“I don’t think I’ll need it,” she told him between quick, eager kisses. “Put your hand in my panties. Feel how wet I am right now.”
Damn, what an invitation. She shifted in his lap and he slid his hand down, searching through the layers of her uniform to find skin. When he found her stomach, he delved down and . . . god, she was soaking wet. So fucking wet that his fingers were coated. “Oh, yeah,” he murmured, and kissed her neck. She smelled like sweat and flowers and it was fucking incredible. “You’re wet as hell.”
“Feels good,” she murmured, and began to rock her hips against his fingers as she kissed him again. “I don’t know if I want your fingers inside me or your cock.”
He stilled, mentally going through the contents of his wallet. He hadn’t dated in a while and had taken out the last condom. “I don’t have any protection on me.” And since she wasn’t into sex before now, it was likely she wasn’t on birth control.
She rocked on his hand, her nipples scraping against the front of his shirt. “Then you finger me until I get off, huh? And then when we get home, I get you off?”
His cock pulsed in response to the offer. “Whatever you want to do.”
She bit her lip and then leaned forward and scraped her breasts against his chest again. “I think I want your fingers on my clit.”
He could do that. Sebastian slid his fingers through her warmth, then pulled back, seeking the tiny bump of her clit. He could tell immediately when he hit it, because she hissed with pleasure, and her hands went around his shoulders, clinging to him.
“Oh, god. Right there.” Her eyes closed and she tilted her head back. And god, she was fucking gorgeous and wanton, and it made his dick ache so hard he didn’t think he’d ever be able to stand again. He didn’t care, though. He just rubbed two fingers around her clit, circling it and trying to figure out what kind of stroke she liked best.
Her breasts jiggled before his eyes as she rocked her hips against his hand, and they were close enough to be a temptation, but too far for his mouth to reach. “Cup your breasts,” he told her. “Feed those pretty nipples to me.”
“Mmm,” she moaned, riding his hand. One of her hands slid up her uniform to cup her breast, pointing her nipple toward him.
He leaned forward and latched on to the peak, his hand at the small of her back to anchor her, the other still working her clit as she straddled him. The tiny bud was taut in his mouth, and as he flicked his tongue over it, she gasped. Her hips began to move faster, and then she was grinding against his hand, moaning his name. Encouraged by her wanton response, he scraped his teeth over her nipple, dragging them over the sensitive peak.
“Keep . . . touching . . . me,” she encouraged, her hand going to his hair and twining her fingers in it. He continued to lavish attention on her breast, stroking her clit with firm, quick movements as she rotated her hips against him. Her movements grew more and more frantic, until she was whimpering against him, and he could feel tension building in her legs as they clenched around him. “Oh, god,” she whimpered in a small voice. “Oh, god. Oh, Sebastian. Oh, god. I’m going to come. Oh, god. Oh, god.”
Someone tried to open the locker room door, and then began to bang on the door.
Sebastian ignored it. His girl was about to come so hard while riding him, and he wasn’t going to give that up for anything. His fingers moved faster, his strokes becoming rougher and deeper. He continued to work her nipple with his mouth, teeth, and tongue, flicking, licking, and then sucking on the hard little tip. She kept riding him, but she seemed to need more. So he thrust a finger deep inside her and seated his thumb against her clit, rubbing it back and forth.
A high, keening sound escaped her throat as someone knocked on the door. Chelsea shuddered against him, and her thighs felt like iron around his hips, squeezing him as she came. All the while, he kept working her with his hands and mouth, so fucking aroused and proud of her.
She’d rode him like a fucking champ.
And granted, it was only his hand, but it was a step in the right direction. She continued to rock her hips against his hand a moment longer, then let out a long, boneless sigh and moved both of her hands to his hair, hugging him against her. “Oh, god, Basty, that was incredible.”
He pressed kisses to her neck. “You’re trying to kill my erection with that shit nickname, aren’t you?”
She giggled, the sound so confident and sweet that it made his chest ache to hear it. “Like nails on a chalkboard?”
“Like plaid and sofas. Sex and that name do not go together.”
“Oh, baby.” She patted his shoulder. “There you go again with one of those terrible comparisons. We really need to get you a book on them.”
The door pounded. “Hey,” someone bellowed. “Open the fuck up! This is our locker room!”
“Gimme just a minute,” Chelsea called.
“That you, Chesty?”
“It’s me,” she yelled, and began to pull up her uniform. She reached into the front and tucked her breasts back into her bra, then sighed and gave one last wiggle when he pulled his hand free from her panties.
“How long until we make it home?” Sebastian asked as she got off his lap. He stood up and adjusted himself, tucking the head of his cock into the waistband of his pants to try and hide his arousal. It was uncomfortable as all fuck, but it was just another thing he’d endure for her.
He’d endure everything for her.
She giggled again and pointed at the front of his pants. “Um. There’s a wet spot there from me.” Her cheeks were flushed a pretty pink. “Sorry about that.”
“I’m not,” he said, untucking his shirt to let it hide the evidence. He leaned in and kissed her again.
“We’ll be home soon,” she promised, and there was an excited light in her eyes that promised very soon, indeed.
Chapter Twenty
Chelsea practically wiggled with a mixture of joy and anticipation the entire time Coach Black HellVet talked to the team. Sure, there was celebrating and cheering, as well as a few pointers on where to improve for the next game. All Chelsea could think about was Sebastian.
Sebastian with his hot, sexy mouth, his awesome fingers, and the way he’d pushed her to an orgasm after she’d climbed all over him. Oh, Sebastian.
She hadn’t even cared that the other Rag Queens gave her hell for locking them out of the locker room and then being mussed and tousled when she opened the door with a man in tow. She’d just grinned and sent Sebastian out to wait for her. They’d ride the subway home together and then she’d climb all over him again for round two.
She’d had an orgasm. She’d enjoyed kissing.
These were milestones.
Chelsea felt alive again. Normal. She’d had no idea why she’d attacked Sebastian like that. She’d just been on a euphoric high after the buzzer went off and the Rag Queens had come back from behind to win. She’d skated around the track one last time and as the crowd had surged forward to congratulate them, she’d looked for Sebastian. His was the face she’d wanted to see more than anything, and when she’d saw the shining pride in his gaze and his excitement that she’d won . . .
It had been a major turn on for her. She’d grabbed him and kissed him, and she’d felt . . . something.
She’d felt all kinds of things, really.
And it had been incredible. She’d liked kissing him. No, scratch that, she’d loved kissing him. Loved it. Wanted more of it. Wanted to devour him on the floor right then and there. Wanted to grab him by the collar and kiss him until she was blue in the face and her lips hurt from mashing them against his. She wanted to kiss for hours and hours on end.