Page 111 of Wicked Serve

Cooper’s mouth drops open. “Okay, next team movie night, we’re watching it. Miracle can wait; we watch that one every year anyway.”

I snort. Now Cooper knows how I feel about Nik and Legally Blonde.

“Miracle also has Russians,” says Micah, the freshman who sticks to Nik’s side like a burr. He’s holding hands with a pretty girl I vaguely recognize from the communications department.

“Technically Soviets,” Nik drawls. “Weird, though, it’s almost like Russians have reasons to be good at hockey.”

“Even though Canada invented it,” Jean says, his French-Canadian accent more pronounced from the alcohol he’s been knocking back. “As the only Canadian on the team, I will not let—”

“Can we get going with the toast?” Aaron interrupts. “I’d like to keep the good times rolling, if it’s cool with Iceman and Captain Callahan.”

“Captain Callahan?” I repeat, catching Aaron’s double meaning. “Oh my God. This is the greatest night of my life.”

My brother actually blushes. “It’s just my name, technically.”

“Okay, Captain America.”

He groans, slumping against the booth. “Iceman, give us this long, poetic Russian toast before we all lose it.”

After a toast that does sound pretty poetic to my untrained ears—not to mention sexy; I want to rub against Nik like a cat every time Russian comes out of his mouth—I knock back the shot. Victoria pulls me in the direction of the dance floor, and I let her, even though I can feel Nik following my movements. I’m buzzed enough to want nothing but his touch, yet not quite bold enough to start making out with him in front of everyone.

Before I can get into the song, however, he snags me around the waist. I squeak as he pulls me into his lap. I try to sit up, but he holds me tighter, arm draped over me possessively.

“I can’t take how goddamn stunning you are,” he whispers into my ear. “Everyone in this fucking bar knows that you’re mine.”

I bite back a moan at the feeling of his muscular thigh between my legs. He whispers again, this time in Russian, and I don’t have to be fluent to realize he just said something filthy. His hand slips underneath the jersey, playing with the waistband of my leggings. I glance around, but no one is paying us any attention. Cooper and Penny are wrapped up in each other, Evan is dancing with Xander, and a bunch of the single guys are shooting their shots with a group of women the next booth over.

I whimper as his thumb works underneath the waistband, swiping across the soft part of my belly. Not low enough to be indecent, but we’re in a bar full of people, and his hand is close enough to my pussy, my core clenches. I twist around, cradling his jaw in my hands. Our teeth gnash together as we kiss. He groans, the sound slicing through me like the shot of vodka.

I break away slowly. Deliberately.

If we were alone, he’d sweep the glasses off the table and lay me over the sticky top. His chest would heave as he yanked down my leggings, then cupped my pussy, fingers digging into my slick folds. He’d pour vodka on my tits, my tattoo, and lick it all clean before nosing between my legs.

I whimper; I’m getting soaked at the fantasy. I rock on his leg, even though it’s not nearly enough. His eyes flicker, pupils blown wide. His mouth shines with the gloss from my lips, but I pretend it’s from my slick. The alcohol hasn’t done much to him, he’s only had two shots, but he’s still drunk on something.

On me.

“Take me home,” I breathe.

Chapter 53

Izzy

Nik manages—barely—to keep his hands off me during the walk back to the house, but the moment we’re inside, he presses me against the door. It shuts with a definitive click as he kisses me. I moan at the delicious sensation of his solid body pinning me in place.

He hefts me into his arms, walking us both up the stairs. My stomach swoops low at the casual display of strength. When we reach my room, he tosses me onto the bed, then throws himself onto it beside me. We laugh as we bounce on the mattress. I kick off my boots and roll on top of him.

“Hopefully Cooper and Penny stay at the bar.”

“Something tells me they’ll be a while,” he replies, hands curving over my bottom. I flush, remembering the way he spanked me with my hairbrush on Valentine’s Day. I couldn’t get enough of him that night. After dinner, we went upstairs, and he worked a plug in and out of my ass while he fucked me.

He must be thinking about it as well, because he smacks me lightly, over the leggings.

I whine into his mouth. “Nik.”

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs.

I do as he says, shivering as he pulls down my leggings and panties. Instead of touching my pussy, though, he keeps playing with my ass, massaging it, pinching it. I grind against his crotch, whimpering as my sensitive skin drags against the fabric of his jeans. His cock, already getting stiff, strains in the confines.

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