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CHAPTER31
Sensations blossomed from her core and outwards, eager for more action. Calista froze. The tablet fell from her loose grip to the table, and the bar dropped away, reality ceasing to exist. Her whole universe narrowed and consisted of his cologne, his hand, and its potential for movement, and the promise of pleasure. She held her breath.
Ronan nudged the glass into her fingers. “Don’t you like it?”
Calista took a drink of the cold shake-tasting beverage. The sweetness on her tongue was yum and satisfying. In contrast, the warm proximity of his fingers had hardened her nipples into aching points of neglect. She wanted him to drop his drink so he could use two hands on her. One at the inner junction seam of her jeans, no, the button, the zipper, slip inside her new lace panties.
She shifted on the booth. He could slide his other hand under the hem of her jersey. Up, pinch her nipples, caress her breasts, say nice things to her, then use his mouth to follow the path of his hands. Her own palms ached to touch him. She could do for him what he was doing for her. She moved her palm to his thigh.
The workouts he did had given him the most wondrous body. She wanted them to move to obtain some privacy, in a room with better lighting. She dropped her head back against the booth and met his gaze helplessly. Her lips parted.
“Damn,” Ronan murmured.
“Hey guys.” Kiernan popped in front of them. He leaned his back against the edge of their table, his phone in one hand, his beer in the other, and his gaze on the costume contest.
Ronan dropped his hand from Calista, and he chugged some of his beer.
The host called out number twenty-three, and a woman in a fire costume climbed the few steps to the small, raised stage. Customers cheered and clapped.
Kiernan raised his beer bottle in tribute, before turning to Calista. “I’ve never been turned on by arts and crafts before, but daaammmn.” He pivoted back to the stage where the fire-themed costume wearer was flapping her flames. Kiernan waved his cell phone. “You’ve got my vote number twenty-three, you melt me.”
The host waved for the next woman to take the spotlight.
Kiernan whistled. “Check out the snowflakes on number twenty-four.” He typed in the app. “She’s got my vote too.”
The snowflake costume in question had strategic sequins, which would stay on during a routine. A contender, for sure, but high maintenance.
“Who are you voting for?” Kiernan asked Calista.
Calista opened her palms.
Kiernan winked. “I’ll vote enough for both of us.” He turned back to face the stage.
“Do you care about the dancers’ costumes?” Ronan asked, a note of curiosity in his voice.
“Of course.” Dahlia cared, and the dancers deserved something wonderful. Hockey fans should get the whole entertainment package as long as everyone was happy with the parameters, a certain level of modesty, another layer of fun, and above all fabrics which were structurally sound. “I didn’t at first, but then I tried one on, and that changed my perspective.”
Ronan gave a cut off groan. “I remember that.” He put his lips to her ear. “I want you to come home with me and try one on tonight.”
And men thought women were contradictory? Weird. She was game though. Calista wiggled. “You’d have to do something for me too.”
The host continued the rotation of contenders. Kiernan shouted his enthusiasm.
“Anything.” Ronan’s voice came out resolute, and as soon as his own unshakable word left his mouth, his face blanked, and he shifted to the edge of the booth. His blue gaze looked alarmed. “I have to join the guys.” He slid out, rose with his perfect balance, and touched Kiernan’s shoulder. He pointed to the stage, and the men strode away.
What just happened?
Humans were inexplicable and intriguing. Machines were also fascinating, but she could figure mechanics out, not Ronan. She dropped her gaze to her tablet. Polymer sheeting. Ronan. Polymer sheeting. Ronan. Dang…the material didn’t hold her focus the same way now that he had sparked her hormones to life. Why had Ronan left?
Did a player need him? Someone need a ride? Nope. They had the ride app on the purity website. Ronan hadn’t signed a purity pledge, had he? Like her?She knew who would know. She searched the room for Dahlia. Her gaze jumped over Willow, who wore the strappy black puck costume and a pouty expression. There, just beyond, were a group of dancers wearing their own individual costumes. Aww, Dahlia looked pretty. She wore a skin-colored mesh overlayed with swirls of white silk and icy crystals. The tiniest of fairy lights lit the short hem and the center snowflakes. Her high-end design hit the right notes she was trying to achieve.
As if feeling her gaze, Dahlia smiled her way and waved. She wound up her conversation and headed over. When she reached Calista’s booth, Dahlia leaned in and hugged her. The familiarity of her floral perfume contrasted with her exotic makeup. She’d used crystals to highlight her eyes and a shimmering blush atop her cheekbones, perfect for a winter princess.
“I’m voting for your costume.” Calista grabbed her phone and made her first vote of the night. “The mesh will hold in place through their routines, your makeup is super pretty, and you know I love the twinkles.”
“Thanks. When we dim the stadium, imagine the drama.” Dahlia beamed and adjusted the number three on her placard. “I’m getting top votes.” She rolled her eyes, and her mouth turned down. “So is Willow.” She pointed to Calista’s phone. “Hit refresh and check the summary ratings.”
Calista hit refresh and angled the screen so her cousin could also see the readout. The top four contenders were fire, puck, light up, and llama.
