Page 6 of Ice Devil

There were just enough people paying attention another player whistled, which prompted Beck to shoot them a look that could drive the man into the ground. With the very pinky I mentioned.

“You’re right, Ms. Winters. I apologize. I’m blessed to have such talent in my little finger.” He wagged it on purpose just to shoot back at me. “The simple answer is that it felt damn good to crush the opponent. That’s what I’ve lived for my entire life. And while I assume you don’t understand that playing hockey is a part of my blood, the reason I get up in the morning, that’s why I’m here. I plan on being the best not only for this team but in the industry. Now, my guess is you don’t care about anything but gathering a sound bite that will possibly be memorable enough to boost your career. So here’s one for you. Tell your readers you just had a hot fling with a member of the team who will go on to win the Stanley Cup.”

“You think you’re that good?”

He leaned in, offering me one hell of a sultry look. I could tell by the glint in his eyes that all he was doing was trying to fluster me.

I also gathered a sense he didn’t like to be pushed unless he controlled the situation.

Neither did I. At this point, I could keep the wall between us or try to break it down brick by brick. I don’t know why being here had put me in such a bad mood.

Oh, wait. I did.

That’s because just earlier I’d been getting ready to leave for the weekend, including having plans with my friends. Matthew had snagged me inside the elevator on my way out. He’d shoved a plane ticket in my hand, told me run home and get packed because I was leaving on a flight in a couple of hours. He’d then tried to ply me with compliments, telling me I was the only one who could provide the spark needed to entice readers of all ages.

When that hadn’t worked, he’d resorted to bribery with the hotel, which was far removed from where the players were staying. He knew how I enjoyed my privacy and quiet time surrounding writing the article itself.

When I’d balked, he’d simply told me it was an order and had stepped off the elevator, leaving me fuming.

The only good news was that he’d had his secretary find me a hotel, which happened to be the Four Seasons outside of Scottsdale. She’d emailed me the hotel details, leading with her having booked a suite with a plunge pool and a few pictures of the spa and wellness center. At least she understood the one luxury I’d ever allowed myself. With an extra day given the flight schedule, I could enjoy taking a day to myself.

However, only if I got through tonight.

What the hoopla around my mission had told me was that the company owners believed the Kendrick brothers were very important. I’d be the judge of that.

With heat slipping from my core, tickling every inch of my skin and my breath resisting all efforts to remain controlled, I knew this had become a battle of wills.

We were both intent on winning, but what game were we playing?

With the closeness of his massive body, the boost of jet-fueled electricity arcing between us, I needed a savior to claw my way out of our sinful tête à tête.

Ask and ye shall receive—if only you believed in divine intervention.

A player smacked directly into Beck, which caused a chain reaction. He was caught off guard, pushed forward. I sensed a huge mass weighing almost twice what I did about to crush me and threw my hand out for protection. I was caught by surprise, which in turn had me dropping my notepad. When I tried to grab it just after the small book slipped from my fingers, I grabbed something else instead, yanking on instinct.

Only after the dust settled did I realize what I’d jerked free instead.

The towel keeping the arrogant player’s cock and butt safely from my viewpoint.

Now with them on full display, another instinctual moment took over and I gasped. Maybe in shock. Perhaps in appreciation. Definitely out of embarrassment. However, not just from bearing witness to a magnificent work of art in one thick, long, and throbbing dick.

But in the fact that after we’d both stopped moving, all time had ceased to exist, and there was one obvious situation that would forever horrify me and create enjoyable memories for the goalie.

My hand had landed on his shaft. Not only that, but my fingers had automatically wrapped around the thickness, holding on as if the man and his cock were a lifeline.

A slow and steady, even evil smile crossed his face while I couldn’t react quickly enough for common decency, my hand lingering in the forbidden area a little too long.

If I wasn’t mistaken, he’d inched even closer so the sweat and heightened level of testosterone created sheer intoxication.

“Is there something you like, Ms. Winters? Would you enjoy a test run? I’d be happy to provide one for you.”

There was no easy or cool way of ignoring the awkward situation or even returning the interview to some sense of normalcy. The moment called for a completely different tactic.

After a solid squeeze, I rolled my hand all the way to the tip before I released my hold. As I did, I wore a judgmental expression while slightly cocking my head.

Beck watched me intently, playing the part as the perfect candidate.

When I offered a loud-enough-he-was-holding-his-breath ‘hmmm,’ I tried to chastise myself for enjoying the moment.