He chuckles, going over to a panel built into the gate’s wall to put in a code. It pings before slowly opening.
“Holy fu…” I’m speechless as the gates pull back to reveal the biggest pack house I’ve ever seen. Hell, it’s almost as big as the faculty buildings. “You live here?”
I thought Omega Village had the best houses on campus, but this place is colossal. A long drive leads up to an impressive slate-gray brick mansion with a fountain out front.
Adler laces his fingers through mine. “Want a tour?”
“Hell yeah, I do!”
Inside, the place is just as impressive as its exterior. Everywhere I look is marble from the floors to the walls, to where plaques are hanging and shelves are lined with trophies. In the center of the foyer, there’s an obnoxiously large bronze fox statue that looks like something you’d see in a museum.
“Hey, buddy.” I pat the fox on the head, peering at its face. “What’s your name?”
“I call him Fred.” Adler chuckles. “He came with the house. This entire place is funded by Foxes alumni, housing the team’s historical memorabilia. It also comes with the added perk of being accommodation for the team captain.”
Alongside the glittering trophies behind glass cabinets and a bashed-up puck from what I assume was a famous game, I inspect some of the photographs on the walls, checking out the brawny 1998 team. Now they were a team I’d show up at the rink to see.
He leads me into an open living area before taking me to the kitchen, which thankfully, looks less like a hockey museum.
The whole house smells amazing. As well as Adler’s scent, there is another woodsy scent that reminds me of forest walks, plus a richer, spicy overtone. Suddenly, I find myself disappointed that Adler’s packmates aren’t home. If they’re anything like him, I bet they’re hot as fuck.
Adler moseys over to one of the three oversized fridges. Opening the door, I see that it’s stuffed with rows of energy and protein drinks in every flavor you can think of. Clearly, these guys take working out seriously.
“You thirsty?”
“Water would be great.” I poke my head into the living room, spotting a monstrously sized television that takes up most of one wall. “You know, this place is pretty clean for a bunch of guys.”
“Go long!” He hurls me a bottle, which I easily catch with one hand. “Nice catch,” Adler murmurs admiringly. “And we have a housekeeper. Orin hates mess.”
Orin. The name sounds kinda familiar, but I can’t place where I heard it before. I’ve met lots of guys on campus and swiped through every profile on the Scent Valley Match app in the last week, so I probably saw him on there.
Curiosity gets the better of me. “Is the rest of your pack on the hockey team, too?”
“No. Luca used to play, until…” His shoulders hunch. “Well, he doesn’t anymore. From what I’ve seen, packs being on the same teams can go one of two ways: it can be the best thing ever or the worst. Personally, I like having the separation.”
“Uh-huh…” I watch him glug from his water before letting my eyes trail down the rest of him.
He catches me staring. “Checking me out again, firecracker?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep any compliments to myself.” I twist the cap back onto my bottle. “After seeing how those girls acted around you at the party, I don’t know if that head of yours will fit into your helmet if you get any more praise.”
“Well, I’d rather have a compliment from you than them.” My pulse spikes as he approaches. Now that we’re inside, his scent is even more intense, and my own perfume fills in the air. My scent-blocker spray must be wearing off.
“The jury’s still out,” I tease. “We’ll see if that pretty face performs as well off the ice as it does on.”
“I can finish the house tour…?”
“Why don’t you take me straight to your bedroom?” I get to the point. If he gave me a full tour of this mansion, it’d take forever, and I’m pretty sure I’d leave a trail of slick behind me like some weird, sex-craving snail. A girl has needs, and there’s only so long one can be around a hot topless guy without having them met.
“Are you always like this?” He puts his hands on my hips. Strong, steady hands. “So forward?”
“Only when I know what I want.” I tilt my head to the side, running a finger down his chest and smirking when I see the tent in his shorts. “And right now, you’re what I want.”
“You’re…” His words get caught in his throat as I glide my hand over his growing bulge. From what I can feel, he’s packing some serious punch down there.
His blue eyes darken, as if a storm is sweeping over him. Seeing this alpha turn into putty at my touch is profoundly satisfying. “You’re playing with fire.” His jaw clenches. “My packmates have a rule about no fucking in the kitchen.”
“Unless you’re a rule breaker and want a serious food hygiene risk on your hands,” I grip his balls lightly, “then you better take me upstairs.”
