell out of me, but also the way she looked. Even in the dim glow of the porch light, I could see that something was up. Her arms were wrapped protectively around herself. She was pale, with dark circles under her eyes.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

She nodded. “I need to talk to you.”

I blew out a breath, cursing myself for bringing Alayna home. Charlotte would be gone as fast as she’d arrived when she saw her.

“Uh . . . it’s kind of not a great time. Can I—”


Tags: Brenda Rothert On the Line Romance