Page 40 of Dirty Pucking Player

She scowls and points at me with a shaky finger. “See, that, that right there is exactly what I’m talking about.”

“What is?”

I’m actually not trying to be a smartass—maybe for the first time ever. I genuinely have no idea what she’s talking about right now.

“Involved with.” She does air quotes and rolls her eyes toward the high ceiling. “What does that even mean?”

Oh, God.

We’re going there…

I push to my feet and move toward her cautiously because she already looks like a deer frozen in the headlights of an on-coming semi and I don’t need to agitate her more. “I don’t know what you want, Greer. I’ve been very upfront with you about who I am. I’ve never made you any promises or done anything that wasn’t completely in my character. You know me about as well as I know you. Promises at this point would be meaningless. And you know that.”

One thing I have never done is lie to a woman to get her into my bed, and I sure as hell wouldn’t do that to Greer. I won’t promise her a relationship I don’t want or any sort of future, and even if I did, she would know it’s a fucking lie at this point.

She watches me suspiciously as I approach, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

Christ, that’s hot.

It makes me picture my aching cock pressed between those lips. The harsh scrape of her teeth along my hard length. A little moan slipping out as she swallows me back…

I pause a few feet from her. Spooking her by getting too close now would undo any progress I’ve made in even getting her here tonight. It felt like a huge win, but she’s already contemplating bolting again. The only thing I can do is keep being brutally honest with her and hope it’s enough to get through to her.

“We are two consenting adults who are attracted to each other, Greer. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with us acting on that.”

She releases her lip with a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping. “The NHL and Bob might see things differently.”

Fucking hell.

“I don’t give a fuck what the NHL or Bob think. All I care about is what you want.”

The words come out harsher than I intend, but her waffling is worse than the weather swings in Michigan in the summer. I shove a hand through my hair and tug at the ends. I don’t want to say this, but I need to.

“You know where the door is, Greer. You left out of it before. And I’m not keeping you here now.” I step closer. “But I would really love for you to stay for dessert.”

She raises a pale eyebrow at me and glances at the table behind us. “Dessert? I didn’t hear you order any dessert?”

I bark out a laugh and shake my head as I step forward and take her face between my hands to tilt it up toward me. “I wasn’t talking about food, Coach.”

Her mouth forms the perfect little O of surprise, and I lean forward and kiss her before she can recover. That soft little mewl comes from her throat, and I push my lips harder against hers, willing her to give in. Begging her to let me in and to throw away all the thoughts and worries weighing down on her and holding her back.

She wanted clarity, an explanation from me for what this is, but I don’t have a fucking clue where this goes after tonight. Neither does she. To pretend otherwise wouldn’t be fair to either of us.

But with this kiss, there can be no doubt what I have in mind for right fucking now.

12

GREER

The man can kiss.

Oh, good God…can he kiss.

My entire body vibrates with anticipation with every lick of his tongue and press of his lips. I want more. I crave more, but I can’t turn off that tiny voice inside my head telling me to hold back.

This is wrong.

So fucking wrong.

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