Excerpt The Score by Elle Kennedy

Jul 062019
 

The Score (Off-Campus Book 3)
by Elle Kennedy
New York Times bestseller Elle Kennedy brings you a sexy new Off-Campus novel that can be read as a standalone…

He knows how to score, on and off the ice

Allie Hayes is in crisis mode. With graduation looming, she still doesn’t have the first clue about what she’s going to do after college. To make matters worse, she’s nursing a broken heart thanks to the end of her longtime relationship. Wild rebound sex is definitely not the solution to her problems, but gorgeous hockey star Dean Di Laurentis is impossible to resist. Just once, though, because even if her future is uncertain, it sure as heck won’t include the king of one-night stands.

It’ll take more than flashy moves to win her over

Dean always gets what he wants. Girls, grades, girls, recognition, girls…he’s a ladies man, all right, and he’s yet to meet a woman who’s immune to his charms. Until Allie. For one night, the feisty blonde rocked his entire world—and now she wants to be friends? Nope. It’s not over until he says it’s over. Dean is in full-on pursuit, but when life-rocking changes strike, he starts to wonder if maybe it’s time to stop focusing on scoring…and shoot for love.

Excerpt The Score by Elle Kennedy

Tequila is not my friend.
Or maybe tequila is my best friend—because it makes me feel very, very good. And
very, very happy. And…fine, it gets me very, very hot. As in I want to rip off my
clothes and jump the nearest available penis hot.
Unfortunately, the nearest available penis at the moment belongs to Dean Di
Laurentis.
Yup, it’s just me and Dean at the house tonight. Dean, the arrogant wise-ass who
thinks sport fucking should be an Olympic event. And me, the vulnerable tipsy chick
who’s grieving for a failed relationship.
Not a good combo, folks.
“One more shot?” the sport fucker in question drawls from the other side of the
couch.
I stare at the half-empty bottle he’s waving in the air. Oh boy. Did we already drink
half this bottle? I swear we’ve only been hanging out for ten minutes, twenty tops.
Damn it. I can’t believe I let Hannah convince me to hide out at her boyfriend
Garrett’s house for the weekend. Garrett’s roommate can’t be trusted. I knew that
going in, and yet I’m still here. Getting drunk with the guy.
Break-ups really fuck with your mind.
“Pass,” I answer, shoving a strand of hair out of my eyes.
“You’re no fun, Allie-Cat.” Dean tips the bottle and takes a deep swig without
bothering with a shot glass.
I don’t answer him, because I’m too busy watching his strong throat work as he
swallows. An amber-colored drop spills out of the bottle and lands on his broad,
golden chest, and now my gaze tracks that tiny bead of alcohol as it slides down one
heavy pec and stops right above his six-pack. Are all hockey players this deliciously
ripped, or is it just this particular one?
“You’re checking me out again,” he accuses with a grin.
“You’re imagining things,” I lie.
“Well, yeah. I’m imagining plenty of things. Like you naked. And me naked. And us
naked together.” He drags his tongue over his bottom lip. “Doesn’t change the fact
that you’re checking me out.”
The drop of tequila is still glistening on his skin. My tongue tingles. I want to lick it off
him. Would that be inappropriate?
Um, yeah! an internal voice shouts.
I purse my lips. Is it, though? What would be so wrong about bending over and licking
that one teeny little droplet?
My common sense instantly pipes up with half a dozen reasons why it would be
wrong.
Because it’s bad manners to lick someone without their permission.
Because you broke up with your boyfriend yesterday.
Because Dean Di Laurentis is a cocky manslut.
Because you don’t like him.
Because you don’t have casual sex.
Because you—
Yeah, I think I’m just going to lick him. All these becauses are giving me a headache.
With a decisive nod, I scoot closer and stick out my tongue and—
What the hell am I doing?!
Squeaking in dismay, I lunge back to my end of the couch, but it’s too late. Judging
by his self-satisfied smirk, Dean’s figured out that I’m thinking dirty thoughts.
