Chapter Five
Icing the Competition
The first thing I notice when I walk into the locker room is the silence.
Not the comfortable kind that settles after a good practice, but the heavy, oppressive kind that means something's wrong.
Every head turns toward me, their expressions ranging from pity to awkward discomfort.
I'm about to ask what's going on when the door behind me swings open, and the atmosphere in the room instantly transforms. It's like watching a wave of electricity pulse through water.
I see every guy's attention shift from me to whoever just walked in.
I turn around and, holy shit, it's Regan Banks.
She stands there in the doorway of our testosterone-filled sanctuary like she owns the place, all five-foot-nine of her looking as if she just stepped off a runway instead of an ice rink.
The skirt she's wearing should be illegal in at least thirty states, barely covering what matters and hugging every curve.
Her heels add another three inches to her already impressive height, making her legs seem endless.
"Gentlemen," she says with the cool confidence that's made her famous in the women's ice-skating world. Her gaze swivels toward me. "There you are, Mr. Hannigan."
"Uh-huh. Here I am." I try to swallow, but my throat's gone as dry as Death Valley.
Her hair is splayed out over her shoulders, but I can't really focus on that fact for more than a second thanks to the way she's hoisted her tits up with the help of a sexy bra. The lacy material leaves very little to the imagination.
My dick is firming up little by little, and I'm having trouble pulling in a full breath. Fuck, I need to bang her for hours. Bang her like a lunatic.
Our team's best linebacker tosses a ball at me and smirks when I catch it without thinking about it. "Need to go home now, Mike?"
Yeah, he made the word "home" sound filthy.
I glare at him but can't quite muster the appropriate level of irritation. Not when I'm struggling to keep my thoughts clean because Regan is standing there looking like...that. "Shut up, Jimmy, and stop gaping at the figure skater."
Or her tits, that's what I'd love to say. I shift uncomfortably as my football pants become increasingly restrictive.
Regan lifts one perfect brow as a hint of amusement plays at the corners of her mouth. She knows exactly what she's doing to me and every guy in this locker room---and she's enjoying it.
"Is practice over?" she asks, leaning against the doorframe as she wriggles her bottom, making her skirt inch up a little more. Christ, that woman is a menace, the hottest kind, and I don't want these apes ogling her anymore. So, I cough into my fist. "Yeah, I'm done. Just finished."
"Well, that's perfect timing then." She smiles, and it's like someone cranked up the temperature in the room by twenty degrees.
Behind me, I hear Ernie clearing his throat. "You heard the lady, Mike. Practice is over." He leans in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Go have some fun. God knows you need it after the way Chandra dumped you."
I wish I could punch Ernie for reminding me of that. But even my favorite coach thinks I need to get laid pronto.
"Thanks for the permission, Coach," I mutter under my breath, grabbing my towel and slinging it over my shoulder. The guys are still staring at Regan like she's a steak dinner and they've been on a hunger strike for months.
"Quit acting so juvenile," I snap at my teammates.
Jimmy makes an exaggerated kissing sound. "Look at our boy, so territorial already."
"Fuck off," I growl, heading toward Regan.
She pushes away from the door with a graceful movement that makes my mouth go dry all over again. As I approach, her gaze drops briefly to my crotch before she turns her gaze upward to me with a knowing smirk.
"Ready to go?" she asks, her voice honey sweet.
I ignore her question, placing my hand on the small of her back to guide her out.
The heat of her skin radiates through the thin fabric of her top.
I need to concentrate on walking normally despite the uncomfortable tightness in my pants.
I hear whistles and catcalls from my teammates.
I flip them off as the door swings shut behind us.
But that only increases the volume of their laughter.
Leaning closer, I place my lips against her ear, speaking softly. "You know you could have texted me instead of walking into the lion's den like that."
Regan laughs. "Would I miss the chance to see twenty grown men forget how to speak? Not a chance, Hannigan."
As we walk down the corridor together, I can't resist sliding my hand down to her ass. I can feel the muscles shift beneath my palm with every step she takes in those ridiculous heels. Ridiculous hot heels. This girl seems determined to give me a heart attack.
"You did that on purpose," I accuse, but the roughness of my voice belies my statement. "That skirt should come with a warning label---flammable to all mankind."
"But not womankind, hm? Well, I've got my own warning." She winks. "Caution: May cause football players to malfunction."
"If I blow a gasket, it'll be your fault, Regan."
Her cheeks dimple in the cutest way. That makes me even hotter for her.
Once we reach the exit, I push the door open, letting in a wave of warm air.
I'm already overheated, thanks to Regan's lustful intentions.
Doesn't take a genius to figure out what she wants.
The sexy skater is hungry for the quarterback.
Nothing like that has ever happened to me before.
Regan steps outside and shivers slightly, which only makes her nipples stand at attention beneath that barely-there top.
"You're cold?" I suggest.
She shakes her head. "I'm shivering because I want you so badly."
God help me. How can I say no to that?
"Your car or mine?" she asks, but the look in her eyes tells me she already knows the answer.
My voice is as rough as gravel. "Mine. It's closer."
I guide her across the parking lot with my hand still firmly on her ass, not giving a shit who might see us. My teammates can talk all they want tomorrow. Right now, all I care about is getting Regan alone.
"You know," she says conversationally, as if her fingers aren't currently tracing patterns dangerously close to my waistband, "I only came to talk about the multi-sport charity event next week."
"Bullshit." I unlock my car with trembling fingers, and the beep of the locks disengaging sounds unnaturally loud in the empty parking lot. "You could've called about that."
Her lips curve into that wicked smile, the one that's driven me crazy since the moment I met her. "Maybe I wanted to see if the rumors about football players' stamina were true."
As soon as we reach my car, I spin her around and press her back against the passenger door. I seize her hands, finding her waist, and tug her hips against mine so she can feel exactly what she's been doing to me for the past fifteen minutes.
"Is this what you wanted?" I growl against her neck as my dick throbs.
"Hm, yes," she breathes, her pupils dilating. "I need to see you naked, Mike. Now. Please. Hurry."
No man could resist doing exactly what she wants. And my willpower just shattered.
Regan gasps while I grind against her, and she clutches at my shoulders with her nails digging in through my practice jersey.
The aroma of her lust fires me up even more.
I dip my head to capture her lips, swallowing whatever clever retort she was about to throw my way.
The kiss is hungry, desperate, all teeth and tongue as we devour each other against the side of my car.
She tastes like mint and smells like sin, and I'm already addicted.
"Get in the car, Regan." I rasp the words out between kisses. "Do it now or I'll fuck you up against the car door."
She wriggles provocatively, as if she's daring me to make good on that threat.
How could any man resist this woman? She's elegant and efficient on the ice but transforms into a wildcat when nobody else is around.
I need to be inside her, and all I can do now is rip the car door open and toss her onto the passenger seat.
While I fumble to get inside the vehicle, she's already shimming out of her panties.
Damn, the scent of her cream...it's making me drunk on lust, and my breathing has become ragged. I unzip my pants, shoving them down to my knees, and my rod springs free. That's one pressure removed.
Regan virtually flings herself onto my lap, straddling me while biting her lip. "Fuck me like crazy, Mike. Oh shit, please."
What else can I do? I clumsily cover myself with a condom, then pull her closer and thrust my dick into her sheath.