Rinkmates: A steamy Hockey Romance (The Mates series Book 1)

Riley’s eyes burn into me from across the room, his brows knitted together in a deep scowl. It’s like he’s trying to send a message, but I’m too angry to decode it.

I tear my gaze away, pretending to focus on the guy in front of me, who’s babbling on about his…ducks? Who gives a shit. All I can think about is how badly I want to make Riley squirm after the stunt he pulled today. Childish? Maybe. Worth it? Absolutely.

And really, what’s the worst that could happen in seven minutes? I glance around at the other hockey guys I’ve been chatting up all night. They seem harmless enough. Riley’s teammates would never try anything sketchy. But I down another drink, nerves fraying.

My stomach twists into knots as the first girl reaches into the bowl and draws out a watch. I hold my breath, watching intently to see which guy she picked. Not Riley. Please not Riley. It’s Colton. Thank God.

The lucky couple disappears into the closet and emerges exactly seven minutes later, faces flushed. This goes on for several rounds. Some couples make a beeline for the door once they get out, clearly eager to take things further. Others head upstairs—apparently this party house has plenty of rooms for exactly that purpose. But there are some who quickly chat up with others.

Derek thrusts the bowl toward me, and I hesitate, my hand hovering over the tangle of watches. Shit. Riley’s penetrating gaze bores into me, silently warning me not to do it.

But screw him.

I’m so sick of his head games.

My pulse races as I snatch a watch and drop it into Derek’s open palm, my heart thudding wildly in my chest. “Great choice.”

“Whose is it?” I know it’s not Riley’s. He’s got a red rim around the clock face. I can’t lie that I’m disappointed. But it’s the game. A kiss won’t hurt, right?

Maybe kissing someone else will help us. Maybe that’s what we need to fix whatever wires got crossed between us.

Derek puts his hand on the small of my back. I turn to see Riley, and he’s either trying to kill the person whose hand is on my back with his gaze alone or me. I suddenly can’t lie to myself anymore. I want to kiss him. No one else. But Derek leads me to the closet anyway, and doubts flood my mind even more. What the hell am I doing? This is my first swinger party, and I’m about to take part in a game that could go horribly wrong. I should back out now before it’s too late.

But then I think of Riley’s face if I bail. I don’t want him to be right. No. I’d rather kiss another guy than admit I was wrong. The only intelligent choice here, am I right?

Shoot. I’m an idiot.

Derek shuts the door behind me, leaving only a faint red glow to illuminate the room.

It’s empty—just me and my pounding heart.

My thoughts spiral into a frenzy. What if Riley never looks at me the same way again? What if this ruins everything? But then I recall his infuriating smirk, that knowing look that makes it clear my heart beats only for him these days. My resolve stiffens.

I’m going through with this.

But instead of a stranger’s face, it’s Riley who steps in, his expression rugged.

A sigh of relief escapes my lips and I realize how much I desire him. Despite everything inside of me screaming that he is off limits, I can’t help but want him more than anything else.

He slams the door shut. “Surprised to see me?” There’s nothing nice in his voice, not a hint of that joking side of his.

“Disappointed, actually. I was hoping for someone else.” Oh, what a lie.

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Well, too bad. I’m the only one for you. And I’ll make you pay for putting me through this.”

I stumble backward until my spine hits the unforgiving wall.

The look on his face—pure hate and bliss—makes my heart expand and my skin prickle.

Riley’s presence fills every inch of the room, shrinking its already small space.

He strides toward me with hungry eyes and slams me against the wall. He grabs my wrists, yanking them above my head in a vise-like grip while his strong body holds me captive, not giving an inch of mercy.

And then his mouth crashes onto mine in a bruising kiss that takes all the air in my lunge.

I try to resist, but my body melts against his strong touch, unable to fight the firestorms that race through my veins. I can’t move anymore, feeling nothing but all of him against all of me. I’m just standing there, letting him fight with my mouth until I manage to bite his lips.

He pauses, and we both take deep breaths as if we’ve just finished a marathon.

“I hate you,” I growl against his mouth, but he stops me from speaking with his.

“Oh yeah?” he breathes. “Then say it again. Lie to my face once more.” His hands roam over my boobs. He squeezes them so hard it hurts, but it also feels so good. I hate it, but a sigh escapes me, and he knows just how much I want this.

“Say it again.”

“I hate you.”

He grips both of my hands with one, the other impatiently fumbles at my skirt. With a mischievous smile, he swiftly rips off my panties.

I gasp. “It’s the only lacy one I own.”

“I don’t fucking care,” he growls, and I should hate the way he says it. This angry bark. The way he pins me down like I have nothing to say, that I should know he weighs way more than me. That he can do anything he wants, and I have no chance against him, but I don’t hate it. I love it.

His fingers bore into my pussy. “If you hate me, why is your pussy so wet for me?”

I don’t say anything and try with all I’ve got to stare back at him with the hate in my eyes I always tell him I have for him. He keeps one hand clasped above my head and moves the other down to grip my chin.

