Page 50 of Dirty Pucking Player

A loud knock at the door has me jerking up, and I glance around the room.

Where did that come from?

The knock comes again.

That wasn’t the hallway door.

It’s the door that leads to the adjoining room.

What the hell?

I slide off the bed and make my way over to the door on aching feet. This is like the start of a horror movie where the stupid girl opens the door to a serial-killer stalker in the room next to her.

Really dumb, Greer.

Don’t answer it.

My hand curls around the lamp on the dresser running along the wall next to the door. At least if someone tries to murder me, I have some sort of a weapon to defend myself.

I stare at the door.

The second knock makes me jump again. I swallow thickly and take a step closer. “Who is it?”

A familiar deep chuckle comes under the crack in the door. “It’s me, Coach.”

My heart flips in my chest. “Bash?”

I twist the lock on the door and pull it open. The devil himself leans against the jamb in the adjoining room, a grin occupying his lips and a glimmer of that arrogance in his eyes.

Damn. He looks good.

The time off didn’t change a thing or weaken my reaction to him. Heat flares in my belly, and a dull ache forms between my legs. The same one that’s haunted me since our night together.

I am so not ready for this.

Here I thought I had more time to consider this entire situation, that I wouldn’t have to see him face to face until he rejoined the team tomorrow.

I need another day!

I’m not mentally prepared to have this discussion, but he’s standing only two feet in front of me. It’s not like I can slam the door in his smug face, even if part of me may want to. “What are you doing here?”

He raises an eyebrow. “My suspension is over. I’m back tomorrow.”

I sigh and wave my hand. “Yeah, yeah, I know that. I meant what are you doing here.” I point to his room. “You weren’t supposed to arrive until morning.”

Bash takes a step toward me, his whiskey eyes raking over me in a way that suddenly makes me feel naked, even though I’m still wearing a blouse and my suit skirt.

“I decided to come early. And, when I checked in, I asked for an adjoining room.”

My mouth drops open. “And they just gave it to you? What if you had been some kind of stalker or pervert?”

He grins and takes another step toward me, the move menacing and demanding. I step back until my knees hit the bed behind me. There isn’t anywhere left to run from this man, and he knows it.

“I’m not a stalker, Coach, but I’m definitely a pervert.” His tongue snakes out and over his lips like he’s remembering the taste of something he really enjoyed. He winks at me. “But you already knew that.”

God, why is that so hot?

I should hate this—his swagger, his attitude, his big fucking ego that can barely fit in this room, yet heat floods every limb, and my legs begin to shake.

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