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Kane nods, continuing his reps, and I walk toward the locker room with a smile on my face because Charlotte is fair game.
Coach
“Let me do that for you,” Alex says, walking into my home gym in a pair of shorts that hang low from his waist and no shirt, looking sexy as hell.
He pushes his fingers through his dark hair, making it messy, as if blown by the wind and fallen back into place. Even his imperfections are perfection. It’s hard not to be distracted by the way his hair brushes his forehead as he drops to his knees in front of me or the way his muscles flex as he takes my calf in his big, strong hands. His abs…my God, his abs are so yummy, I want to lean forward and lick them.
My heart, mind, and body are no longer in control, not when my ovaries are pounding hardest of all, ready to explode. With my back flat against the mat, Alex commands control and slips between my legs. Partner stretching is much more effective than doing it on your own, but this is going to be the hardest hour of my life with him shirtless and oozing sex, especially while he’s touching me.
“You okay, Coach?” Alex raises his eyebrows in concern, still holding on to my leg and pushing it into my chest as he locks his right ankle over my other leg to pin it down. “Were you working out before I came in? You’re all sweaty, and you’re breathing pretty fast.”
“Um…” Words fail me. “A little bit, I guess.”
The thirty seconds he holds my leg in the air feels like thirty minutes. I bite the inside of my cheek, blood coursing through my veins and pumping so fast that I feel like I’ve just run a marathon. I’m dying—or at least it feels like it. I won’t last another second with Alex pressing his thigh into mine.
He switches to my left leg and repeats the same stretch. This is pure fucking torture.
It’s been five days since Alex moved into my apartment, and for three of those nights, I woke up to find him in my bed, cradling me in his arms. My nightmares have returned after years of me trying to put Charlotte behind and start a new life as Coach. But Alex wants to know Charlotte, the girl I used to be and not the woman I am—or maybe he wants both sides of me. When he pulls me from my dreams, I’m terrified, afraid that I’m about to relive my past. I cling to him, let him in more than I’ve let anyone else in a long time, and it scares me that I’m starting to need him.
And, now, I want him. I crave his touch more than I should, more than I’ve ever desired another man. Because the Alex who comes to my rescue at night isn’t the same man I heard about from other agents and players. There’s a softness to him, unlike what I’ve seen from him on the ice or in the newspapers. The bad boy fades around me, replaced by a man who misses his father and needs someone to care about him, the same way I care for my clients and team.
What happens two days from now when he leaves for ten days on travel, and I’m stuck at the apartment, wondering if he’s keeping his promise? Can I trust him?
After he finishes up with my stretches, he plops down on the mat next to me, his hand lingering far too long as he uses me to support his weight.
Is he doing this on purpose?
“Your turn,” I announce. I climb over his thick, muscular thigh and begin the same exercise.
He’s rock solid, not an ounce of fat on him. Hockey players are by far the most well-conditioned athletes I’ve ever worked with, and the kind of stamina you need to play at such an intense pace…I can’t stop myself from licking my lips at the thought of what he must be like in bed. I dated my share of athletes in college, but I swore off professional players the day I started at DMG.
“You looked good last night, better than I’ve seen you play in a while,” I say, pressing my knee into the back of his thigh. “That shorthanded goal was pretty sweet.”
His eyes travel to my breasts that are slightly popping out of my spandex top before he makes his way to my face. “I’m surprised you watched the game. You know, I was hoping you’d come. Too bad you were stuck at work.”
“I was thinking I’d come to your last home game before your road trip.”
His face lights up, but he’s trying not to act too excited. He’s not fooling me.
“That’s cool, if you can make it. Do you want the same seats as last time, or would you prefer to sit with the wives?”
“Um…” He wants me to sit with the players’ wives? How weird. “It doesn’t matter to me.”
He places his hand on the mat and sits up into a crunch position, and I release his leg from my grip.
“You didn’t seem to like your seats last time—you know, because of those girls. They’ve been to every game since I got here. I think you’d be more comfortable around the guys’ wives and girlfriends instead of bunnies.”
“Won’t they get the wrong idea? I usually sit in a club box, so I can stuff my face and get hammered, not gab about where I got my nails done.”
That comment earns a laugh from Alex. “You’re definitely not like most girls, but trust me when I say, that’s a good thing. It’s what makes you interesting. I’m sure they will love you.”
He reaches out and grabs my hips, pulling me toward him, as he lies back on the map, holding me above him, as if I weigh nothing.
“What the hell are you doing, Parker?”
He smirks. “Weight training.”
I swat at his hand and end up smacking his shoulder, but that doesn’t break his stride as he counts out his reps aloud with a shit-eating grin on his face.
