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The tips of my toes are close to his… oh… If I stretch my toes, will I feel him? He’s a tall guy, does that mean he’s big down there too? What if my foot slips and I touch him accidentally? A shiver of delight runs up my spine.
His gaze is on my face the entire time erotic thoughts are racing through my mind, watching my reactions. Terrified I’ll relax and splay my feet and stray into dangerous territory, I squeeze my thighs together.
“We got sidetracked earlier, but I didn’t forget you had something you wanted to talk about,” he says, pulling me back to reality. I can’t tell him what I’m really thinking about, but there is something I want to know.
My mouth is suddenly dry as a desert, and I lick my lips, hoping I don’t sound like one of Marge Simpson’s chain-smoking sisters when I open my mouth to speak. “Um… yeah.” I begin, tentative at first, but when I meet his gaze, his smile encourages me. “Your nickname with the Chicago Flames… Why did they call you Sweet Talker?”
Brax tips his head back and laughs, a flash of white enamel glimmering in the dim light. “You’ve done your research,” he says, fixing me with a sexy stare that heats my core. “My teammates on the Flames used to call me the puck whisperer.” There’s a smile in his voice, but there’s a rough edge to it too that makes my breath catch, and my limbs suddenly feel like melted butter.
“Puck whisperer?” I laugh, and he does too. “Is that a thing?”
“Depends how you look at it,” he says. “Part of being a defenseman is being able to control the pace of the game. Knowing how to slow things down.”
The candlelight flickers, making his eyes appear like hot coals, and I feel myself burn under his gaze. “On one hand, you could say I always had a hot temper and a foul mouth.”
His gritty, deep voice makes me shiver, and I press my thighs together. I lick my lips, quivering under the heat of his glare.
Warm water laps at my shoulders when he shifts position to sit beside me. His thigh presses up against mine, and he places his arm across the back of the hot tub.
“On the other hand, you could say…” he says, his voice trailing away, all husky and slow. I shiver with anticipation, loving the way he’s seducing me with small talk. “… I just knew what to say to make it come to me.”
He exhales slowly and dips closer. Brax is vibrating with tension and his breathing is labored. This thing that is happening between us means something to him.
It matters.
His warm breath fans over my skin and I close my eyes. I can sense his face barely an inch from my lips and I feel myself sinking into a heady kind of stupor. He’s delicious and I am unable to resist him. Unable to resist my feelings for him.
His lips touch mine, and my pulse thrums.
