Ice Contact (Milwaukee Steel Riders #1)

25. Hayes

25

hayes

I ’m dead. I’m done for. I officially have died and gone to Olivia Brooks heaven. My siren is here, in my bed, and a missing puzzle piece has finally snapped into place. Someone is going to have to pry me off her because she’s become a life force I can’t live without. I want to sink into her every night and wake up to her every morning. I want her in my jersey, in the stands, at every game I play. I want her. Except my fucking idiot stomach is growling, begging me for actual food. Although, I’m not complaining about having dessert before dinner.

“Join me in the kitchen for a little after-sex snack?”

“After sex-snacks? You might actually be the whole package,” she says.

“Drink it in, siren. Drink. It. In.”

Getting out of bed, we throw some clothes on and head to the kitchen. She looks adorable in nothing but my Riders t-shirt as she pads barefoot across the hardwood floor, completely at ease in my space. She snoops around my home, peaking in boxes I’ve yet to unpack as I grab some carrots, hummus, and pita chips, swiping a few bottled waters as well.

For someone who is only five-feet tall, she has legs that go for days. I am a leg man, and Olivia’s legs…dear God, they are sexy-as-fuck. Tits are a wonderful, fantastic part of the female anatomy, ones I immensely enjoy. But a woman with killer legs is my weakness. Knowing they lead straight to the promised land makes my dick swell faster than my slapshot. Seeing Olivia prance around my apartment already has me standing at half-mast.

“Do you workout a lot?” I ask, unashamedly staring at the lower half of her frame.

“Not religiously,” she says, crunching on a carrot. “And nothing compared to how much you workout. I like to lift weights, sometimes, and I have a spin bike at home. But, honestly, it’s hit or miss. Totally depends on my mood and how absorbed I am in my music. I should be more diligent about it. Working out always makes me feel good, but it’s getting motivated to do it that is tough.”

“No judgement here. I get paid to workout, so that’s my motivation,” I say, getting a laugh from her. “I was mainly asking because your calves are amazing. Do you do some special calf workout? As someone who’s in the gym every day, I must say, I’m fascinated by your leg muscles. Honestly, I need your routine. Some of the guys on the team desperately need your secret.”

Olivia lets out a roaring laugh. It’s always sudden like a firecracker. Her eyes crinkle in the corners, and her head falls back to look at the ceiling as if she’s sharing an inside joke with someone above. I could listen to that laugh all day long.

“You know, it’s funny, people comment on my calves all the time, but I’ve never specifically trained them. Ever. ” She scoffs, her brow lifting high in amusement. “Don’t think I didn’t catch you staring. Want to know my secret?”

Guess the jig is up. I smile deviously at her. “I’m a sucker for a nice pair of legs Olivia, and yours are…they are….” I swallow hard unable to form words. “Okay, just tell me already.”

“It’s stilettos. I wear heels to work every day. Swear to God, that’s how I have calves of steel. You’d be surprised at how many comments I get. It’s only weird when it’s creepy old dudes, but they usually leave me alone if I just smile and walk away.”

Fire burns inside my chest at the thought of anyone but me catching even a glance of those perfect legs. I set my water down on the counter and take a possessive step toward her. “I don’t want anyone looking anywhere near your legs,” I say a little sterner than I mean to.

She hums, sucking her teeth with a smirk. “You jealous Hayesy-poo? Think some creepy old dude is gonna come sweep me off my feet while you’re out of town this week?” she teases, playfully poking me in the chest with her finger. She leans in close, teasing me with a look of pure need and desire, before pulling away with a loud crunch of her carrot. Her bratty tone gets under my skin, my dick twitching to show her how she’s driving me crazy.

And she knows it.

I groan, glancing around for something to throw over her legs. “Can you just wear pants this week while I’m away? Maybe turtlenecks too…none of those v-neck shirts like you wore today. I will not be held responsible for my actions if someone sneaks a peek down your cleavage.”

“Oh? And were you peeking down my shirt today?”

“Nope! Not me. I would never do that.” I trace an X over my chest before holding my hands up and taking a small step back. “I was a complete gentleman. Even when you were jumping up and down and basically shoving your tits in my face after you destroyed me in skeeball, I kept my eyes toward the sky.” She laughs again. “However, I am concerned about the ‘creepy old dudes’ you mentioned trying to sneak a peek.”

“How about I rent a nun costume for the week?”

“You would do that for me? I mean, we could call around and see if there’s one available.” I smirk, seeing her playful punch start to head my way. I’m onto her little trick now . I easily grab her hand pulling her into me. “My, my, Olivia. Always so violent. I may need to tie you down to protect myself.”

“I’m violent?” She scoffs, her eyebrows raised. “You play one of the most violent sports in the history of sports.”

“Well…true,” I laugh, backing her against the counter.

“How do you always know when I’m about to punch your arm?”

“Olivia, my literal job is learning to anticipate other people’s movements.”

“Well, shit…I need to come up with some new moves. I bet I can think of something you won’t see coming.”

I flash her a devilish grin. “Speaking of bets, Olivia, we still haven’t discussed your punishment yet,” I tease, and the desire in her eyes tells me all I need to know.

I think Olivia might enjoy a little punishment.

Good, little siren, me too.