“Were you just about to lick me?” he asks politely.
I grit my teeth. “No.”
“You totally were.” His lips twitch like crazy, and his muscular body starts vibrating as
if he’s struggling to keep in a wave of laughter. Then he composes himself and
flashes a broad smile. “Why don’t you just admit you want me?”
Usually the word “no” freely flies out of my mouth whenever Dean Di Laurentis is
hitting on me. Right now, it’s lodged in my throat like a piece of gum. The tequila is
buzzing in my blood, sending pulsing waves of heat and anticipation through my
veins.
Fine, maybe I do want him. A little. But it’s not really him—I’m on the rebound. After
four years of having sex with the same guy, my body is drawn to the new and
unfamiliar.
My body is the one who wants to know what Dean’s lips would feel like pressed
against mine. And what his skin would taste like if I ran my mouth all over it. And
whether or not the bulge in his pants would actually feel good inside me or if Dean’s
sex god reputation is all talk.
Stupid body.
“I’ll tell you what,” Dean says when I still haven’t answered. “You don’t have to say a
word. Blink once if you want to fool around. Twice for no.”
I gape at him as he intently studies my face.
“Okay, that was three blinks,” he muses. “I didn’t have anything for three.”
“I don’t want to fool around,” I finally croak.
“You sure about that?”
Before I can react, he’s next to me, one sculpted arm stretched across the top of the
couch, the other braced on the cushion between us.
“Babe. Do you really want to keep fighting this?”
His breath tickles my ear and sends a shiver up my spine. He’s too close. And he’s
too attractive. Why didn’t I just stay in the dorms tonight? I’m not allowed to lust after
Dean Di Laurentis!
Except I am. I’m lusting hard. My nipples are beaded with desire. My core is tight and
achy. And I swear if he so much as breathes on me again, I might spontaneously
orgasm.
But Dean does something worse than breathe.
He strips.
Yep, the infuriating, annoying, sexy as fuck man pulls off his gray sweatpants and
kicks them away, leaving him naked on the couch. Naked. With his dick right fucking
there.
“Oh my God! Put your pants back on!”
“Why?” He shrugs. “Pants are overrated. Besides, I need them off so I can do this—”
He wraps a strong fist around his very impressive erection, and I choke on my
tongue. I can’t believe he’s touching himself in front of me.
Keeping my gaze glued to my lap, I mutter, “Didn’t you already jerk off once tonight?”
“Yeah. So?” He chuckles. “I’m twenty-two, Allie-Cat. And I play hockey. Are you really
questioning my stamina?”
“I’m not questioning anything,” I sputter. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re such
a horndog all the time.”
“I’m chilling with a girl who’s fantasizing about licking me! How can I not get horny?”
Good point. But…this is Dean! I can’t be around a naked Dean.
“Come on, babe, are you seriously going to turn this down?”
I make the mistake of looking at him. He’s openly stroking himself now. I should be
grossed out. Or laugh at him for being so outrageously bold. Instead, I’m fascinated
by the way he slowly moves that fist up and down his shaft. The head of his cock
peeks out on every upstroke, and my lips begin to tingle again.
“Allie…”
“Dean.” I swallow through my dry throat. “We can’t hook up. It’s a terrible idea.”
“Probably,” he agrees. “I mean, the beating I’ll take from Garrett isn’t gonna be fun, I’ll
give you that. But…” He tilts his blond head to the side, his green eyes dancing
mischievously. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
That gets my attention. Fool around with Dean and keep the hook-up a secret?
That’s not the worst idea…right? I could get my tequila jollies off, without having
Hannah lecture me afterward about how I’m the biggest idiot on the planet for giving
in to Dean’s potent masculinity.
Nobody would ever have to know…
My gaze lowers to his crotch again. His dick is…appealing. My mouth is no longer
dry, but watering. That’s how badly I want to taste him.
“Do it,” he coaxes in a voice laced with pure sex. “I know you want to put your mouth
