I writhed and thrashed, fighting my way out of the blankets like a caterpillar emerging from its cocoon. Finally, breathless, I flopped back on the bed, chest heaving.
His jaw clenched. “The fuck are you wearing?”
I glanced down at myself and shrugged. “PJs.”
I’d packed this silky matching short and camisole set, expecting to sleep alone. I’d anticipated having a room all to myself.
So much for using my toys.I sighed. Not that they were all that satisfying. I missed the connection that came from sex as much as the pleasure.
Frasier pinched the bridge of his nose before looking down and away. The next thing I knew, a T-shirt was sailing toward me.
“Put. It. On.” His voice was tight, almost pained.
I would not be bossed around. I’d had enough of my family trying to tell me what I should do or thinking they knew what was best for me. Hell, strangers on the internet loved to dissect my life and my choices. Frasier was my friend, and I respected him. But I also wasn’t going to be pushed around by him—or anyone.
Besides, he was being ridiculous. So I threw it back at him—hard. “Youput it on.” If anything, he had on even less clothing than me.
His eyes met mine. “Bryn.”
“Make me,” I huffed.
Over the past year and a half, Frasier had become my best friend. But that was not how he was looking at me now. And I knew that wasn’t how I was looking at him either.
He looked downright pissed. And the exhaustion from the day coupled with the absurdity of the situation had emotion bubbling up inside me until I burst into a fit of laughter. Which only made Frasier’s glare deepen. And me laugh even harder.
“Oh, come on, Bear,” I teased. I got on my knees, righting my silky pajama tank. His eyes darted to my chest then to the ceiling. “Relax a little.” I planted my hands on his shoulders—both to steady myself and to get him to lighten up.
Once I was more stable, I released him, and he took a step back. He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. He was too uptight. Too in his head. We both were after a long day of travel and then the situation with us sharing a room. And I knew exactly what I needed to do.
I grabbed a pillow from the bed and lobbed it at his chest.
His nostrils flared. And somehow, even that was a turn-on. Or maybe getting a rise out of Frasier was the turn-on. I wasn’t exactly sure. But the sight of him, standing there in only his athletic shorts… My eyes lifted to his glorious chest and shoulders...the tats that wrapped around his ribs.
And my god, those abs.
I’d seen him shirtless plenty of times. But his muscles seemed even more defined. Or maybe I was just horny. Okay. Maybe both. But Frasier was undeniably hot.
I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but I liked that he was a little unhinged. All goalies were. You had to be to stand in a net and watch as a frozen disk of rubber came flying at you at insane speeds, willingly putting your body into its path.
I picked up another pillow, unable to stop myself. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had this much fun.
“You sure you want to do that, angel?” He arched one eyebrow, and my knees wobbled. His tone. That endearment. The way he was looking at me…
It made me want to challenge him, to push back. Something sparked inside me, and I felt more…alive than I had in a while.
Bring it on.
I grinned and then launched myself off the bed, ready to smack him with the pillow. But he was too fast. Of course, he was. The man was one of the best goalies in the league. The reflexes he’d honed from years of drills and training were unreal. But that didn’t make it any less fun.
He grabbed me around the waist, tossing me back on the bed. “Now, stay.” He dusted off his hands as if that was the end of it. As if I would just do exactly what he’d told me to.
Ha! As if.
If anything, his words made me even more determined to defy him. I’d never liked being told what to do.
When I moved to get up, Frasier pounced. He braced his body over mine, hands pressed to the mattress on either side of me. “Bryn,” he growled, breath coasting over my nose, my lips. Minty. Fresh. Warm. “Stay.”
My nipples tightened, cool air flowing across one of them and making me realize that my pjs had slid out of place, revealing my breast. Had Frasier noticed? The idea only made me hotter.
