Page 157 of Risking the Pucking Defense

Oh God.

His filthy words have heat flooding my core, and I can’t help but wiggle my hips, searching for some friction.

I shudder as his nose traces the shell of my ear before his lips press to the sweet spot beneath. There’s no way he can’t feel just how fast my heart is racing as he peppers kisses there.

“You look insane, in case you didn’t already know.”

“Thank you. You’re looking pretty hot, too.”

“I think we’re going to have a problem tonight.”

I pull back, instantly slipping back into work mode. “Why, what’s wrong?”

He smirks at me, and I immediately know I jumped to conclusions.

“Every motherfucker in this club is going to want what’s mine,” he says, pulling back so he can look into my eyes.

His are blown with desire, and fuck if I don’t consider demanding that the driver turn straight around so we can go spend the night together in my hotel room instead of with hundreds of other people.

“None of them are going to get to have me.”

He rolls his lips between his teeth, his eyes dropping to my mouth. My fists curl at my sides with my need to climb into his lap and forget about the rest of the world.

Later.

There will be time for that later.

Right now, I need to keep it together and not walk into that club looking like I was mauled by a bear, or a six-foot-four hockey player who likes to dirty me up.

“No, they won’t. Do you know why?” he asks, his voice so rough it sends shivers down my spine. I bite down on my bottom lip, assuming it’s a rhetorical question. “Because you’re mine, Hailee.”

Holy shit, if I don’t like this jealous and possessive side of him.

“Yours,” I agree.

“Too fucking right.”

Before I can stop him—not that I really want to—his hand wraps around the back of my neck and he crashes his lips to mine, continuing what we started in the elevator earlier.

I swear, only a minute later, we’re pulling to a stop, the lights and hustle and bustle of the club outside forcing us to pull apart.

“Fuck,” I breathe, lifting my fingers to my lips.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Tonight is going to be fucking torture.”

“Just make sure those bunnies’ hands are where you can see them at all times,” I instruct, feeling a little bit possessive myself.

His nostrils flare, a smirk appearing on his lips.

“Jealous, baby?”

“Nope. Just make sure I don’t have a reason to be,” I warn, turning to open the door before he has a chance to respond.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he groans behind me as I climb out. “Do not bend over like that in front of anyone but me.”

“Don’t worry, baby. No one else needs to know that I’m not wearing any panties,” I shoot over my shoulder before marching toward the entrance where security is letting our guys in.

45