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My wife.
Mygirl.
The sight of her stirs every lust-filled memory I’ve tried to keep at bay and my mind clutters with all sorts of scandalous images of her.
The way she looked when I was buried deep inside her sweet pussy. The way she looked when I brought her to orgasm again and again. The way she looked naked and pressed up against my body as we lay on the beach under the stars that filled the Saint-Tropez sky.
What is Aurora doing here?
And with Luc?
He knows she’s not his to touch, and he definitely knows not to touch what’s mine.
The motherfucker runs his finger over her smooth thigh and holds her in place so he can start scribbling his name on her.
My temper flares like someone added a dose of napalm to my nerves, and I'm moving like a raging bull toward him before the next thought can process in my mind.
“Thank you so much. I’ve never had a professional hockey player sign his name on me before,” Aurora says, giggling, a sound only I should hear in that sassy, sexy tone.
“Anytime, Mrs. G,” Luc replies, looking at her like a gibbering fool, absorbing her beauty. How typical of him, thinking with his dick.
And Mrs. G?
Now that I’ve heard him say that, the fool can’t even use the excuse of not knowing who Aurora is. He couldn’t have tried it anyway because he was at my fucking wedding and watched her take her vows to me. But knowing Luc, he would try anything.
I see red as his wandering eyes drift over her ass when he starts writing his surname.
That’s all he gets to do—start. When I reach him, he notices me just in time to stand and register that it’s me coming for his ass.
I growl as I shove his chest so hard he goes flying back into the lockers behind him, making the ones that aren’t fixed to the wall crash to the ground.
The puck bunnies scatter like mice, and Luc glares at me as if I’m death emerging from the flames of Hell ready to scald the flesh off his body.
We’re both big guys with the same sort of muscle and height. Luc gets into fights all the time on the ice, so he’s used to it, but me… I only do it if I have to or if someone pisses me the fuck off. Like now.
At these times, there’s no reasoning with me, and it doesn’t matter who you are or how experienced you are at beating the shit out of someone. I will be your equal.
“Knight, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Luc shouts, shoving me back when he regains his footing.
“Are you serious?” My voice carries down the hall and probably into the heavens. “How fucking dare you sign your damn name on mywife?” I shove him again, harder, and it’s like we’re in high school again, fighting over shit, except we’re not. This isn’t high school anymore and I might have lost my mind since.
“Goddamn it, Knight, it’s just a fucking signature.”
“I don’t give a shit. You don’t touch my wife. She’s not one of your damn groupies. She’s mine.”
“Knight, stop it.” Aurora grabs my arm with dainty, warm hands and tries to pull me toward her.
I look down at her. When I take in the guilt mingling with the hint of surprise in her bright eyes, I realize why she’s here.
She’s not here for Luc or anybody else. She’s here for me. She would have seen me standing in the hallway with Jericho before she saw Luc, and she would have most definitely known him touching her dressed like that would have made me go batshit crazy.
Regardless, I’m still mad as hell for seeing another man—a man who isn’t me—touch her.
Luc doesn’t come for me again, and I hold off too, knowing my next hit will either cause serious damage to a lot of bones or maybe kill his ass.
“Be grateful we’re friends,” I seethe.
“Yes,friend. Thank God I know you’re fucking crazy.” He smirks. “Knight, it was just a signature, man.”
