Love In Moments (Love Distilled #2) - Scarlett Cole Page 0,41
the disruption to his game day routine put him off. He needed it to work for him. He’d suggested breakfast, but if he turned it into brunch and they worked out first, he’d be fit for training. Then, after practice at the training facility, he could come home and get a couple hours of sleep before heading back to suit up for the game.
Just as he finished in the bathroom, the doorbell rang. A ripple of excitement moved through him.
He jogged back down the stairs, opened the door, and was greeted by Olivia, her cheeks all flushed from the frigid air. Her hair was pulled back from her face, one hand tucked into the pockets of her long down coat, the other holding a sports bag.
Her eyes ran up and down his body, and then she bit her lip. “Good morning.”
Yeah, she was still just as fucking pretty. “Morning, kämpe.”
When she stepped up to him, he slid his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks, and kissed her—which was nowhere near close to what he wanted to do to her, yet still somehow managed to be everything. Her hazel eyes fluttered shut as she sighed.
With a gentle nudge, he pushed her into the hallway. “I’m going to need you to keep those lips away from me for the rest of the time you’re here, or else I’m not going to fit into my jock when I get to the rink.”
“Your rules, remember?” Olivia grinned as she placed her bag on the floor and unzipped her coat.
“Fuck, Liv. That’s seriously not going to help.”
As she slipped her arms out of the sleeves, he took in the navy blue sports bra and leggings that had a neon pink trim.
“You like it?” Being the helpful woman she was, she did a little twirl, a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree spin so he could check out every inch of her.
He laughed dryly. “I’m trying not to look too closely. Jock. Rink. Game later. Remember.”
“I have a meeting at work at nine and was hoping I could shower here before I leave, if that’s okay? Is two hours enough time for us to do what you have planned?”
Anders rubbed his hand over his chin. “Yeah, but you are also going to need to stop asking questions that could be answered with any number of innuendos.”
“Innuendos?” She tilted her head toward him, and he had visions of stepping forward and running a line of kisses up the side of her neck.
“Yeah, like two hours is nowhere near enough for what I have planned. Or when I have you in my bed again, it’s going to be for a lot longer than two hours. And yes, showering is fine, but I can’t think about you naked in my shower.”
Olivia grinned and, like sunshine, her smile lit up the hall. “Sorry. Well, sort of sorry.”
He took her hand. “Come on, let’s go work out.”
“Would it be easier on your . . . erm . . . jock, rink, game situation if we left this for another day?”
“Now I’ve seen you in workout gear, I’m going to be thinking about you in it anyway. Might as well see the real thing rather than imagine it. I’m just going to be mean with your workout so you end up in as much pain as I am right now.”
Forty-five minutes later, as he cycled to loosen up his legs, he didn’t think it was possible. Her back was pressed against the inclined weight bench, and every time she lowered the dumbbells, her chest would look so fucking perky, and it took everything he had to not go bury his face between her breasts.
Sweat gave her skin a soft sheen. Olivia’s fitness was fine given the inconsistency of her exercise and food habits over the last year, but he could hear her frustration in the way she talked about herself.
“I’m done,” she gasped, and flopped down on the mats he’d laid out on the floor for them.
Anders hopped off the bike and crawled over her. “Not quite,” he said, lowering himself in a push-up to kiss her, then returning to hold a plank.
“No,” she groaned. “What evil torture do you have planned next?”
He repeated the push-up, kissing her chastely again. “Stretching.”
He plank-walked onto his own mat, then lay down. “Those baby muscles of yours are going to ache tomorrow. We need them loose.”
Olivia tilted her head toward him. “You want my muscles nice and loose?”
“Liv,” he warned.
“Sorry.” Her laughter told him she was anything but.