Page 88 of Hockey Halloween
Do I hand my little witchy woman over to him… or do I drag her someplace dark and private and make good on that promise to put my mouth all over her?
“Hey, Gunther. You’re up,” Brighton calls out.
She’s not wrong. Iam up. In more ways than one. If I turn around now, half the room’s going to see the reason why I should never have worn spandex. But then I realize she means karaoke.
Right. Karaoke. Not thisrising situation in my pants.
“I need a drink first,” I say, voice hoarse. “Someone else can go.”
Before Jaxon can make his move, I grab her wrist and tug her with me, straight through the kitchen and out the back door. The October air rushes over us in a chill, but it’s not enough to cool the fire burning through me.
She shivers. “What…what are we doing out here?”
“It was getting warm in there,” I say, keeping my voice casual while my pulse jackhammers in my ears.
She fans herself and glances skyward. The moon is full, big and silver, casting shadows across the yard like it’s conjuring magic. Or maybe temptation.
“You’re right, it was. Full moon… Big Bad,” she murmurs, almost to herself.
“Dangerous night,” I say, watching her chest rise and fall. “You know a wolf can’t control the beast when the moon is like this.”
“Beast,” she whispers, dazed, like she’s caught in some kind of spell. Her eyes flick over her shoulder, back toward the house. “Do you think Jaxon saw us leave?”
“He might’ve. I was thinking?—”
“I was thinking too,” she cuts in, and that tight little note in her voice makes every nerve in my body go on alert.
I pull her close when another shiver rocks through her, and yeah, it’s cold, but I don’t think this is about temperature.
“You go first,” I murmur.
“When you said you wanted to put your mouth all over me…”
My breath catches. “Yeah?”
She swallows. “It might not be a bad idea. Even if it’s just in private. I think it could help.”
“Help?” Jesus. “Help how?” I ask, already moving. Her fingers thread with mine and I take the lead, guiding her down the flagstone path to the pool house.
“Make it easier to fake intimacy. For the crowd.”
Right. The crowd.
Jaxon.
“Before…” she continues.
I stop at the change room door, reach for the spare key hidden on the ledge. My hand shakes just a little as I slide it into the lock. “…before the ‘breakup’ later?”
She nods. “Yeah.”
I open the door and step aside, letting her walk in first. She does, and her steps slow in the dark. I grab the lantern, turn it on, and the small room is bathed in a golden glow. Her hair catches the light. Her skin practically shines. And I swear to God, it takes every ounce of strength I possess to tame the beast growling inside me.
“Cozy,” she whispers, taking two tentative steps toward the small sofa.
I follow, the thud of my heart syncing with the steady rhythm of her breath. When she sits, I drop to my knees in front of her. A soft gasp escapes her lips, catching in her throat, and that tiny sound shatters whatever control I had left.
Jesus. Am I really doing this?
