Page 193 of Playing the Pucking Game
I don’t say a word for fear I might scare him off.
Fire shoots through my veins, making me burn from the inside out at just the thought of what he’s doing, of what’s going on in his head.
It’s not until his knee hits the mattress that words finally spill free.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“Your bed is more comfortable,” he explains as he stretches himself out beside me.
“O-oh,” I breathe, unable to find any other words.
Slowly, I lower myself back down, leaving us side by side.
Seconds stretch to minutes. The only thing I can hear is my own heavy breathing as I wait to see what’s going to happen next.
Surely he didn’t come in here to just sleep…did he?
“You need to turn that brain off,” he whispers. “Your thoughts are so loud.”
“W-what? I’m not even?—”
“Liar.” I huff in irritation that he knows me so well. “Either tell me, or roll over and go to sleep.”
My mouth opens and closes, but I quickly decide there’s no way I can tell him where my head is at right now. It’s still full of images of him walking around his room in those boxers. Shit. Is he wearing them now?
I bet he is.
My fingers twitch to reach out and find out if I’m right.
“Parker,” he growls, dragging me from my thoughts, and I quickly roll over, giving him my back.
He chuckles knowingly as he shuffles closer.
I stop breathing as the front of his body lines up with my back, and his arm wraps around my waist, holding me tight.
“You need to relax, little P.”
I release the breath I was holding on his command, but I can’t say I relax all that much. Especially when I wriggle a little in his hold to get comfy and discover something.
“Linc,” I warn, the steel rod suddenly pressing against my ass the only thing I can focus on.
He’s hard.
Lincoln Storm is in my bed, snuggled up with me, and he’s hard.
So much for relaxing.
“I know,” he rasps. “Trust me, I know.”
Desire shoots through me, and before I know it, I’m rubbing my thighs together again.
His warm breath races down my neck.
“Unless you want me to do something about it, I suggest you stop wiggling your ass like that, babe.”
50
LINCOLN
