Page 101 of Blindside Sinner

I want to stay awake and savor the feel of his arms around me, the warmth of his body nestled against mine, but I’m exhausted and my muscles are wrecked. It’s been a while since I did this kind of full-body workout, and every inch of me feels it.

So I give myself the treat of staying cuddled in this fantasy for just a little bit longer.

When I wake a second time, his side of the bed is empty. I’m snuggled with his pillow, not him. Sadness hits me like a freight train. He’s gone, just like I knew he would be. It’s his M.O. and he isn’t going to change, and I was stupid to ever think that there was ever a chance of him?—

“Good morning.”

I turn to look at the door and there he is. Tall, dark, wearing a pair of thin gray sweats that don’t hide much, and he’s holding a steaming mug of coffee in each hand. Before he hands me mine, he leans down for a kiss. It’s hotter than it has any right to be, and despite the very real fear of turning his stomach with my morning breath, I can’t help but kiss him back like I’ll never get to do it again.

When he finally pulls back, he tugs the sheet down to expose my bare breasts. “Very good morning, actually.”

I like this side of him. Playful and fun. Relaxed. I want to let it last, but I can’t, because it begs the question I don’t want to ask. The one I don’t have a choice but to ask.

“Beck, what are we doing?”

He shoots me a side-eye. “I’m drinking coffee and you’re having tea with milk.”

“Yes, but I mean, us. What was last night?”

“I thought I did a pretty good job. But I might need to up my game if you don’t know.”

“Come on, Beck. Be serious.”

He scoots closer, sets both his mug and mine on the nightstand, then threads his fingers into my hair on each side of my scalp. “I don’t know, Sloan. All I know is that you’re mine. That’s a good enough start for me.”

I sigh. “It’s not for me. I know I’m pushing the questions fast, but it matters because this isn’t a normal thing. Are we dating? Seeing other people? And that also brings up the issue of my contract. We can’t tell people, obviously. I’ll lose my job.”

“You’re mine. You won’t be seeing other people.” I cock a brow and he chuckles. “Don’t worry—I won’t, either. And would losing your job be so bad? You could be here because you want to be here.”

“Are you implying that I’m here because I think this is part of the job?”

He shakes his head. “No, and I don’t have a problem keeping it quiet. But all this… ” He moves his hands down his body cheekily. “… is more than a fringe benefit of your employment.” He elbows me in the ribs and smirks playfully. “You make me feel so cheap, Ms. Reeves.”

“Shut up,” I snap, biting back a shy giggle.

His smirk smooths out into something more serious as he strokes a scarred finger along the exposed inside of my thigh in a way that gets me ready all over again. “Sloan, you’re mine, and that means all the things that come with that. We get to decide what those things are when the time is right.. You and me. Noone else.” He drops a soft kiss on my mouth. “So don’t worry. It’ll all be fine.”

“Okay,” I whisper. “I won’t worry.”

Greater lies have never been told.

After a long soapy shower—the together kind, which involves him going down on me again with that tongue-and-fingers combo that makes me see the afterlife—I drop him at the rink because he has a pregame skate and meeting.

With a few hours to kill and nothing on the agenda, I head to the new lingerie shop downtown. I noticed it when we left last night for the club.

The shop is high-end and a perfumed salesgirl shows me the newest selection of intimate apparel. There are teddies and camis, garters and stockings, sheer and lace, satin and see-through. I pick a couple on a whim and head to the dressing room.

I check my watch. Right about now, Beck should be in his strategy meeting where the guys all sit in a room and watch film of the other team.

And I have an idea.

I slip into a black lace corset top and a garter, roll on the fishnet stocking and look at myself in the mirror. It sends a decadent surge of power rippling through me as I snap the picture and cue it up to text to Beck. My legs are crossed because trying onpanties is a no-no and I want him to work for the follow up picture.

Under the picture, a bubble appears with three flashing dots.

BECK:Fuck yes. I want to see it all.

As I’m thinking of a flirty reply, another text comes in.Sit on the bench behind you and spread your legs.

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