Power Play (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 2)
I look over my shoulder at her. “This way, you’ll think of me when you’re using them.”
She scoffs. “The only time I’ll use them is with you. So, duh, I’ll be thinking of you.”
“That was my plan all along,” I tease, and she beams as she puts the silverware in the little tray.
When her phone goes off, she glances at it, making a face. “I don’t know how my parents fail to realize that I’m independent and don’t need help.”
“Guess I’m chopped liver,” I throw at her, and she giggles.
“Well, I don’t need you to help. I want you to help.”
“I’d rather be wanted than needed.”
“Exactly,” she says as I step between her legs while she texts her parents. I run my hands up her thighs, and she leans her forehead against my lips. I kiss her brow softly, and she tosses her phone to the side. She runs her hands up my waist, to my chest, before scooting back to look at me. I adore how her eyes change all the time. When she is lusting after me, they’re a darker blue. But when she’s happy, they’re the brightest blue. She has the most interesting eyes I’ve ever seen. I cup her face, and she turns her head, kissing my palm before leaning her cheek into it. “I was thinking.”
“So dangerous when you think. Usually leads to new plays that kick my ass.”
She puckers her lips, and I have no choice but to kiss them. When I pull back, she wraps her arms around my neck. “By the way, I’m so impressed by you. You’re the one kicking the ass out of my plays. You make this girl super proud.”
“My girl.”
Her brow perks. “Huh?”
“I make my girl super proud.”
She curves her lips. “You do.”
I slide my hands up her thighs once more, cupping her ass. “So, tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Well,” she starts, running her fingers along the hair on my jaw. “I was thinking back to what you said about your plan to tell everyone we’re together.”
I meet her gaze, and I’m unsure why my heart is stopping in my chest. I shouldn’t be worried, but for some odd reason, I am. “Yeah?”
“I don’t want to live in your house.”
My stomach drops. “You don’t want to live together?”
“No, I do. But not in that house.”
I cock my head. “I’m confused.”
“It’s Julia’s and your house. I don’t like it, and I don’t like the memories it brings up for you. I’d rather start somewhere new. Somewhere that’s ours,” she says, searching my eyes. “That is, if we’re together and all.”
“We’ll be together,” I say confidently. “You’re not nice to me on the ice, and I still can’t stop thinking of you. I like the abuse, apparently.”
She beams. “I’m beyond sweet to you.”
“You threw your glove at me and then threw the other at Wes to make it seem like you weren’t singling me out.”
She throws up her hands. “I said cut left, and you went right!” she yells, her eyes wild. “It was a simple switch play, Boon. I mean, hell!”
She’s so passionate, so headstrong. I love it. “See, I’m so turned on right now,” I admit, and she laughs loudly, freely, and I can’t get enough.
“You are a glutton for punishment.”
“Only from you,” I say with a wink, kissing the side of her mouth. “And I get it. I don’t like living there either.”
She nods. “I know. You hate it.”
“I don’t know why I picked it.”
“She ruined it for you,” she reminds me. “And that’s okay. It’s not your forever home.”
“Nope, it’s not.”
“So, you’re not mad at me, right?”
“Not at all,” I say, holding her closer. “Like I said, I understand. Maybe I can sell it to Wes or rent it to him and a couple guys.”
“That’s an idea.”
“Or maybe I can sell it to Aiden. Aren’t they looking for a place?”
“Yes, but wouldn’t that put you and Wes out since they’re looking now?”
I shrug. “I’ll move in here.”
Her lips quirk. “Oh, is that right?”
“Yup. I have closet space.” I gather her closer in my arms. “And tell me you don’t want me here.”
“I can’t do that,” she whispers as our lips come close together. “You’ve got some kind of hold on me.”
“I know I do. It’s the same one you’ve got on me,” I say, our eyes locked together passionately and perfectly. “I like that you’re thinking of our future. I didn’t think you were.”
She licks her lips as she shrugs. “I don’t let it happen much. I don’t want to get ahead of myself.”
“Why not? It’s fun.”
She giggles as her fingers dance against my neck, sending chills down my spine. “I don’t know… I get worried.”
“About what?”
“That you’ll drop me.”
“Bullshit,” I insist. “I give you no reason to think that.”
She searches my gaze. “You don’t.”
“I know I don’t, so don’t think like that. It’s pointless and detrimental to us. I like us a lot, and you should too. We’ve got an awesome thing going here.”