Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
SINCLAIR
Chair feet scraped across the floor. They stopped right in front of my desk before someone plopped down on it and sat with his arms crossed on the top of my desk, body angled forward.
I recognised the tattoos on Coast's forearms, but continued to tap away at my laptop for another minute or two.
Finally, I closed my laptop and looked up at him.
"Did you want something?" Did he have to be so fucking good looking? Dirty blonde hair, blue green eyes, chiselled chin. When he smiled, dimples popped out in both cheeks.
He should be illegal. Instead, he was making my panties wet without saying a word.
"You and Javey can't happen," he said, unflinching.
I sat back in my chair. "Says who?" I couldn't decide if I was pissed off or not. That might depend on what he said in the next thirty seconds.
He cocked his head. "Says me. And the fact you hardly know the guy."
"I hardly know you either," I pointed out. "Why should what you say matter?"
He grinned. Yeah, there were those fucking dimples.
"First of all, I'm me," he said, as though that was self-evident. "Second of all, I wouldn't rule out the possibility of him being connected to some unsavoury types. Thirdly, the way he looks at you is borderline obsessive."
"No offence, but you being you doesn't inform my decisions," I said slowly. "Secondly, that's obvious because he associates with you and the other Demons."
He grinned broader. "Ouch."
I flashed him a quick smile. "Thirdly, maybe a girl wants a guy who's obsessed with her.
At least with a guy like that, I know where I stand.
" Was that healthy? Probably not. Did I give a shit?
Maybe a little. It was still better than mooning over someone who fucked a different puck bunny every night.
"That's an interesting take on it," he said. "The Demons weren't the unsavoury types I was referring to. Although, I conceded your point about them being dubious, especially me. If we weren't, they'd call us the Angels instead."
I laughed. "That would definitely be a misnomer."
"He told you, didn't he?" Coast frowned. "About his occasional affiliation with the Fiorelli family. You know they want me dead, right?"
"Yes. Yes. And to be fair, they'd probably be happy if we were all dead," I said. "But they do want some of us dead more than others." Before he could say anything to that, I added, "Javey isn't working with them against us."
"Are you sure about that?" I couldn't remember him looking serious before, but he did now. "Someone is."
"I know they are, and we'll find out who, but like you said, he's borderline obsessive. Would he do anything that would hurt me?"
"Depends what side of the border he ends up on." Coast shrugged. "I want you to be careful, okay? I like the guy, but I don't want you to get hurt."
"Why do you care?" I asked, more blunt than intended.
I probably imagined the tips of his ears turning pink. His bravado didn't slip for a moment.
"I wouldn't want to see any pretty girl get hurt." He leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head. "That would be a waste."
"Wouldn't want to damage a perfectly good pussy." How cynical did I sound? Cynical enough. "Or mouth."
"I'm starting to think you only perceive me as some kind of man whore," he said dryly.
I shrugged. "If the helmet fits."
He grunted softly. "That sounds like a challenge. Have dinner with me."
I blinked. I must have misheard.
"What did you say?"
"I said, have dinner with me," he repeated. "I'll prove to you there's more to me than just a dumbass, horny hockey player."
"I never said you were a dumbass," I pointed out.
He chuckled. "No, just the rest of it. Give me a chance to prove you wrong."
"Why?" I asked.
He leaned forward. "Because it'll be fun. What have you got to lose?"
Nothing, I supposed. Javey and I were nothing more than friends who spent the night together. I didn't belong to him. Someday, maybe, but not now.
"Fine, one dinner," I said. "We'll see if you prove me wrong or not."
"Great, I'll pick you up at six." He handed me his phone so I could enter my address and phone number.
Should I be pleased he didn't know my address already, or not? Did he know Javey did? That Javey had been to my place and watched me? Was that what this conversation was about?
I concluded it was more likely he didn't know. His warning wasn't that specific. Or maybe he didn't want to freak me out. Given what some of these guys got up to, stalking was probably a minor offence. Especially since Javey seemed to have no intention of harming me in any way.
I handed his phone back.
Coast tapped on the screen. A moment later, mine rang on my desk.
He smiled. "Just checking you gave me your real number."
"Does that happen often?" I asked. "Women give you a fake number?"
"More often than I'd like to admit," he said. "Most don't want more than a casual hook up. Sometimes being me is a real beach."
I rolled my eyes playfully at his pun. "I'm sure it is."
"At least they all get wet," he continued. "Right before they…wave goodbye."
I snorted. I wouldn't make fun of his name, but it was cute that he did. He didn't take himself too seriously.
"I should warn you though." He rested his arms on my desk again. "One date with me and you might be caught in a rip. My current can get very strong."
"I'm a good swimmer," I said. "I used to surf. I can still take on a six foot swell."
He grinned and glanced down at his groin. "I don't need to brag, I have you to do it for me."
I laughed. "I was talking about your height, but if you want to think I was suggesting your cock is six feet long, go ahead. You'd be dragging it around the ice if it was."
"What if I told you it's not always my hockey stick I'm using to hit the puck?" His eyes twinkled with amusement.
"I'd suggest you're cheating and kicking it along with your skate," I replied. "But I know you wouldn't cheat. You're not that kind of guy."
"Aren't I?" He cocked his head at me. "What kind of guy am I? Apart from a horny hockey player."
"You said it yourself, you like a challenge," I said. "Where's the challenge if you're not fighting to win? Isn't it better to know you earned every goal? Every win? Besides, if you cheated, you'd get kicked off the team."
Or end up in a shallow grave.
"Accurate on every point," he said. "I love a good, hard victory. Working up a sweat and pounding your opponent." His eyes were locked on mine.
His innuendos were making it hot in here. I was trying very hard not to picture him on his back, while I rode him relentlessly. Even if he didn't have six feet in his pants, I was sure what he had was substantial. He didn't seem like the type of guy to overcompensate.
"I see you're feeling what I'm feeling," he said. Yeah, he was smug when he said it.
Coast Riggs would never not be cocky as fuck. Unfortunately for me and women everywhere, it was part of his charm.
"In need of more coffee?" I suggested. "That's more or less a permanent state of mind for me and most of the people here."
I gestured with one hand around the office. PR and marketing shared one big office. The Demons' logo adorned the largest wall, and the door leading out into the arena.
Desks were separated by partitions, most covered in information like the season schedule, the Secret Santa sign up information from two years ago and a collection of random puppy photos.
Every so often, the office manager came through and pulled down old information, but until then it gathered, layer over layer.
"Maybe you should try decaf?" he suggested.
"Maybe you should wash your mouth out with soap," I teased. "We don't tolerate profanity like that in here."
He laughed. "What do you tolerate?" He slid around closer and spoke in my ear. "If I sat you down on your desk and ate you for lunch, would they tolerate that?"
Holy fuck.
I swallowed. "They might want you to feast on them too."
"I only want to feast on you," he said.
Before I could respond to that, he was on his feet and pushing the chair back where he found it.
"I'll see you at six." He winked before strolling out of the office like he hadn't left me in a virtual puddle on my chair.