The Goal(Off-Campus #4)(9)

By: Elle Kennedy

“I’m not into relationships,” she says bluntly. “If we do this—”

“Do what?” I can’t help but tease.

“This. Don’t play dumb, Tucker. You’re better than that.”

A laugh pops out. “Fair enough. All right…” I wave a hand. “Go on…”

“If we do this,” she repeats, “it’s sex only. No awkward morning after. No phone numbers.”

I give her one last caress before releasing her, letting her read into my silence what she needs to. I highly doubt that one time is going to be enough for either of us, but if that’s what she needs to believe tonight, I’m okay with that.

“Let’s go then.”

Her lips curve. “Now?”

“Now.” I moisten my bottom lip with my tongue. “Unless you want to sit here a while longer and keep dancing around the fact that we want to rip each other’s clothes off.”

She lets out a throaty laugh that goes straight to my balls. “Very good point, Tucker.”

Lord. I love the way my name rolls off those full, pouty lips. Maybe I’ll ask her to say it when I’m making her come.

The need surging through me is so strong I have to squeeze my ass cheeks together and breathe through my nose to try to curb it. I take Sabrina’s elbow and muscle my way to the door. A few people call out my name or pat me on the back to tell me good game. I ignore them all.

Outside, it’s still pouring. I pull Sabrina close and raise my black-and-silver hockey jacket over her head. Fortunately, my truck is nearby. “Over here.”

“Nice parking spot,” she comments.

“Can’t complain.” It’s a perk of being a starter on a championship-winning college hockey team.

I help her into the truck, then slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine. “Where to?”

She shivers a little, though I’m not sure if it’s from the cold or for another reason. “I live in Boston.”

“My place then.” Because there’s no fucking way I can wait the hour it’ll take to drive to the city. My dick will explode.

She puts her hand on my wrist before I can shift into reverse. “You live with Dean. That’s not going to be uncomfortable for you?”

“No, why would it?”

“I don’t know.” Her index finger slides forward to rub my knuckles.

I grit my teeth as my erection nearly breaks through the zipper. The only reason I didn’t kiss her the second we were outside the bar is because if I’d started, I probably would’ve taken her against the side of the building. But now she’s touching me, and my self-control is more elusive than a puff of steam.

“Let’s do it here,” she says decisively.

I frown. “In the truck?”

“Why not? Do you need candles and rose petals? It’s just sex,” she insists.

“Darlin’, you keep saying that and I’m going to start wondering if it’s really me you want to convince.” My breath catches when her thumb strokes a tiny circle in the center of my palm. Fuck it. I need her too bad. “But fine. You want to do me in this truck, then the truck it is.”

Without another word, I reach beneath me and push the seat back as far as it can go. Then I shrug out of my jacket and toss it into the backseat.

“You got any guidelines for your just-sex hookups?” I drawl. “Like no kissing on the lips?”

“Hell, no. Do I look like Julia Roberts?”

I scrunch up my eyebrows.

“Pretty Woman?” she prompts. “Hooker with the heart of gold? No kissing the johns?”

I grin. “So what you’re saying is that you’ll kiss this John?” I tap my chest so she knows I’m referring to my name and not implying that she’s a hooker.

She snickers. “If you don’t kiss me, I’ll be pissed. I need kissing. Otherwise I’d just stay at home with my vibe.”

A smile creeps across my face. With my back against the window and my boot up on the console, I create a cradle for her hot body and beckon her toward me. “Then come and get what you need.”



Tucker sits there with a slight smile on his face and a huge erection in his pants. My tongue sneaks out to wet my lips as excitement buzzes through my veins. God, that monster is going to feel so good inside me.

My gaze falls to his neatly trimmed beard, and I wonder, briefly, whether I should’ve given Carin a shot at him. After all, beards were on her bucket list. But now I’m wondering what that scruff would feel like between my legs. Soft? Scratchy? I squeeze my thighs together in anticipation.

Hope and Carin were so right. I do need to get laid, and hockey player or not, I believe Tucker is the guy for the job. He has confidence without the ego, which is the biggest turn-on ever. When he’d said “you” in response to my question about what he wanted, I nearly came in my panties.

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