Page 50 of Over the Line

This was real. Garrett’s perfect lips. His stubbled chin. His hands on my back over my shirt. I’d had fantasies that weren’t this sexy.

Then he slid a hand down over my ass and pulled me flush against him, letting me feel every inch of his hard-on through our clothes. The friction against my own erection made my head spin even faster than it had earlier; holy hell, I wanted this man. Like now.

I drew back and met his eyes. He looked about as dazed as I felt… and about as aroused, too.

He licked his lips. “I’m, uh… I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess we’re on the same page.”

Laughing, I nodded. “Yeah. I think so,” I panted. “I swear I really was just inviting you over for a drink, but…”

He grinned. “I really was just coming over for a drink. I won’t complain about this, though.”

“Neither will I.” I ran my hands up his back. “Might be a good time to, uh…” I licked my lips. “Do you have a preference? Top or bottom? Or… are you even into that at all?”

Garrett’s eyes gleamed with renewed hunger. “I’m into it. And it’s been too long since I’ve bottomed.”

Oh, fuck.

I had to catch my breath. “Does that mean you haven’t wanted to? Or that you want to now?”

“I haven’t been with a top in a while.” He moved in for another kiss, and just before our lips met, he growled, “Assuming I’m with someone now who likes to top, I definitely want to.”

Jesus. My knees turned to liquid and my spine wasn’t much better.

“Ooh, yeah,” I said. “I definitely like to top.”

His low groan was the hottest thing ever.

Then he nudged me up against the counter, and pain shot down my leg.

I broke the kiss with a sharp gasp. “Shit!”

“What? What?” Garrett stepped back like I’d shoved him, hands upraised and eyes huge. “You okay?”

The pain was starting to recede, but I barely noticed over the resurgence of embarrassment. Rubbing my hip gingerly, I muttered, “Old injury.”

His eyes flicked to my hip, then back to mine. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no.” I stepped closer, reaching for him with my other hand. “You’re fine. I was, uh… Well, there’s a reason I’ve been laying around with a bunch of icepacks.”

Renewed alarm straightened his spine.

“It’s all right.” I shook my head as the heat in my face ebbed a little. “Occupational hazard.”

That seemed to relax him a bit, and he wrapped his arms around me again. “Right. I guess hockey is a bit tough on the body, isn’t it?”

Laughing, I nodded. “A bit, yeah. I’m good, just sore.”

“Okay. Okay, good.” But he didn’t pull me back in. Instead, an unspoken thought darkened his expression and loosened his embrace.

I wanted to slide my hands up his chest, but I hesitated. It was my turn to ask, “You okay?”

“Yeah. I, uh…” He swallowed hard, shoulders sinking a little. “Just… remembered you’re a hockey player.”

“Right? Is that okay?”

“It is.” He watched himself running his hand down my arm, his expression tough to read. “But you’re a hockey player… and so is my son.”

“So is—oh.”