Page 171 of Beautiful Venom

When I look back again, he’s smiling.

God. I love his smile.

I love that it comes out more often lately.

He motions at the bench area and mouths, “Come down.”

Megan squeals. “Oh my God, oh my God. He has the game puck! Go!”

My legs shake as I rush past the lively crowd and head down, then I take a detour and rush to the players’ bench area. I nearly fall when I hurry toward Kane, but he slides in just in time and catches me.

I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He carries me with infinite ease, and it baffles me how easily I’m getting used to this.

I’m getting used to being vulnerable with him. To letting him see parts of me no one else can.

And it scares me. So much.

But I can’t stay away. Even if I can’t use him to get my revenge. I want to believe that I can have both.

Him.

And revenge.

He’s removed his helmet, his brown strands sticking to his face. I stroke his hair back, completely forgetting that we’re surrounded by the entire world.

“You were amazing!” I say.

“Does that mean you’ll sing my praises online, ColdAsKane?”

“Oh my God. How do you know about my alter ego?”

“Coincidence?”

“Now, I have to kill you.”

He laughs, the sound rushing past my rib cage and piercing my heart. I hug him tighter, drowning in his scent and feeling every rush in his breaths.

It’s moments like these where I think I canfeelthe real Kane. Not the image he wears so well or the control he allows to rule his life.

Don’t get me wrong. He’s definitely a sadist who gets off on hurting me during sex. But then again, I love that. We’re compatible in that sense.

I just don’t like the emotional sadism, and lately, I feel like we’re making progress. He doesn’t hurt me—at least, not intentionally—and he listens when I say I don’t like something.

The other day, I said I didn’t like it when he fucks me clothed and he’s never done it again.

Kane wipes the puck on his glove and then offers it to me. “For you.”

“Really? I can have it?”

“The captain says you can.”

“Thank you!” I kiss his cheek, leaving a stain of red lipstick. His favorite.

“You can do better than that.” Kane fists my hair and devours my lips.

In front of the whole campus, league, and crowd.

A blush creeps up my neck even as I let him kiss me. I always believed I didn’t care what others thought, but as Kane stakes a claim in public, I feel exposed.

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