Sterling (Carolina Reapers 6)

“Thanks,” he said, his tone back to what it’d been the whole week. Cold. Calm. Bored even.

No beating around the bush, then. Got it.

Well, here goes nothing.

“You’ve been frosty toward me,” I blurted the words but refused to lose his gaze.

He raised his brows. “Me? Cold?”

“Yes,” I said, exasperated. “Why?” A knot formed in my throat. Fuck, what if he said it was because he’d had me and now wanted nothing to do with me? That I wasn’t worth the hassle that would eventually come when my brother found out, my bosses.

He’s not like that, some hopeful bitch whispered in the back of my mind.

“I’m not the one who ignores you in public,” he fired back.

I gaped at him. “You have been!” I shook my head. “And I haven’t been ignoring you—”

“You practically acted like you didn’t know me the morning after,” he cut me off. “Like I was no one. Like I hadn’t been inside you every way possible hours before. Like—”

“Are you kidding me?” I stopped him, stepping into his space. Heat buzzed off of him in waves, and dammit, it made me ache. “I’m trying to be a professional! What did you want me to do? Straddle you in the banquet room? Cuddle up in the seat next to you and stare at you with moony eyes?” I smacked my hands on my thighs. “I don’t even know what you really want beyond you asking that no one else touch me! And you what? Wanted me to out you to your coach, our bosses? My brother and everyone who could potentially fire me or mess with your contract without us at least having a discussion about it?”

His mouth snapped shut, his eyes flaring as he stared down at me. There was only an inch of space between us, and every inch of my body cried out for his.

“Do you get how hard that is?” I asked, calming my rant.

“What?” His tone was pure gravel.

“Acting professional with you when my feelings are anything but.”

He moved closer, and I retreated, the look in his eyes wholly glazed and primal. My spine kissed the wall next to the stairs, but I didn’t break our gaze. Every nerve ending came alive as he caged me in with a hand on either side of my head.

“What do you want, London?” he asked, his words a whisper between us.

“I told you that night.” I licked my lips, my eyes fluttering from his to his mouth and back again. “I want you,” I said, release unraveling from my chest at the admission. “I know we shouldn’t. I know the risks with our jobs, my brother, everything. I know I’m the hard choice—the hassle, the lack of experience. I know you could have any woman you want—”

He crushed his mouth against mine with a kiss so dominant and primal I whimpered. My hands flew to his shirt, fisting it as I held on to him. He parted my lips with his tongue, taking my mouth in sweeping strokes and teasing flicks.

God, kissing him felt like breathing after being underwater for too long. Felt like it was necessary for my survival to feel his mouth against mine.

He jerked his head back, sucking a sharp breath as his eyes met mine. “Say it again,” he demanded, flicking his tongue over my bottom lip.

My thighs clenched, an ache wrenching deep in my core. “I want you, Jansen,” I said, not needing him to clarify. “No one else.” His eyes guttered, and he slanted his mouth over mine, claiming it enough to steal the breath from my lungs.

He took my mouth with starvation and relief and it…broke me.

Because he’d needed to hear me say it. Needed to hear me say I wanted him for him. The reasoning behind that need hadn’t been shared with me yet, but it was enough to make my heart ache for him as much as my body.

Who wouldn’t want this man? This strong, smart, funny man with so much depth and passion to him? Who wouldn’t rip apart their very lives to be with him? As I was clearly doing now—because there were risks, stakes to what we were doing, and most definitely consequences, but I just didn’t care.

“I,” I said, breaking our kiss for just a moment. “Want.” I tugged at the hem of his shirt, and he pulled it over his head with one arm. “You,” I finished on a gasp as I ran my fingers over his chest.

He deserved to hear it again and again.

As many times as he needed for it to sink in.

“I want your teasing words,” I said, breathless. “I want your challenges, your jokes. I want your eyes on me in the arena. And I have an impossible time watching anyone else on the ice. Jansen, I want every single piece of you.”