I’m terrified that if I open my mouth, I’ll offer myself to him on a damn silver platter.
2
DALTYN
I blame Peyton’s shoes for all the chaos that’s unfolded.
They really do make her feet look even more beautiful, and feet aren’t something I usually notice on women.
I tried to warn her this morning when she stepped out of her hotel room that those shoes were dangerous. She perceived it as a warning that they were impractical, which they are. Especially for an airport.
But that’s not what I meant when I said “dangerous.” Those damn things make her legs look a mile long, and I couldn’t help but notice the way her tight jeans clung to every curve.
Especially her ass.
Luckily, she was too busy ranting about losing everything—and only having one nice pair of sandals—to notice I was goddamn drooling over her.
I may have puck bunnies throwing themselves at me on and off-season, but I remain immune to their charms. I’m focused on my career.
More importantly, I don’t get involved.
My past won’t allow it.
I glance over at Peyton, thinking about how we met.
After rescuing Peyton Sinclair from her ex—and a rival hockey team player—in Vegas, I was only trying to ensure she got back to her room safely.
But the elevator had other plans.
The thing started moving, made a noise, and shook just enough to terrify Peyton. She grabbed me, clinging like a vine, seconds before the power went out.
Her panicky breaths filled the small space, and I knew what was happening. She was having a panic attack.
I focused on calming her, keeping my grip steady and my touch soothing.
When the lights came back on, she was much calmer.
When the elevator started moving, she looked at me with gratitude... then promptly pulled me in and kissed the hell out of me.
I’ve been kissed before. Plenty of times. An aversion to relationships doesn’t mean I don’t have sex.
But that kiss was like nothing I’d ever experienced before.
After being stunned for a few seconds, instinct took over. I pinned her between the elevator wall and my body, devouring her mouth like a starving animal.
And she matched me in intensity.
The ping of the elevator brought me back to earth.
She and I broke apart seconds before the doors started to open.
Peyton shot out the doors before I knew what happened, running away like a frightened deer.
I was paralyzed, remaining on the elevator until it reached the next floor.
Then I got off and headed back to her floor,on a mission to find her.
But I was intercepted by my teammates, who dragged me back downstairs to the bar. Ford’s unhinged Gram somehow got behind the counter and was pouring drinks that were probably illegal in most states, which was a bit concerning and a lot distracting.
