Page 46 of Slap Shot Daddies

It's a small, dog-eared paperback, its cover worn and well-loved. Curiosity piqued, I pluck it out before she notices, flipping the cover up with a flick of my wrist. The moment I do, her entire body goes rigid, a statue carved by surprise.

Kenzie emits a strangled gasp, and in a flash, she leaps from my grip, lunging for the book with a desperation that surprises me. “Give that back!” she demands, her voice a mix of panic and embarrassment.

I grin mischievously, like the devil himself playing a prank, and step just out of reach, casually flipping to a random page. The first sentence my eyes skim over causes my eyebrows to shoot up in amused surprise.

“Ooh, Kenzie, love,” I tease, holding the book just high enough so that she has to jump to try and snatch it back. “So this is what gets you going?”

Her face turns a deep shade of scarlet, a vivid blush that spreads across her cheeks.

“Reggie, ” she starts to protest, but I interrupt by reading aloud, “‘His hands traced her body, possessive and demanding, as the three men worshipped her together.’”

Her hand shoots up to slap over my mouth, eyes wide with mortification.

“STOP!” she hisses, her voice a fierce whisper, desperate to maintain some semblance of privacy.

I lower the book just enough to wink at her, my voice a teasing murmur against her palm. “So,” I say, savoring the moment, “you’ve fantasized about this before, eh? And here I thought we were opening your eyes.”

Kenzie looks as if she might combust on the spot, her face a portrait of flustered disbelief, but before she can mustera response, her vet tech suddenly appears in the doorway, breaking the charged atmosphere.

“I’m heading out!” the woman calls, her voice cheerful and oblivious to the tension in the room.

Kenzie jumps back from me, her expression one of guilty surprise, like someone caught red-handed.

“Y-yeah, thanks, Amanda! See you tomorrow!” she stammers, trying to regain her composure.

I smirk, savoring the moment.

Oh, she’s fun to tease.

The moment her tech departs, Kenzie spins back toward me, her finger pointed like an accusation.

“Give me the book, Reggie,” she demands, her voice sharp.

I can't help but grin, casually flipping the pages open again. “Now, now, love, I just want to understand what’s been fueling your creativity.”

She lunges for the book, but instead of letting her snatch it away, I swiftly catch her wrist, pulling her closer until she collides against my chest.

A soft gasp escapes her lips as her body presses into mine.

Before she can voice her protest, I seize the moment, leaning in to capture her lips with mine.

Kenzie freezes for a brief moment before relaxing, her form melding into mine as if we were two halves of a whole. Her lips are soft yet fervent, and I swear I could become intoxicated by the taste of her.

I deepen the kiss, my hand sliding to the nape of her neck, gently tilting her head back to claim even more.

She whimpers, her fingers curling into my shirt, holding on tightly. The sound sends a shiver through me, and I groan, exploring her mouth, savoring every second of the passionate exchange.

I tug at the fabric of her sweater, my nails grazing lightly against the skin beneath. My blood races, my heart thunders in my chest, and I’m nearly tempted to lift her onto the desk, to have her completely.

Then footsteps echo down the hall.

Kenzie abruptly pulls away, her chest rising and falling quickly.

“We can’t, someone might…” she begins, her voice breathless and urgent.

I flash her a lazy, wicked grin. “Aye, but don’t pretend you don’t love it,lass.”

She shoots me a glare, her cheeks still a vivid shade of pink.

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