Page 220 of Playing the Pucking Game
Glancing over my shoulder, I watch as he accepts the praise like the showman I know him to be, bowing to the crowd.
Rolling my eyes, I throw a couple of towels in the laundry before reaching for the antibacterial spray to wipe down my table.
The excitement in the room continues as I work, but everything falls away when the warmth of a body—his body—presses in behind me.
“What? No congratulations?”
“Linc,” I warn.
“Ah, I get it. You’re waiting until later.”
“Are you getting on the table or not?” I snap, unwilling to play this game with him.
“Oh yeah, I need your hands all over me tonight.”
A rush of air whips past me as he pulls his T-shirt from his body.
“Shoulders first, then my legs. My hammies and quads are really giving me some grief.”
I grit my teeth.
This is your job, Parker.
You are a professional.
Give him what he needs and then send him on his way.
My little pep talk works while Linc has his back to me. I work on his shoulders and then move down to his back. The room is still buzzing with life, but slowly, everyone begins to filter out. Jarad disappears, and Mitchell excuses himself to the office, which surprises me. I thought he’d stay and watch to see if he could get any dirt to use against me.
And the second Linc flips over so I can get to his quads, everything changes.
56
LINCOLN
I’m as hard as a fucking rock. And there is no way in hell I’m able to hide it.
Not that I want to hide from Parker.
It’s just that we’re in the visiting team’s training room in the Blackhawks’ arena, and anyone could walk in at any moment and discover me pitching a tent in my athletic shorts.
So much for keeping it professional.
Fucking kill me now.
I close my eyes as Parker runs her fingers up my right thigh. A groan rumbles deep in my chest as pain shoots up my leg, but it does very little to relieve my situation. If anything, it makes it worse.
The only thing that’s making this bearable is that I don’t think she’s noticed.
How that’s possible, I’m not fucking sure. But her movements and focus haven’t faltered, and surely, surely, they would if she knew I was achingly hard for her.
Honestly, I’m not struggling that much. My tight muscles aren’t anything that an ice pack couldn’t solve, but the temptation to be closer to her was too much.
“Ah, shit. Right there,” I gasp, and she digs her thumb in a little more. “Fuck, Parker.”
The second the groan is out of my mouth, I panic.
I sense her attention on me, and my temperature spikes a couple more degrees, but when I open my eyes to look at her, her gaze isn’t locked on my face. It’s on my crotch.
