Page 110 of Twisted Shot
She spots him leaning against the passenger door of his matte-black Audi and grins.
“You’re ridiculous,” she calls out, dragging herbag faster now.
He smirks, pushing off the car to meet her halfway. “My girl doesn’t Uber.”
“I wanted to Uber because I figured you’d be in practice or hiding in your bat cave.” She gestures to the sleek car. “I feel like I just stepped into a mafia movie. Where’s my champagne and threats of violence?”
He lifts an eyebrow, mouth twitching. “You—you want violence?”
“Only if you’re the one delivering it.”
Her voice is light, teasing, but Theo’s fingers itch where they clasp her waist. Goddamn, he missed her. He missed her touches and her breathless giggles, the way she'd rib him without mercy. He missed the sound of her voice washing over him, the way her laughter could unravel every knot in his chest just by existing. He needs her under him, sprawled across his mattress, her lips swollen from his kisses, his signature written all over her in teeth and fingertips.
He wants to drag her cries out until she’s hoarse, until she forgets her own name and can only whimper his. Wants to fuck the breath from her lungs while she claws at his back and sobs broken little pleads for more.
He wants her bent over the kitchen counter, dress rucked up, begging as he grips her hair and drives into her hard enough to make the glasses rattle in the cupboards.
He steps closer, pressing in with his full body, his breath hot against her cheek. He needs to restrain himself from taking her right here, bent over the hood of his car.
“Oh, Daisy,” he murmurs, voice thick and low, “be careful what you wish for.”
Mila holds his gaze like she’s daring him to break her in half. Her lips curl into something wicked as she leans in close, lips brushing the shell of his ear.
“Let’s go.”
The moment they’re back at the house, she’s his. No holding back.
The car ride is only twenty minutes, but every red light feels like an eternity. Mila kicks off her shoes, tucks her feet up in the seat like she owns the space, and asks him about his roadtrip.
She laughs, full and unfiltered, at his story about Carter’s latestantics on the team bus. This time the victim had been JP, the rookie still so green he asked permission to use the bathroom. Carter had swapped JP’s protein shake with one spiked full of hot sauce—three enthusiastic chugs before JP realized his throat was on fire. The entire bus was howling while JP made sounds like a dying walrus until Jake finally threw him a mercy ice water.
She fills him in on her meeting with Jaryd and the praise she received when she ran the Whaler’s meeting. Theo’s so proud of her for standing up for herself he could burst. He never doubted her. He just didn’t trust Richard.
They pull into the driveway and step over the threshold into the quiet hum of his home. Her bag thumps to the floor, and he’s already turning to her, reaching?—
“Mila?”
Theo freezes.
No. No. No.
“Holy shit, Mila!”
Jesse’s voice is unmistakable—gravel and sunshine and the energy of a man who’s been called up to the NHL and scored twice in six games.
Mila lights up. “Jesse! Oh my god—you’re here?”
She’s already rounding the corner, launching into a hug, and Theo’s left standing in the entryway with a full-blown hard-on and murder in his eyes.
Jesse beams at them both, cheeks pink, damp hair curling at his temples. He’s in sweats and socks and holding a protein shake like he lives here again. Which, apparently, he does.
“Surprise,” Jesse grins. “Got sent back down for a few days between call-ups. You know. Rest, rehab, recovery.”
Theo wants to recover her—wants Mila back in his arms, out of her clothes, tangled in his sheets.
Instead, Jesse claps him on the back like they’re on the same team as they make their way to the living room. “About time you two got your shit together,” he says, grinning. “Jesus. I was starting to think I’d have to lock you both in a supply closet.”
Theo’s jaw ticks. He doesn’t bother answering. There’s still heat coiled low in his spine from Mila’s mouth, her breath, her bodypressed against his half an hour ago. Now Jesse’s dropped into the middle of it like a brick through glass, all loud cheer and zero self-awareness.
