Dirty Talker (Slayers Hockey #4) - Mira Lyn Kelly Page 0,31

time to do it.”

I shouldn’t. I know better. But— “You want to pull the pin on this grenade?”

She nods, one brow arched. “Think you can handle it?”

This girl.

Holding her steady with the arm at her back, I slide my free hand around her neck and take the kiss she’s offering with the barest brush of my mouth over hers. A slow pull and draw against lips that give and part, welcoming that one taste I know I shouldn’t have.

Fuck, she’s sweet.

Sweet and warm and pressing closer, opening wider, linking her arms tighter.

I don’t want to think about the fact that Harlow likes to win. That she gets off on blowing the bell curve. Or that she has an almost compulsive need to follow through on her goals.

All I want is the taste of her mouth, the catch of her breath, and that silky moan begging me to sink deeper, to take more. To haul her against my body and—

Fuck!

Dragging myself back, I shake my head. “Harlow.”

My heart’s pounding, my body fighting my mind.

Our eyes lock. It’s only for a second, but Christ, it’s enough. I want to pull her back into my arms. Find a dark corner and tell her I don’t give a fuck about Kelsey. The only thing that matters is her.

Instead, “We have to stop.”

“Really? Kissing you is pretty fun.” She’s breathless. Those midnight eyes trailing after my mouth. “Maybe we shouldn’t stop just yet.”

I groan, liking the sound of that way too much. “It’s better than fun. But if I kiss you again”—I run my hand over the length of her hair, barely resisting the urge to bury my fingers in it—“it won’t be about Kelsey. It won’t be pretend or just for show.”

Harlow stills. “It won’t?”

“Hell, no, it won’t. I’m trying to be the good guy I promised you I was.” I shake my head. “The truth is, I want you. And if you want to keep things the way they are or be done with them altogether, then that’s what we’ll do. But if you want me to kiss you again—and make no mistake, I want to—then it’s going to be real.”

She wets her bottom lip, meeting my eyes. “You are a good guy. And I appreciate the respect you’ve been showing me.” Fingers trailing down my shirt, she leans in again, letting her lips brush the corner of my mouth. “But what if I don’t want to do the right thing or make the sensible choice? What if I know exactly what this is… and what it isn’t? And, just this once, I want to have some fun with you?”

“Just this once?”

She nods, taking an emboldened step into my space, so once again I have that mind-blowing press of her body against mine.

“Just tonight. No expectations. No consequences.”

Damn it. That’s what I thought she meant. And I can’t be surprised. I’m not her type and her life hasn’t changed… But then neither have I.

I’m still the guy in college who didn’t make sense. The off fit. The guy on the bench who talked his way into one shift in the game. Who knew what was at stake and wouldn’t stop until one shift became one period. One start. One score after another. One tryout. One trip up to the big show because one too many regular players were hurt.

I’m the guy who doesn’t fuck up when he gets a shot.

And that’s what this is.

“Wade, kiss me again.”

Bypassing the lips I want to sink into with everything I have, I bring my mouth to her ear.

“If tonight’s all I get”—and I’m going to make damn sure it won’t be—“no way am I sharing even one more minute with Kelsey or anyone else here. Time to go, Harlow.”

Chapter 12

Harlow

Wade takes my hand and the bar falls away.

Just this once.

The words run through my mind on repeat, shocking me more each time. I’m so out of my depth I can barely breathe. Can barely think of anything but the firm grasp of his hand around mine and the tiny electric charges tingling up my arm from it.

The cool night air teases my skin as we cross the lot, gravel shifting beneath our feet. Our eyes meet. Our pace quickens. By the time we reach the truck at the back, I’m shaking.

There’s a single weighted beat, so heavy it almost hurts, and then we collide in an urgent crush. The sounds of need and relief meeting on our tongues.

He pins me against the passenger door, kissing me