might’ve been a smidgeon of regret in the morning. An itty, bitty, tiny bit.
Now that I think about it, Kingston must’ve realized that, too, hence him being the perfect gentleman and kissing me good night on my front porch.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here.” I offer a smile before I move down to the other end to help a customer. I can feel Kingston’s eyes on me as I work. Even when Seg joins him at the bar, it’s as though he’s unable to look away. I won’t lie, that makes me feel good.
Probably a little too good.
I’m not sure how I got to my house but I’m fairly certain it is all thanks to the sexy goalie currently keeping me upright as he unlocks my front door and helps me inside. Most of what happened tonight is a blur, and I remind myself to offer him a sober thank you tomorrow for being thoughtful enough to bring me home.
“Thanks,” I say, chuckling, not sure what exactly I find amusing.
“For what? Letting you get blitzed with my team?” Kingston asks, his voice unusually deep tonight.
Perhaps it’s the tequila trickling through my veins that has something to do with that. I didn’t realize I’d indulged in so many shots until it was too late. I generally stick to a two-shot rule at night when I work, usually aiming for none. I wasn’t able to resist tonight.
And I have a feeling it’s Mount Rushmore’s fault.
All. His. Fault.
I honestly didn’t expect the night to take such an interesting turn. It started when a few more of Kingston’s teammates showed up, followed by a handful of puck bunnies. At that point, a strange possessive feeling took root in my chest. Something I’ve never felt before. In an effort to ignore it, I accepted the shot challenge that one of the players pulled out of his ass when he’d been blatantly flirting with me.
Shot challenges suck.
My wayward thoughts make me giggle, but then I briefly sober when I think about my daughter.
“I need to check on Bianca,” I mumble when I realize Kingston’s leading me down the hallway to my bedroom.
“I’ll check on her,” he says. “You just get ready for bed.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
When Kingston releases me, I stumble and would’ve fallen had he not wrapped his big arm around my waist and pulled me up against him. With his chest at my back, the deep rumble of his “Are you okay?” sounding in my ear, the effects of the alcohol dissipate, and I’m suddenly inundated with a jolt of lust so powerful I think I might melt right into the floor.
The room stops spinning, and the only thing I can focus on is the man pressed intimately against me. The hard plane of his chest against my back, the seductively rough scrape of his beard on my cheek as he leans close to my ear. That and the way I’m leaning into him, wishing his hand would slide a teeny bit higher so I can feel his palm on my breast.
“I’m gonna check on Bianca. I’ll be right back.” It takes a moment to process the words because the only thing I notice is the warmth of his breath against my neck.
“’Kay.”
With his help, I sit on the edge of the bed, watching his ass when he turns and walks out of the room and down the hall.
He has a killer ass.
Like, top ten best asses ever. Right up there with … I don’t know, but still. Top ten. Maybe top five. Yes, definitely top five.
And I want to bite it.
No. No, I don’t.
“Uggh.” I’m in so much trouble right now.
Three years is a long damn time to go without sex, and there is something about Kingston Rush that makes me want to do dirty things to him. Dirty, delicious things that involve him very naked.
Mmm. The goalie god naked. I wonder what he looks like.
In my defense, I’ve ignored my attraction to him for most of my adult life. It’s a hell of a lot easier during his serial dating episodes. But I know he’s been single for quite a few months, which is a new thing for him. Is there a reason for that? Did the last girl—the alcohol won’t allow me to think of her name—break his heart? Has he sworn off women for the time being? Forever, maybe? Is he now gay?
I giggle. Clearly my thoughts are getting away from me.
“Sharon? No. That’s not it,” I whisper, staring down at the