Why would he be talking about me with Kelli?
“I might be from New York, but I wasn’t cheering for the Storms.” She tapped her temple. “I was just running some numbers in my head, and it excites me when things balance.”
His grin widened, bringing those dimples into play. Dammit, she was so busted.
He arched a brow. “So this is you…excited?”
His warm breath fluttered over her face. “Yeah. This is me, excited.”
“Hmm.”
“What?”
“You’re not even smiling. I mean, most people smile when they’re excited, don’t they?”
“I’m smiling on the inside.”
“Right.” He glanced at the ice and then back at her.
“What?” She stared at him. She had no idea what was going through his head, but she’d grown up with three scheming brothers and knew when a plan was forming. What was he up to?
“How about a bet?”
“I don’t bet.”
His grin was slow, sexy…deliciously filthy. Enough already! “I think you’re going to want to take this one.”
Her body stiffened and she eyed him carefully. “Why?”
“If you don’t, word could get out that a Rays employee was in the skybox rooting for the other team.”
Her heart slammed. Bastard. “You wouldn’t.”
He held his hands out, palms toward her, the image of innocence when he said, “Hey, I’m not saying I would tell.”
She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “What do you want?”
“Bet me.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, that dirty, promising smile of his teasing her sex. “My team against yours.”
What the… Okay, she was pretty damn certain this exchange was sexual. But it didn’t make sense. She wasn’t even his type, and in all the times they crossed paths, he’d barely spoken to her.
“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked, needing clarification.
“If my team scores before overtime, I win, and you’re mine for the weekend.”
His for the weekend?
Her mind raced with hot, sexy images, like him holding her against the wall while he did depraved, corrupt things to her body. She swallowed. How tempting.
“And if I win?” she asked, sounding far more winded than she would have liked.
“Then I’m yours for the weekend. You can use me any way you want.”
“I do have a toilet that needs to be cleaned.”
He leaned into her and flashed her a feral, merciless smile as his gaze settled on her mouth. “Sure, but I’d rather fuck,” he said, his voice a devious hush orchestrated to fluster her.
Mission accomplished. His dirty words, ones that should have offended, spurred a need deep between her legs, and it was all she could do not to hand herself over to him, to let him own every inch of her for the weekend.
He wanted to fuck her? Seriously? She had to be hallucinating. This couldn’t be happening. Could it?
He looked her dead in the eyes. “Deal?”
She bit her lip before she hissed yes, please.
The clock was ticking down, and the only way she could lose was if the Rays suddenly scored, and no way in hell was that going to happen this late in the game.
Damn shame.
She nodded. “Fine. You’re on.”
They turned to watch the game, and she held her breath as the Rays made a play. Gaze riveted, she watched the action below, but it was hard to concentrate. With the puck in play, her lashes briefly fluttered shut, an attempt to wipe away the erotic visions still dancing in her mind’s eye. I’d rather fuck. When her eyes opened, the Rays’ defense sent the puck down the ice. Cheers erupted in the stadium as it crossed center ice. The Rays’ right wing snagged it and took a shot. It dented the top of the net, and bounced out. The goalie dived, but failed to stop the shot by the winger. He shoots. He scores. Pulling off a last minute win for the Rays—and for Linc.
“Oh my God,” she said, her words tumbling out on a whisper. “I can’t believe it.”
“How does seven sound?”
She turned to find him with an unapologetic and deadly grin on his face. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to smack, or kiss, it off.
“What?” she asked.
“Does seven work for you?”
“Seven?” she asked, her brain working hard to catch up.
“Do you like sushi?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Pack a bag. I’ll pick you up at seven, and we’ll start with sushi.”
Start? Wait. A bag?
“I’ll get your address from Kelli.”
“You’ll get what from me?” Kelli asked as she came back with two hot dogs—one half-eaten. When neither spoke, her gaze bobbed between the two. “Wait, what did I miss?”