With a shake of his head, he wrapped his fingers round the handrails and swung out onto the concrete barn floor, his skates landing with an echoing click.
“I’m all ears, Mayhem.” He rolled toward me as he said it—seductively—only inches at a time.
I started backing up. “We shouldn’t do that anymore.”
He lifted his t-shirt and ran it over the beads of sweat running down his face and temples.
And holy fucking abs. Not bare abs either. He had grown-ass man abs. Sprinkled with hair, and in this case a damp trail shooting straight into the elastic waste of athletic shorts hanging low on his hips.
My sprinkler system was a finicky man. I tried not to squirm and failed miserably as I squeezed my thighs together.
“You sure? You don’t sound so sure,” he said quietly. His shoulders bunched and flexed as he continued to stalk me like prey.
“Yes—” My back hit the wall, giving me nowhere else to go, but he kept on coming, that deep dimple in his cheek I wanted to run my thumb over flirting with me the whole time. “It was great and all, but since we’re starting to train…”
“No kissing once training starts. Got it.” But he moved in even closer, his hands pressing flat against the wall on either side of my head.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my words thick and tight. His heat rolled over me and I fought the urge to rub up against him. Damp hair in spikes, skin still damp with sweat, I didn’t care. I wanted to lick him from head to toe like a fucking ice cream cone dripping in the ninety-degree heat. Lick, lick, lick, lick—and then bite into that creamy mass of deliciousness.
“Training hasn’t started yet,” he hummed, his voice low and hot.
My head thunked against the wood as I ran out of room to retreat. “But—”
He slanted his hungry mouth over mine. And just in case any part of me came to my senses, his palm slid over my hip, across my back, and straight up my spine, until his hand locked on the back of my neck, his long fingers threading through my hair under my bandana.
My duffel slipped from my fingertips and my hand curled into his damp T-shirt, twisting the cotton, pulling him in for more.
I had no fucking clue how I was going to stick to my own agreement. A blend of anger, surrender, and desperation—our kiss the other night wrung me inside out, leaving me vulnerable.
Today—this kindred craving we found in the last quiet breaths before our lips met would prove impossible to ignore.
And even harder to let go of when this was all over.
“I bet you kiss all the girls in this barn,” I murmured into his hot mouth—to reel him in, to reel me in, who knew…maybe both of us.
“I’ve never kissed anyone in this barn.”
Because this barn was his sanctuary and the track—his lover.
His tongue slid along mine and began its retreat—until I drew it back by sucking it between my teeth.
He growled then, with a roll of his hips grinding some seriously lengthy, hard dick against me, making my closed eyes rolled back in my head.
I bet he knew how to use every last inch of it.
“Mayhem?” he murmured against my mouth.
“Hmmm,” I said before sinking my teeth into his bottom lip.
He hissed and pressed his forehead to mine the minute I let his soft flesh go. “I want you to remember something.”
“Mmmhmmm,” I hummed as I scored my nails over his chest, eliciting a hungry sound from low in his throat.
“You said you trust your instincts about me. Just remember that,” he said, taking my hand and laying my palm against his thundering heart. His ragged breath brushed my cheek as his hot, dark eyes raked over me. “When we get started today. Remember…there’s a reason for everything.”
15
Fourteen pairs of eyes stared back at me from my very own infield. Their temperatures ranging from thoroughly kissed slow burn to ice age deep freeze.
Eve’s chilly mood came complete with ice balls lined with razor blades.
It’s almost as if she knew not twenty minutes ago I had her ex-girlfriend pinned to the barn wall, her lips under mine, every inch of her front pressed against every inch of mine—something neither of us were too thrilled at the idea of when I fixed her rib.
Jesus, what was I doing?
All of it. Really, what the hell was I doing?
I told myself I wouldn’t touch her today. I’d convinced myself that our kiss the other night had been a mistake. Nothing more than two frustrated and desperate people taking it out on one another—and scratching an itch while we were at it.
There was no point in going down this road with Mayhem because I had a job waiting in Boston.
And she had the world to save.
I wouldn’t stay.
And I wouldn’t ask her to leave.
The minute I tasted her in the shadows of her dark hallway, I wanted to taste her everywhere. I hadn’t gotten every hot breath, every moan, and every dig of her fingertips out of my head since.
Now I got to face the temptation for the next month, day in, day out, hour after hour, minute after agonizing minute.
As for Mayhem’s rule, it was a hell of a lot easier to follow with her team here. Really, I only had to stick to Mayhem’s rules for another hour, because then she’d be sticking it to me.
They had on their gear…knee pads, elbow pads, wristguards—everything other than their helmets and mouthguards—they stood ready to do this. At least physically.
But one thing I knew about this team from the one time I’d seen them in a bout. They push back when pushed.
They were going to need that.
And sometimes to their detriment. But we’d work on that.
Time to see if they had what it took to ride it out.
“Before we get started…” I glanced down at my notes. “I’ve got the information and format
