Behind the Net (Vancouver Storm, #1)

by Stephanie Archer

Wow. Mr. Personality, right here. I swallow with difficulty. He’s so bossy. A shiver rolls over me, and my skin tingles. I bet he’s bossy in bed, too.

Same soft, musical voice that I’d strain to hear back in high school while she was talking and laughing with the other band kids.

I picture him physically removing me from his home, throwing me over his shoulder. A weird twinge hits me between the legs. Oh. I like that idea.

I really, really want to fuck my pretty assistant.

“That guy was never good enough for you. Not in high school and not now. I hope you fucking see that.”

“I thought you were gorgeous, too,” he murmurs, looking at me in a way that makes me feel like I can’t breathe. “Even back then.”

Footsteps make my eyes open. Jamie stalks toward me with a furious look on his face. “Wha—” I start. His eyes flash with heat. “That was fucking amazing.” His hand comes to the back of my neck and he drags my mouth to his.

“I’m your goalie,” he says. “I’ll block all your shots tonight.” A chuckle escapes me, and I smile at him. The corner of his mouth ticks up, and his eyes fill with affection. For a split second, I wish he’d kiss me again.

I miss the songbird.

All the blood in my body rushes to my cock. I didn’t beat the toy home. It got here before me, and my pretty assistant is currently using it in her bedroom.

I’m so fucking gone for this girl.

My song. The one I played for him and his manager. The one they laughed at. They said it wasn’t good enough before they took it.

wicked.

wicked

“Ride my hand, songbird. Ride it out.”

“Seeing you come is a dream, Pippa. I’m addicted to it.”

Oh, yeah. She’s getting a ring. A big one. Loud and flashy. Disgustingly over-the-top. She’ll hate it, I’m sure, but I want people seeing it from a mile away. From space. I want it to signal to everyone that she’s taken.

My Pippa. My distraction, the girl I’ve always been powerless against.

“I wanted to ask you to grad,”

“Back in high school.”

“I’d look for you at parties, Pippa. I went to all the band concerts just to watch you sing and play. I asked around about whether you and Zach were together, but no one knew. I thought there was a chance you were single, and I mustered up the courage to ask you to grad, and then I saw him holding your hand.”

“So, you love Pippa?”

“Yep. I love Pippa.” “And she loves you?” “Yep,”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and his jaw ticks again. He’s been acting weird all day. Nervous, a little jumpy. I scared the daylights out

“First,” he says, low enough so only we can hear, “you were the girl I had a crush on in high school. The girl who didn’t see how pretty, talented, special, and interesting she was.”

“There’s a new trade memo,”

“Rory Miller.”