Tripping (Iced #2) - Kristine Allen Page 0,77

nodded at the couple waiting to get on. The woman gave us the stink eye, but the guy smirked. I think if his wife hadn’t been with him, he might’ve given me a fist bump.

Down the hall, I unlocked the room and practically dragged her in behind me. The door shut, and I had her against it in a flash. She drove me to distraction. Everything about her, from the taste of whatever she had on her lips, to the light perfume that teased me, to her glossy red hair that refused to be tamed.

Hefting her up, I grinned into the kiss as her legs wrapped around my hips. I broke away with a playful growl as I nipped her earlobe, then her neck. “I wish you’d worn a dress.” I groaned. She looked sexy as fuck in the tight jeans, tall boots, and long forest-green sweater that made her eyes look incredible, but I’d rather have her out of it all.

“Let me down and I’ll get undressed,” she said against my lips.

“Excellent idea,” I agreed. We broke free of each other long enough to strip down, and I backed to the bed with her firmly ensconced in my arms.

With a laugh, we fell to the mattress, and I quickly rolled her over to lie between her spread legs. Holding the majority of my weight on my elbows, I stared down at her.

“I’m so glad you came,” I said as I took in each beautiful feature.

“Are you sure you won’t get in trouble for me being here?” she asked for at least the fourteenth time since I’d asked her to join me.

Prodding the end of my cock against where I really wanted to be, I gave her a mischievous grin. “Do you think I care right now?”

She pushed playfully on my chest, and I laughed at her pitiful attempt to move me. Instead of answering, I placed my face between her tits and inhaled her scent. Then I glanced up at her as I tongued her nipple. Forgetting her question, she clung to me as her head tipped back.

Ending with a kiss to one of my favorite freckles on the inside curve of her left boob, I chuckled. “Nah, I’m kidding. I got permission for you to be here. Coach told me as long as I wasn’t late to anything, meaning I better be there fifteen minutes prior, I’m good.”

I proceeded to show her exactly how good I could be—or bad.

Semantics.

“Slow”—Andy Grammer

It wasn’t Valentine’s Day, but it didn’t matter. We were together in St. Louis for his last game of the road trip, and we were going to celebrate late. As soon as they finished their practice, we were going to have a nice lunch, then take a nap before he had to return for the game.

Alex’s wife, Sydney, would be in town before the game tonight, and we would ride together from the hotel.

As I waited out in the lobby of the arena, I was wringing my hands. Things like that made me nervous. Self-conscious. Being alone in places that I didn’t know sent my anxiety into overdrive. I couldn’t say why. Maybe it was the worry that someone would tell me I didn’t belong there, or maybe I didn’t want to look awkward.

“Bleu?” I heard from behind me, and I froze. No way. Please God, no way. The footsteps neared, and I slowly turned. Holy shit on a shingle.

“Richard,” I said with a false smile, taking in his clothing and gear that resembled Cameron’s. “I didn’t know you played in the NHL.”

He preened, and I wanted to roll my eyes. “Hell, yeah. I’m the first line center for St. Louis.”

“Mmm, wow,” I said with a tight smile. I glanced around, hoping for Cameron to rescue me at the same time I prayed he didn’t see me talking to Richard. It would bring up questions I didn’t want to deal with.

His gaze slid over me in a way that made my skin crawl. “You’re looking really good, Bleu. How long are you in town?” He drew out the “really” in such a way that it was not a compliment.

Un-fucking-believable. I cannot. He is not hitting on me. “Are you serious?”

My composure slipped. I wasn’t sure if my eyes were popping out of my head or my jaw was dangling to the floor, but I was in shock. The man had balls the size of basketballs.

“Oh, come on, babe. You can’t still be holding a grudge. That was years ago.