Page 75 of Iced Out

I make a buzzing sound with my lips. “Ah, see. You should know by now, slut shaming doesn’t work on me, baby. I embrace who I am, flaws and all.”

I expect him to come back with a witty retort, but the way his eyes grow wary and distant after I stop speaking tells me I said something wrong. It only takes me a second to realize what it was.

Baby.

I’ve called him that before, whether it be as a taunt or in bed. But never in place of his name. Never as…an endearment.

“I—”

“It’s fine,” he says, his head rolling from side to side against the mattress. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

Except, that’s where he’s wrong. I think…I did mean it. But instead of letting the anxiety of this revelation get to me, I play it off with a smirk on my face and change the subject.

“So tell me. Are you gonnafinallytry a new pair of socks tomorrow?”

A funny look crosses his face. A mixture of humor and confusion, I think. “I hadn’t really thought about it yet. I kind of just pick a pair each day. Whatever I’m feeling.”

Lame.

“What do you meanfinally?” he asks a moment later.

“Because I’ve been checking to see if you’ve worn them yet, and you haven’t.” Obviously. It’s not like I sneak into his room and go through his dirty laundry.

“You’ve been checking,” he repeats.

“Hell yeah,” I tell him, a grin on my face. “I try to check before every game while you’re getting dressed. Gotta make sure you’re still as dedicated to the cause as I am, Cappy.”

“I hate when you call me that,” he grumbles, rolling his head away from me to face the wall.

“Why? Chris Evans is hot as fuck.”

A deeper, richer kind of laugh comes from him. “You’re unbelievable.” But then he pauses, turning back with a seriousness taking over as his eyes narrow in on me. Suspicion radiates off him, and for a second, I worry I did or said something wrong. “You watch me get dressed?”

My lips quirk, and I lean in closer, my mouth inches from his. “No. I watch you getundressed.”

He grins some more and mutters, “Wow. What a creep.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you should just be flattered that you’re the one guy on the team who caught my eye.”

The arch of his brow tells me he begs to differ. “Flattered, huh? That’s what we’re going with?”

“Absolutely. Takes more than a hot piece of ass to get my attention.”

He tries to fight a smile—covering his face with his forearm and everything—but fails. Miserably. At first, I think he’s trying to hide embarrassment. That’s when the laughter starts, and I yank his arm back down.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“I’m sorry,” he says between chuckles. “But you’re kidding, right? You’re the guy on the team who no one would let date their daughter. Straight up fuck-boy. And now you’re trying to tell me it takes more than a hot piece of ass to get your attention?”

I roll on top of him, boxing him in against the mattress with my entire body. My fingers lace with his before pinning them above his head, and I can tell the position I’ve got him in is setting him on edge. There’s fire burning in his eyes while he looks up at me.

“Well, then, I guess I misspoke,” I murmur, leaning in and brushing my lips along his jaw. “It takes more than a hot piece of ass tokeepmy attention.”

It’s his turn to roll us so he’s the one pinning me to the mattress, slowly fucking into me with every grind of his hips. One quick move, and I’m primed and ready to go to whatever filthy place he wants to take me next.

“But don’t get me wrong, you’re still so fucking hot,” I murmur, reaching around to squeeze his ass. “Never in my life did I imagine telling you something like that, but there it is. Don’t let it go to your head.”

“I think you’re talking about yourself there. I know how to keep my ego in check. Unlike someone I know, who’s gotten all cocky ever since he tasted dick the first time.”

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