Body Check (Blades Hockey, #4)

by Maria Luis

“Tell me, Holls . . . did you wear this dress because you wanted me to spend the next hour admiring you in it?” I finger the thin strap that encircles her neck and dips down to her back, not missing the sharp lift of her shoulders as I play. “Or did you wear it because you wanted me to strip you naked?” “Neither.” Just like that, my limbs lock in place. I want what she wants, and I would never, ever push her past that. This woman . . . fuck, she means so much to me—more than she’ll probably ever realize—and I could never, in good conscious, take what she’s not offering. Even if it feels as though she’s just made a slapshot to my groin. Slowly, as not to spook her, I pull away. Keep it together, man. Don’t let her see how much you want this. Her small fingers wrapping around my wrist keep me in place, and her breathy voice damn-near makes me lose my mind. “I said neither, Jackson, because I don’t want to sit here and objectively be admired.” She tugs my hand until it’s gripping her hip, my fingers splayed along the upper curve of her ass. I suck in a deep breath. She smiles, then, and it’s pure seduction. It slays me with its flirtatiousness. Sabotages every hope that I’ve got still kicking around to do the gentlemanly thing and leave her be—to not drudge up all our old wounds and heartaches and all the damn love, simply so I can feel her against me again. When she speaks, it’s nothing but a purr that sets my skin aflame. “I didn’t wear it because I wanted to see it slung a...