Page 62 of Enticing the Enforcer
Through the screen, Jefferson curses, his body tightening, his head falling back as he spills over his hand, thick spurts of cum pooling onto his abdomen. His groans tangle with mine until it feels like we’re in the same room, the same bed, the same skin.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters.
“Yeah,” I reply, unable to speak any further. I’m nothing short of undone. Ruined. Flushed and panting, the sheets damp beneath me. But I don’t feel lonely. For the first time in forever, I feel truly satiated. And I don’t just mean from the orgasm, butfromallof it–his voice, his hunger, the way he sees me like no one else ever has.
20
Jefferson
“Where’s the bottle of cleaner?”I’m rummaging under the kitchen sink, head first. “I know we have one. It’s yellow. Smells like lemons?” Straightening, I look over at the living room where Reid, Axel, Shelby, and Nadia stare back. “Are we out? Fuck, don’t tell me we’re out.”
“What’s happening here?” Axel asks from the couch, one eyebrow raised.
“I think this is what Jefferson looks like when he likes a girl,” Nadia replies, grinning.
“Shut up,” I snap, pointing at her with the rag. “And get your feet off the coffee table. I just wiped that off.”
Ingrid is coming to town. No, Ingrid is coming here. To the Manor. To a house where four hockey players have lived for the past three years. I know it smells like hockey pads and stale beer. I know it, even if I can no longer smell it. I got desensitized long ago.
Madison’s coming with her–it was the only way to get everyone on board. With the final shows coming up, it’s too riskyfor her to be out alone, even though I’ve made it pretty clear she’s not likely to leave my bed, much less the house, while she’s here. I’ve got plans and most of them involve us being naked.
Still, I’ve got this nervous energy, which apparently, in the off-season presents itself in stress cleaning like a maniac.
Shelby comes over, calm as always, walks into the laundry room and comes back with a caddy of cleaners. Ah, the laundry room. Of course. She plucks the rag out of my hands. “Chill. I’ll do the kitchen. You–go sit down and maybe drink a beer before you combust.”
“You don’t have to clean, Shelby. I can do it.”
“Jefferson, Ingrid Flockton is coming to our house.” She snorts like I’m the crazy one. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you be the one responsible for making this place presentable?”
Shelby’s turned into a bit of a house mom since she moved in two months ago. Axel told her not to baby us, but it’s what she likes to do. And she’s right. I’m acting like a lunatic.
I grab a beer from the refrigerator, twist off the top, and sink into the couch cushions. Reid, Axel, and Nadia are all staring at me.
“What?” I ask gruffly.
“Is this really happening?” Reid finally says.
“Is what happening?”
“You. Having a serious relationship. Or at the very least a more-than-a-one-night-standship?”
I rake my hand through my hair, frustration buzzing under my skin. “Fuck if I know.”
Because honestly–maybe this was a bad idea. Am I even ready for this? I’m about to head into the NHL. She’s a megastar. Sure, we like each other. Sure, our bodies are ridiculously in tune. And god, yes, I want nothing more than to get my hands on her the second she steps through that door.
But having her here? In this house I share with three guys and… sort of one girl? That’s what feels insane. That makes it real. There’s no hotel sheets. No concert as a buffer. Just me, her, and my life.
“Leave him alone,” Shelby says, spraying some kind of foam all over the island. “This is new for him.”
“Thanks, Shel,” I give her a grin before turning back to the others and glaring at them.
Nadia lifts her chin, dark eyes sharp. “Look, I know better than anyone that it’s a big deal for athletes, and hockey players in particular, to be complete sluts and non-committal.” Her gaze slides deliberately to Axel, who smirks without shame. He’d been a legendary player long before she tamed him. “But what’s the big deal? Do you just want to keep sleeping around forever?”
I shake my head because that’s not it. I haven’t hooked up with anyone else since Ingrid and I met. I don’t want anyone else. Not in the slightest. “I’m just not into the idea,” I mutter, taking a swig from my beer. The carbonation burns down my throat but does nothing to settle the nerves coiling in my gut.
Reid leans forward, elbows on his knees, grinning like an asshole. “He’s afraid settling down will make him boring or something.”
Bastard. That’s what I get for confiding in him.
