Page 12 of Trade Deadline

“I’m only messin’ with you.” I cup his elbow, bringing him to stand next to me. “What can I get you?”

Alex looks over his shoulder to where his friend went. As if sensing his eyes on him, his friend turns his head and winks before returning his attention to the guy he’s talking to. I send a telepathic thank you for allowing me some uninterrupted time with Alex.

“I’ll have a beer, please.”

I wave to get Dylan’s attention before looking back at Alex. I take in his features, a cute button nose, full, pillowy lips. A cupid's bow that’s just begging to be kissed. His face has a youthful glow but a jawline so sharp it could cut glass. He looks younger than me, possibly a senior in college based on this air of innocence about him.

And not just because of his fucking adorable blushing, but a sense of purity.

Purity ready for me to corrupt.

He’s fucking breathtaking.

When Dylan slides the beers across, I raise mine for a toast, clinking our bottles together, and I watch intently as he takes a swig, at how his throat bobs when he swallows. I take a sip of mine, running my tongue over my lips slowly, keeping my eyes locked on his.

He follows the movement, teasing the tip of his tongue over his lower lip.

I’m burning with the inferno that I’m playing with, but nothing could stop me.

Not Coach.

Not Ethan.

Not Hayden.

Most certainly not myself.

“I haven’t seen you here before.”

Cringe, is that really the line you’re coming out with, Olsen?

“That’s because I haven’t been here before.” He tilts his head curiously. “Do you make a habit of knocking people's drinks over and then hitting on them later?”

Well, shit.

I chuckle nervously. “What can I say? I thought you were hot and needed to cool down a bit. You were distracting me.”

He raises an eyebrow, his full lips twitching in amusement, and takes a sip of his beer. When he leans his head back, I take a chance and step into his space. Our chests press together, the hitch in his breath making all the blood in my body rush straight to my cock.

Blaine Olsen, two minutes for popping a boner in public.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.”

His face lights up with a shy smile at my compliment. I press my finger under his chin when his head drops, lifting it to make him look at me. His blue eyes have turned dark with desire. The rise and fall of his chest tells me he feels this.

This electric current between us. It’s palpable, like lightning hitting the ocean in the middle of a storm. It was there during warm-ups and again when I was sent to the box.

“Did you enjoy the game?”

He nods. “It was amazing; that slap shot of yours was something else.” I'm hypnotized by his smile. “And that fight?”

I’m taken by surprise as he cups my jaw with his hand, brushing his thumb gently over the cut on my lip. A low purr rumbles deep in my chest under his touch. It's so gentle, but at the same time, it’s like my body has been charged with a thousand volts. I’m vibrating with need.

A need to taste him.

A need to hear him moan.

A need to know just how low that fucking blush goes.

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