Page 60 of Tempting Venom
“Even when you’re begging to be touched?” His hot breaths run smooth and heavy between us. “Your mouth can deflect all it wants, but your eyes…your eyes don’t lie.”
“Stop fucking talking.”
He shoves into me at that moment, slipping past me and scoring.
Then the asshole rotates to face me and grins, winking.
“You distracted me on purpose!” I yell, the huge arena echoing my voice.
“My oh my, you find me distracting? I’m honored.”
I lunge for the puck, but his stupidly massive frame blocks me, our sticks locked in a full-on power struggle.
He shoves—I shove back—but he uses the brute force of his body to bulldoze past me and score.
I slam my stick against the ice, the familiar static flooding up my spine, clawing into my senses until nausea rolls through me.
It’s that feeling again.
Losing control and having no…way out.
“Hey.” A stick hits mine on the ice as dark eyes bore into me, his head lowering slightly to reach my level. “Focus. Breathe. Eyes on me. Don’t let anything but me get your attention, got it?”
“Fuck off, prick. You’llneverget my attention.”
“Good. You’re back.” Marcus skates in front of me, still watching me, observing me closely.
Fuck that.
Before he can get into position, I steal the puck, skate by his left, and aim for a long-range shot.
“And he scores!” I grin, circling him. “Want to call it off now, loser?”
“It’s not over until it’s over.” He goes for the puck, but I’m ready.
The moment he tries to speed past me, I block him and slam my shoulder into his. Not too hard, because of the no-pads thing, but enough that it bites.
“Not happening.” I try to force him off me, but he doesn’t budge.
“Are you that scared of my touch?” he murmurs in a gruff, deep voice.
“I’m not scared of anything. Andstoptalking.”
I angle for the puck, but his stick tangles with mine, our shoulders locked so tight, it’s impossible to separate from him and do any of my usual quick maneuvers. Everyone knows I’m not built for these sustained collisions. That’s Jude’s job and why he fights for me.
But today, I’m not moving—will be dying on this hill.
Due to the absence of the pads, I feel every coil of his muscles, the heat of his skin, and the absolute power of the brute.
Marcus leans in harder, almost taking me off my skates. His strength hits like a battering ram, stealing air from my lungs as I try to hold my position. I brace, and he bears down again, pressing in until my ribs throb.
“Give up,” he breathes out, his helmet knocking into mine, heat curling off his words. “You’ll never beat me in strength. Not when you’re used to playing so cleanly.”
“Fuck…you…”
“I’d love that.” He grins, his mouthguard gleaming. “You have no idea how much I’dlovethat.”
Then he throws his full weight into me, and my legs scream in protest, barely keeping me upright as he drives me back.
