I raise my bottle to him. “Not yet, I still have half a cider to drink.”
He made me wait, ignoring the five-alarm fire in my undies is proving harder now that he’s standingright therebut I swallow down the lust with a glug of cider and throw him a casual smile.
“Sorry for keeping you.” He kisses me again. “I felt like I should say a few words on the record. Everyone’s been so nice and supportive since my injury, and everything that’s followed. Marshall was back there.” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder.
“And he asked you for an interview?”
Tate scrubs his chin with his hand, shaking his head. “No. But I guess I had some things I wanted to say.”
My chin quivers, but I manage to keep my brewing grief and pride under wraps. “Then I’m glad you did.” I kiss him gently on the lips.
“Are you finished with your friends?” He gestures to the three women who couldn’t be further from friend status right now.
Without checking with them, I nod. “You want a drink?”
The only answer I get is a waggle of his eyebrows which makes me cough on my next mouthful of cider.
A light touch on my free hand pulls me out of my spluttering fit.
“I’m sorry.” It’s the woman with the heavy makeup on her face.
“Do better. Women have enough problems in the world without facing each other too.” I manage.
She nibbles on her lip before nodding and following her friends away from where we’re standing.
“Wanna tell me what that was about?” Tate brushes his nose along the length of my jaw.
“Nope, thought you wanted to enter the Queendom.”
He licks his lips. “You said ‘destroy’ wrong.” His grin is wolfish, and almost enough to make my underwear combust. “Here are your options. Either I drag you into the bathroomsand fuck you right here, we head to the hockey house and I fuck you there, or you torment me all the way to my parents’ house and my balls explode.”
“I’m done with my drink.” I place the bottle on a tall table within reach.
“That’s what I thought.”
Tapping my finger on my chin, I take my time answering.
“Pitstop, I swear. I’m going to blow my load right here in this bar with that shirt draped on your fucking body. Make a decision, or we’re going to have a few hundred casual observers watching me take you to pound town.”
I splay my hand on my chest. “Awwww. And they say romance is dead.” I add an eye roll for good measure.
“Woman.” The feral snarl in his voice makes my nipples pucker, but I’m not going to admit it. Watching him unravel on a cellular level is fucking delightful. How far can I push him?
Turns out, not far. He leads me out into the parking lot by the elbow, literally growling at anyone who so much as steps in his path. It’s sexy as hell. All he’s going to have to do is blow on my clit, and I’ll fall apart for him.
It takes us less than five minutes to get to the hockey house, and when he bursts through the door, I stutter to a stop behind him. The coffee table in the main foyer where they all toss their keys and shit is covered in tiny little colored plastic ducks.
“We’re going to be finding those little fuckers for eternity, you know that, right?”
My giggle is bone-deep and filled with satisfaction. “I do. And then some. Best prank ever.”
“We’ll see.” He pauses. “But I admit, it wasn’t bad. The guys are loving growing their flock. Rico came running out of the shower ass-naked, still lathered up with two he found in there. It’s turned into a whole thing.”
“Sad I wasn’t here for that.”
He spins so fast his feet squeak on the tiled floor. “Don’t. Don’t even joke. My balls are so tight, my dick is so hard, and I’m shaking with need to come inside you. Don’t even joke about seeing another man naked, She Devil. It’s just going to make me own you even harder.”
Getting upstairs and mostly stripped off—he won’t let me take off my Raccoon’s shirt—in record time leaves me gasping, but watching Tate watch me steals my breath away. The awe on his face as he rakes his eyes over my naked body makes me feel... treasured.
