Behind the Net (Vancouver Storm, #1)

by Stephanie Archer

Pippa blinks. “He’s watching.” I arch a brow, and my gaze falls to her lips. I know how soft her mouth is. I’ve replayed it a hundred times. “Only if you want to.” “Yeah,” she breathes, nodding, and when I lift my gaze to hers, she’s looking at my mouth. “If he’s watching, we should.” “Mhm.” “Okay. I’m going to kiss you now.” My hand comes to the back of her head and I gently pull her forward. Our kiss is different this time. Less urgent, less frantic, although I feel all those things beating against the front wall of my chest, urging me to take her mouth, but no. I want to savor this one, because just like her sitting in my lap, we’ll never get another shot. After tonight, she’ll never see that loser again, and my opportunities to touch her will drop to zero. I kiss Pippa like I mean it. Like she’s air and I’m about to suffocate. Her hands fist my collar and pull me closer to her, and I nip her bottom lip before I taste her again. I kiss her like we have forever. I know we don’t. We have maybe thirty seconds more of this if I’m lucky. She sighs into me like she’s been thinking about this all week, too. Everything falls away—the people, the music, everything except the feel of her mouth under mine, her pressed against me, my hands in her hair. She’s so fucking sweet. Her tongue slips into my mouth, and I’m leaking pre-cum in my boxers. I suck her tongue, and she whimpers. I could make her come so fucking fast. I’d do it over and over until she begged for a rest. “Pippa,” I...