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From the corner of my eye, my muscles uncoil when she takes a tentative step toward my truck, then another and another, until she’s standing in the open space between the truck and the door.
Looking up at my Ford F-150, she looks petrified. “I’ll need a ladder to get—” Her words turn into a squeal when I grab her waist and lift her onto the black leather passenger seat.
Her head whips to the side, and she stares at me as I stand in the open door. She looks angry and flustered, but I’m seriously turned on knowing that she’s as light as air and will weigh next to nothing when she’s sitting on my face.
Calm down, Ash.
“Did you just lift me into your truck as if I’m a child?” she shrills.
The fire she has within her makes me more attracted to her, and I break out into spontaneous laughter. I slam the door closed before she has time to change her mind and hop out. Jogging around the front of my truck, I pull the handle of the driver’s door open, then jump in to find her staring at me.
“So, you can laugh?” She folds her arms across her body in shock. Or maybe it’s anger. I can’t work it out.
Turning the keys in the ignition, I pull my seat belt over my shoulder and lock it into place. “You’re cute when you’re annoyed.” I side eye her, not knowing how she’ll react to my playful words.
“I am not annoyed. I am… just… you… you are so infuriating.” Her jaw is tight as she begins her rambled attack. “If you could just give me back my scarf, then I’ll be off. I can walk home. I know that’s the only reason you came back. I know someone like you would never date someone like me anyway. But I’m cool with that.”
She doesn’t sound cool, and she has no idea how much I like her or how wrong she is.
And still, she keeps on rambling. “Although, what I lack in the looks department, I make up for in book smartness, because I am smart. I went to Columbia University. I even had offers from Brown and Harvard, you know.”
What the fuck does she mean? Lack in looks? She’s incredibly beautiful. “And what I lack in height I make up for that in brain cells too, oh, and thick hair. I have good cheekbones.” She runs her fingers along them. “I am a fantastic swimmer. I can’t ice skate, though, so don’t ask me to do that, or it will be like watching Bambi on ice.” I think she just set me a challenge.
“I was jumping ahead of myself, thinking that you were remotely interested in a shortstop like me, but I’m not the proud owner of a thigh gap, so that rules me out. How do girls get that gap between their thighs anyway? Is it leg lifts or squats? Both?” She scrunches her face as if she’s trying to figure it out, but I have no idea what the fuck is happening right now.
Her voice squeaky and shrill, she keeps running her mouth. “Although Kourtney said that apparently, you don’t date, so I guess I’m safe, but how is that even possible? Have you seen you?” Confusion written all over her face, she shakes her head as if trying to process how true that is. “You look like your body is made from carved marble or something.”
Humored, I raise my eyebrows in surprise; she’s been checking me out.
“Is that what puck bunnies are into?” She waves her finger up and down my body. “I suppose I can see the appeal. I mean, you are nice to look at.” Then she scoffs, as if what her friend Kourtney said was impossible. “Don’t date, my ass. You must pick up girls like this all the time. I mean, why you thought I would be your next accomplishment, I have no idea.” She proceeds to drop her voice to mimic mine. “I’ll pick you up at nine. Get in the truck. I mean, who even says that? I don’t need to be picked up, or saved like some damsel in distress who can’t get herself home after work. Do girls drop their panties on demand for you when you go all bossy like that?” She points her finger at me, and I force myself not to laugh again for fear of setting her off on another tangent, because fuck me, she is funny as hell.
On a roll she keeps spewing words out, words I don’t think she means to say, but man do I love them. “And for the record, I would never drop my panties for you. No way, bucko.”
Bucko? Yeah, it’s official, she’s cute.
Unable to stop herself, she’s panting as if out of breath. “I am saving myself for the right guy. A guy who treats me right. Doesn’t lift me into his truck, hoping to get his wicked way with me. Uh-uh. I want someone who treats me like a lady and smiles without being forced to. Did you use up all of your smile and laughter quota for the month today? One smile, one laugh, done.” She slices the air with her hand.
Now that does make me smile again because she makes me want to. She’s different from other girls, not caring if she offends me, or concerned with who I am, or wanting to jump into bed with me just because I’m a hockey player.
Saving herself? Does she mean…?
Then she makes a surprising admission. “And I will not give my virginity away to someone as brutish, rude, and quite frankly downright cavemanish as you. You manhandled me into this truck with hands that have probably touched every puck bunny that throws themselves at you. I’ve only just learned what a puck bunny is today.” Repulsed by her findings, she sticks her tongue out and fake gags, then adds, “That’s disgusting. Do they have no shame? I bet you make them sign some sort of secrecy act contract thingy to stop them from telling everyone they slept with you, or does that give them bragging rights? Or do you pay them to keep quiet?” Her eyes blow wide in horror. “Oh, my God. That’s like prosti––”
“Fuck it,” I mumble and before she’s even finished her last word, I've turned my truck off, unclipped my seatbelt, leaned across the center console, grabbed her face with both hands and I’m crashing my lips to hers.
CHAPTER SIX
Ash
A soft squeak of protest bursts from her throat, her mouth tight at the unexpectedness of my actions. But within seconds, she relaxes, and when I push the seam of her lips open and invade her mouth with my tongue, she lets out a satisfied moan. A loud thud of something heavy sounds out and I can only assume she let go of her bag when she hooks her hand around the back of my neck, pulling us closer together. Tongues exploring one another, she tastes like chocolate and cinnamon.
Addictive.
I want more.
Threading my fingers in the hair at the base of her neck, I pull her hair band out, freeing her long blond locks, and I kiss her deeper.
With the need to hold her close, I place my hands under her armpits and lift her over the center console. Our mouths never lose contact as I position her on my lap, and she then straddles me.
