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“Oh,” she says, looking at the team surrounding me. “Sorry, I should have knocked.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her, trying not to stare at the way her skirt curves over her hips. The same hips I held on to yesterday as I made her scream with my tongue. “Everybody’s just leaving.”
Goran gives her the biggest smile and she smiles back. A little jolt of jealousy rushes through me.
“We’re heading out for a drink,” he tells her. “Carter has something to celebrate. Why don’t you join us?”
Her gaze flickers to mine. She’s still smiling but this time it feels like it’s all for me.
“Actually, I’m here for Eli,” she says. “We have a meeting.”
“To talk about the exhibition game?” Goran asks. “Want me to stay and help.”
“It’s fine,” I say, my eyes not leaving hers. “You have a good time. We’ve got this.”
They take five more minutes to leave. I swear they do it on purpose because every second that passes makes my blood heat just a little more. Finally they troop out, Goran at the rear, and he looks back one more time before leaving.
When the door finally closes I let out a low breath.
“Sorry. They were supposed to leave an hour ago.”
“What’s Carter celebrating?” she asks. Damn she looks gorgeous in her white blouse and gray pin striped skirt. I picture myself unfastening the buttons one by one and immediately get hard.
“It doesn’t matter.” My voice is husky. “Come here.”
She looks over her shoulder. I get it; I do. She’s scared somebody might walk in on us. And yes, part of me is pissed about that because I don’t give a damn who knows. But I’m more pissed because it wouldn’t be me who’d suffer, it’d be her.
I’d get the high fives. She’d get the knowing looks and the people gossiping behind her back. The world shouldn’t be like that.
She steps into my arms and every muscle in my body relaxes. She’s warm and soft and she smells so good.
“Hey,” I say, kissing the tip of her nose.
“Hey.” She lifts her face up and I take the hint, pressing my mouth against hers. She opens her lips, her breath soft against mine, and I groan because maybe some parts of me aren’t so relaxed.
They’re very much standing to attention.
“Did you bring me here for locker room sex?” she asks breathlessly.
“Nope.”
Her eyes narrow. “Have you ever had locker room sex?”
“Nope.”
This time her expression is disbelieving. “I thought that was a rite of passage.”
“You been reading hockey romances or something?” I ask her.
She smirks. “No.”
“So why are you smiling?” Not that I’m complaining. Her smile is one of the best things about her. Along with other things.
“My friend said something about watching hockey porn.”
I frown. “Hockey porn? Is that a thing?”
“Apparently.” She wrinkles her nose.
