Page 60 of Never Your Girl

“Yup.” I roll off him and onto my back, not needing to be told twice.

He raises himself up on one elbow to stare down at me. “Our game is tonight. You’ll be there, right?”

It’s tempting to tell him that I won’t be able to make it. After what just happened between us, a little distance would do me some good. It would give me a chance to fortify my walls again. I don’t like how quickly he was able to break them down.

“Yeah.” I almost wince as the word slips free.

“And you’ll wear the jersey?”

“It would be rude if I didn’t after you bought it for me,” I mumble as my cheeks heat under the intensity of his stare.

His expression relaxes as the corners of his lips quirk. “When have you ever been worried about being rude?”

I can’t help but snort.

He’s got me there.

Before I can come up with a snappy retort, he leans closer and brushes his lips across mine. Our gazes stay fastened until he pulls away and rises from the bed with a lazy stretch. It’s only then that I notice the massive boner he’s sporting.

Damn.

A thick shiver slides through me as I remember how good the stroke of his hard length felt. It takes a moment to realize that while I got off, he didn’t.

After giving me a delicious orgasm, he asked for nothing in return.

“Am I free to go, or would you like to keep staring?” His tone drops, turning husky. “Because I certainly don’t mind you eating me up with your eyes. In fact, I kind of like it.”

I clear my throat. “Need a hand with that?”

“As tempting as the offer is, I don’t think we have time. You stroking my cock isn’t something I want to rush.” He nods toward the door. “I’ll take care of it in the shower.”

My brows rise, and even though I just came, the mental image of Bridger stroking his hard length turns me on all over again.

There’s no doubt about it, dropping my guard was a bad idea. And if I’m not careful, it’s going to lead to problems.

If it hasn’t already.

“Okay.”

He pauses. “Can I take a rain check?”

I shrug, needing to shake off the disappointment that has settled over me. It doesn’t make a damn bit of sense why I would feel this way. “We’ll see.”

A chuckle slips free from him as he steps into the hallway, leaving me alone in his room. I collapse against the pillows and stare at the ceiling, wondering exactly how I ended up in Bridger Sanderson’s bed.

Even harder to believe… I just might be enjoying it.

20

Bridger

The sharp slap of my stick against the ice reverberates in my ears as I dig in, chasing the puck down the boards. My pulse thunders, the stress of the playoff game pressing down on me.

This isn’t just about winning.

It’s about fighting for my place and proving to the team, and myself, that I deserve to be here. That I’m more than the sum of my screw-ups.

And then there’s my father.

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