all over me.”
He’s right. I do. God help me, but I do.
The devil on my shoulder—or maybe it’s my aching pussy—nudges my hand in
Dean’s direction. I can’t help myself. I swat his hand away and take over for him,
wrapping my fingers around his shaft. Then I give him the slowest, most delicate
stroke.
He groans. “Tease.”
I’m not trying to tease him. I’m trying to talk myself out of this, damn it. But my
stubborn brain refuses to see reason. The only conscious thought in my head is fuck
him, fuck him now.
But I don’t do that. Instead, I suck him.
“Jesus!” he squawks, his fingers tangling in my hair. “Oh shit, that feels good.”
It really does. My lips are stretched around him, my tongue dragging over his hard
male flesh, and it’s the best feeling ever. I’m so turned on it’s not even funny.
“Fuck, Allie. Where’ve you been hiding that mouth?” His lust-drenched words heat
the air, and he’s thrusting deeper now, sliding his length almost to the back of my
throat.
When I lift my head and release him, he moans in disappointment, but his objections
die when I practically hurl myself onto his lap. I’m still wearing my leggings, but
they’re paper-thin, which means I can feel every inch of his bared cock rubbing
against my core.
Seductive green eyes peer up at me, only for a second, before Dean grabs the back
of my head and yanks me down for a kiss. It’s hot and greedy and glorious, the
sweep of his tongue bringing all my nerve endings to life. And I kiss him back with a
level of enthusiasm that startles me.
I don’t want to want this, but I do. I want him. On me. Over me. Inside me.
Dean shakes with laughter as I start tearing off my clothes. “Thought you didn’t want
me,” he taunts, clearly enjoying the manic striptease.
I jab a finger in the center of his chest. “One more smartass remark and I’m calling it
off.”
He snorts. “Bullshit. I think you might want it more than I do.” Then he glances down,
rueful, at the hard cock bobbing between us. “Or maybe not.”
I think we both want it equally, although my own desire continues to confuse me. I’m
not into casual hook-ups. I’m not into Dean Di Laurentis. Not usually anyway. But
right now, I’m so into this guy, I can’t think straight.
The moment I unclasp my bra, his big, callused hands are on my breasts. He cups,
squeezes, and I gasp. Then he rubs my nipples with his thumbs, and that tiny bit of
friction feels so incredible that I see stars. Good thing I’m straddling him or else I’d
keel over from pleasure.
It’s been so long since I’ve felt…lust. I don’t know if every long-term relationship
eventually settles into a bland sex routine, but mine sure had. I can’t remember the
last time my heart pounded this fast and my body ached this bad.
“Maybe we should go upstairs,” I murmur. It’s the only rational thought my mind has
been capable of formulating all night.
“Nah.” Dean leans in and closes his mouth around one rigid nipple. “Let’s stay down
here.”
I arch into his hot, hungry mouth. Each deep pull on my nipple sends a bolt of arousal
between my legs, until I’m shamelessly grinding against him. I still have my bikini
panties on. I want them off, damn it, but Dean’s lips and tongue are too distracting.
And the fact that I’m sitting on his lap, topless, while he licks and teases my nipples
keeps poking at the back of my mind.
“Upstairs,” I say again.
And once again he shoots that down. “Here,” he whispers against my breasts.
I slide my fingers through his short hair and tug his head up. “Why are you so allergic
to your bedroom?” I demand. Hannah told me that Dean rarely has sex up there, and
now I’m even more curious to know why.
“I’d rather fool around down here,” is the vague reply.
“Why?” I press.
I instantly regret asking, because Dean’s eyes go heavy-lidded and his voice lowers
to a sexy, molten rasp. “Because I like the idea of getting caught.”
My mouth falls open in amazement, but he’s not finished.
“And once I get caught…” The grin he gives me is downright filthy. “…I like being
watched.”
Then he kisses me again, and my surroundings fade away until all I can see, all I can
feel, is him.

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