Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“The shower?” A wicked gleam passed through her beautiful eyes.
“I remember making you a promise to fuck these.” I lowered my head and kissed the swells of her breasts.
“A shower sounds delightful.” She laughed, and I scooped her into my arms, dodging the discarded coat as I took her straight upstairs and made good on my promise.
16
EVIE
“The Chicago air looks good on you,” Maxim said as we stood in our hotel room.
Maxim was in a slick navy-blue suit, his tie perfectly poised around his neck, and was due to be at the team bus any minute now.
I grinned up at him, gliding the sleek fabric of his tie through my finger as I reached up on my tiptoes, my mouth an inch from his. “Everything looks good on you,” I said, playfully brushing a kiss over his mouth.
A low growl rumbled in his chest from the too-light tease, and he gently gripped my shoulders, spinning me around so my spine kissed the closed door. He caged me in, cobalt eyes firmly on mine. “I fucking love having you here with me,” he said, trailing the tip of his nose over mine. “Love that you finally decided to travel with me.”
Warm shivers danced over my skin, my core clenching with need. He kept saying love in all ways but one. I didn’t let it bother me for one second though, not when everything had been going so well between us—the main reason I’d decided to tag along on the away-game trip for the first time.
We were doing amazing. The walls between us now felt paper-thin, and sure, he hadn’t responded when I’d told him I’d loved him…several times, but could I really blame him? I’d had a lifetime of practice when it came to loving Maxim Zolotov.
What was happening between us was new to him. Plus, he never failed to assure me that I was different than his past relationships. I was special. His one and only lucky charm. Speaking of…
“I owe you a kiss,” I breathed the words, my entire body practically buzzing from how his body was flush with mine, how his fingers were trailing the base of my skull and down my neck, over my collarbone and lower.
“You owe me a hell of a lot more than a kiss when I get back,” he said, flashing me that devious grin I loved so much. “If it wasn’t for the game, I’d strip you of these leggings and fuck you with nothing but that jersey on.”
I glanced down at the Reapers jersey I wore—his of course. I’d always worn his name on my back, but the meaning had changed since we’d become official. I now knew what it felt like to belong completely to him, and it was the most exciting and terrifying feeling I’d ever experienced.
“Now you like it,” I teased, drawing my gaze back up to his. “Only took you six years.”
Maxim snaked his hands around my lower back, drawing me up until I locked my ankles around his back and threaded my arms behind his neck. “I was stubborn,” he said, his eyes apologetic as he shook his head. “I didn’t see what was right in front of me. I should’ve seen you. I should’ve—”
“I was kidding, Maxim,” I said, brushing my lips over his again before kissing him harder. I slanted my mouth over his, my thighs clenching around his hips as he pressed me against the door. He groaned when our tongues met, and a collision of need and desire and hunger slammed through me.
God, kissing Maxim was as invigorating as a triple shot of espresso and as seductive as a book boyfriend. It filled me to the brim with happiness.
Maxim freed one of his hands, tangling his fingers in my hair and tugging gently so he could kiss me from a deeper angle. I whimpered as his tongue explored my mouth, the sweet flicks and searing dips making my toes curl in my shoes. That mouth…God, he could do so many amazing things with that mouth.
“Ugh,” he groaned, ripping his lips from mine, the rhythm of his heaving chest matching mine. “I want you,” he said. “I want your flavor on my tongue.”
“Maxim,” I breathed his name. “The game…”
“Fuck the game,” he all but growled, jerking me against him so I could feel how hard he was through the thin fabric of my leggings.
I gasped, instinct driving me to arch against that hard length. I shivered, but somehow managed to find a grip. “Maxim,” I said, then shimmied my way out of his hold. My feet hit the floor, and I put my palms against his chest and gently nudged him away enough for me to get past him. “I just gave you all the luck I had,” I teased as I stood next to the hotel bed. “You better go spend it,” I continued, motioning toward the door. “So you can refill it later.”