Hooking - Kristine Allen Page 0,42

I took another scrumptious bite. It literally had me moaning.

“Fuck, Syd. Don’t do that,” he said in a pained voice with his fork halfway to his mouth.

I froze midchew. He swallowed hard, then placed his food in his mouth. The whole time, his eyes held mine.

Through a charged silence, we finished the meal. The dishes went in the dishwasher, and we christened his kitchen counter.

At least I hoped we were christening it, because the thought of him doing it with someone else made me ill. Not that I was naive enough to think there had never been women; I simply didn’t like to imagine it.

Later, after another hot soak in his opulent bathtub, we were snuggled up in bed. Victor was sleeping against my back, and I rested with my head on Alex’s chest and one leg thrown over his. I traced the tattoo on his upper chest.

“Did you decide if you’re going to use my tickets for tomorrow night’s game?” The question rumbled through his chest.

I lifted my head, resting my chin on his rock-hard pec as I looked him in the eye. “Actually, I think I will.” Though I tried not to smile, the corner of my mouth quirked, and his face lit up.

“Cool. I’ll make sure the tickets are at will-call. Or I can have them delivered to your office.” It wasn’t what he said but the expression on his face that told me he was happy with my decision.

“Will-call is fine. Saturday night I have to run the foundation table with Katie, though,” I admitted. “I’ll try to get a few peeks at the game if I’m able.”

“Thanks, babe.” He stretched to kiss the tip of my nose. Then he shut the light off.

Snuggling, I fell asleep thinking I could get used to nights like that.

“How Did You Love”—Shinedown

“This is only Coach Soderberg’s second season with the Amurs. The past few years have been a learning experience for Soderberg going from player to coach. Not to mention he’s one of the youngest coaches in the league after coaching in the AHL for only a couple of seasons. That’s gotta be tough. He probably played against a lot of these guys at one time or another.” The announcer was spouting mindless filler as we stepped off the ice after the first period.

It faded away as we moved further down the tunnel to the locker room. As the team pulled their gloves and helmets off, we dropped dejectedly to the bench. We were losing, and it didn’t sit well with any of us. At least we were only going into the second period one point down.

Except we never recovered. The entire game, we trailed by one.

“What the fuck was that out there?” Coach shouted in the locker room after the game. Sitting there sweaty, pissed, and bummed, we took the ass chewing. Thankfully, he chilled after his initial outburst. Coach was pretty fair and usually levelheaded. None of us really blamed him for shouting, because we all wondered the same damn thing.

Me: You wanna join us for a drink?

Sexy Sydney: I don’t think so. I have to work in the morning. Rain check?

Hating to admit that it kind of bummed me I wouldn’t see her, I walked over to the bar we usually went to after a game. It wasn’t a big fancy club; it was more of a hole in the wall that suited us fine. I shot her a text before I went inside.

Me: What about after Saturday’s game?

Sexy Sydney: I’m working the game. Don’t know what time we’ll get out of there. I’m sorry.

Me: Fine. We’ll reassess after Saturday’s game, but I’m calling the rain check Sunday morning. No excuses. Be ready to be up early

Sexy Sydney: Um K

We all nursed our woes with a beer, then went home with a new determination for Saturday’s game.

Thursday night’s loss had sucked donkey dicks. Friday’s practice was long and grueling.

By Friday night I was already feeling sexually frustrated. Which was crazy as hell, because I had gone half the summer without pussy and survived.

Deciding it was too easy for her to blow me off over text, I called her.

“Hey. Y’all practiced forever today,” she said in place of a hello.

I blew out a hard, ragged exhale. “Yeah, Coach was relentless. What do you say to a quiet night in with me?”

She immediately laughed. “Translation: Can we fuck?”

“Hey, don’t make it sound so crude. I’m not cheap and easy, you know,” I joked.

“Phbt! Okay, so you’re not cheap,”