Page 151 of Secret Obsession
I dig the edges of my blades into the ice, readying myself for Willow’s first shot. She’s absolutely fucking hot in the baby-pink sweater and leggings. I almost stripped her completely bare in the penalty box—which was a complete improvisation as it was.
Not that I regret it. The taste of her is still on my lips, on my tongue, and I savor it while focusing on my girl.
She wasn’t going to come back. She’s so twisted in the head, she doesn’t see what’s right in front of her. Those wild emotions of hers are tangled up inside, and all I want to do is show her how to smooth it out.
Except my emotions are fickle, too. And sometimes anger is the only thing I feel—especially on the ice.
Until I see her.
And Iknowshe feels the same.
“Ready to lose?” she calls, smiling.
I almost say yes. But I catch myself at the last second and focus on the way she pulls the stick back. The slapshot sends the puck way left. I don’t even bother going for it because it’s going clear of the net. And sure enough, it hits the wall.
Her pout makes me want to kiss her.
“You can do better than that,” I call.
She scowls and retrieves another puck. Her skating abilities were a surprise—and damn, her ass looks good when she moves across the ice.
Her head darts to the side. She eyes me, barely moving. It’s just a twitch of her wrist, and the puck sails at me. Better aim this time.
I catch it low and toss it aside, prepared for the next one that comes immediately after. High. Her aim improves, and she drifts closer.
The next one comes at center mass, and I stop it with my arm guard, deflecting it off to the side. That would’ve sucked if she nailed me in the chest.
“Do you give up?” I ask.
“Never,” she replies.
Well, she will when she runs out of things to hit.
“I want to fuck you on this ice,” I say, right as she shoots. I laugh when it goes wide, and her pretty face turns a deeper red. “And map out exactly where your tattoo will go…”
“Anyone could walk in. We’re not—”
“Where’s your sense of adventure, wild girl?” I straighten. “New rule. For every shot you miss, you take off a piece of clothing.”
Her lips part. “Are you kidding? I’m barely wearing anything—”
I grin. “Do you still want to play?”
She finds another puck, her expression determined. Oh, I love her competitive streak.
But I’m one of the best goalies in college hockey—does she think she has a chance?
I catch the next one and toss it, grinning at her. It’s unfair, really, how easy it is to block them. But I feel a bit of pride, too. Like I’m showing off.
I motion to her, and she scowls. After a moment, she pulls off that pink sweater and throws it onto the ice behind her. Her blonde hair swings around her face. Her tits are contained in a matching pink bra that has some extra straps to it across the top. It doesn’t hide the bandage she’s put over her heart, concealing the X I carved into her skin yesterday.
Her chest heaves, and her toned stomach flexes.
My dick gets even fucking harder. Any chance of losing my erection disappears entirely.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” I tell her.
She shifts her weight. “Maybe you should strip, too.”
