Page 82 of In My Hockey Era
I roll my eyes, but warmth spreads through my chest anyway.
He watches as I take another bite, gaze flicking from my mouth back to my eyes.“You gonna share that, or am I just here for moral support?”
I consider telling him no just to mess with him, but instead, I dip my spoon into the mousse and hold it up in offering.“You have your own spoon.”
He grins, but instead of reaching for his, he leans forward and takes the bite straight from mine, his lips grazing the edge of the utensil in a way that shouldnotbe as hot as it is.
My breath hitches.
He sits back, licking the corner of his mouth.“Damn, that’s good.”
I clear my throat.“The mousse or the spoon theatrics?”
He chuckles, setting his empty champagne flute aside.“You tell me.”
I force myself to focus on something—anything—other than the way my body is responding to him.“I can’t believe you still have energy.Aren’t you exhausted?”
“Not even a little,” he says, voice smooth.“But you look ready to crash.”
I sigh, setting my spoon down.“It’s been a long day.”
He watches me for a beat, something unreadable flickering in his expression.Then he tilts his head slightly, voice dropping.“You ready to get out of here?”
My pulse skitters.
It’s a simple question.Innocent, on the surface.But thewayhe says it, low and knowing, like he’s already picturingexactlyhow the rest of the night will play out—
I swallow.“Yeah.”
Bennett grins, slow and smug, before standing and offering me his hand.
And as I slip my fingers into his warm, steady grasp, I knowexactlywhere this night is headed.
31
NO TURNING BACK
Bennett
Iopen the door for her, watching as she gracefully slides into my SUV, golden sequins catching the light, her perfume lingering in the air between us.
I shut the door behind her and exhale sharply before rounding the car, trying to get my damn head on straight.
Which is funny.Because I don’t think I’ve evernotbeen able to keep my cool around a woman before.
But Lucy?
She messes me up.
I slide into the driver’s seat, hit the ignition, and let the soft hum of the engine fill the thick, charged silence between us.The gala is behind us now, but the tension?It’s still here, filling the car like athird entity, pulsing, waiting.
I shift into drive, and steal a glance at her.
She’s staring out the window, lips slightly parted, fingers toying with the delicate bracelet on her wrist—the one she said she never wanted to take off.
My chest tightens.
I reach for the volume knob and turn on the stereo.A sultry, slow, intoxicating rhythm fills the space.It’s sensual.Dangerous.
