Page 220 of Ruthless Kings of Havoc

He smirks and leans back to admire my face.

“You’re fogging up your own glasses,” he argues and plops a kiss on my nose. “Are you planning to wear a jersey, so your breasts aren’t looking extra delicious in that white tank?”

My pout intrigues him, as I sigh in defeat.

“I wanted to get a jersey with Matteo’s number, but they don’t have any. Said they’re still in production. Won’t be until later in the season after Christmas break,” I explain what the clerk informed me when I requested it. “Told me to buy Domino’s.” I cringe at the mere mention of it. “They’re seventy percent off.”

Ares stares at me for ten long seconds before he’s laughing as though I’ve said the funniest shit ever.

“They’re on sale for seventy percent off?” He shakes his head. “God, I have to find a way to get that in an article of some sort because this fucker always used to mock the players who phased out of our team due to graduation or age, and now he’s facing the perfect Karma being seventy percent off. Not even fifty. Fucking priceless.”

“Interesting,” I note while I fix a few strands of his hair, knowing once we leave, he’ll be back in the spotlight with all those crazy fan girls desperate to get a picture of him. I feel a flip in the depths of my stomach, the jealousy making me tilt my head while my eyes trail his neck.

“Zander will make a good mockery of this,” Ares continues while I lean in until my mouth latches onto his neck and sucks deliberately. “Hmmm, Cunning Canary. What are you doing?”

I don’t answer. Instead, I lightly nibble on his flesh, making him inhale deeper before that tiny rumble grows with intensity against his chest. There’s this need to mark him. For those bitches to all see that Ares is my King, too. The world sometimes seems to forget because he’s a celebrity in his own element. A model who portrays so many personalities and projections of himself, you get lost in those characters and think he’s free to lust over.

This is just a tiny reminder.

With a final bite, suck, and lick on the sensitive spot, I lean back to confirm the very obvious hickey that’s on the right side of his neck.

It tames the heated jealousy that was fighting for control, inviting a sense of calm.

“There,” I say with pride, watching the way Ares’ eyes light up.

“Did you just mark me, Cunning Canary?” He tilts his head as if to further emphasize the mark that’s further visible thanks to the rays of the dim light.

“N-No,” I suddenly feel embarrassed for letting my intrusive thoughts win, but I won’t dare admit I’m being territorial. “I-It’s for good luck,” I conclude.

“Sweet Canary,” he begins and has my bottom lip captured between his teeth, pulling it lightly while maintaining eyecontact. The intensity alone is making me horny all over again. “I’m not the one playing on the ice, remember?”

If that isn’t the icing on the cake, I realize he’s right.

My face can’t get redder as he quietly chuckles and smothers me with a fierce kiss.

“We need to go before Zander notices,” he concludes and pulls back so he can put his cock back into his boxers.

He helps to make sure I look even better than before by tucking the tank top into the skirt and bringing it down just slightly, so it sits properly on my hips, accentuating my curves.

I’m even more surprised when he helps me rebraid my hair. I decided to do a pigtail style because one of the charities today is encouraging the style in support of potentially donating hair to the cancer society.

I’d been thinking about it when I found out last night in the pamphlet, and the idea of cutting my hair for such a good cause is tempting. It would only take six months to grow it back to this length, which is a privilege.

May not be smart with winter being right there, but I can wear cute beanies or something.

As if these men would let me. They’ll tell me to throw some cute earmuffs, and they’ll warm me up by fucking me in the car.

I smirk at that.

“What are you thinking about?” Ares asks when he catches a glimpse of my smirk.

“You guys fucking me in the car during wintertime,” I offer and see his surprise at my bluntness. “I was thinking of cutting my hair for the charity.”

He looks at me for a long moment before staring at my hair.

“Is there a specific reason?”

“No,” I confess and shrug. “I mean, it’s been nagging me. I know it’s kind of random. I don’t need to do it if you don’t wantme to. I know my looks are vital right now with the spotlight on us all the time.”

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