Page 36 of Home Game

He’d wanted to do something against his own wishes, purely for me? That didn’t sound like the Storm Rosling I knew. But I wasn’t going to complain.

His grey-blue eyes were on me, peering straight through to my soul, as they had the tendency to do.

“God, how do you do that?” I asked, barely aware I was saying it out loud.

“Hmm?”

I cleared my throat.

“Your eyes,” I said. “It’s not fair. They make you seem like a nice guy, when in reality you probably want to toss a dozen eggs on my Porsche, or something.”

He smiled and it only made the skin around his eyes crinkle up even more, hypnotizing me against my will.

“That sounds really fun,” he murmured, “and I do fucking hate Porsches. But I wouldn’t do it to yours. Glad you like my eyes, though. Thanks, Fancy Pants.”

“I never said I liked them. I just said they make you seem nice.”

“So you don’t like them? They don’t have you under myspell?”

“Ugh. Fuck you,” I said, giving him a little shove as a deeply satisfied expression came over his face. He loved it when I told him off.

Even the small amount of touch when I shoved him made me crave more. My own body betraying me again around Storm, wanting things that I wished it didn’t.

“You’re fun when you’re pissed off,” he told me.

“I don’t remember when I approved of you calling meFancy Pants,either,” I said. “Why are you still over here with me? What do you want?”

“I want to talk about when we kissed.”

I nearly choked on my sip of beer. I stole a glance toward the Fixer Brothers over at their table.

“Jesus, Storm.”

“What?” he asked, a twinkle in his eyes. “I don’t give a fuck who knows.Hey, guys!” he called over to their table, and for a split second I was so mortified I hoped the Earth might open up and swallow me whole.

“Don’t—” I tried to say, reaching out to grip Storm’s arm.

“I kissed a guy once,” Storm shouted over toward them, “when I was drunk.”

My heart was suddenly beating twice as fast. I gripped Storm’s arm harder, and he didn’t try to stop me.

“Nice, man,” Shawn yelled back. The rest of the guys at the table were totally unfazed, nibbling at a plate of nachos and sipping their drinks. “Did he taste like Cherry Chapstick?”

Storm laughed. “No. He tasted like good whiskey, actually. I kind of liked it.”

My cock stirred. He’d liked how I tasted that night?

“I hate you,” I muttered under my breath.

“You’re the best, Storm,” Shawn said, already turning back toward his table and waving Storm off. “Don’t give Emmett too much of a hard time over there.”

Storm gave them a little salute. “No problem, boys.” He turned back to me, his mischievous smile on his face. “See? It’s fine. You’re adorable when you’re embarrassed, by the way.”

I released my grip on his arm, pulling back and scrubbing a palm over my face. “I cannot handle you.”

“I think you can,” he said in a velvety voice that was too appealing right now. He was looking at me—reallylooking at me, and in moments like these, I was reminded that I was standing across from a true superstar.

All of his attention was focused on me. Like somewhere in the stormy blue of his eyes, I could tell that he loved making me squirm. Why was I enjoying it, too? My cock had already perked up and the last thing I needed was to addcompletely fucking turned onto the mix of emotions running through me.

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