Page 72 of Captain's Claim

The sway of her hips draw more than a few appreciative glances from my teammates that I quickly shut down with a sharp glare.

She slides into her seat, still looking around like the luxury might slap her across the face if she stares too long. The headrest has a small embroidered Icehawks logo, and a thick blanket is folded neatly on each seat. She runs her fingers over it like she’s half-impressed, half-annoyed at how unreasonably comfortable everything looks.

But then, her eyes catch on the menu.

Her name is printed right at the top in elegant script, beneath the Icehawks logo.

"It's your menu," I tell her, answering the question on those luscious lips before she can form it.

"A personalized menu?" She cocks a brow, lifting the menu and flipping through it. "Oh my god. Do you guys seriously have meals named after you?"

I lean back, stretching my legs out. "Would you prefer we number them likeMr. Chen'son Main Street?"

"Please tell me you have a dish named after you…"

I take my own menu from the pocket, flipping through it as if I haven't already memorized it after years of traveling.

I flip to page three, tapping my finger against the glossy paper. "Here. Blake's Steakhouse Special. Best burger you'll get ten-thousand feet up in the air."

She lets out a soft gasp of mock horror. “You named asteakafter yourself?”

I grin. “Not my choice. The guys voted.”

Sophia purses her lips, still looking at the menu like she can’t believe what she’s seeing. "I bet it's just a really big steak, isn't it?"

I lift a brow. “Jealous?”

Her scoff is instant. “No.” She flips a page dramatically, clearly taking the mickey out of my moment of pure self-indulgence. “Oh my god,there's a signature cocktail named after me!"

Before I can answer, Natalie appears out of nowhere, sliding into the seat across from us, drink in hand, gleefully eavesdropping.

"Oh, please. Don't stop the flirting on my account." Natalie kicks her feet up on the empty seat beside her. "Though I should remind you both that I'm here to work, not referee your mile-high shenanigans."

"Shouldn't you be taping ankles or something?" I shift in my seat, angling my body between her and Sophia.

Natalie's dressed in her Icehawks-branded compression shirt and the yoga pants emblazoned with the logo across her thigh. Her hair's pulled back in that practical ponytail she always wears during game prep.

Natalie ignores her and flips through Sophia’s menu. “Oooh, Spicy Sophia Margarita. Extra heat.”

Sophia’s mouth parts. “Excuse me?!”

Natalie grins. “I might have put in a request.”

Sophia slaps my chest,hard, then waggles her brows at me. "See! Idohave something named after me." She glances to Natalie and winks. "Thanks, babe."

I stretch my legs as the plane lifts off, watching her out of the corner of my eye, trying and failing not to stare.

She’s gorgeous. Always is.

There’s something different about her today. Maybe it's the viral video? Maybe that's given her a boost of confidence?

Or maybe, just maybe, it's because she enjoyed the feel of my hand coming down on her sweet, plump ass?

Sophia and Natalie chatter about team dynamics as Coach Brody drops into the seat beside Natalie, and we start chattingabout the challenge of facing Chicago, the most in-form team in the league.

The flight attendant brings our drinks - my usual ice-cold water and that ridiculous margarita Natalie conspired to name after Sophia.

"Water?" Sophia frowns at my selection like it personally offends her.

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