Page 56 of One Pucking Surprise
The dunk tank releases with a jolt, and I go under for the third time, the water now feeling less refreshing and more like revenge.
When I resurface, the operator waves me out, grinning. “Alright, folks! Let’s thank Captain Zach from the LA Knights for being such a good sport!”
As I climb out of the tank, dripping and shivering, the crowd cheers and begins to disperse toward the next attraction. Wyatt and Chloe gather Jasper, who’s still clutching his oversized panda, and head off in search of food.
“That was impressive,” Lainey says, handing me a towel with a smirk.
“Admit it,” I say, rubbing my hair dry. “You’ve never seen anyone handle a dunk tank with that much grace.”
Her eyes trail down my soaked T-shirt, lingering a second too long. “Sure,” she replies, her voice teasing. “Grace isn’t the word I’d use.”
“Checking me out?” I ask, stepping closer, water dripping onto the grass.
She doesn’t even blink, her grin widening. “Just evaluating the competition.”
I lean in, lowering my voice so only she can hear. “You’re not subtle, Lainey. I saw you looking.”
Before she can respond, a high-pitched voice cuts through the moment.
“Zach? Oh my gosh, is that you?”
I turn to see Clarissa, her perfectly styled hair gleaming in the sunlight and a saccharine smile plastered on her face.
“What a coincidence running into you here!” she gushes, stepping closer. Without asking, she grabs the towel from my hands and starts patting my chest dry. “You’re soaked! You should dry off before you catch a cold.”
“I’m fine, Clarissa,” I say, stepping back and taking the towel from her. “I can handle it.”
Her lips purse in what I’m sure is meant to be a pout, but before she can respond, Lainey steps forward.
“Here,” she says, holding out my dry clothes. “I grabbed these from your bag.”
“Thanks,” I say, flashing her a grateful smile.
Clarissa’s eyes flick between us, her expression faltering for the first time. “Well,” she says, her tone forced. “I’ll let you get changed, Zach. I’ll wait here for you here.”
“Will do,” I reply, already turning toward Lainey. “Let’s get out of here.”
Lainey doesn’t hesitate, her pace brisk as we put as much distance between us and Clarissa as possible.
“Ican’tbelievesheshowed up,” Lainey mutters as I unlock the door to my place.
“She’s persistent, I’ll give her that,” I say, stepping inside.
The moment the door closes, the atmosphere shifts. The playful tension from earlier crackles into something sharper, more electric.
Before I can even turn around, Lainey’s in my arms, her mouth crushed to mine. This is what I’ve been craving all day—her taste, her touch, the heat between us. I back her up against the door, my hands already reaching for the hem of her shirt.
“Fuck, I want you,” I growl against her lips, yanking her shirt over her head. She’s laughing, her fingers already working on the buttons of my shirt. I tug down her bra straps, kissing the valley between her breasts.
“Shower?” she breathes, her fingers sliding into my hair.
“God, yes.” I kiss her again, hard, then take her hand and lead her toward my bedroom.
The master bath is huge, done up in marble and glass—like the rest of the place, it’s a guy’s idea of luxury.
I turn to her, shedding my shirt and stepping out of my shorts. “Like what you see?”
A slow smile spreads across her face as she undoes her jeans. “Oh, I like,” she says, kicking off her shoes.
