Page 7 of Slapshot Baby

Her hands fly up, her fingers tangling into the front of my suit jacket, pulling me down as she kisses me back with a sudden, fierce hunger that matches my own. There’s nothing polite about it. Good.

I shift my weight, my other hand sweeping around her waist to hook under her hips, pulling her roughly against me. The moment her pelvis flushes against mine, a thick surge of heat hits me, my cock hardening instantly against the front of my trousers. The feel of her softness pressed against my length is pure torture, making my head swim as I grind into her through the layers of dark silk and tailored wool, proving to both of us just how far past polite conversation I am.

Every bit of quiet, simmering tension from the bar snaps completely. I deepen the kiss, sliding my tongue past her lips to taste her completely, my grip tightening on her hip until she lets out a needy, breathless groan right into my mouth that sends blood rushing straight to my dick.

When I finally break the kiss, my pulse is hammering in my throat and my trousers feel agonizingly tight. I rest my forehead against hers, taking a heavy, steadying breath of her scent while my body practically demands that I pin her against the terrace wall and take her right here.

"Still coming home with me?" I ask, my voice rough.

Her fingers tighten on my lapels, her dark eyes glittering in the dim outdoor lighting. "Was that kiss supposed to change my mind?"

I grin, my lips brushing hers once more. "No. Just checking."

The valet chooses that exact second to pull my car up to the curb, the engine idling loudly in the quiet driveway. I take one last long look at her flushed face before letting her go so she can grab her own keys.

Twenty minutes later, we're in the elevator of my building.

We don't talk on the ride up. We don't need to.

The silence between us is heavy, packed tight with everything we’re about to do. Every time another floor number lights up, my eyes find hers in the mirrored wall of the elevator.

Her chest rises and falls faster, her eyes dark and fixed on mine.

She wants this as much as I do.

The realization sends a jolt straight to my cock.

When the elevator chimes and the doors slide open on my floor, I take her by the wrist and pull her out, my pulse hammering harder than it has all night.

3

AVA

Eyes Open

His penthouse is exactly what I expect: floor-to-ceiling windows and minimal furniture, pale tones broken up by darker, masculine accents.

There's no art on the walls except one black-and-white photo of the team mid-celebration, sticks raised.

The only personal thing in the entire place.

Everything is the expected quality. Nothing is excessive.

But despite how simple everything looks, the liIving room is screaming money. I force myself not to calculate how much everything costs. I do the math on the throw pillows anyway, hating myself a little for it.

Taking a deep breath, I wring my hands together, eyes looking away.

He closes the distance between us. His hand finds my chin, tilts my face up.

“Are you nervous?”

I chuckle. There’s no good answer to that. Saying no would be a lie. And saying yes can change the way things go down tonight.

"Last chance to change your mind," he says.

"I don't want to change my mind."

“Right answer.”