Page 82 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

And not just any man.

A hot-as-hell hockey player with a cocky smirk.

Oh, Christ. I’m in trouble.

“Evenin’ darlin’,” he drawls, his southern accent thicker than usual. Just like it was seconds before our lips collided. It hits me right between the legs, and I’m pretty sure it shows on every inch of my face.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask, attempting to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

“You’re leaving tomorrow morning, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” I agree as I dig around in my purse for my keys. “I’ve got a late morning flight. Why?”

“Thought we could spend the evening together,” he says, revealing a bottle of wine he had hidden behind his back. “Thought we could start celebrating the holiday early.”

My mouth opens and closes as I fight with what to say. He’s got that excited smile playing on his lips that always draws me in. But I don’t have time to spend the evening drinking with him. I’ve got shit to do. “I need to pack,” I blurt.

“O-okay, so…pack. I can hang out while you do what you need to do.”

Once again, no words come.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“No, not really.”

“You could go out with the guys. Find a bun⁠—”

“Sienna,” he growls, his expression hardening.

“What? I’m just saying,” I mutter as I twist the key and let us into my apartment.

Just like I was expecting, he follows me inside without a second thought. Although he doesn’t say anything else. At least, not until he’s put the bottle of wine on my kitchen island. Then he spins around faster than I’m sure he should with his knee and pins me against the wall.

His eyes hold mine, and my heart begins to race. His lips are parted, his breath coming out in warm puffs as his jaw tics with annoyance.

Tingles erupt from my core, and my fists clench at my sides as he plants one forearm beside my head, caging me in.

“I’m not interested in spending the night with a bunny, Sienna. I thought I made that clear the other night.”

His words vibrate through me, making me squeeze my thighs together in an attempt to quell the ache building there.

I swallow thickly.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he confesses, making me a little lightheaded as he ducks lower and grazes his lips along my jawline.

Oh my god.

My hands lift, pressing against his chest.

He stills, probably thinking that I’m about to push him away. Maybe I am; I don’t know. But before I can decide, my fingers twist in the soft fabric of his T-shirt, dragging him closer.

A groan rumbles deep in his throat a beat before he pulls back and looks into my eyes.

His pupils are blown with desire.

Holy shit.

He…he really wants me.