Connell (Carolina Reapers 3)

“Well, yes. Oh...that feels good.” Her eyes fluttered shut, and she sighed softly.

“Why?”

“It’s hard to explain. But that nightmare some people get about forgetting their homework or being naked at school? I can’t even think about it. I just freeze up from absolute mortification at the thought. I don’t even watch movies where embarrassing things happen. It’s like I’m right there with the character, dying on the screen from public humiliation. I would rather break a bone than suffer through something like that.” With each word, her posture softened a little until she relaxed against me, her head resting against my stomach.

“I guess I never thought of it like that,” I mused, mostly to keep my brain occupied on what we were talking about and not the feel of her skin beneath my fingers.

“Of course, you didn’t. You, who pranks the entire Reaper team just to get a laugh.”

“I never hurt anyone, lass.” Just the insinuation had my hackles bristling.

“Not physically,” she chastised but moaned softly as I moved my hands to the nape of her neck and massaged the rigid muscles there.

“Not in the way you’re thinking, either,” I countered softly. “I don’t ever prank someone who can’t handle it, or wouldn’t want me to. Sure, I like to get the guys laughing, but I’m not that big of an arse.”

She relaxed so completely that I held the weight of her head in my hand as I worked her neck with the other. If anyone needed to lighten up a little, it was Annabelle, but neither of my methods for relieving tension would sit well with her.

“For example,” my voice dropped. “I would never prank you or cause you embarrassment now that I know that about you. Getting someone—for fun, that is—is all about knowing that person well enough to know what makes them laugh. What makes them tick. It wouldn’t be funny for me to see you in pain.”

Her eyes opened, and that twisting sensation in my chest transformed to an ache. “So you’ll never prank me?”

I smirked. “I won’t say that I’ll never prank you. That feels too final. But I will say that I’ll never do anything that causes you to feel humiliated. There’s nothing funny about that.”

She drew her lower lip between her teeth, and when she released it, I had to physically stop myself from lowering my mouth to hers so I could taste what she had. Where was my usual restraint? Sure, I fucked my share of women, but I’d never been...desperate for one. That’s what this was turning into—desperation. Shit.

Her cell phone pinged on the desk, and Annabelle groaned. “Real life calls, I guess. And don’t worry about humiliating me. I’ve done that myself already. I bet that’s the mayor, asking if we’ve signed the PR contract.” She lifted her head and I hated the chill that replaced where the warmth of her skin had been.

“I wouldn’t worry about announcing the reserve,” I said with a grin as she rolled her chair forward and reached for her cell phone.

“Of course, I’m going to…” She scrolled through an app—my guess was Instagram—and her jaw dropped. Finally, she turned to me with wide eyes. “What did you do?”

“I announced it for you,” I answered with a shrug, hopping off the table.

“You...just like that?”

“Just like that,” I replied, heading back toward my desk.

“I can’t even think of words—holy hell, how many followers do you have?”

“A little over a million.” I hefted the box of files into my arms and turned to see her gawking up at me from her seat.

“A...million?”

“You don’t have to look so horrified, lass.” A grin spread over my face at the expression on hers. I’d finally found a way to stupify Annabelle, and I was savoring every minute of it.

“I’m not, I swear!” She stood quickly as I walked past her desk. “I just didn’t realize how popular you are. Of course, I know you play for the NHL and everything, I just didn’t realize people cared so much about…” her voice faded as she scrolled through my feed. “Abdominals,” she muttered.

“Well, they do make it easier to power through my shots.” This was even better than pranking her.

She flushed that deep shade of pink I loved as her eyes flew back to mine. “What? I mean, how do I say thank you?”

“You just did.”

The smile she gifted me with felt far more intimate than my last dozen sexual encounters. I got the hell out of that office before I acted on it.

One week later, I was two-thirds through completing my sentence—not that I was counting. Fine, so I was counting, but not for the reason I’d initially started the calendar marking at home. In two weeks, I wouldn’t have a reason to see Annabelle every day, which sent a stab of unexpected anxiety through my system.