Page 153 of Stick It
A chorus of “Yes, Coach,” echoes through the lobby as guys gather round to get their room assignments and keys. When it’s my turn, Bear hands it over, saying, “You’ve got your own room. It’s across the hall from mine, and I’ve put these guys on the same floor.” He gestures to Griffin, Finn, Ethan, and Jax surrounding me.
“Thanks, Bear. I appreciate it.”
He nods, before fixing each of the guys with a stern look. He holds their keys hostage for a moment. “I don’t want any shenanigans,” he half growls. “No banging doors or switching rooms in the middle of the night. We’re here to play a game. To win. That’s it, got it?”
With serious expressions and backs straight, the guys murmur, “Yes, sir,” before Bear surrenders their keys. With a roll of his eyes and a soft smile directed my way, he dismisses us.
“Bear, huh?” Finn says when we’re all inside the elevator. “Because he’s growly like a grizzly?”
I shake my head, grinning. “Because he’s cuddly like a teddy bear.”
His face scrunches into the most hilarious expression. “I don’t see it.”
“Same,” the others chorus.
“I’ve not once ever gotten that vibe from him,” Jax states as the elevator rises. “I’d rather attempt to hug this one than Coach.” He flicks his thumb Griffin’s way, and Griffin gnashes his teeth savagely.
“I’d sooner rip your head from its shoulders. Only person I want touching me is Hurricane.”
Jax fixes me with an arched brow and thinned lips.See?
“What do you reckon the chances are of my balls remaining attached to my body if I called him Bear?” Finn muses aloud.
“Zero,” Ethan says without missing a beat.
“Nil,” Jax adds.
“He’d probably ram them so far down your throat, you’ll never speak again.” Finn visibly pales at Griffin’s graphic image.
“I dunno, I think you should try it,” I say with faux innocence. Turning toward him, I flutter my lashes before dragging the tip of my index finger down the front of his shirt, noting the hardness of his muscles beneath. “I’ll make it worth your while, if you do.”
For a second, his eyelids droop, pupils becoming hazy with lust, before he blinks it away. Instead, a lascivious smirk transforms his face into something mischievous.
“Careful, Hellion. You’re playing with fire.” He steps closer, seemingly bringing the walls of the elevator with him, until it feels as though all the oxygen has been sucked out of the air, leaving only a hint of his aftershave—something rich and oaky—behind.
I forget about the others’ presence as he reaches up, tugging on a loose strand of hair before tucking it behind my ear. It’s a strangely intimate gesture, especially from Finn. Especially after he’s worked so hard to stay away from me these past weeks. For him to suddenly touch me so effortlessly feels…strange, and yet, my insides rejoice at the contact. At the breaking down of barriers. At the realization that we’re moving beyond secret back room kisses laden with guilt and shame and moving into the light. Into something real. Something we both acknowledge and accept. Something that could last?
Only time will tell.
“As tempting of an offer as that is,” he murmurs, voice flowing over me like warm whiskey, “I like my balls where they are.” His lips skim the corner of my jaw. “And I think that’s where you’d prefer they stay too.”
Thedingof the elevator announcing that we’ve reached our floor saves me from melting into a puddle of steaming goo. Still, the guys give me knowing, heated looks as they file past me. However, there is no jealousy, no sharp barbs, or cutting remarks. Only mirrored expressions of lust. Want.Need.
Fucking hell, what have I gotten myself in for with these guys?!
Taking a moment, I fan my heated face before following them off the elevator. As a group, we head down the hall in search of our rooms. We come across mine first, and the guys all wait while I drop my bag off.
Grabbing my phone, I do a quick scan of the basic room—king-size bed, TV on the wall, window overlooking the street below—before I lock my door behind me and follow the guys to their rooms.
Just like before we got on the coach, I can see the argument coming before it unfolds. So can Finn. We’ve no sooner slowed to a stop in the hallway outside their rooms when he grabs my arm and drags me through the door on the left.
Protests start up behind us, and glancing over his shoulder, he calls, “You got her on the bus. Only fair we get her until the game.”
“I didn’t—” The door slams closed behind us, cutting off Jax’s protest.
Glancing around the room, it’s similar to mine, with plainwhite walls and artwork typical of that found in generic hotels. A TV hangs on one wall, and a window overlooks the parking lot. The primary difference is the two double beds instead of the one large king in my room.
Dropping his duffel, Finn launches himself onto the bed by the window with a loud sigh, starfishing so he’s taking up the whole thing. My lips twist in a semblance of a smile as I watch him. A click from behind has me turning as Griffin slips into the room. “We’ll meet up with them just before six and go down together.”
