Page 13 of Blood on Ice

“What if I told you I’m a fan, that I’ve been following your career since the beginning?”

“That’s called stalking.”

“Do you say that to all your fans?”

“Seriously, why are you following me?”

“Because I want you.” His smile was sexier than the devil’s. I bet he could seduce most guys with nothing more than a look. I had to get out of here.

“Tonight, I’ll settle for your signature.” He held out a jersey, one with my number and name on it. “Sign the back for me.”

It wasn’t a question; it was a command he clearly expected me to follow.

I hesitated. Would it be easier to just sign it for him or was it worth fighting him to tell him no? Would he cause a scene if I did? I glanced down, a gun was clearly visible where his suitjacket had slid to the side. How much trouble was I in? He wouldn’t shoot me right here in the bar, would he?

“If I sign it, will you leave me alone?”

“For now.”

“What does that mean?”

He didn’t answer. He just held out the jersey and let go of me so he could pull a marker from his jacket pocket.

I took it and turned to put the jersey against the wall. I worked slowly, making sure my signature was legible, then realized there was no reason for me to care. I didn’t want to be doing this. The guy really was fucking stalking me.

I felt his eyes on me as I finished the signature, the marker scraping across the rough fabric.

I turned to look as if he could control my every movement, the careful signature, my need to look at him, all of it. Our eyes met, and my breath caught. He was way too fucking hot. His eyes were ridiculously dark and his lashes obscenely long.

My cock was responding to the heat of his stare and the way he assessed me. My tongue skated out and wet my lips as we held each other’s gaze.

He smiled. “We’ll be good together.”

“No.” The word was barely audible, my voice too scratchy and rough.

“Yes.” He didn’t look away. I told myself to, but I couldn’t. I held out the jersey and the marker. He took them and brought the jersey to his face, pressing his nose to where I’d held it and breathing deeply.

I swallowed hard, and my cock went from interested to fully ready.

“Delicious,” he said as he tucked the marker back into his pocket.

“I…You….”

“Yes. You want me too. I know you do.”

I shook my head and forced myself to take a step back, but he moved forward, coming closer and closer until we were only inches apart.

My gaze dropped to his lips. They were full and bitable, and a desperate need to taste him almost had me closing the last of the distance between us.

He smiled. Did he know he was right, that I did want him? Want didn’t matter, though. I was done following my wants. I needed to learn how to focus on needs only. I had to get myself together.

I didn’t move. I just stood there, frozen, watching him.

He lifted his hand and reached for me. I started to step back, but he clasped my upper arm with his other hand as he rubbed his thumb over my lips. I sucked in a breath. Fuck. He might as well have touched my dick. How could something so simple feel so good?

He brought his thumb to his own mouth and licked it, closing his eyes like he was savoring the echo of my taste.

“That’s enough for tonight.”

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