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Passing the puck back to her, I say, “I think you’re full of it.”
“Full of it?” she asks, holding my gaze as I skate toward her. Sweat is dripping down her neck, down into the valley of her tits, and it’s very distracting, but I refuse to allow her to use her hotness to throw me off my game.
“Yeah, I think you’ve played a bit more than a little bit.”
Grinning, she bats her eyes, and I can’t help but grin back as she asks, “You do?” -
“Maybe we should start cooking?” Delanie asks, but both of us ignore her.
“I do, and you’re going down,” I say, lining up in front of her.
“Is that right?” she asks, her eyes challenging mine, and soon my body is so fucking hot, I feel like I’m dizzy. I love a girl who has confidence, but even more, a girl who has a competitive bone. She moves the puck back and forth, holding my gaze as I nod. I don’t know what she is thinking, but man, I’d pay to be in her brain.
Because I can’t figure out if she wants to fuck me or beat me.
Maybe even both.
Clearing my throat, I say, “Oh yeah.”
Her eyes darken and sharpen a bit before she asks, “Are you challenging me?”
“Yeah,” I say, moving my neck back and forth to pop it. I then say, “Jude, Jace, step off.”
“Huh?” Jace calls out.
“I’m about to kick this girl’s ass at some one-on-one,” I say, my eyes never leaving hers.
She laughs, moving the puck around in circles, trying to distract me, but I’m not some rookie. I know what she is doing, and she’s fucking going down.
And then I’m going to have sex with her.
“Are you serious?” Jude asks. “She’s getting lucky breaks; it’s not a big deal.”
“No, it is,” I say, looking at the top of her head. “She thinks she’s good and that we won’t play hard against her. Time to show her that I will.”
She laughs at that, shaking her head. “Oh, get over yourself.”
Locking gazes, we both glare at each other as silence fills the air.
“Maybe we should cook,” Delanie suggests.
“Yeah, I’m hungry,” her sister says.
Looking at me, her eyes are sparkling as she says, “Yeah, maybe we should eat.”
“No, me and you have business to tend to.”
“You can’t beat me,” she says under her breath, looking down at the puck and then back at me.
“Oh, I can,” I challenge back.
“Are you sure?”
“Damn right, I can,” I say, squaring my shoulders.
She eyes me, a little sneaky smirk on her face. “Hmm. Sure.”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
