Dirty Talker (Slayers Hockey #4) - Mira Lyn Kelly Page 0,38

me, leaving me awash in the clean masculine scent of the man who spent the majority of last night making me moan.

God, he smells so good. I want to bury my face in his chest, strip off his shirt and—

His arms tighten, pulling me that much closer.

It’s so good.

It’s too good, setting off a slow churn deep in my center. The awareness I’ve been dismissing all day runs hot like an electric charge beneath my skin, shorting out everything beyond hurry, faster, please.

He’s still talking. “… don’t see my brother enough, and to be able to sit and hear about his plans. Get a glimpse of the life ahead of him. It means a lot to me.”

Right. I take a shallow breath.

He loosens and pulls back. “You okay?”

Dodging the eye contact, I force a laugh. Wave a hand. “Totally. Yes. Fine.”

His eyes narrow and I can feel him studying me.

I will not make this weird.

Which means I won’t think about the bed being less than ten feet away or how our bodies are making more contact than not. Gah.

That stitch between his eyes smooths and he steps back.

Never have I been so grateful for a single foot of space.

I take a deep breath. Let it out, still reeling from my reaction to being this close to the scene of the crime. I didn’t expect it to affect me this way.

“Well, I’m glad it was a good day.” I’m glad it was normal and not weird, and that Wade seems as comfortable putting our one night behind us as I am.

“Considering how it started, I’m going with this being a great day.” Wade reaches over his shoulder and grabs a fistful of his shirt, yanking it overhead.

I think I make a noise that’s not totally unaffected, but thankfully, he doesn’t notice. He wads the shirt into a ball and tosses it into the other room. “I’d even go so far as to say it was a phenomenal day if it ended the way it began.”

“Wha—”

He cuts me off with a quick kiss at my temple and another too-potent hit of concentrated sexy. “But I respect that you aren’t interested. So we’re sticking with a solid great.”

This time I don’t even know what I say.

“I’m going to grab a quick shower.” Unbuckling his belt, he heads back.

Which is normal too, I think.

Then stopping at the door, he turns and props his forearm against the frame in a pose so potently masculine I lose my breath. How can anyone be that hot? Absently, he rubs his free hand over the packed muscles of his chest and down the hills and valleys of his abdomen before hooking his thumb in the already dangerously low waist of his shorts.

I open my mouth.

Hear the click of my throat.

Close it.

“Tomorrow, we’re going to Janie’s parents’ in the afternoon. You’ll like it. Nice place on Big Lake. We used to swim there when we were kids… I think Walt’s got a few more guys coming into town…”

I nod, not quite sure what he said. Stare as he pushes off the doorframe, the movement highlighting the flex and give of too many muscles at once.

He turns on the shower, sticking his hand under the spray before grabbing a towel from the rack.

It’s not weird that he hasn’t closed the door yet.

“…but if it’s too long of a day, I can pick you up later.” He swings the door closed about three-quarters of the way, leaving a gap that gives me a sliver view of the sink and mirror.

I mean, we’ve seen all there is to see. Maybe this is normal now?

I hear the clank and thud of his shorts hitting the floor and then the metallic slide of curtain rings across the rod and back. My skin erupts in goose bumps as images of Wade, soapy and wet, bombard my brain.

“What do you think?” he calls from beneath the spray.

“I—uhh—umm—” I give up.

“Hey, Good Girl, you still out there?”

Good Girl. I’ll never hear those words again without thinking of all the ways Wade and I were bad.

“Harlow?”

My head snaps up, eyes shooting to that gap from the open door and the mirror beyond. To the blue eyes watching me through the reflection.

“Fine. Yes,” I answer hoarsely, no idea what I’ve agreed to. Not caring.

His smile spreads and then he tips his head back beneath the spray to rinse while I try to find enough air in the room to breathe.

A few minutes later, he’s out of the bathroom, holding