Page 47 of Slap Shot Daddies

I chuckle softly, finally relinquishing the book to her.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Kenzie

I stare intentlyat the door while my fingers clamp tightly around the worn edges of the book Reggie just returned to me. Every instinct screams that I should tell him to leave.

I should definitely tell him to leave.

Yet, instead, I find myself stepping forward, reaching behind me to slide the lock into place with a soft, decisive click.

Reggie smirks, his wolfish grin stretching across his freckled face, his bright amber eyes shimmering with a knowing gleam, as though he anticipated my resistance would crumble.

Before I can even entertain a second thought, his arms encircle me once more, drawing me into the solid, reassuring warmth of his chest.

I inhale deeply, his cologne enveloping me in its intoxicating embrace, rich cedarwood mingled with a hint of spice.

The scent alone leaves my head spinning.

"Back for more already,lass?" he teases, his voice a low, velvety murmur that tickles my lips, sending shivers down my spine.

"Shut up," I whisper, rising onto my toes to press my mouth against his.

He groans into the kiss, a deep, resonant sound, his hands tightening possessively around my waist, pulling me even closer.

His lips move against mine with a fervent hunger, each kiss growing deeper, more insistent and urgent.

I lose myself entirely in the sensation, the softness of his lips, the way his stubble brushes deliciously against my skin, the way his hands grip me as if he never wants to let go.

All the tension that had knotted within me dissolves, like ice melting under a warm sun, and I feel as though I can finally breathe again. I clutch at his sweater, drawing him nearer.

God, I want him. I need him.

And from the way his hands roam over me with a fervent, searching urgency, I can tell he feels the same.

Reggie's hands grip my thighs suddenly, lifting me with an effortless grace that leaves me breathless, and a gasp escapes my lips as my legs instinctively coil around his waist like ivy clinging to a sturdy tree trunk.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly rumble vibrating against my lips, thick with a day's worth of pent-up desire. “I’ve wanted to do this all damn day.”

His words barely register in my mind before he sets me down on the edge of my desk, his large, firm hands anchoring themselves into my hips, holding me in place as if I might float away.

His body radiates an intense heat, seeping through the layers of our clothes, igniting a fiery trail wherever it touches mine.

My fingers slip beneath the hem of his sweater, eager to explore the bare skin beneath, and I shiver at the sensation of his body, solid, warm, sculpted as though an artist had painstakingly carved him from the finest marble.

My uninjured hand glides over the ridges of his abs, fingertips tracing the defined, undulating lines of muscle with reverent curiosity.

Damn. The man is an absolute masterpiece, a living testament to perfection.

Reggie watches me through half-closed eyes, his breath emerging in short, heated puffs like steam from a locomotive.

“Like what ye feel, love?” he rasps, the words a smoky caress against my senses.

I bite my lip, my palm pressing flat against his taut stomach, feeling the subtle twitch of his muscles beneath my touch, a silent symphony of reaction.

“Maybe,” I tease, my voice barely more than a breathless whisper.

He growls softly, a primal sound, as his lips trail down the curve of my jaw, along my neck, leaving a scorching path of heat in their wake.

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