Yes. Yes, it really would. What the fuck am I thinking? I’m not. My dick is. It would totally fuck the team if we slept together. He’d never even kissed a man before tonight. What if he freaks out?
What if he doesn’t,my mind taunts.You’d be his first. Oh, my dick likes that.
I am not getting anywhere with the conversation I’m having in my head.
Pro-con list time.
Cons: It could go very badly. He freaks out mid hook up. Or it’s just bad sex. All of which would lead to an extremely awkward tomorrow. Make our game even worse. He could catch feelings, and then I’d be stuck in a shitty spot. I don’t do feelings, and we can’t exactly hide from each other being teammates. The organization could find out. Granted, the chance of that is probably slim-to-none if this is a one and done thing. Still, a risk. What if our vibes are different in the locker room after? Olander and Devcould pick up on it. I can handle their shit, but can Michaels? He could end up outed.
Okay. That’s a lot of bad shit. Time for the pros.
Pros: Shared orgasms with a hot guy.
I rattle my brain for more. I come up empty.
A brick of disappointment sinks in my gut. I already knew what the right choice was. I glance over at Michaels. He’s staring straight out of the windshield. I can’t read him. I quickly turn my attention back to the road. I want what he’s offering—whatever that ends up being. But it doesn’t matter. Now that there’s blood fueling my brain again, something very unfortunate has returned. Logic. Whatever could happen between us would be a horrible idea.
I’ve always known that. But it was a hell of a lot easier to accept when he wasn’t an option.
I pull into the parking garage of my apartment and round the building until I get to my spot. Shane’s obnoxious-orange Jeep is a few spaces down in one of the visitor spots. Perfect. Time to send Mr. Sunshine and Smiles home.
I hop out without a word and walk over to his car, leaving plenty of space for him to get inside. He watches me as he approaches, then leans against his driver’s side door.
“Go home, Michaels,” I murmur. “This isn’t a game you want to play. We did what Coach wanted. We got to know each other a little better, and you’re not half as bad as I thought you were.” I inject some teasing into my tone.
He doesn’t say anything, just stares unsmiling with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Hopefully it’ll help us get out of our funk. This night needs to end here.”
It takes everything in me not to shift on my feet. It’s…unnerving…a serious Shane Michaels. A silent Shane Michaels.
When it seems clear he’s not going to say anything, I turn and head for my apartment. It doesn’t matter that I want him to follow me, that I want to invite him upstairs.
I know the sex would be hot-as-fuck, and my dick is trying to remind me of the fact. But you don’t have sex with a teammate, regardless of how hot it’d be.
“Jed.”
My name echoes through the parking garage. I slowly turn to face Michaels.
“Do you want the night to end here?”
I open my mouth; theyesis right there. But it won’t come.
I snap my mouth closed and spin on my heel, his “That’s what I thought,” chasing me up the stairs.
EIGHTEEN
SHANE
Those wide shouldersdisappear from view. He wore a worn leather jacket tonight. I didn’t know I was into that, but, yeah, broody tattooed men in leather? Count me in.
My fingers feather over my lips, my cheeks, my chin. I kisseda mantonight. Can still feel the burn of his stubble tingling on my skin. It was different…and the same. The want, the electricity that only a first kiss can bring, was all there. The swoop in my gut. The way I thought I’d lit a set of Roman candles in my chest. Those are all things I’ve felt from a kiss before.
Which brings us to the differences. I’ve been with some pretty in-charge women before, but they’re nothing compared to Jed’s power pressing into me. I was startlingly aware of his size, his strength. Every one of my senses was heightened, like I’d just drunk a 5-hour energy shot. The scrape of his trimmed beard. His masculine, earthy scent—cedar? Cinnamon? Lumberjack? He smelled like lumberjack. Is that a thing?
I pull on my bottom lip. Urgh. And the way he tasted.My eyes flutter shut. He tasted like dominance. Like confidence. Like a man who knows who he is, knows he’s hot shit, but isn’t overly cocky about it.
Oh, and the fact that there was a dick not my own in the equation. That was different. My legs shake, and my hands shoot to the smooth, cool paint of my Jeep. My fingers flex, desperately trying to make my world stop spinning. But it won’t. Because feeling him hard and grinding into my hip was such a fucking high. Every fantasy I’ve ever had since I discovered this new part of myself flew through my mind. I was seconds away from asking him if there was somewhere we could slip off to when he started questioning whether I was drunk.
