ugly duckling – Carla Swafford, Author

I felt like it was time to share an excerpt from Fake Play.

First, here’s the blurb.

Nothing like waking up in Vegas wearing only a gigantic diamond ring while sprawled out next to an equally naked stranger.

Connor Ellison

Yeah, yeah, I’m Atlanta Edge’s best winger and biggest prankster, but the coaches and PR department have given me an ultimatum: I must own up to my ill-considered stunt and stay married until the end of the run for the Cup or I’ll find myself being traded.

Lily Jones

I want nothing to do with his insane demand. But he convinces me the best decision is to play along. If we remain married and pretend to be in love, he’s offer to save my ice rink from bankruptcy. What’s another sacrifice for my family? I can put up with him until the end of the hockey season. Then we can go our separate ways.

Easy-peasy. No way will they go to the finals. And it’s not like we’ll fall in love or anything.

Now for the excerpt.

   “You like what you see?” He lifts his arms.
   “Yes. I like looking at you.” I spot several ugly bruises on his ribs, right shin—the area that at times becomes exposed between the skate and pads—and in the middle of his chest. That one worries me. He got it as a result of a slap shot during the game in Toronto. I watched it on the wide screen TV above the concession stand at work. I cringed when he blocked it, even pads can’t protect a person from a dark bruise. Without pads, he would most likely have been badly injured or dead. “What did your trainer say?”
   “He iced it. He’ll check it again before the game tomorrow.” He runs a finger across my lips. “I’m okay.”
   Nodding, I rub my hands over and down his chest, avoiding the bruise. “You’re more than okay.”
   He chuckles.
   The sparse hairs tickle my palms as I follow the thicker trail to his stomach. He sucks in air. I know it’s not to hide a beer gut, he doesn’t have one, but from my light touch. His cock, still hard from my play, jerks as if reaching for my hand.
   My lips quiver.
   “Are you laughing at my dick? You better not.” His teasing tone causes my lips to quirk up into a big smile for a second.
   “I would never laugh at your beautiful penis.” I stroke it with the tips of my fingers and glance up for a moment.
   What is it about him that makes me want to pet and play with him? I’ve never really been comfortable doing all of this foreplay. Not that I haven’t. If you want a real relationship with a man, you know sex in many variations will be involved. They are sexual beings, and treat it like food and air. Just a part of living. While most women require their emotions to be engaged.
   Though I will admit, I find I prefer sex over sharing feelings, but at the same time, I like to ignore both whenever possible. I guess that’s another reason my boyfriends break up with me. They often said I’m hard to read. But with Connor, he’s different. That’s why I decided to go to bed with him even knowing mentally a divorce will be more difficult.
He gets me.
   Oddly, none of my old boyfriends played hockey. Oh, they watched it, but that’s not the same. Maybe it’s the reason I feel closer to Connor. He understands the pressure and the dedication of the sport.
   Why am I thinking of hockey when I’m touching this sexy man’s cock?
   “You’re grinning again. You really need to stop before it hurts my ego.”
   “I doubt I can do much damage. It’s a pretty big ego.
   “Thank you, but it’s average for my height. Obviously, the other men in your life were sad representations of manhood.”
   No longer able to hold back, I laugh so hard tears come to my eyes. He joins in. This is the strangest foreplay I’ve ever been part of.
   While still laughing with me, he pushes on my shoulders and my arms windmill as I land on the bed.
   “Perfect. The way I want you. Legs and arms spread out.” Before I can feel any embarrassment at my unladylike display, he lands on top, being careful to catch himself before flattening me. “If I had known you were so much fun in bed, I wouldn’t have waited so long.”
   “Who says I’d willingly fall in bed with you before today?”
   I’ve never imagined being naked in bed with such a sexy man and comfortably talking about our bodies. I feel a low boil of excitement and yearning. Yet, I’m not afraid of coming across as naive and ungraceful as I usually do in intimate times like this. Our attitude is like old friends enjoying each other’s bodies. Is this how it is to have a friend with benefits? Though we’re married, it’s only a technicality.