“Of course. Had to know who was drafted with me.”
“Who was draftedbeforeyou.”
“It’s just five picks,” he points out, and I cross my arms over my chest in defiance.
“It’s just three inches.”
I meant the height difference—because obviously I know his stats by heart, too—but the moment those words leave my mouth, a smirk forms on his lips.
“Oh, you should know it’s more than just three inches.”
My cheeks burn with a flare of embarrassment, unwanted memories flooding my mind. He definitely didn’t feel like three inches when I swallowed him down my throat. I feel light headed as I take a step toward him, the snow crunching softly under my boots.
“Not how I remember it,” I lie, my words hushed. I’m suddenly aware of the loneliness of this place, the forest swallowing the sounds around us, enclosing us in our own sphere.
“Is that so?” Hart tilts his head at me, his grin broadening now. “Maybe I need to remind you then.”
Despite the heat in my stomach, I shudder, the reactions of my body just as torn as my mind. My thoughts are racing, desperately searching for a witty comeback, but all I get are glimpses of our clash in the locker room. The way his hot flesh felt in my mouth, the heady smell of his balls when I buried my nose against them.
I swallow thickly, taking a step back again. I need to get away from this guy before I do something really dumb.
“I–” I start, just to get cut off the next second when Hart crosses the distance between us with two long strides.
One moment he’s staring at me, the intensity of his gaze freezing me to the spot, the next he’s on me. Grabbing my face with both hands, he slams our mouths together with such ferocity, I’m not sure if he meant to kiss or punch me.
I’m dead set on pushing him away, but when his teeth bite into my bottom lip, I open up on instinct. There’s still a hint of ginger and cinnamon lingering in his mouth, luring me in. I drop Coach’s sticks to wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer as our tongues brush, battling each other for dominance. If I can’t resist, I want to come out on top at least.
He’s walking me backward, and I reluctantly comply as I reinforce my hold on him. If he tries to push me down the slope I’ll drag him down with me.
My back bumps against a broad trunk, and Hart drops his hands from my jaw. Our mouths are still smashed together when he grabs for my thighs. He guides one leg up his hip, then lifts me like I’m not a fully grown hockey player.
I yelp in surprise, but the sound gets lost in another kiss; Hart presses closer now, sandwiching me between the tree and his chest.
“If you drop me, I’ll kill you,” I huff when we finally break apart for air.
“Don’t worry, I also have twenty-five pounds on you.” Hart’s words are muffled as he’s nosing against my throat, the soft touch causing my eyelids to flutter closed.
“Yes, but not in muscle,” I clarify, my fingers pinching his stomach through the coat and he groans.
“What do I have to do to shut you up?”
Coach takes this moment to answer for both of us as he emerges from the brush again, barking happily.
Hart looks momentarily worried, both hands raised when Coach rushes to our sides, jumping up.
“I didn’t intend to drop him. He’d never quit bitching,” he tells the dog seriously, and I snort.
“He thinks he was missing out on play time. Now put me down, idiot.”
“Oh. Well. He kinda was.”
I shoot Hart a warning look when he lowers me to the ground again, shoving against his chest. My cheeks burn with heat, and I uncomfortably rub my neck with one hand.
Coach has quieted down again, sitting and panting as he regards us with his head tilted. The silence is stretching between us like old gum stuck to a shoe.
I take a deep breath and jam both hands into the pockets of my jacket. “So. We should probably walk back.”
There’s another pause, then Hart agrees with a nod. “Definitely. Coach looks exhausted.”
