Page 66 of Pucking Revenge

I was pissed. But they’re right. Somehow looking up and seeing Sara wearing my jersey, screaming her head off, eased that anger. Made me smile. The girl is nuts. Certifiable. And if she asked me to, I’d join her in a straitjacket. I’m fucking obsessed.

I arch a brow at her now. She’s standing off to the side, overseeing as usual. When she doesn’t direct me to stay quiet, I look back to the reporter and go with the truth. “What can I say? I’m crazy about her.”

“Could you give us her name? How long have you been dating? Is it serious?” The questions hit me one after another, each from a different reporter around the room.

Naturally, that’s when Coach steps in front of me. “No more questions. We’ll see you in Denver.”

Sara worries her lip and tilts her face down.

He kept her a secret. Hidden from the light.

Fuck it.

I make a beeline for her. I don’t have to answer the question to show the world exactly who she is and how proud I am that she’s mine.

Her eyes are wide as I approach, that lip still caught between her teeth, but there’s a hint of a smile on her face and a pleased blush creeping up her neck. I pull her against my chest and cup her neck with both hands, caressing the underside of her jaw with my thumbs. And then I dip down and press my lips against hers.

Sara makes a surprised little yelp, and my dick jumps. She doesn’t pull away, thank fuck, and when I deepen the kiss, she sighs into my mouth and melts against me.

I didn’t mean for our first kiss to happen in front of a room full of reporters and while we’re both technically working, but I couldn’t wait a second longer.

I slip my tongue between her lips and tease hers, and that’s all it takes. She smiles against my mouth, and then she’s kissing me back. Her soft lips, the taste of her, sugary sweet just as I knew she’d be, make this the best kiss of my life. Not that I’m surprised. Sara’s the best thing to ever happen to me. A year ago, my days were nothing but gray skies and ice and hockey pucks. Dull and monochromatic. But with her crazy one-liners, her taste in music, the truly insane things that happen to her and the way she reacts, and her damn smile, she’s brought a rainbow of color to my life.

When she pulls back, I follow, pressing kiss after drugging kiss against her mouth. Sweet little nips at her lips because I truly can’t get enough.

She giggles and pushes against my chest, her blue eyes shining with wonder. “Everyone is staring.”

“Good. Then they know you’re mine. Come on, crazy girl. Let’s get out of here before I get carried away and give them a completely different kind of show.”

I tuck her beneath my arm and guide her out of the pressroom, head held high.

When we pass Gavin, he pats me on the shoulder. “Great game tonight.”

“Thanks.” I turn my attention back to Sara. “We going out?” It’s the last thing I want to do, but since Lennox is in town, Sara will want to hang out with her.

She blinks up at me, lips swollen and parted. I should kiss her more often. “Um,” she finally says, like she’s finding her voice again. “Lennox left after Jill made a scene. So that’s up to you.”

“Do you want to go out?”

She nibbles on her lip and shakes her head. “No. Not really.”

I jostle her gently, forcing her even closer to me. “What do you want to do?”

“I think I might want to kiss you again,” she breathes out. She tips her head back and studies me, an adorable crease between her brows like she’s surprised by her admission.

My cheeks burn in response. I’m just as surprised, and my damn heart is tripping over itself. So I push her up against the wall in the hallway outside the pressroom. It’s loud out here. Voices echo off the cinderblock walls as reporters mill about, hoping for a player to go rogue and give a statement.

I’ll do them one better.

My girl can’t tell me she wants a kiss and not get one. Anything she wants is hers for the taking.

“Just one more.” I dip down again, brushing my lips against hers. It’s quick and so gentle it can barely be considered a kiss. But I have a lifetime of practice when it comes to restraint, so I release her and fist my hands at my sides to keep myself from touching her. If I don’t back away now, then I don’t know that I can stop the freight train of desire barreling through me.

Standing with her in public like this is addicting. Knowing others are watching when I kiss her only spurs me on. Shit. Just the thought of taking it further, touching her in other ways regardless of who’s around, is far too appealing.

With one deep breath, I rein in my errant thoughts and rest my forehead against hers with a sigh, willing my heart to settle. When I pull back and take her in, her eyes are glassy and her breaths are coming heavy.

“Let’s get you home, Pumpkin.”

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