Page 114 of Hard to Handle

“So I’ve heard.” She nods.

“And you? Do you drop the ball?”

The slow run of her tongue over her bottom lip and the devious look in her eyes tells me exactly what she’s thinking about. How the last time we saw each other, her lips were wrapped around my cock as her fingers gripped pleasurably firm around my balls.

“If you have to ask, Maddox, then I’m doing things all wrong.” Her voice is liquid sex, the smile that crawls over her lips not far from it either.

I groan in response.

“You win tonight and we’ll see if I drop the balls again or not.”

“We’ll win. No worries there. And I’ll be the judge of your grip.” I glance over my shoulder and lift a hand to Katz as he walks into the arena. “Hey Dekk?”

“Hmm?”

I take a step forward and lean in. “I never brought up the agent thing because you said it was either one or the other. You as mine or you as my agent. I’m not sure if that’s still true.”

“Oh.” Her lips shock in an O, and I take the chance to steal a quick kiss before taking a step back and smiling.

“Thanks for coming.” I wink. “I’ve got to go.”

“Good luck,” she says as I start walking away. “Hey, Cap?”

“Yeah?” I turn back to give her one more glance.

“Take a moment and let it all sink in. It’ll go by in a flash, and I want you to remember it.”

I nod and turn back toward the door.

“Stick, skill, finesse, Maddox.”

I throw my head back and laugh.

* * *

Nerves rattle and I’m never nervous.

Sticks tap on the ice—the only kind of clapping we can hear while we’re in the zone, and yet right now I hear everything.

The crowd.

The buzz.

I look up into the stands and see the people. The little kids wanting to be in my skates someday. The dads with their daughters teaching them the ins and outs of the game. The college frat boys needing an excuse to get drunk and heckle a player. The families wanting to be entertained.

I take it all in.

The sounds, the sights, the excitement.

This is for you, Jonah. And for once, I can see your smile.

I’m going to make you proud.

So maybe . . . maybe, this is for us.

CHAPTER SIXTY

DEKKER