Page 82 of Crossing Lines

“Yes. It wasn’t signed, but who else would have done that?” I darted my gaze over Jonah’s stunning face, his light-blue eyes surrounded by the long black bangs. It would almost kill me to not be with him for the next few weeks. “Jonah, Finley wants us to stop seeing each other until after the season is over.” I drew adeep inhale. “He thinks that if Owen gives out more letters, then I can deny our relationship and just say we had a hookup.”

“Fuck no.” He puffed a breath out of his nose, his nostrils flaring. “I’m not letting that asshole stop us from being together.” He glared at me. “What the hell difference would it make? We could still deny whatever bullshit he puts in a letter.” His glare shifted into a stare. “Wait, why didn’t you deny it anyway?”

I scoffed. “One, there was a picture in the letter of us kissing in the bar that night you threw him off me. And two, Finley saw you leaving my hotel room.” I arched a brow at him.

“Oh shit.” He shook his head. “I didn’t think he’d seen me.” He twitched the corner of his mouth. “So, Coach Finley has known about us for a while, huh?”

“Yes, and he never said a word.” A slight grin played over my lips. “He didn’t think it was a big deal since I’m not your direct coach. He feels the way we do about it.”

“You know? I’ve always really liked that guy.” He huffed a quick laugh. “Shit, so what do we do now?”

“There’s a chance Owen will try handing out more letters when he sees there was no response to the first one.” I watched his eyes narrow at me. “We’re going to keep an eye out for them.”

His lips pinched and he straightened his spine. “Maybe I can catch the fucker bringing it to the rink. I’ll?—”

“You’ll do nothing. You beating on him will only make things worse.” I gave him a pointed look. He had to hear me on this. “You understand?” Grabbing his hands, I shook them between us.

As a smirk curled his lips, he said, “But if Ace?—”

“No, Jonah. None of the squad is going to do anything to Owen.” I bit back,even if the fucker deserves it. “Promise me.”

With his gaze hardening, he wrinkled his nose. “Seriously?”

“Promise?” I squeezed his hands. “Jonah?” My pulse raced.

“Fine. I promise.” He glowered and leaned his side into thecouch cushions. “That fucker shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this. It’s none of his fucking business.”

“I know.” I freed one of his hands and mirrored his position, leaning my cheek on the back of the sofa. “We have to be really careful from now on. No Club on Mill, no dinners outside of this apartment, and definitely no late-night visits to my room when we’re on the road.” At least we could still hole up here.

“But Owen knows I come here. Maybe you should start coming to my place?” He lifted his head, the hint of a smile teasing his lips. “You could join us for a squad dinner.”

“No, Jonah. That’s just…” I huffed. “It’s too weird. Archer and Tyler are still my D-men. I’m already blurring the lines with you and me.”

“But Archer’s dad is going to be coaching him if he makes it into the Coyotes. Why is it so weird to coach people you hang out with?” He brushed his knuckles down my cheek, his gaze dropping to my mouth. “I thought we’d be kissing by now.”

With a soft snort, I said, “I know.” Tipping my head back, I gazed at my ceiling fan for a beat, thinking about what he’d said, then faced him. “When you’re coaching a player, you need to mentor them. When you cross into the friend zone, the mentoring part becomes difficult. A father is a mentor, so I don’t think what Archer’s dealing with is the same.”

He lifted his brows. “My, aren’t we philosophical tonight.” He lifted the corner of his mouth.

“Shut up.” I poked him in the ribs.

He squirmed and grabbed my wrist. “So, for the next few weeks, we’ll keep it on the super down-low and only spend time together here.”

“Yes, thank you.” Hopefully, we’d be able to intercept any new letters from Owen, and now I had Finley on my side. We just had to get through the next few weeks with all the travel for regionals. If we won our games, then we’d be on to St. Louis for the real deal. “What do you want to order for dinner?”

Shimmying closer to me, he said, “You?” With a smirk, henibbled on my neck and skimmed a hand under my shirt and up to tease a nipple into a hard nub. “Fuck, I want you.” He bit his way to my chin, then devoured my mouth in desperate kisses, darting his tongue across mine.

I groaned as my dick swelled in my sweats. To hell with food for now. I unfastened his jeans and worked his solid cock out, giving it lazy strokes.

With a moan, he freed my mouth and tipped his head back. “Jesus, that feels good.” His darkened gaze met mine. “I haven’t done anything since the last time we were together.”

A shiver raced down my spine. “Yeah? So, you basically saved yourself for me?” I swirled my palm around the flared crown of his cock, sliding precum around it.

He hissed and tensed his brows. “You can think of it that way.” Grabbing the back of my head, he planted eager kisses on my mouth, his tongue gliding against mine.

Slanting my mouth over his, I met his intensity and stroked faster over his dick. As I broke the kisses and sucked his earlobe into my mouth, I murmured, “Bedroom?”

With a stuttered nod, he said, “Fuck yes.” He untangled himself from me and stood up, then grabbed my hand. “Okay if I fuck you tonight?” He bit his lower lip, his gaze dropping to my tented sweats.

---