Page 36 of Puck Me Secretly

“And the GM?”

“He agrees with me.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“No other player has a media gag. I’m wondering why I have one?”

“Do you want to talk to the media?”

“I don’t give a fuck about the media. That’s not what I asked.”

“You told me you don’t want any distractions.”

He sounded pissed. “You’re protecting me?”

“I’m helping you shut out the noise.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because if I shut out the noise and you can focus, you’re the best player on this team. I want you to go far. I want you to be the best.”

“Are you for real?”

Anyone else would express their gratitude. Not Max.

“Yes. I’m for real.”

His eyes drifted down my body and back up. “What’s the catch?”

“It also works to our club’s benefit to avoid any undue media storms.”

“You mean bad press.”

I choose my words with care. “We are concerned with the overall health of the club’s image.”

He stepped up next to me and took the glass from my hands. A faint sweet, woody fragrance, that was distinctly Max, teased my senses. It was subtle but masculine. I watched as he drained my glass.

“You know, you’re the only one around here who’s honest with me?”

I stared up at his eyes, in particular his eyelashes. They were sooty black and thick.

He glanced down at me and frowned. “Were you crying?”

“No.”

His big hand moved up to my face, and I felt his thumb smear a lone tear from beneath my eye.

I swallowed as I stared up at him, feeling vulnerable. Didn’t matter that less than a month ago, I had been doing the ugly cry in front of him when our plane was going down. Now, my tears were an admission of weakness. It spoke about how over my head I was in this job, and about how much my conversation with Katrina affected me. We were no longer strangers facing death together. Now, so much more was at stake which meant that tears could no longer be on the menu.

His blues dropped to my mouth. “Fuck I’m going to regret this.”

“Regret what?”

His hand slid around my neck and then he tugged me closer. My breath was a staccato in my ribcage as he dropped his head down towards mine. And then his mouth moved over mine, stealing my breath. He tasted like gin and warm male. His playful kiss coaxed meuntil my mouth opened beneath his. I moaned, and he groaned in response. I felt him tug me closer as he deepened the kiss. It languorously combined wicked sensation and shameless desire.

My heart slammed in my chest, and I swear my knees were shaking.

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