Tuesday, June 13, 2023

#NewRelease #KindleUnlimited - Delay of Game: A Bestfriend's Sister, College, Sports Romance (Penalty Series) by Cata Ree

Title: Delay of Game
Series: Penalty Series
Author: Cata Ree
Genre: Brother's Best Friend, College Hockey Romance (standalone)
Release Date: June 13, 2023
Cover Design Credit: Amy Queau @ Q Design Cover and Brand Premades

Everyone thinks I’m so sweet and innocent. Or worse, they just think of me as Jace’s little sister!

From the first moment I saw him I knew Conner, or Conny to his friends, was meant to be mine. There was an immediate connection between us. The desire in his eyes made me feel wanted and seen.

Then my damn brother had to step in and ruin it all. Now Conny has me pushed permanently into the friend-zone, despite me being old enough, attending the same school, and I suspect his own feelings too.

It’s a good thing I am determined and flat out refuse to give up on us being more without ever having tried.

My best friend’s little sister.. why did she have to be his little sister?!? She is the ultimate forbidden fruit. A fruit so juicy I want to devour her.

I can’t get her out of my mind. She has invaded every dream and almost all my waking thoughts too.

The only reprieve I get is when I’m on the ice. My mind is focused there. I have to be because It’s just Me versus a flying piece of hardened rubber. No matter how good my teammates are, if I’m off my game we lose, and I’m no loser.

Once I’m off the ice again though, SHE floods my thoughts once more. You’d think with pucks being shot at me all the time, that I wouldn’t be afraid of anything. So.. than why does my feelings for Jayme scare me so much?

Usually, the noise wouldn’t bother me at all, but this time, it just grates on me. Finding an empty spot off to the side, I lean against the wall, folding my arms over my chest while scanning the crowd. 

Like she has some kind of magnetic pull, her energy and presence capture my attention and focus. I’m always drawn to wherever she is, no matter the situation or circumstances. This time is no different.

I instantly find her and start tracking her every movement. She’s the life of the party, dancing freely with her arms raised in the air. She flows with the beat, moving her body in a hypnotic sway. Her head is tilted back, her eyes are closed, and she wears a joyous smile. It’s like she doesn’t have a care in the world. She's dancing for herself, not giving a damn what anyone thinks or if they're watching her or not. 

I let my eyes caress over her, starting at the tips of her fingers. I fixate on her hands, recalling how many times I’ve stroked myself wishing they were her fingers instead of my own. I’ve tried to imagine what her much smaller hands would feel like squeezing and gliding over my hard cock.

Just the memories of all those times have my pants tightening again. My little time-out earlier helped relieve some of the pressure, but any reprieve I had is long gone. I’m in a constant state of painful arousal anytime she's near. 

Glancing down her arms, I'm reminded of her hugs and what it feels like to have them wrapped around me, while mine are wrapped around her. It’s like she belongs there. I’ve never felt anything else like it. It’s like a piece I didn’t know was missing has suddenly slotted itself back into place and I’m whole for the first time in my life.

Her long dark hair flows around her in waves. It looks soft and grazes her neck. I crave digging my fingers into her hair, burying my face in it before tugging it firmly to allow more space for my lips to caress her neck. Taking my time, licking and kissing there, making her pant and moan in my ear while I whisper dirty words.

Jayme’s mouth has starred in nearly every dream I’ve had since I met her. Sometimes it’s reality-based memories of watching her lips while she talks or seeing her smile. More often lately, it dives into the realm of my fantasies. Everything from innocent thoughts of running my finger over her bottom lip, to kissing her senseless, to seeing her look up at me while she works those lips around me and swallows my length in her hot little mouth.

My eyes naturally skim down her throat, over her collarbones, and follow the edge of the scalloped neckline that teases over the swells of her high, firm, round breasts. I stare at them, envisioning the nipples hidden beneath. My mouth waters just thinking about sucking on them. I’d lick and suck on them, teasing them into little peaks. I’d pull on them with my lips and nip them with my teeth before sucking on them some more. I’d spend hours teasing them, working her into a beautiful needy mess, seeing if I could make her cum that way.

