Page 48 of Confessions of a Former Puck Bunny

He turned to me, a lazy smile on his face. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for not giving up on me, even though I was kind of bitchy when you first hit on me.”

He grabbed my hand, brought it up to his lips, and kissed the back of it—usually he was clean shaven, but this morning he had a five o’ clock shadow and then some, and the combination of soft lips and whiskers sent a pleasant shiver down my spine. “Everything worthwhile takes effort and a little extra fighting for. And for the record, I wouldn’t say bitchy. Reserved, maybe. But from the first moment I saw you, I knew there was something different about you.”

“I’d about decided that the only way a guy would be interested in me was if I threw myself at him.”

“While we’re clearing things up, I wouldn’t mind that method.”

I shoved his arm and he laughed. Then he slowed and looked me in the eye. “Honestly, most guys were probably just too intimidated. But I’m glad. Weeds out all the losers who don’t see there’s more to you.”

My heart took off, beat after beat, and the desire I’d felt earlier turned into need. “Okay, now I am about to throw myself at you.”

“Bring it.” He pulled into the parking lot, and the second he put the car in park, I lunged across the console and straddled him.

I threw my arms around him, pressed my lips to his, and sank into his embrace. He gripped my hips, his fingers slipping underneath my T-shirt and digging into my skin.

“How tinted are these windows?” I glanced outside, unable to gauge how easily someone could see in.

“Dark enough.” Ryder kissed my neck and lightly sucked the skin there. Paintball sounded fun and all, but now I was thinking of a different physical activity, one where I did the opposite of taking out my aggression on a certain hockey player.

His hands drifted higher, his fingertips skirting the bottom of my bra. I pushed into him and he palmed my breasts. I bit lightly on his bottom lip and he brushed his thumbs across my lace-covered nipples, sending a ripple of pleasure down my core. I rolled my hips and he groaned, growing harder, which made me moan in return.

He pulled back and exhaled. “Okay, the windows might not be dark enough for what I want to do to you. Especially now that several of my teammates are starting to pull into the parking lot. It’s only a matter of time before one of them thinks it’s funny to knock on the window.”

“Dane,” I guessed.

“Oh yeah, my money would be on him.”

I laughed, experiencing that sense of belonging over the fact that I knew his teammates so well, and then worrying once again that it meant I was getting too deep. I’d already jumped, though, so my brain needed to keep up. Or shush up. Or I wasn’t really sure, but being wrapped in Ryder’s arms was definitely where I wanted to be.

“To be continued?” he asked, dragging his lips across mine.

I rested my forehead against his, working to regain control of my breathing, and nodded. “To be continued.”

“Okay, the game’s capture the flag,” Daniel, whose dad apparently owned this giant outdoor course and most of the gear, said. “In order to make it more interesting, players will freeze when they’re hit and team captains can unfreeze them if they can reach them without being shot.”

He quickly covered the rules and teams were drawn—girlfriends on same sides as their guys, “As not to prevent anyone from getting laid,” as Daniel so nicely put it. Maybe he wasn’t quite so chivalrous as I thought, although I supposed not making couples fight was nice in a way.

It also meant I was on the same team with Beck and Lyla, and Dane and Megan. Whitney was on the other team with Hudson, as well as a few other girls who looked as clueless as I felt about the entire game and what we’d managed to get ourselves into.

Ryder handed me a pair of thick goggles and helped adjust them so they fit snugly on my head. He demonstrated how to fire the weapon, shoved an extra clip in my pocket, and then looked me up and down. “Oh yeah, you’re ready. And a weird part of me wants to be taken down by you.”

I flipped my gun around my finger, nearly dropping it before regaining it and pretending to holster. “Better watch out. My allegiance is for sale.”

Ryder stepped closer and hooked his finger through my belt loop. “How much?”

“Careful, soldier. That sounds a little too close to implying I’m a prostitute.”

He opened his mouth, no doubt to say something highly inappropriate. I quickly maneuvered the barrel of my gun an inch from his crotch, and he slowly held up his hands. “My mistake, ma’am.”

“You guys can get a room later,” Dane called. “Right now, it’s time to talk strategy.”

Admittedly, as Dane outlined the plan, I only half listened, far more concerned with flirting with my…dare I go ahead and use the term? Boyfriend? He had, and the more I thought about it, the more I liked it.

There was also something crazy hot about his all-business face and the way the muscles in his arms flexed when he lifted his weapon or pointed toward the areas on the course he, Dane, and the rest of the team were discussing.

As the strategy session wound down, Lyla turned her weapon in her hands, studying every inch of it. She twisted the gun up, looked down the barrel, and she must’ve accidentally pulled the trigger, because I didn’t think anyone would purposely shoot herself in the face.

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