Page 54 of College Hockey Bully

“Because they’d already be at the door, telling me to stay away from you,” he grins.

“Yet, not knowing they weren’t here, you still took that chance. Why?”

He shrugs. “Maybe I like living on the edge. Who knows?”

After considering it for a moment, I inch the door open. “They’re not due home for a few hours. Come on in.”

Aiden steps up and glides past me. I almost swoon from the intoxicating scent of his cologne. As if he needs extra help with being extremely alluring.

His expression warms as Milo saunters up to sniff around his ankles. “Cute dog,” he mumbles, ruffling Milo’s coat.

I’d hardly call him cute, but Milo obviously likes the compliment. With delighted whimpers, he nuzzles Aiden’s leg before going back to his spot by the TV. Aiden straightens, scrutinizing the small living room.

“It’s not the Ritz,” I mumble dryly.

“It’s definitely cozy, though,” he murmurs, turning to me.

“Thanks,” I reply, his sincerity filling me with warmth.

He suddenly sniffs the air. “Something smells amazing.”

“That’s just my tomato sauce. I’m making spaghetti and meatballs.” I ease past him and gesture to the couch. “Make yourself comfortable, I guess. Be right back.”

His scent follows me into the kitchen, competing with the aromas of garlic, tomato and basil. I rest the bouquet in a bowl while making a mental note to get a jar from around the back of the house later. I don’t know what I was thinking, inviting him into my sacred space. Two minutes and it already feels—

“It smells even better in here.”

I whip around, the spoon falling from my hand to the plywood floor. “Jeez. I thought I told you to get comfortable.”

“Which is exactly what I’m trying to do.” He dips for the spoon, then hands it to me. “I’m very much comfortable right here.”

I swear I can’t breathe. His huge frame filling the tiny space, that tenderness in his eyes, the fact that I’m urged to bury my face in his chest and inhale that wonderful scent is just too much. I drop the spoon in the sink and reach for a fresh one.

“It’s pretty hot in here. You’d be much cooler in the living room.”

“I think I can manage,” he replies. “Need any help?”

“No.”

“I’m a pretty good taster,” he sing-songs.

My mind goes right to the gutter. Having constant fantasies about Aiden’s head between my thighs will do that to a girl. I clear my throat, as if that’s good enough to kill the image of his tongue licking my clit. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s like my sex drive has doubled since we had that moment in his pool.

“May I?”

His voice pierces into my thoughts and I smile grimly while handing him the spoon. “Not exactly gourmet like you’re used to, FYI.”

Aiden gives me a reproachful look before sticking the spoon in his mouth. He moans softly and his eyes roll over. I roll mine in response.

“Don’t flatter me. I’ve been cooking for years, no one has died and I’m good with that—”

“It’s fucking amazing, Scar. What are you talking about?” He gestures to the pot. “Can I have another taste?”

“Sure.” I reach for a fresh spoon, scooping up another serving. He pulls it from his mouth slowly this time, drawing out the soft moan.

Jesus Christ.An aching throb settles between my thighs as I turn away from him and reach for the container of spaghetti on the shelf. If I didn’t know better, I’d assume Aiden came here to seduce me. Flowers. Teasing. Licking that goddamn spoon. He wants to drive me mad with lust.

Is that his endgame? Getting me to sleep with him, then dumping me would be the perfect revenge, wouldn’t it? I’ve heard girls were never the same after Aiden got done with them.

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