Page 100 of Snap Shot

Landon wrenches me upright, spinning us around to place me on the counter. He doesn't let go of the lush pressure against my throat until he uses the same hand to sweep across my cheekbone. “'Cause you're so precious to me.”

I melt into him.

“Can I keep calling you that?” He assaults my skin with those soft lips, dotting my shoulders, chest, and neck with tender kisses while he redresses and zips me back up.

“Yes,” I rasp out.

“Good, 'cause I don't wanna stop.”

My heart is in so much fucking trouble.

Chapter 27: Breathless and Horribly, Impossibly Hard

Landon

One month. Four weeks of brutal conditioning for speed, agility, strength, and stamina to train for the oncoming season. Indi and I apply those skills to the bedroom. And the living room. And the kitchen, too. We've christened every goddamn surface in our apartments.

It's not a competition, but if it was, we're tied. I thought I was addicted to Twinkies, but they're no match for Indi.

“…I already told Sky she can have whatever she wants,” Jaeg says, fading me out from my thoughts. “But she wants my opinion on everything.”

A deep, humid breath huffs from my chest as I stifle the boner uncomfortably lining my cup. It's a good cover.

“I love the little stink, but I couldn't care less about what flavor the cake is. It's fuckingcake.”

In tandem, we shift the weight between our legs, switching one skate for the other across the boards.

“Chocolate, vanilla, red velvet, I don't fucking know the difference. I don't remember what I ate for breakfast. It goes in, it goes out. And cake?” He trills through blubbery lips. “As long as it's sweet and soft, I'll shove it into my mouth like good fucking puss—”

“Oooooh, big stretch,” Wade interrupts with a loud groan, announcing his presence while doing the splits behind us. He bounces his hips while glancing over his shoulder, nose crinkling into an ornery smirk. “If this ice comes around in nine months asking if you know me, no, you don't.”

I grimace and give him a thumbs down.

“Booooo!” Gliding onto his back, Wade windmills his legs one after the other, like a stripper, while beatboxing a jazzy tune.

Jaeg rolls his eyes.

Dissatisfied with our non-response, Wade rises to his feet and skates behind the forwards on the other side of the rink. Picking up speed, he throws up his right hand and the opposite leg into the air as he passes.

“Give 'em the ol' razzle dazzle!”

“Idiot.” Jaeg scowls.

“What's up with him?”

Our tendy is a showman but it's rarely directed at Derrick. The poor dusters and second string usually bear the brunt of his shenanigans.

Jaeger grunts. “'Skylar's letting him MC the reception. He's excited to be involved. Prolly his way of apologizing for being a jackass the past few weeks.”

The next time Wade whizzes by, he switches to the left hand and right leg and waves his gloves with jazzy-handed pizzazz. “Razzle dazzle 'em!”

“Enough!” Jaeg bellows, using his stick to trip Wade. “We're good, okay?”

He embraces the fall, landing on his side onto the ice and striking a Jane Fonda exercise video cover pose, a hand supporting his helmeted head and one knee bent, splaying apart from his straightened leg.

“Now quit screwing around.”

Wade wobbles to his feet and hugs Derrick from behind, then skates away, calling for his paddle.

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