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"When you stop chasing me."
Frustration bleeds into his expression, turning him stony and glacial. No one does cold like Kris. He's downright arctic when he's mad. "You want me too, Kelsey. I know you do."
I'm miserable without you. So damn miserable.
"You're awfully full of yourself, aren't you?" I say instead, arching a brow as if he isn't sending every one of my senses into overdrive. "I've told you a thousand times, I don't sleep with hockey players."
"You know damn well that isn't what this is," he growls, leaning closer. The gold flecks in his blue eyes threaten to drown me. "Tell me you know that much."
I do know it. We've been dancing around each other for far too long for this to be about sex. He's in love with me. But I can't let him take the plunge when he doesn't know what he's signing up for. And once he knows the truth? Well, I know Kris. He'd sign up anyway, throw his entire career away to be with me because that's the kind of guy he is. I won't let him do that. Not for me.
"I know nothing," I lie, squirming to get free. "And even if I did, it doesn't matter because I'm not interested, Kris. I feel nothing." I regret the lie as soon as I voice it. He inhales a sharp breath, but I've already gone too far to take it back, so I forge ahead, hating myself for hurting him. "So, please gobully someone else unless you want to help Jonas scrub toilets tomorrow. I have things to do, and this isn't one of them."
He narrows those crystalline eyes on me. His jaw clenches. For a minute, I think he's going to say something else, call me out on my bullshit, but he doesn't. Instead, he yanks me into his arms. His lips come down on mine as his hand delves into my hair. His scruffy beard feels like heaven against my skin.
I gasp, and that's all the invitation he needs. His tongue touches mine, and he steals his way right into my heart, sweeping away every piece of it. Somehow, my arms end up around his neck. I end up wrapped around him, kissing him back as if I can't stop myself.
Who am I kidding?I can't stop myself.
How long have I wanted this? Dreamed about it? Cried for it? Too long.
Every part of me belongs to Kristján Jónsson. It has for two endless years.
"Tell me you don't feel it now, princess," he snarls against my lips.
I can't tell him that. I won't.
"Kris, please," I moan instead, shoving my hands into his hair, I pull the silky blond strands, trying to drag him closer to me. He grunts, sweeping a hand down my back to grip my ass. He pulls me into him, trying to grind me against his erection.
He looks good in his uniform, but I hate those pads are seriously inconvenient right now.
"Fuck, Kelsey." He attacks my throat, leaving little nibbling kisses everywhere he can reach. "You drive me crazy."
"That makes two of us."
"Good. At least you're in hell with me, princess. At least you're burning with me." He nips my skin before kissing a trail down my chest. "I'm going mad without you. How long are you going to keep torturing me?"
"I…I…" My head spins, his hands and mouth short-circuiting my system. Or maybe it's greed that does it. I don't know. But rationally, I know how I should answer. I should tell him that he and I will never happen and that he needs to move on. I don't say that, though. He's right here in my arms, and I don't want to be rational. I don't want to be fair. I just want him.
Can't I be selfish just this one time?
"I'm not saying no, am I?" I whisper.
His lips still against my collarbone. For a split second, I think he's going to shut this whole thing down. My entire freakingsoulcries out in denial. And then he growls a curse and grabs my hand, dragging me down the hall.
I don't even see where we're going before he pulls me into the first room we come across—a conference room. The door slams behind us.
I land with my back against it and Kris all over me.
"You want me, Kelsey?"
"Yes!" I cry, gripping his shoulders.
He smirks, a wicked, devilish smirk that has my insides turning to steam. "Oh, princess," he whispers, brushing his lips across mine in a soft kiss. "It's about fucking time." He starts lowering himself to the floor at my feet.
"Kris, wait." I grab his shoulder.
He lifts his blond head, his gaze meeting mine.
