Page 79 of Power Play

“Yup. Sounds good.”

I have no clue what I’m agreeing to. I’m too distracted by the sway of Piper’s hips. The plunging neckline of her dress and the necklace resting between her cleavage. Heels that give her added height and the bright red lipstick painted on her mouth.

I want to smear it with my thumb.

I want it on my cock, a souvenir from fucking her throat and making her swallow.

My fingers grip my glass so tightly, I don’t know how it doesn’t shatter.

The whole outfit is sinful.

Goddamn indecent, honestly, and knowing what’s underneath those thin straps and silky material is a hazard to my health.

Every man in the room watches her as she moves toward me like some sort of goddess. Even my teammates do a double take. I want to break Grant’s neck for how long he stares at her, but I’m no better.

“Hey,” she says when she gets close, and I wish she had stayed away.

I wish I hadn’t spotted her, because now that I have, I smell her perfume. I see the dark blue makeup on her eyelids. I feel the heat radiating from her, and I don’t fucking know why I want to curl up beside her in my bed and keep her there.

My crush on her has only gotten worse now that I know what she sounds like when she comes. The moans she lets out when I touch her clit and the way her toes curl when I pinch her nipples nice and hard.

Piper Mitchell is under my skin, and the next time I touch her, I won’t be so nice.

“Pipsqueak,” I say, clawing for any sort of normalcy.

“How’s your night?”

“How do you think it is?”

She tilts her head to the side and assesses me. “Miserable, by the looks of it. Could you just—” Her fingers touch the edge of my mouth, lifting it up in a fake smile, and she grins. “There we go. Much better.”

“Don’t make me look too approachable. I can’t stand another thirty-minute lecture from a guy who played in a beer league twenty years ago and thinks he’s qualified to give out unsolicited advice about my technique.”

“Come on, Liam. Surely you know his years playing Sunday rec games far outweigh your experience in the NHL. You should definitely listen to him.”

I snort. “I’d rather listen to the pointers Grant tries to give me. At least he knows the rules about high-sticking.”

“I almost feel bad for the person who bids on Grant at the auction and wins. They’re going to have to deal with his restless energy for hours.”

“Don’t remind me about the auction.”

“Oh, no. Have you had a bad experience? I think the whole idea is ridiculous, to be honest. If we were doing this with women, people would be outraged. But with hot guys who play hockey, it’s okay? Talk about a double standard.”

“Wow.” My lips twitch. “You think I’m hot?”

“How is that the only thing you heard out of that whole speech?” She puts her hands on her hips, and I wonder if she’s wearing underwear. There’s no way she could be with how tight her dress is on her skin. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Course I am. You’re talking about hockey, right?”

“You’re not funny.”

“Then why are you smiling?”

Piper huffs and leans against the bar next to me. “I’m not smiling.”

“Kind of looks like you are.”

“Seems like my pink blazer did more damage to your eyes than I thought. Why don’t the guys bid on each other? Seems like the logical way to make sure no one ends up with a creep.”

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