His hips press so hard against me that I cry out. “If you hate me, why do your eyes plead with me to kiss you? Why is your body arching against mine? Why is your pussy pressing into my hand, huh?”

I have no answer. None I could say out loud.

“You like me.” His lip crashes against mine again. Hard.

I bite his lip again. “You wish.”

His words ignite something deep inside me, and suddenly I’m kissing him back with equal fervor. Our tongues battle for dominance as he pushes me against the wall again and again. Moans and gasps fill the air around us as thighs grind against thighs, skin slides against skin. I reach down and touch him through the denim, eliciting a low groan from his throat.

I could feel his throbbing erection straining against his tight jeans, pulsating with need. I couldn’t resist teasing him, rubbing my hand over the bulge and feeling it grow harder under my touch. He leans in close, scraping his teeth along my neck. My desire is building as I eagerly unbutton his jeans. Suddenly, he pushes me back and I fall to my knees.

As I gaze up at him, his hands splayed against the wall above me, I can see the lust in his eyes as he whispers, “Don’t forget your promise.” He presses his rock-hard dick against my parted lips. “Next time you see it,” he breathes, “you’d kiss it.”

There’s a wetness between my legs, an otherworldly ache in my core growing with every passing second and I can’t wait anymore. My breath catches in my throat as I free his hard cock.

It springs forth, long and thick, and veined and pulsing with need.

The skin is a deep shade of rose, and when I fist it, I draw a finger over its head—a smooth, glistening dome. He throws his head back, moaning, and my finger gets draped in precum. The scent of his arousal fills my nose—musky and masculine, combining with the faint tang of soap from his shower earlier. It’s a heady aroma that makes me flush with desire. And shit. I can’t help but stare for a moment before leaning in. I press a long kiss on it, make sure I envelope it with my plush lips, and when he presses against it even harder, I gasp.

I raise my eyes to meet his intense stare. He looks at me as if he wants to consume me entirely. “Fuck, you look gorgeous,” he whispers.

I wrap my hand around his erection, never breaking our eye contact.

He grasps onto my hair with enough force to make me feel a slight twinge of pain. “Take it,” he commands, pulling my head toward his groin again.

“I only promised to kiss it,” I whisper, but I have to hold myself back to not kiss it again, to not swallow it whole.

That look on his face is killing me.

“Take. It. I. Said,” he says, frantic.

“Make me.”

“Fine but I’m going to be honest with you,” he says. “I’m not going to be gentle, so if you can’t handle rough, speak up and I’ll go.”

“I love it rough. Bring it on,” I say.

He grips my hair even harder and shoves his penis against my mouth until it breaks through my lips and down my throat. He pushes my head against his groin until we slam against the wall together. Tears sting my eyes, and I place my hands at his thighs, steadying myself. I take him fully into my mouth, swirling my tongue around his shaft as I bob forth and back.

“Fuck, just like that,” he says, guiding my head with his hands.

I hollow my cheeks and suck harder, spurred on by his praise.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

I want to make him feel good.

I take him deeper into my mouth, my lips sliding down his shaft as my tongue swirls around the base. He groans and his hips buck. I can hear the wet sounds of my mouth on his cock, the sloppy, messy noises that are so fucking hot. I know he loves it, I can feel the way his breath hitches every time I take him deeper, my throat constricting around him. I gag, but I don’t care.

My hands roam his body and trace the contours of his abs. I can feel the tension in his muscles, the way they tighten and flex as he nears the edge of release. And when he finally comes, it’s with a roar, his cum hot and thick. It fills my mouth and I swallow it down.

“Fuck,” he says, tremors still shooting through him. “Fuck, Liora. What the fuck.”

I pull back, licking my lips, and I look up at him once more, my eyes still oh so heavy with desire. He pulls me to my feet, crushing his lips to mine as he tastes himself on my tongue. It’s dirty and filthy and so hot. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard, this was the best blow job I ever got,” he says, but the door swings open.

“Hate to say it, champ, but your time is up.”

If looks could kill, Derek would be a dead man now.

The minute we’re out, Riley says, “We’re leaving. Now.”

“I need to grab my jacket,” I protest.

“Leave it here.” He tugs me toward the door, but I resist. “Riley, I honestly thought you’d never ask, and I can’t wait to go home with you, but I need this jacket.”

Not only did he tear my panties, but now this. Doesn’t he realize these are the only clothes I have?

He sighs but nods toward the coat check. “Quick. I’m bursting.”

I laugh and dash over to get my jacket as he pulls out his phone to get us an Uber.

The attendant is busy sorting tickets, and it takes a minute to get his attention.

Finally, I snag my jacket and hurry back, only to find some sneaky girl trying to flirt her way into Riley’s heart. He doesn’t look interested, but I just swallowed his cum. There’s no girl talking to him tonight but me.

I stride toward him, grab him by the collar, and yank him away from her, crashing my lips into his with enough intensity to make the girl sigh in annoyance.

I break the kiss and glance at her.

“Sorry, licked it, it’s mine.”

Then I wink at her, grab my man’s hand, and get him out.

ASAP.