Page 66 of Break The Ice

“Or maybe you would prefer if I tied Raider to the bed and sat you on his face so he can make you come until you pass out?”

“Kit?”

He leans down, his lips ghosting across my skin. “You play dangerous games, you get hungry alphas,” Kit purrs and rubs the side of his face against my boob, pushing it up and then lifting just to watch it flop back and jiggle. “I can’t wait to play with these.”

“Kit!” I repeat, still in a little bit of shock.

He slides his hand down, grips me again, and smiles while he waggles those perfect eyebrows. “There we are, soaked right through. If you stay here with us, I’ll keep you this wet for the rest of your life. Either dripping and ready for a cock or dripping cum from all the cock we’ve given you. But either way, wet, sloppy, and very, very happy.”

He leans down, his fingers stroking me even as his lips press to mine. I moan into his mouth, but he keeps the kiss light, and then he’s up and walking away.

I sit up and put a hand to my hair. Dazed and tingling all over.

What the fuck just happened?

Oh, I goaded the alpha out of Kit.

Fucking hell, that was hot.

I look at Wren, Raider, and Callan, who are standing there watching with various degrees of hunger.

“You saw and heard that, right?”

“Yeah,” Callan murmurs.

“Yep. Little sexy Inmate likes to play with fire,” Wren purrs.

Raider just nods and walks in. He offers me a hand and pulls me to my feet.

“Come on, you’re coming with us. Go get into one of your disguises.”

They make the guysdo a press conference. It’s called damage control. Two of this season’s hottest hockey players just went from single to packed up, and it would appear that they’ve been lying to the public for years.

After the reaming from Blaze, the public relations manager, they were put in suits and dragged out in front of dozens of cameras to politely confirm their status.

Kit looks pale, but whenever he looks at me, I give him a reassuring smile. He trembles a little, but the person I’m the most worried about is Raider.

I sweep my blond hair behind me and pull my cap down. This wig is itchy but high quality, I can feel it even as I long to rip it from my scalp. I’m standing against the wall, watching the dozens of reporters taking photos and shout out questions that are growing increasingly more offensive.

Raider’s answers get shorter and sharper until Wren puts a hand on his arm and steps in front of him.

“The next question that comes out offensive is the last one we will be bothered hearing. We are Pack Mogel, not Raines.”

I blink in surprise. I would have thought they’d be Pack Raines, but I love that they have taken Kit’s name. It suits them.

“The reasons that we have for not explaining and revealing our relationship are, quite frankly, none of your business. We owe you the best we can be and do on the ice, but we don’t owe you anything off it.” Wren speaks with calm authority, and the alphas shift closer together, probably without even realising.

I can see the coaches groaning from here, and then I look up and see my uncle staring at me. He frowns and rubs at his chin. I wait to see what he’s going to do.

Will he recognize me or not?

His eyes widen, and I know I’ve been made.

Crap, this is not how I wanted to do this.

I hear a soft gasp that grows louder and spreads across the gathered crowd. I turn, standing on my tiptoes, trying to see what’s going on. A stunning blond man walks in like he owns the place. He’s tall and tanned, and he has the same eyes as Raider. Ironically, he’s wearing an open shirt with palm trees on it.

“Brother, we have to talk,” Kelly says.

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