Her top ends partway up her stomach, leaving all that skin below bare. I want to kiss all of it, run my tongue over every inch. A new and startling image pops into my mind, one that warms me from the inside and fills me with longing. I can see Jayme laid out in our bed, her morning hair spread out over her pillow. I’m kissing and caressing her stomach, but instead of it being flat, it's rounded and filled with our baby. The idea is startling because I’ve never thought about having kids. I just know that I’d only ever want them with Jayme. 

I shake myself out of those thoughts. Thinking like that could be dangerous. 

Her body has turned away from me, and all I can see and think about is her ass. Her jeans look like they’re a second skin. Her ass and thighs aren’t skinny like some girls’. They're full and lush and mouthwatering. My hands tighten where I stand. I want to sink my fingers and my teeth into those fleshy globes. I want to grab hold of her ass and pull her hard into me. Run my hands down the back of her thick thighs, hoisting her up and splitting them wide around my body. Backing her into a wall so I can grind into her and show her what she does to me.

Still leaning against the wall, I keep staring but also begin to take in everyone else. I’m not the only one who’s noticed her. The eyes of damn near every other guy in the room have roamed over her body since I’ve taken notice.

She seems to be a magnet to other guys as well as me. Letting out a laugh to one of her friends, she doesn’t notice how their eyes follow her every move, lust clearly written on their faces. I want to beat that look clean off every single one of them.

While she’s only been dancing with her friends, I’ve managed not to let the looks she gets affect my outward appearance. I have to maintain my composure so I don’t give too much away. My staring is okay because if asked, I can just pass it off as being protective and watching out for her—like her brother asked. I’m not fooling myself, but at least I can pretend.

All the blood in my body heats up and begins to boil when one of these idiots gathers up enough courage to try and dance with her. He hasn’t gotten to her yet, but I can read his intent as he makes his way through the other dancers. Whether or not she eventually feels his proximity to her, Jayme’s eyes open and a lazy smile grows on her face. She welcomes him to dance with her. 

Jealousy crawls up my insides. They aren’t touching at all, just dancing in each other’s proximity. Even so, I don’t like it. But I stay where I am.

My attention is too focused on watching Sleazeball One that I don’t notice Sleazeball Two enter the picture. As soon as Jayme notices him, so do I. Just then, the music changes and slows down. Two bends to say something into her ear, to which she nods. Her hands go up to his neck, while his lands on her hips and pulls her closer.

His hands leave her hips and skip up and behind to her lower back. They're swaying back and forth to the music, but his thumb draws little circles on her exposed skin. 

My eyes are fixated on that thumb, and I’m starting to breathe heavily. My heart beats rapidly in my throat while that thumb circles around . . . and around . . . and around. 

That should be my thumb moving against her skin. It should be my neck that her hands are clasped behind. Not anyone else’s, and certainly not some asshat just looking to get laid.

Being hyperfixated on his hands, I see right away when his other starts to move lower. His open palms were already only inches away from her pert ass, and now they're trying to go even lower, maybe even dare to touch them.

 Something in me snaps. All I want to do is rip his hands off her. Not in my house, asshole!

Pushing quickly off the wall, I waste no time stalking towards them. Anger courses through every cell in my body. She’s mine! How dare this little piece of shit think he's worthy of putting his hands on her, let alone moving them somewhere they don’t belong. 

As if feeling me, Jayme turns her head towards me, and our eyes connect. Her gaze holds mischief and a bit of shock. By the time I reach them, her hands have already loosened from around his neck. I rest my hand on his shoulder to catch his attention, but ignoring me, he just gives me a nonchalant chin raise in greeting.

