Page 264 of Playing the Pucking Game
“What about my car?” she asks as I beeline for my Porsche.
“We really need to start riding in together.”
“You get here before sunrise,” she squeaks.
“Maybe you should give me a reason to stay in bed a little longer.”
She shakes her head.
“I’ll call us a rideshare in the morning, then we can bring yours home tomorrow night.”
To my surprise, she doesn’t argue and instead happily climbs into my car.
“You killed it out there tonight,” I tell her once we’re on our way.
She scoffs. “Oh, hardly. I was like a little kid scrambling after you all. I’m way too out of practice to be playing with you guys. I can barely keep up with Sutton, and that’s on a good day.”
“Trust me, you looked like you were coping just fine.”
I don’t need to look over to know that she’s rolling her eyes.
“You were just too distracted to notice.”
“Mmm…you on the ice in full uniform and wearing a jersey with my number on. Yeah, I was a little distracted.”
“Don’t forget about your center-ice fantasy.”
“Almost as hot as your dressing room one.”
‘That’s not…I don’t…”
I laugh when she fails to finish each sentence she tries.
“Oh, you so do. Don’t worry, babe. One day, we’ll knock it off your bucket list.”
Twisting my fingers with hers, I lift her hand so I can kiss her knuckles. It’s the bare minimum of what I really want to do to her, but it’s all I can get right now.
I press my foot harder to the gas to get us home a little faster.
I need her naked and wrapped around me about as much as I need my next breath.
The short journey seems to take forever. We have little choice but to stop at every stoplight, and for some reason, the traffic is worse than normal at this time of night. I can’t help but think that the universe is fucking with me.
By the time we pull into my underground garage, my knee is bouncing with adrenaline that rivals the minutes before stepping out on the ice before a game.
The second I pull to a stop, I kill the engine and all but jump from the car.
Parker is still gathering her things when I open her door and drag her out.
“Jesus, what’s the rush?” she asks.
I don’t say anything. I can’t. My mind is on one thing, and one thing only.
“Linc, what the hell is going—” Her back hits the back wall of the elevator, and I surround her.
“Can’t wait any longer,” I groan before my lips are on hers.
It takes her a couple of seconds to catch up, but the second she does, she melts into me.
