The Sweet Talker (Boston Hawks Hockey #1) - Gina Azzi Page 0,31
offers a non-answer that intrigues me as much as it irritates me. Do other guys see her like this? No, she told me she doesn’t do casual. Still…the thought of her with another guy bothers me even though it shouldn’t. Even though I don’t want it to.
But I let that flicker of annoyance take hold as I crawl up Indy’s body and fuse my mouth with hers. I let my irritation of thinking about her with other men fuel my actions as I claim her in the middle of a Sunday afternoon in the center of my bed until we’re both breathless. Until our bodies hum with adrenaline and quake with need.
Until I slide inside of her and swear. She moans loudly, her fingernails digging into my forearms as I bring her to the peak of a mountain and jump off the damn cliff after her.
As we come down from our mutual bliss, I stare into Indiana’s eyes and almost fucking drown.
Not that I’d tell her that. Not that I’d even admit it to myself.
And that, is my first major mistake where Indiana Merrick is concerned.
13
Indy
“Are you like, his sex slave?” Claire whispers way too loudly for Sunday night’s family dinner.
I kick her under the table and she winces.
Two seats over, Austin turns toward us and we both drop our heads.
“Sorry,” Claire whispers again. “I’m just so curious. And desperate for information because I haven’t gotten laid in way too long.”
“Claire,” I hiss.
She shrugs unapologetically. “After the way he stared at you at Taps after the Hawks won their season opener, you can’t blame me for asking. All the WAGs are wondering about you two, you know.”
“Seriously?” I wrinkle my nose, hating the thought that Noah and I and our mutual, non-committed, fun fling is feeding gossip fodder.
“You can hardly blame them, Indy.” Claire turns toward me. “One, Scotch didn’t let you out of his sight the entire evening. Two, he hasn’t been that way with anyone since Courtney.”
“This is nothing like him and Courtney,” I say, wanting to clarify that Noah and I aren’t serious. At all.
“Duh.” My cousin snorts. “You’re a million times better than Courtney.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I point out but Claire shrugs.
“What are you girls giggling about?” Uncle Joe asks from the head of the table. Claire quickly scoops half a chicken thigh into her mouth so all eyes turn toward me.
I kick Claire again under the table and she coughs around her full mouth.
“Nothing,” I say to the skeptical looks of our parents and Austin. “Just that Claire is on the job and apartment hunt.”
“Really, love?” Aunt Mary asks, her eyes zeroing in on her daughter. “You know there’s no rush, right? You can stay here as long as you like.”
This time, the toe of Claire’s boot finds my shin and I wince at the weight she put behind it.
“Thanks, Mom,” Claire says lightly. “Indy and I were just discussing options, that’s all. Rielle might have a friend looking for a roommate too.”
“How is Rielle? She hasn’t been here in ages,” Aunt Mary remarks.
Claire huffs. “I know. She works all the time. Indy and I are going to grab coffee with her and catch up this week.”
“Well, you know we’d miss having you here if this thing with Rielle’s friend works out,” Uncle Joe adds, laying on another layer of guilt.
Austin snorts under his breath and I drop my head to keep from laughing out loud.
It’s no secret that Claire is desperate to move out of my aunt and uncle’s home. Mostly because they still treat her like a little kid and Claire has a big personality. The kind of personality that doesn’t want to be reined in by anyone, especially not her dad.
“I know.” She grins at her dad and shoots mine a pleading look for help.
Dad covers up his laughter by coughing into his hand, and changes the subject. “Looks like Mike is off to a great season.”
“Oh, he’s playing so much more now that he’s in New York,” Aunt Mary agrees, clasping her hands together. “I thought it was going to be such a tough transition but Vanny loves the city and the two of them are happy there. I really hope they have a baby soon.”
“Mary,” Uncle Joe cautions.
“What?” she asks him, gesturing to the table. “I’m just confiding in family.”
“Here we go,” Austin mutters. As the parents launch into a conversation about grandkids, Austin looks at Claire and me. “You girls are staying out of trouble?”