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Whatever it was, it was big. Important.
“Are you in trouble?” I asked, setting my hands on her hips. Her pussy was right over my dick. Only my boxers separated us, and I felt the heat of her. But if she was caught in a difficult situation, I needed to know.
“No!” she said. “It’s… embarrassing.”
I frowned and looked up at her. Studied her.
She tucked her tangled hair behind her ear. Wouldn’t look my way.
“Embarrassing? Sugar, does someone have something on you? Are you–”
“What? Why would you… oh. You’re famous and people spin things around. Has that happened to you?”
“Not me, but another player.”
“It’s nothing like that.”
“Then tell me.” I’d had enough. It was time to pull out the big threat. “Do you want me to spank it out of you?”
Her eyes flared. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would, even though I can tell that you would like it.”
She sighed. Heavily. Glanced around the room as if it was fascinating. “Ugh. Fine. Fine! I… I’m a romance author. Or I’m trying to be.”
I blinked. Processed. Grinned. “Yeah?”
Her eyes met mine, but warily. “Yeah.”
“You have anything published?”
She nodded. “I self-publish so it’s not through a big publisher or anything.”
“Holy shit, sugar, that’s awesome.” I jackknifed up so she was in my lap still, but I could kiss her.
“You think so?” She sounded so unsure.
“Why keep it a secret? I think it’s awesome.”
“Because I write steamy stuff.”
“How steamy?”
“Steamy.” She didn’t clarify and I used my imagination.
“People will think it’s word porn and I’ll be that pervy woman in Hunter Valley.”
“You are a pervy woman in Hunter Valley. My pervy woman.”
“In private. If people found out, it would be like you and the social media sites. People making their own opinions.”
“Like I said, I don’t care what other people think.”
“That’s because you don’t live in a small town where everyone knows your business. You’re a big-time hockey player with probably a PR company.”
“I do have a PR company, but sugar, I’m just a guy. I have feelings. If I let it get to me, I’d never be able to leave the house. But you… this is really cool.”
She rolled her eyes, but her blush gave away that she liked the praise. “I don’t want to be an accountant. Never have, but there wasn’t a chance to do anything else with Bridget and all. Imagine what her classmates or their mothers would say. So I waited until she was at college. It’s an afterhours thing. My thing.”
