Blocker (Seattle Sharks 5)

“Everyone is in the VIP lounge,” Lukas shouted above the music as he pointed at a text message on his phone.

I nodded to acknowledge him and we made our way through the throng of people on the dance floor, pausing to take pictures when a few fans asked.

Lukas tapped me on the shoulder. “Isn’t that your girl?” he asked, pointing a few gyrating couples away.

My stomach dropped as I saw her pale blonde hair, her curves swaying to the—

Damn, and Connor thinks I’m playing with fire.

“Nope,” I answered, more relieved that I should have been. “That’s Ivy.”

“How can you tell them apart?”

“Just can.” I shrugged. It wasn’t just that Pepper’s hair was tipped with pink. She had a softer smile, and her hips had a more generous curve that made my palms itch to get ahold of her.

Sure, Ivy was beautiful, but she was missing that magnetic element that drew me to Pepper and turned me into a drooling pile of primal need. There was no better way to say it: she just wasn’t Pepper.

We passed the crowd and headed up the spiral staircase as my cell phone buzzed inside my flight suit. I slipped it free and swiped my thumb over the screen.

MOM: I seem to have received a large deposit in our account.

ERIC: Oh?

I responded as we climbed to the second floor.

MOM: Eric. Gentry.

ERIC: Get the combine fixed. Tell dad it was an unexpected refund from something.

MOM: Like what? A House?

A smile broke across my face, imagining the way she no doubt had her eyebrow arched in my general direction right now.

“Ahhh, they’re here!” I heard someone say, and looked up to see that we’d entered the VIP lounge.

ERIC: Whatever you have to. Just please let me take care of you. You’ve always taken care of me.

MOM: That’s my job.

ERIC: It’s mine now, too. Gotta run. Love you, Mom.

MOM: Love you. And Eric...thank you.

I didn’t answer her because I never knew how to. She didn’t need to thank me. Any son would do the same for the parents who sacrificed everything for him. I put my phone away and turned my attention to—

Holy fucking shit.

Pepper cut between the dozen or so people sitting on couches and gave me a smile that went straight to my dick. Or maybe it was her skin-tight leathers that put every curve she had on display.

“Hey!” she said with a little bounce in her step. “It’s about time you showed up. Do you get it?” She pivoted, giving me a mouth-watering view of her ass.

I needed to gouge out the eyes of every guy here. Immediately.

It was a good thing I was wearing this flight suit because I was definitely going to need a little room south of the belt.

“Black Widow,” I answered, then cleared my throat.

“You paid attention!” She smacked me in the chest.

“Hard not to in that outfit,” Lukas muttered.

I gave him a glare that had him dropping his aviators down.

“Red?” I asked, motioning to her flaming locks.

“Temporary,” she answered. “You?”

“I’m Maverick.”

“I’m Maverick.”

Connor and I spoke simultaneously.

Her eyes flickered between us. “Oh, are you?”

“Seriously?” I asked Connor.

“Bro. Why would I pick out Top Gun costumes and then assign myself Goose?” He looked at me like I’d grown a second head.

“I’m Ice Man,” Lukas said, fully comfortable in his role.

“That, you are,” Pepper laughed. “Come on, let’s get you three some drinks.”

I grabbed a beer from the bartender in the corner, and we sat with our teammates on a long, sectional couch.

Two shots later, I wasn’t drunk, but I sure wasn’t feeling any pain. Pepper moved closer, sliding under my arm, which stretched across the back of the couch.

Scratch that. My cock was in plenty of pain.

Did she have to smell so good?

“Want to go dance?” she asked.

“No,” I answered instantly, thinking of all the gyrating bodies on the floor. The last thing I needed was her moving to the beat, swaying her body with mine. I already rode a knife edge of control when it came to her, and that would push me right fucking over.

“Not a dancer?”

“Not tonight,” I answered, trying to keep my voice soft so she didn’t feel rejected. Hell yes, I wanted to dance with her. But I needed to stay on the team, which meant keeping my dick to myself.

“Oh come on, have you two fucked yet, or what?” Ivy asked, sitting across from us with her leg thrown over Crosby’s.

Pepper spit out her amaretto sour, spraying it to fine mist all over the carpet.

I let my eyebrows go north to let Ivy know what I thought of her question.

“Really, Ivy?” Pepper laughed.

“What? You’re together twenty-four-seven. It’s bound to happen. Look at you.” She motioned to where Pepper sat tucked against my side.

“It’s possible for a guy and a girl to be friends, you know,” Pepper fired back.

“Sure, but not when you look like you two,” she answered.

“And how is that?”

“You’re hot,” I admitted before my brain could stop my mouth.

Pepper’s eyes swung to mine. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Oh shit. I could drown in those eyes. They were like a truth serum, yanking shit out of my mouth I had no business saying.

“You are, too.” Her hand lightly raked down my trimmed beard.

My hand stayed firmly on the couch, gripping the leather like my life depended on it so I didn’t grab her leather.

“Yeah, that’s gonna happen,” Crosby threw his hat in the ring.

“Oh, it’s imminent,” Ivy agreed.

Pepper cut her eyes back at her sister. “We’re mature adults. We can just be friends.”

“Sure,” Ivy said as Crosby ran his hand up her leg. “Until you cross a line. Friendship is great, but when there’s the promise of sex, biology is kicking in the door.”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “That’s not true.”

Then she had both of her hands on my face and her lips on mine.

Before I could react, they were gone, leaving mine blistered and hungry.

What the fuck?

“See?” Pepper said, dropping her hands. “Line crossed. Shockingly, we’re not ripping each other’s clothes off or going at it on the couch, because we have something known as control. Oh, and common sense, we have that, too.”

She’d kissed me.

Had that even qualified as a kiss? I hadn’t even gotten to taste her. What the hell was this emotion coursing through me? I felt...cheated.

“I didn’t even feel anything!” Pepper exclaimed.

Annnnnd that was the final fucking straw.

“If you’ll excuse me,” I bit out as I stood. Scanning the room, I saw a door marked, “Private Viewing Area,” and damn-near ran to get out of there before I showed her what feeling it would be.

Shutting the door behind me, I found a small room that overlooked the dance floor, wide enough only for a couch and a half-dozen feet before the windows I knew were blacked out from the outside.

I folded my arms across my chest and drew air through my lungs in measured counts, mentally listing the reasons I couldn’t walk back in there and kiss the shit out of her.

My job was on the line.

Girls like Pepper didn’t hook up, and guys like me didn’t make time commitments they couldn’t keep during the season.

I really liked my job.

She deserved someone who could devote a hundred percent of his attention to her.

The door opened and shut behind me.

“I’m fine, Connor,” I said.

“Not Connor,” Pepper answered.

Fuck.

“Are you ma

d at me?” she asked softly, walking over to stand at the opposite end of the couch from where I stood.

I clenched my teeth, shaking my head as I watched the couples dancing beneath us. If I so much as looked at her, it wasn’t going to end well.

“Come on, Eric. All I did was prove that we don’t really have chemistry, so implying that we’d end up—”

“What?” I snapped, finally looking at her.

Those blue eyes flew wide. “I mean, I didn’t really feel anything during that kiss…”