A Dash of Spice

Pulling slightly away—before they got carried away—Ciara splayed her hands over Scout’s pecs and asked, “How long are you in town, Winger?”

Her nickname for him, since he’d been a right wing forward from about the time he could walk.

Scout let out a low growl easily recognizable as sexual frustration. Said, “Just got in this morning. There’s the dedication of the ice rink tomorrow and some other business to tend to on Monday. Then on Tuesday I’ll head up to the cabin with my brothers and mother for the holiday and the remainder of the week.”

“Ah, yes, the dedication. Big doings for you. Quite the honor to specifically have your name added to the Winchester rink. That’s a sign of success in this town. All the good businesses sport the proprietor’s name.”

“Not exactly necessary in this case, since it isn’t a family business. My grandfather built the rink for me and donated it to the town when I was eight, remember? Because he didn’t like me skating along the creek when it was only partially frozen over. And since I practically lived in a jersey and carried around a stick and puck everywhere I went, he was convinced hockey was going to be my passion in life. Was right, as usual.”

“I like watching you play.”

“I like watching you walk. Damn, you’ve got a nice sway to those hips. An ass I crave to bite. Legs that don’t quit... And I remember exactly how they feel wrapped around my waist while I’m buried—”

“Shh,” she said on a long sigh as she raised a hand and pressed a finger to his lips. “Stop now or we’re going to be the talk of the town.”

“I’m sure we already are,” he mumbled around her finger, before whisking it aside. “And quite frankly… I don’t give a damn.” His mouth crashed over hers.

Ciara’s lips instantly parted and Scout’s tongue delved deep, sweeping over hers.

So much for not giving into the full-on lip-lock. She should have known it was inevitable. This was Scout Winchester, after all. Virile, aggressive, very, very alpha.

His arms tightened around her. Ciara was fairly certain he never held a woman the way he held her. But she’d never had the heart to ask. Didn’t want to know the reality of what his life—his sex life, to be exact—might be like when they weren’t together. When they had no plans for seeing each other. Were going about their own business with no mutual port in sight.

What Ciara latched onto was the intensity of their kiss. The way Scout seemed to get as lost in her as she did him.

One of his hands skimmed down to her butt and he squeezed an ass cheek. Held her more firmly against him. His erection grew and nestled her belly, exciting her even more. Hitching her pulse and her internal temperature.

All the while, he kissed her with the sort of reckless abandoned that made her crave to be alone and naked with him. To crawl all over his hunky body. Feel his hands all over hers.

Ciara had no idea how long the kiss went on and on. She didn’t care if it’d been minutes or hours. Would be absolutely content—in that sizzling-hot sort of way—if it went on and on forever.

But suddenly there was a shrill whistle and a “Woot!” that pierced the crisp, quiet night air. Followed by, “Get a room, Win!” Punctuated by the sound of a muffler-impaired truck roaring by.

Scout tore his mouth from hers and watched the vehicle continue down the street. He chuckled, albeit tightly. “Fucking Dorman.” He shook his head.

“Who?” Ciara asked in a breathless voice. She was lightheaded from the kiss. Teeming with exhilaration. A bit mind-blown.

More than a bit.

“Tom Dorman,” Scout said, not quite catching his breath, either. “Came to town midway through senior year. I don’t think you had the pleasure of meeting him at school. Thank God. You would have left me for him in a heartbeat. Strapping football type.”

“That hardly competes with rugged hockey hero.” She winked.

Scout kissed her again. Another searing one as her fingers plowed through his thick hair.

She could swear by the way he hungrily devoured her, kept her sealed to him, that he couldn’t get enough of her.

A dangerous thought. One she shouldn’t allow to invade her usually sensible, highly focused brain.

Yet she let him pull her deeper and deeper into his heated kiss. Released the tether with reality and just…felt. Scout’s hard body against hers, since he’d left the zipper of his jacket undone. His lips and mouth teasing and tasting her. His hand on her ass, kneading the cheek and causing her to rub along his powerful thigh, wedged between her parted legs.

Nothing else existed but the two of them. This late in the evening, she wasn’t too worried about additional passersby. And the chill in the air didn’t even register. In fact, Scout had her incinerating from the inside out.

Tension and need built in her core. Ciara didn’t know Scout’s dating status when it came to other women; neither of them had ever been in the position to ask for or demand exclusivity. She’d silently followed that path regardless. What was the point in being with another man when all she could think of was Scout?

Therefore, it’d been three long and lonely years since she’d been wrapped in a strong, possessive embrace. Three years since she’d been consumed by this sort of heated bliss.

Naturally, she wasn’t the least bit interested in giving up the scintillating sensations coursing through her, along with the sheer excitement of being Scout’s Girl when they were in town together.