Hot Puck (Rough Riders Hockey 2)

“Well, let’s solve that problem right now.” She took two steps toward him. Until his heat circled her. Until his scent—something clean and spicy—filled her head.

Live, Eden.

She slipped one hand under his blazer and around his waist. He was warm and hard, and desire flooded in.

Live, Eden.

She met his surprised eyes, skimmed her other hand against his rough cheek, and combed her fingers into his hair.

Live, Eden.

And pulled his head down for their first kiss. Her first kiss in two long years.

6

She took Beckett so off guard, he didn’t even close his eyes as she kissed him. He was shocked into stupefaction and froze, as if he’d forgotten what to do with a woman.

The moment seemed to pass in slow motion. Her long lashes lowered as her gaze focused on his mouth, and when her lips touched his, her breath whispered out and her lids closed.

It was the feel of her sweet body softening, her belly, her hips, her thighs all rubbing against his, that finally made Beckett’s eyes fall closed. His heart kicked into a sprint. His hands lifted automatically, but he wasn’t sure where to lay them. Did he wrap his arms around her? Should he rest his hands on her arms?

Shit, he had forgotten what to do with a woman. If this were a normal hookup, he’d know exactly what to do. But he wasn’t particularly interested in just a hookup, yet he couldn’t give any more of himself with the demands of his career and Lily and the custody issue…

While he’d been lost in all that indecision, he’d missed the kiss. Eden pulled back. Air drifted over his lips, and disappointment clouded his chest.

But she retreated only far enough to shoot a sassy little smile up at him. “To make this convincing, you should probably participate.”

God, he was a dumb shit. He’d jumped way the hell ahead of the situation. But he cut himself some slack. It had been a solid four or five months since he’d had sex. Hell, maybe six. He couldn’t even remember the last woman he’d been involved with who hadn’t been a puck bunny. Even the French bicoastal model-slash-actress he’d been seeing steadily before he’d taken custody of Lily had been a fan first, a lover second.

He huffed a laugh and laid his hands on her shoulders, then let his forehead rest against hers. “You blindsided me there. I turned fifteen again for a few seconds, the prettiest girl in school took me under the bleachers, and I didn’t know what the hell to do.”

She laughed. A light, quiet, little giggle that utterly charmed him. And the urge to really kiss her overwhelmed him.

He stroked his hands down her arms, then back up, tempted by the sweater’s softness, tantalized by her warmth beneath. Then he cupped her face with both hands. “Let’s try that again.”

Her hand tightened in his shirt. The spark in her eyes turned hot. And Beckett held her gaze until their lips touched again. Then he let his eyes close and explored her lips with his. Soft, supple, warm, responsive. In less than ten seconds, he was licking her lips, silently asking her to open. And when she let him in, Beckett’s brain did a little spin.

Their tongues touched, stroked. Warm, wet, soft. And his cock stiffened to attention. She tasted like lemon and sugar and vodka. A delicious kind of hunger bloomed inside him. The kind he hadn’t felt in a really, really long time. The kind that encompassed more than his cock.

He let one hand slide into the silky soft strands of her hair. Opening wider, tasting deeper, he let the other roam over her shoulder and down her slim back, then wrapped his arm low on her hips. Circling his tongue with hers, he pulled her in, letting her feel what she was doing to him. Her quick, soft intake of air felt like lightning through his body.

She pulled back a little, just enough to break the kiss. But she held on tight and looked at him with a dazed kind of hunger that gripped Beckett by the groin and wouldn’t let go. “Aren’t you one surprise after another?”

He licked her taste from his lips. “I was thinking the same thing about you.”

Her gaze drifted past his shoulder. “Looks like one of your problems is solved.”

Still holding her, he glanced that direction. All the guys had turned back toward the bar and refocused on their own conversations. He returned his gaze to her with a grin. “I owe you.”

A sexy smile brightened her face. “I plan to collect.”

“God, I hope so.”

He stroked both hands over her back from shoulders to hips. She was trim and tight, with subtle curves that tempted, and his mind darted toward all kinds of naughty, beautiful, sexy things he hoped they had to look forward to tonight.

“About dessert,” he murmure

d. “Are you still off the menu? ’Cause I’ve got a craving that won’t quit.”