Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
His eyes dance with mine as he blows his own breath on the cool surface, before drawing a heart and then pointing to me. I pull out my phone and take a photo as he grins at me. When he opens the door, he suggests, “Post that.”
I shake my head. “No, that’s for me and me only.”
The grin that takes over his face is so breathtaking. I take his stick since he’s trying to move his gloves into the crook of his arm, but the stick is in the way. He smiles a thanks before slamming the door shut. He puts his arm around my shoulder, kissing my temple, which is a feat with how much bigger than me he is. He’s a full foot and a half taller than me on skates, I’m sure. But I don’t care. I love looking up at him when he’s all sweaty and sexy. With a wink, he says, “I can send you some more photos of me, only for you.”
I snort. “I’m all set. If I want the goods, I’m sure you’d show me.”
He pauses mid-stride, and I look up at him, confused. “Listen, I need a little warning if you want that now. I gotta untie, unhook, and pull everything off to give you the goods, Cam.”
I try not to laugh, I try to be offended, but I can’t. I snort as I laugh loudly at his stricken look. “Stand down, Benson. I don’t need it now.”
He takes me back into his arms, and his heat is welcome. “Okay, good. I can take some while I shower. They can be in exchange for you telling me what the bet is,” he tries, and I laugh.
“Not happening.”
“But I’ve got really good photos,” he insists, but I’m already shaking my head. “I’ve got a great shot of me with my stick.” I smack him in the arm, and our laughter mingles as he holds me tighter. “What? I was talking about my hockey stick, you dirty girl, you!”
My stomach hurts from laughing as I stop in front of the tunnel that leads to the locker room. He takes his stick back, and then I grab hold of him by his chest guard under his jersey and pull him down to me. “Hurry up. I’m ready to be wined and dined.”
He kisses my nose. “And then sixty-nined?”
I press my lips together as the heat fills my cheeks. “Who’s dirty now?”
Benson presses his lips to the side of my mouth, and without moving, he whispers, “Ahbaby, all my thoughts of you have been nothing but the dirty kind.” He kisses me, and I lean in, wanting it so badly, I can’t even begin to understand my desires. And for a split second, I think I may be able to work that Miss Muffet dress. When he pulls back, way too quickly in my opinion, he kisses my nose. “I’ll be right out. Wait for me.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
As soon as the words leave my lips, I have to wonder if the promise in my words was only for right now—or for the long haul.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Cameron
I don’t think Benson liked that I took off his jersey once we got in his car.
He didn’t have to say a word for me to notice his disappointment. He wears it in his tense jaw and how his hand swallows mine. Almost as if he needs to touch me since I’m not wearing his number.
His behavior is a huge turn-on.
Slow your roll before you’re the Miss Muffet of the bride.
In my defense, though, it’s uncommonly warm in the middle of winter, and I started sweating as soon as we left the rink. But that’s Tennessee for you. One day, you’re freezing your titties off, and the next, you’ve got intense boob sweat. It’s crazy and reminds me a lot of myself. I never know how I want to feel either. I also think the weather here is another reason I want to leave. Maybe go somewhere that actually has real seasons, unlike this bipolar state.
I move my thumb along his as our hands rest in his lap. He sits casually, holding the wheel with one hand and his other firmly holding mine. He’s wearing a Bullies Hockey sweatshirt and some black athletic pants with his trusty teal Crocs. We actually match; I’m wearing my Bullies gymnastics hoodie with black leggings, but instead of Crocs, I have on my Bullies slides. I can’t get on the Croc train like he is. I think my feet are big enough without extra plastic.
I watch his profile, loving how he’s let his beard grow a little longer, giving him that devastatingly rugged look I enjoy so much. He has a Bullies cap on, hiding his wet hair, and I watch as he chews on his bottom lip. He looks almost nervous.