Page 22 of One Touch

Things I’d never felt before. Things I wasn’t sure how to control. Things I was beginning to crave.

Why did the notion of letting go and having Miller take control sound so good?

Could I do it? Could it really stay quiet? Could I really have something for myself?

The questions plagued me the rest of the night. I’d been right believing Miller was my enemy. He was dangerous in ways I’d never encountered.

The problem was I no longer cared.

I wanted the escape he offered, but I didn’t know if I was brave enough to pursue it.

Fuck. This.

CHAPTER9

MILLER

I shouldn’t bethis happy, considering we’d just lost our first game of the season, but I was. I could feel Lathan slipping closer to giving in. I didn’t understand why I wanted him so much, but it was fruitless to deny it. I wanted to bend Lathan Silver until he broke. I wasn’t usually this dominating when it came to sex. But with him, the same beast that emerged on the ice kept coming out to play.

It wanted to ravage him, and I was helpless to stop it.

“You do know we lost, right?” Bell asked with a chuckle.

I dropped my perusal of Lathan and turned to my friend with a smile. “Yep.”

“Then do you have a death wish? Because Silver looks two seconds away from coming over here and ripping your eyes out.” He scrubbed his wet hair with his towel as he eyed me.

I grinned wider. “Nah. That’s just his way of saying hello.”Or foreplay, but I couldn’t exactly say that part out loud.

“Whatever you say, man.”

We finished dressing and walked out, and the rest of the team followed. We had a four-hour flight ahead of us, and we were all eager to get home. Lathan ignored me as I passed by his seat, but I could feel his eyes on me. He could pretend all he wanted that he wasn’t affected, but I wasn’t buying it.

The lights dimmed once we were all loaded, changed, and reseated. I spent half the flight sleeping and the other half looking up new recipes to try this week. I’d always enjoyed cooking and trying new things, but it wasn’t as fun to cook for one person. Watching Lathan enjoy what I made had unlocked a new kink. I was addicted to earning the little smiles he gave when he liked something.

Descending the steps of the plane, I hugged Bell bye, waved to a few other guys, and headed to my car. Despite us living together and going to the same place, Lathan and I drove separately. Though I suppose in his case, he’d been driven here. I spotted the black monstrosity with his driver idling at the gate and smiled to myself.

He was waiting for me. He would never admit it, but he was.

I’m going to make you like me, Lathan Silver. Just you watch.

While driving, I schemed new ways to push his buttons. I didn’t normally antagonize people, so there was a certain kind of freedom in doing it with Lathan.

I could hear the shower running in his room when I entered mine. He was hiding from me, but that was okay. It gave me more time to set my trap.

Changing into a black jock, I wrapped another new apron around my waist and set about making a midnight snack. After the past few games, we’d fallen into a routine when neither of us could sleep. I’d make something yummy for us to eat. Lathan would complain about it not being on his diet plan. Then I’d inform him it was, and he’d pout but eventually give in and enjoy my creation while we watched TV.

We hadn’t voiced it out loud, but we’d silently agreed only to watch episodes ofTed Lassotogether. Landon had recommended it, and it seemed we were both invested despite neither saying so. I wasn’t sure at this point if it was the show itself I was intrigued by or the man sitting next to me on the couch. Either way, I was firmly in the ‘believe’ camp.

“How many of those do you have?” Lathan said, gesturing to my apron. This one said, “I’m the special ingredient.” It was tamer than the others, but I liked its blue color.

“Why? Want to borrow one?” I teased.

Lathan rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything. The timer went off, and I wished I could have seen his expression when I turned. His shocked gasp when I bent over to open the oven was reward enough.

“What the fuck?” he shouted, and I stood with the tray of ‘mostly’ healthy cookies.

“Chocolate chip oatmeal cookies,” I said, pretending not to know what he was referring to.

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