Page 22 of For Pucking Keeps

“Jaz is in more than capable hands, make no mistake about that,” he says as he waits for me to place my hand in his. I don’t hear what Lia says after our hands connect, our fingers intertwine, and the universe aligns. My hand was made to fit with his, the revelation should cause alarm, but it doesn’t. Nothing about meeting this man has ever given me pause. This is right.

“Come on, Supernova. You and I have a lot to discuss.”

He leads me down the hall and out into the night air, away from the waiting fans and paparazzi. I let all the noise fade into nothing as my sister’s words resound in my head, over and over. I deserve something extraordinary, and I think I found it in Tor.

FOURTEEN

TOR

Ask me to recall our conversation during the car ride to my penthouse, and for the life of me I can’t. I’m sure I answered Jaz’s enthusiastic questions about the location of my place. I kept everything very casual, not wanting to venture too deep until we were behind closed doors. The entire drive I thought about what I wanted from her. I went over my plan all day, trying to block out coach Lennox’s warnings and my own warring thoughts until I came to my final conclusion.

I want us.

Plain and simple. I can help her with her book, but I don’t want it to be the only reason to see her. I want to make that clear. I want to make a lot of things clear. She is mine. I’m not going to hold back. Oh yes, what I can remember, see even my thoughts had thoughts. What Ican recollect is the pounding of my heart in my ears, the sound of my breathing, Jaz’s soft hums to Destin Conrad’sSame Mistake, playing on the radio. The rightness of her hand in mine, the connection between us, the highlight of my night. Not even our winning streak compares, well, maybe me publicly claiming her in front of the world and an audience full of fans may be a close second. All the sensory details of our journey will be etched in my memories forever. Every moment I’ve spent in this woman’s presence has been monumental.

I haven’t let her hand go other than to usher her in my SUV. As soon as I climbed into the driver’s seat, my hand sought out hers, and she didn’t hesitate to take it. I’m still holding it as we pass through the large front atrium of my building. The cream and silver marble floor gleams underneath the vaulted ceiling. Large windows line the front façade of the building, giving a partial eye-level view of Elliot Bay and beyond. Jaz remains quiet beside me, taking it all in, making her own observations of this place, I’m sure.

“Good game, Mr. Bailey,” Lucas calls out from behind his security desk. We come to a stop in front of the desk, five monitors line the inner console with a central keyboard, Lucas has eyes everywhere. It’s the reason why I bought this penthouse, it doesn’t hurt that the man protecting this place is ex-special ops either. He keeps the press and paparazzi at bay, and it’s why I feel comfortable enough to bring Jaz here tonight. After the win we had tonight, everyone will be out wanting to catch a glimpse of the team, little do they know I encouraged my teammates to go home on nights when we have to travel the next day. Hopefully no one does anything ridiculous.

Lucas comes around the desk and extends his hand to Jaz. He smiles warmly as she returns the gesture. I bite back a grumble when he places his hand over hers, instead of giving her a generic handshake. His smile widens as I shift from foot to foot; he knows he is getting to me with this unnecessary show of affection. “You must be Miss Starr. I’ve heard a lot about you. Welcome to Pike Tower.”

Jaz looks up at me in surprise, eyes wide, lips pursed in disbelief. Then returns her gaze back to Lucas. “Really, and what exactly has Mr. Bailey told you?”

“Only good things, I assure you. It is not like him to bring anyone?—”

I cough, cutting Lucas off before he goes straight into my life story before I’m given a chance to open up myself. “I just made Lucas aware that you will be around sometimes and added you to my guest list.”

Lucas looks genuinely confused but I can see his hidden amusement as he smirks in my direction, “Sir, you don’t have a guest list.” He winks. This man. If he wasn’t so good at his job and his wife didn’t cook her ass off, there might be an unmarked grave in his near future. Okay, maybe that’s taking my reaction to my embarrassment a little too far. I give Jaz a little tug, not willing to stay here any longer than we need to. I don’t need Lucas and his intentional loose lips giving more away.

“Night, Lucas,” I say abruptly, pulling Jaz along behind me.

“It was nice to meet you too, Lucas.” Jaz offers a quick wave before we round the corner, stopping in front of a series of elevators. She doesn’t comment on our speedy exit as I punch in a four-digit code to my private elevator, situated at the end of the alcove. I’ll have to remember to give her the code later. To say I have an agenda tonight is an understatement.

