Page 96 of Playing the Pucking Game
Nah, he’ll be here. I’m not that fucking lucky.
There’s a rumble of an engine outside and I panic, thinking our time together is over.
I shoot up from the couch, but a shot of pain goes up my leg as I press my foot to the floor.
I cry out in pain before crashing back down, clutching my leg.
“Linc, what’s wrong?” Parker asks in a rush, her attention turning back to me.
“Crap,” I force out, my leg continuing to spasm.
“Shit. It’s okay. I’ve got you. Can you stretch it out for me?”
When I open my eyes, she’s on her knees before me, her hands wrapping around my lower leg and gently pulling it from my hold.
“That’s it. Rest it there,” she says softly, placing my heel on the coffee table before me.
Then…then she does something so fucking magical, I feel something tumble in my chest.
She presses her thumbs into my calf, and instantly, I feel relief.
“Okay?” she asks as she continues massaging my muscles.
“Fuck,” I gasp as warmth rushes up my leg, spilling through my entire body.
Sure, Parker has touched me before. But never, ever like this.
Holy shit.
I relax into the sensation, enjoying it far too much considering she’s about to spend the night with someone else.
As she slides her hands up toward my knee, the fire inside me only burns hotter, and I can’t stop my dick from reacting.
It hardens beneath the fabric of my sweats.
Shit. She needs to stop.
She needs?—
There’s a blare of a horn outside and it bursts my bubble, sending me crashing back to Earth with a bang.
My head falls back against the couch, and my eyes close while my hands rest in my lap. I pray that they cover the evidence of what her touch did to me.
One moment her warm hands are there, and the next, they’re gone. The air that rushes over my skin is like ice, cooling my blood and reminding me of everything I shouldn’t be doing, like being here right now.
Dragging my eyes open, I find her on her feet and checking herself in the mirror.
“It’s him. Are you sure I look okay?” she asks before spinning toward me, holding her hands out from her sides so I can take her all in.
“Y-yeah, you look?—”
The doorbell rings, cutting off my words, and she rushes past me to answer it.
She pauses with her fingers on the door handle.
“Are you okay? Is your leg…”
“Yeah. I don’t know what you did, but it helped. A lot.”
