Page 27 of Offside

He’s gruff. Direct. Filthy-mouthed and domineering.

And I go weak every single time he goes all alpha on me. It brings me right back to that night in the Vegas hotel room and the easy way he took control over me, thereby allowing me to cede my own carefully constructed control and simply feel.

Do I wish I could throw caution to the wind and let it happen again, give into him one more time without any hesitation? Hell, yes.

But I can’t. If I ever allowed it to go there and it was exposed, it could create a big scandal in my office. How would it look? The young, new,femaleowner hooking up with the sexy hockey player she just signed for another year.

It would be a stupid mistake and I’d be a laughingstock among my cohorts in the business.

It’s hard enough to keep my head above water in a field dominated by men, especially older rich men who take every opportunity to be condescending and judgmental. I’m a fool if I let Ballas into my bed and into my private life, no matter how much I want to.

A desperate fool who still craves a repeat of that kiss from weeks ago.

It was the most passionate, demanding kiss I’ve ever had. The mere thought of it has my heart racing and my face flushing as I walk down the corridor toward the bathrooms.

When I left the table, Ballas was heading for the bar in search of another drink. But now as I round the corner into the lounge hallway, I see him walk out of the men’s restroom, adjusting his cufflinks.

His dark, charcoal-gray eyes smolder the moment they find mine. And then his gaze drops to my feet and does a slow, appreciative sweep up. The desire in his eyes stops me in my tracks as an intimate smile spreads across his kissable mouth.

An energy sizzles and heats between us and it rages inside me.

“Ballas,” I offer cordially, hoping to skirt around him to the ladies’ room and thus avoid touching him or brushing against him.

He bows his head like I’m a queen in his presence.

“Karis.” The gruffness in his voice is deep and powerful, sending a surge of heat to my belly.

I half-expect him to stop me as I move past, but he doesn’t. He lets me by without so much as a sexy, lingering glance.

I use the facilities and spend a few precious minutes checking over my appearance in the mirror. I can see what Daria saw in my face. I do look pale and the dark circles under my eyes are the evidence of just how much I’ve been pushing myself these past months.

Will this get any easier?

It’s so damn hard doing it alone.

Through the doors, I can hear the band starting up to move into the dance portion of the event. Ugh. The last thing I want to do is dance with old men who are widowed and looking for a younger wife or so uncoordinated that my poor toes will take a beating by the end of the night.

Or I could call it a night. I consider calling my driver to take me home early. The bags under my eyes certainly think that’s a good idea. But the ache in my soul that longs for fun and someone to celebrate my birthday with wants something else entirely.

I apply another dab of red lipstick to my lips and smack them together in a practiced method before stuffing the tube into my clutch. I open the door and step out, my eyes adjusting to the subdued light in the hallway, the sound of the music growing louder in my ears.

The moment I look up, I see Ballas leaning a shoulder casually against the wall, one long leg swung over the other. Is he waiting for me?

I tuck my purse under my arm and walk forward, keeping my gaze in front of me and trying to ignore the immediate pull of lust centering in my belly. He remains still, unmoving from his position, but from my peripheral, I can tell he’s watching me. With each step closer, the uncertainty swirls in my head as to the reason I should stay away from him. Doubt creeps into my thoughts, and his confident position has my pulse spinning wildly.

He looks ready to pounce, a beast lying in wait for its prey.

“What are you doing out here?” I ask. The confidence I typically carry is gone, replaced with a string of contradictory emotions about how I feel about this man.

Ballas chuckles, low and sensual, and my body screams for him. “Well, besides trying to hide from that woman who has been hounding me to dance, I didn’t want to leave before I wished you a happy birthday.” He straightens to his full height as I move one step closer. “Do you have plans to celebrate after this?”

A laugh bursts from my lungs. “Nope, no birthday plans. But thanks for the birthday wishes.”

“A fundraiser for your birthday? No birthday bash with your besties? Or extravagant after-party?”

I shake my head, wishing either of those things was true.

“Nothing…” My voice sounds small and shy. “I’m just going to go home to bed. I’m not big on celebrating birthdays anyway.”

---