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“Excuse me,” Piper rolled her eyes at the bunny images. “Mixed company here.”
“Sorry, ma’am. I’m shutting it down.” Liam tapped on the keyboard.
Whatever key Liam was striking made the images zoom in. Perky breasts projected for all to see, up close, and bouncy. The image froze in a rosy and peach collage.
“Ugh.” Rookie bent double, clutching his rocket. “I need a minute.” His voice came out strangled. He hobbled through the connecting door that led into the locker room without taking his gaze from the live stream.
Piper, looking even more overheated, glared at the overhead lighting. “Are these bulbs made of lava rays?” She unclipped her belt.
Oh, she was going for the pants too. The waist dropped down. Piper shimmied, and the costume pooled around her skates. She wore fitted shorty-shorts underneath, and her bare legs came on display. Nice, daytime trou-drop. G-string last week had been better, more of everything. Mixed company here though, as she’d said. Mikah shifted in front of her.
He took a swig of the burning whiskey to slow down his racing pulse and watched. The glimpses of her skin were turning him on stronger than if she were straight up naked. Everything in him tightened. Mikah had the feeling that with her, he could hit a level of ready he’d never reached. That exhilarating thought was followed by a mental warning note. Nah, he could control himself. She could even shift those shorts down. He could help. Hook his index finger in the waist band, tug slowly.
The door to the tunnel flew open behind him, and a rush of cool air brushed his neck.
Mikah jerked his gaze up and the flask away. The whiskey dribbled out wet and damp onto his chin. He swiped at the splatter.
Dahlia had her arm out and a group of sorority women pranced inside, lady-like and pure. Not his type. That helped calm him down. The owner’s fiancée narrowed her eyes at the flask, like he was the problem. Didn’t she see what was going on behind him?
The overhead screen unfroze. Party beats thumped through the computer speakers. The projection of almost life-sized dancing boobs rocked with the music.
Dahlia gaped, had a good look, and jerked her gaze to Piper with one of those are-you-seeing-this girl looks.
Piper was in her tank top, shorts, and skates. Sexy and hot.
She flapped the hem of her skin-tight shirt revealing the curve of her feminine waistline. She groaned. “Please turn on the air.”
A masculine grunt sounded from behind the door that led into the locker room.
No.
Dahlia strode in that direction and flung the door open.
Rookie launched his rocket. “Ugh. Ahh.” He crumpled over himself, hiding his business from the onlookers.
Fucking rookie.
* * *
Piper’s cousin didn’t give her a chance to explain. Dahlia retreated toward the tunnel door. “Ladies, let’s take this to the hallway.”
Piper’s pants were around her ankles, so she wasn’t going anywhere. She weighed the odds as to whether or not she’d still get paid the three thousand in light of this epic fail. The heat had zapped her ability to think. Was this temperature set on sunburn to discourage reporters from lingering? Could this million-dollar organization really not get the HVAC fixed? A tank top and shorts were more than she wore at the beach, but she was still so warm. She wasn’t at the beach, and all the other ladies who’d come into this room had worn suitable clothes. Piper scooted her chair underneath the concealing tabletop and reached for the jersey. She caught the fabric in her hands but couldn’t make herself put another layer on.
Dahlia had left, but she returned minutes later with Coach in tow. Mikah’s eyes were defiant. Liam’s flashed around the room. Kiernan’s excited teal gaze went to the computer as if he could wish the bunnies back into motion.
Rookie returned and sank into a seat.
Had he washed his hands? Well, he seemed more relaxed, for sure. The players needed basic control tips and guidance as to what was acceptable in public and what was not.
Coach looked them over. “Why were you orgying it up before taking your purity vows?”
Liam shifted in his chair. “I was trying to call Mum.”
Was he? That wasn’t how Piper remembered his behavior.
Coach took a long look at the screen, which was silent again, but held the frozen image of coral-tipped breasts sprinkled with freckles. “That’s disgusting.” Coach said.
“Those tits aren’t Mom’s.” Liam face flushed maroon, and he sounded tortured.
