Hot Puck (Rough Riders Hockey 2)

Beckett picked up a fork and mirrored her position. He collected cake on the tip of the fork, dipped the dark chocolate in whipped cream, and brought it to her lips. “Open for me, Eden.”

A slow, sensual smile turned her lips, and she opened. He slid the cake into her mouth and watched those full lips he wanted in so many ways purse around the fork. Her lids grew heavy with pleasure, and his cock throbbed at the sight.

Oh yeah. This woman had seriously great pussy potential. If the way he craved her right now was any indication of how sex between them would be, he’d take a leap and predict it would be explosive.

“I don’t think I got a chance to tell you how absolutely gorgeous you look tonight.” He took in the way her dress outlined her toned upper arms and shoulders, curved over her full breasts, and lay flat against her abdomen. “That dress is making me crazy.”

“Thank you.” She glanced down. “It’s one of my favorites, but I wasn’t sure…”

“It’s perfect. Except that it makes me want to run my hands all over you.”

She met his eyes again with a little laugh. “Then you’re right. It is perfect. Tell me about the suits.” Her gaze slid over him. “This is the last thing I expected to see a bunch of hockey players wearing after a game.”

“It’s partly tradition,” he told her. “Something all kids do from the very start—shirts and ties in and out of the rink on game day. Those become suits in high school and the leagues. It’s a show of respect—for the game, for your team, for yourself. A symbol you take your job on the ice seriously.”

“Interesting.” She lifted her finger to his lip, rubbing away some chocolate. Beckett closed his hand over hers and took her finger between his lips, sucking the chocolate off the tip. Her lids went heavy, her eyes dark, and her tongue touched the corner of her mouth.

“Mmm,” she murmured, watching his lips as he kissed a path over her palm.

Then he took her hand between both of his as he worked on a let’s get out of here suggestion that sounded at least a little smoother. As something relatively respectable came to mind, he reached up to push a honeyed curl off her forehead.

But before he even touched her skin, she flinched.

The movement was so quick, so subtle—the soft jerk of her head, the quick flicker of lashes, the slight intake of breath—Beckett almost sensed the recoil more than experienced it. He froze, fingers millimeters from her face. His eyes cut to hers. Any doubt over her reaction vanished at the sight of her averted gaze, the way her lashes hid her pretty eyes.

A cold sensation seeped through the warmth inside him like tendrils. He passed a featherlight touch along her forehead with one finger as he’d initially planned. And when she exhaled and relaxed, his tension eased a little too.

“Sorry,” she murmured, almost a whisper.

Beckett put that let’s get out of here on hold.

“Hey,” he said softly, then waited until she met his gaze again. When she did, the woman he’d met in the Rough Riders’ locker room was somewhere way, way in the background. “Don’t apologize for…”

He sucked back words that came out sounding like a reprimand and reeled in all his thoughts, searching for a new starting point. In that instant, he saw a distinct correlation between his attempt at diplomacy now and all Lily had taught him about patience and compassion and humility since she’d come into his life.

“Okay,” he said, “Let’s get real for a minute.”

She leaned back with an oh-great-here-we-go expression. “Look, I should probably just—”

“Don’t do that.” He slid his hand over hers. “We’ve gotten this far. I’m willing to talk a little to see if we can get past this blip. I think you’re worth it.”

“You don’t know me well enough—”

“I know the woman who had the guts to shove around an angry hockey player for his own good. I know the woman who took control of that situation in a professional and, ultimately, compassionate way, then managed to make a friend of that bitchy hockey player by the time you dropped him off at the hospital.”

She laughed at the last part.

“And now,” he continued, “I know the woman who, despite something less than pleasant in her past, is here taking a chance on connecting again. So, I may not know the little things about you, like what your favorite color is or what you prefer to do on a Saturday night, but I know you’ve got character. The kind I admire.”

“You know my tough side. That’s not really who I am.”

“You know my tough side too, and you don’t even like it, but you’re still here, giving me a chance. Which means, like me, you believe there’s more than one side to a person. Unless, of course, you’re so hot for my body, you’re willing to forget everything you hate for a couple of hours to experience my godlike sexual prowess.”

Eden broke into laughter. A relieved smile lifted Beckett’s mouth, and his shoulders relaxed.

“I love your laugh.” He stroked his hand up her arm, over her shoulder. “Let’s make tonight all about you. What we do, what we don’t do, how fast or slow we go or don’t go is completely up to you. Like I said, you’ve already met your required contribution to the night by showing up.”

Her grin was soft. She lowered her chin into her hand again. “You’re a lot sweeter than I expected.”