Once inside, the elevator climbs to the top floor. Jaz squeezes my hand, her grip firm and sure, the press of her palm to mine, a silent reassurance that she too is waiting for this time alone as much as I am. The tension between us is as live as an active volcano, the pressure is building, until it will finally spew over, rolling slowly like molten lava eating away at the ground beneath it. I wouldn’t say it’s destructive, but I don’t call her Supernova for nothing. The crazy slow burn is maddening; the anticipation, the best foreplay I never thought I needed until now. Until her. If she made me wait, I would gladly keep burning, waiting patiently for her to ignite and catch the flames of desire as fervently as I have. I can’t describe it, all I can do is feel. I glance down into Jaz’s eyes, a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors, and I fall even further, captivated, forever under her spell. I want to open up and tell her how I feel. In a short amount of time I’m completely enraptured. She might not feel the same, in fact, she might run for her life after tonight. But I’m no longer worried about waiting. I open my mouth to confess, but the opening of the elevator doors has my lips slamming shut.

Jaz releases my hand. The absence of her touch has me wanting to reach out and snatch it back. She steps into the small foyer pausing to take in the massive expanse of the ground floor of my open plan penthouse. I hold back as she steps down into the living room, but she walks straight past it all. A modern clean design, with its free-standing fireplace that takes up the center of the space. She ignores the plush U-shape navy blue couch surrounding it, with a massive flat screen television mounted from the ceiling that gives the illusion of it floating mid-air. No, her feet carry her past the gleaming black and white kitchen, to the floor to ceiling windows that wrap around the penthouse on three sides. Another thing we have in common, just like the second floor of her home that I’ve yet to see. It seems Jaz and I both enjoy a spectacular view. Elliot Bay spreads wide in front of us, with Pike Place Market and the Seattle waterfront so close, it feels as if you could reach out and grab it. The shadowy silhouette of the Olympic Mountains in the distance.

Jaz whistles, her hands both splayed wide against the window. I chuckle as she presses her face into the glass and gasps in awe. “This is something, Mr. Bailey. Now this is a view to wake up to,” she whispers, and I can’t keep my feet from taking me closer to her as I eat up the space between us. I watch her watching me through the reflection of the glass as I stop mere inches away. We both freeze. Suddenly, my words fail me. Shoving my hands into my pockets anxiously, I realize I’m a bumbling mess as I spout facts about the penthouse, like I’m a realtor trying to sell the place. The confidence I wear as a second skin on the ice, around my teammates, and every other aspect of my life eludes me. Standing so close, her head tilts up at me, her lips spread wide in a contented smile, she listens to me talk. I’m acutely aware that my truth, my feelings for her, may be too much, too fast, too soon. My bravado seeps out of me with every nervous intake of breath.

“There’s a second floor, with three bedrooms and bathrooms, my gym, office, etc. Oh yeah, there’s a restroom down here, if you need it. Are you hungry? It’s not too late for food, I can order us?—”

“Tor.” The sound of my name, the soft alto of her voiceslides over me like a warm soothing blanket. I close my eyes, savoring the comfort. Does she sense my spiraling thoughts, my churning nerves? Does she realize she grounds me just by saying my name?

“Alexis.” Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open at the sound of her real name. To call her anything but who she really is right now feels wrong.

She shakes her head slowly in understanding, as if she is grasping the gravity of the situation brewing between us. She turns her gaze back up to me, smile slowly fading. “You know, when you didn’t take me home, I went with it.” She shrugs, then lifts her hand, tapping one finger against her lips as she begins to pace in front of the window. The shift in the mood throws me but I don’t interrupt, too intrigued to see where this may lead. “So, I thought, he’s taking me to his place, but why?” She snaps her fingers, a true Sherlock Holmes moment if I’ve ever seen one. Fucking adorable. “Then I thought, he is going to hold me hostage in his high-rise penthouse, and I will develop Stockholm syndrome and fall deeply, madly in love with him.”

My mouth opens in protest, but she holds up a finger and stops me.

“Or is he going to tie me to his bed, strip me naked, fuck me, claim me, giving me no choice in the matter.” She turns lost in thought and it’s my turn to stand there in shock.

“What in the hell? Your mind woman?—”

“I’m not okay with non-con tropes. Dub-con, maybe, it depends, but damn the triggers of this entire situation can be endless.” She pauses and I try to keep my face neutral and not let my horror show on my face. My mouth is opening and closing, at a complete loss of the English language, my hands are folding and unfolding over my chest. I’m clearly uncomfortable, but not in the way I think she thinks. Her playful suggestions hold some merit, but I won’t let my darkness show, I’m not that man, but hell, slippery slopes. Then she laughs, not a chuckle, but a bend over, slap your knee type laugh.

“Your face.” Jaz points, then wraps her arms around her stomach with gleeful tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Tor. I’m trying to lighten the mood. A little dark romance humor. You seem so anxious. I wanted to shake you, but. . .” She takes a deep breath, then straightens.

“But.” I slip my suit jacket off and let it fall to the floor. In two strides I have her pinned against the windows.

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