Unfortunately, I know this asshole. He’s an entitled prick off the basketball team. He isn’t that great a player and doesn’t put any effort in. He’s sure good at running his mouth, though, and makes out that he's the best athlete on campus. Whether or not he knows it, to the serious athletes, he’s a joke. That doesn’t stop him from using his athlete status to his advantage. Especially with the freshmen girls who haven’t learned of his other form of player habits. If he had a motto, it would be, fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em. 

I ignore his chin lift and respond by motioning my head towards the door, then through clenched teeth, I say, “You’re done here.” 

He looks confused for a second. “Dude, what the fuck? What are you talking about?” 

“I think it’s pretty clear what I said. You’re done here. Get out.” 

He gives a little snort of contempt and turns back around, ignoring me altogether.

I’ve been on edge all night. With Jayme being so close, the encounter with my father, and now this sleaze, my temper moves into high gear. I can feel the shift within me. I’m jonesing for a fight, and I would love nothing better than to bash this guy's teeth in if he pushes me too far. I just can’t be the one to throw the first punch. I know better than that. 

I roll my shoulders back, cracking my neck in the process. This time, I grab him more firmly on the shoulder. “Don’t make me say it again. Get out of my house right now.” 

Jayme must have seen the change in me and takes a big step back from him. This catches his attention. There’s a warning edge to her voice. “You better listen to him.” 

I’m not sure if her tone is directed towards me to calm down or towards him to stop being an ass and do as he’s told.  

“Whatever,” he says as he moves to Jayme and grabs her hand, aggressively pulling her back into him. 

That’s it. I’m not gentle or polite this time. I grab his shoulder hard and swing him towards the door, moving to put my body between him and Jayme.

Not liking my maneuvering him away from the girl he’d set his sights on, he turns and throws a punch at me. Even amongst other goalies, I’m fast, and it’s nothing for me to dodge his lame attempt.

After that swing, not many could argue he doesn’t deserve the punch I’ve been holding back. I cock my arm back, but just as I’m ready to let it fly, light fingers touch my back. Jayme moves out from behind me, and my gaze collides with hers. A silent plea in her eyes asks me to let it go. 

I can’t deny this girl anything. It’s like I’ve become hardwired to her. Everything about me no longer belongs to me. My body wants her. My soul wants her. My heart wants her. I want her.

I drop my arm, and the idiot rushes towards the door. He knows he’s lucky to get out unscathed. I could have pummeled him and not gotten in trouble for it. 

Once he’s through the front door, I round on Jayme. “Now,” I growl at her. 

A mixture of burning desire, anger, and jealousy push at me as I motion for her to follow me. Moving down the hall, I don’t look back. I know she’s there. I open the door to the bathroom and stand back so she can enter first. I step in and spin her body, caging her in as I shut the door with my foot and lock it. Her back hits the closed door as she looks up at me. Her chest heaves up and down, her dark eyes dilate, and she bites her lower lip.

I’m momentarily distracted by the sight before me, and part of me wants to turn into a caveman. I look down at the swells of her breasts as they lift and fall. My hands twitch against the door on either side of her head. They're so close to where I want them.

I want to grab the shirt and straps of her bra in each hand, yank them down her arms, and use them to pin her arms at her sides, freeing her luscious tits from their confinement. Use my hands to massage them and lift them to my mouth,

It wouldn’t be gentle. It would be wild and fierce from the get-go. I’d suck her nipples hard, making her pant and moan before biting them and quickly sucking them hard again so she mewls with need. Her hips would push against me, desperate for my touch.

I pull myself out of my fantasies and back to the reality of having just seen another man’s hands on her. “What are you doing, Jayme? You let that douchebag put his hands on you. Are you trying to drive me insane?” I growl.

Her only response is a slow smile that graces her face. She’s smirking at me! It’s like she's enjoying this, that it’s all a game. Toying with me and seeing how far she can push me till I snap. She has no idea how close to the edge I am.

“Answer me,” I say with anguish in my voice as my forehead touches hers.

My eyes close as I inhale her intoxicating scent. My heart is pounding hard, and my dick is even harder. It’s raging to be let out and to claim her. Both organs are under her spell, desperate for me to get closer and take one little taste, begging me with every single pulse. 

