One Shots | Hockey

* Jack Hughes | New Jersey Devils

Word Count | 1488

The days had gone by in a blur of work while Jack was gone, but you'd finally caught a flight to meet up with him for his next game. This being said, exhaustion had caught up with you and the second you got to the hotel room, you were out cold. You hadn't gotten much sleep while catching up with work and you never slept well without Jack.

The clock read seven o'clock the next morning when there was a knock on your door. You shot a glare through the wall at whoever it was, burying your head under your pillow. The knock came again and you groaned.

"Who is it?" you grumbled, loud enough so they could hear you.

"Let me in and you'll find out," an amused voice came back.

Your eyes shot open. You scrambled to get out of bed, not thinking to put pants on as you rushed to open the door. Your hair was thrown into a bun from the night before, and it was not pretty. You unlocked and opened the door, revealing the gorgeous man standing in your doorway. Jack quickly lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist while your arms found their way around his neck.

You were engulfed by his scent, hints of leather and cedarwood filling your nostrils as he held you close to him. You hid your head in his neck, not wanting to let go. You didn't want to lose how you felt in his arms. Eventually, and to your disappointment, he sat you down on the bed and stood in front of you.

"Look at you," he smiled, caressing your cheek with his hand and running his thumb over your skin.

You looked up at him, placing your hand over his and leaning into his touch.

"I missed that."

Your eyebrows scrunched, confusion taking over your features.

"The way you always lean into my touch. And the way you look at me with those damn eyes," he whispered, acknowledging your confusion.

"It was only a week," you teased, trying to stop your face from flushing a bright shade of red but failing miserably.

Jack leaned down, his hand moving to tilt your chin up as he pressed his lips against yours swiftly. You let out a soft noise as his teeth gently sunk into your bottom lip, but he pulled away.

"Fuck, I missed you."

"Did you?" you questioned sarcastically, smiling at him.

Jack sat down on the bed, pulling you onto him so that your legs were on either side of one of his. You grasped his shirt with a tight fist and let out a harsh breath as your core, covered by only the thin fabric of your panties, brushed against toned thigh. His lips were warm and soft when you connected your mouths again, trying not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. He lifted your hips with one hand, sliding the other one under you to apply even more pressure to your already sensitive clit with his thumb.

"Jack, oh my god," you gasped at the unexpected contact.

Your heart was racing and your breathing sped up as his other hand rested on your hip still. Wherever his hands touched on your body, there were shocks of electricity. Every. Damn. Time.

"I'm good with my hands. I play hockey for a living, I have to be," Jack reminded you, moving his thumb in slow circular motions.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and dragged your nails through the hair at the back of his head gently. Your foreheads were pressed against each other and our lips met once again, this time with a passion you've never felt before in your life. His lips moved perfectly with yours as he picked up the pace of his thumb.