She takes in a small breath. “Be careful, Conny. Your jealousy is showing!”

Her words come out with her usual dose of sass, but when my eyes open, they meet hers and find heat and desire written there. They're begging me to give us both a small taste of our forbidden fruit.

I can’t stop myself. All thoughts of right and wrong leave my mind as my lips descend on hers. We meld together, all lips and tongues and teeth. We lick, suck, and nip. Our lips never leave each other. Air becomes a secondary need that's brought in and shared between us with each gasp and moan.

She's intoxicating, scrambling my senses. She's like an early summer morning: the heat is there but only hinted at because you know there is so much more to come.

Her taste reminds me of field-ripened strawberries, sweet and juicy, with a flavor all its own. There’s nothing else like her taste. I instantly become addicted.

The overwhelming want within me is dizzying. It’s like I’m starving. My whole being hungers for her and only her. I can never get enough.

My hands leave their post against the door on either side of her and slide down to her head. Stroking her and burying my fingers in her hair, I tilt and move her head exactly where I want it. 

My fingers glide through her hair until they reach her shoulders. I graze across her sheer top, and the desire to enact my fantasies pulls at me. Instead, I keep going and glide down her sides. I stop just below her arms, framing either side of her breasts. My thumbs tingle with the desire to move in and circle her nipples.

 I can’t bring myself to cross that line, so I try to convey all the emotions inside me in that one kiss.

Her hands slide up my chest and circle my neck, weaving her fingers into my hair and lightly scratching her nails against my scalp. I’m not expecting her boldness when she pulls at the roots at the same time as she bites my lower lip before running the tip of her tongue across the spot, then sucking it into her mouth.

The little bit of pain mixed with pleasure is an aphrodisiac. It makes me groan roughly into her mouth and press my body flush against hers. Her soft curves yield and mold around my hard plains.

I slide her up the door, lining her up so she feels my erection as I grind against her core. Groaning with ecstasy, I roll my hips, giving us the friction we both need. Each time, it sends an electric shock to my system. I snake my hands around her lower back, needing her to feel my hands there, overwriting any memory she might have of another touching her. I need to claim back that skin, make it only remember me and my touch.

I capture her moans with my mouth, wanting to claim every bit of her pleasure. Each one is a plead for more, and every fiber of my being wants to give her exactly what she wants. 

That is, until a loud knock on the door interrupts us from going any further. 

Out of breath and reeling, I push away from her and yell at whoever is on the other side of the door. “Hold on a minute.”

She smooths her hair down and checks her reflection. Our eyes meet in the mirror for a split second. Her kiss-swollen lips and bright sparkling eyes make her the picture of beauty itself. 

A sly grin appears as she looks back at me. It’s as if she knew all along that this would happen. With one hand on the door, she winks. “I have to admit, none of the fantasies I’ve had about you can compare with the real thing.”

Cata Ree is a woman with an adventurous, bold spirit and love of life and laughter. A self-described “nerdy-jock”, She once grabbed the shoulders of a Flames hockey jersey-wearing stranger in a bar and yelled “I swear this team can’t score for the life of them!” She must have made a big impression because he found her later and asked to buy her a beer. Now, many years later, that stranger turned husband and her have three kiddos and are still going strong.

Having left her home in Turkey at 17, Cata first made her way to the United States to finish high school, thanks to a scholarship, then went north to Canada for university. Settling in the small town of Cochrane, on the outskirts of Calgary, Alberta, she still enjoys her sports —both playing and watching. After all, those bat-swinging, hockey stick-wielding, ball-throwing hotties provide lots of inspiration for the heroes in her stories.

Having once been a book blogger for years, getting to know lots of other bloggers and authors along the way, plus her love of the romance genre, inspired her to make the leap into writing her own books.

Cata Ree has previously published under the name E. K. Woodcock, but is now in the process of revamping those books and publishing them under the Cata Ree name.
To contact her please email: catareeauthor@gmail.com


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