AllFreeNovel
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“It’s just that my older brother played professional hockey.”
“Like hockey on TV?”
“Yep. The last team he played for was the Charleston Coyotes.”
“That’s crazy. Your family hit the gene pool lottery.”
Taking hold of my hand, as if it’s the most natural thing, he leads me through the space to the kitchen, then immediately lets go of me. “I need to get the ice cream out of the freezer.”
“Anything I can do to help?” I ask.
“If you want bananas on your sundae, you can slice them up.”
“Bananas? If I’m going to splurge on dessert, I don’t want any healthy ingredients in there.”
He laughs, setting down two gallons of ice cream on the island. He peels open the covers and inserts a large spoon in each one. “Ladies first, and no holding back.”
I’m not about to let the fact that I’m around a hot guy keep me from eating ice cream. Grabbing a bowl, I add one scoop of chocolate and two of vanilla. Moving along in front of the island, I check out all the toppings he’s laid out. I add crushed oreos, sprinkles, caramel, and hot fudge. I’m looking for the whipped cream when he comes up beside me.
“Want some?” he asks, shaking the can.
“Yes, please.” I push my bowl his way.
He shakes his head. “Open up.” It takes a second for his meaning to register, and the challenging smirk he’s wearing has me reacting before I can caution myself. Tipping my head back, I open my mouth. He aims the nozzle and fires a shot of whippedcream between my lips before turning it toward himself and doing the same.
“Mmm, that’s good shit,” he says.
I nod. “It is.”
He raises one dark eyebrow. “One more?” I open my mouth, and I’m reminded of a baby bird waiting for its mother to feed it. His finger presses down on the nozzle, but this time he doesn’t immediately let up. And when he does, my mouth is filled to overflowing.
An alarmed sound slips from me as I close my lips and swallow down the sweet cream. I can feel that remnants of it have escaped my mouth, and I laugh.
He snickers, placing the can down on the island. “Let me help.” His hands cup my cheeks, tipping my face upward. “Looks like I got a little carried away.”
My eyebrows pop up. “You think?”
“Hey, I made you laugh, didn’t I?” Curious to find out how much of a mess I am, I lift my hand toward my face. “No, don’t.” He stops me. “I’ll get it.” Leaning forward, he presses his lips to the corner of my mouth. My fingers grip his arms, curling into his flesh, as he gently licks the whipped cream away. His lips feather across mine to the other side in the barest whisper of a kiss. The tip of his warm tongue swipes up any remaining whipped cream. When he draws back, he’s smiling down at me. “That’s better.”
Better?I was expecting him to use the sweet confection as an excuse to kiss me, not lick my lips until my knees were weak. And even though it’s for the best that he didn’t kiss me, I can’t help wishing he did. I’m a bit annoyed at how unmoved he seems by the situation, and also mad at myself for wanting more. But there’s no reason he needs to know how affected I am.
“It’s sundae time,” I announce. Picking up my spoon, I scoop some ice cream into my mouth. “Mmm.”
“You need whipped cream,” he says, picking up the can once more. I take a step backward, removing myself from the vicinity, as he squirts a squiggly line on top of my sundae. “Good?” he asks.
I nod. “Perfect.” When he turns to focus on the contents of his bowl, I study him. He has tattoos on his right wrist that are capped off with two black bands around his lower forearm. The gray t-shirt is too loose to show off his abs, but it hugs his chest and shoulders nicely. Like most quarterbacks, he’s tall and fit. His muscles are long, lean, and defined. On a scale of one to ten for looks, he blows the freaking scale away.
When he picks up the can to add whipped cream to his sundae, I take it as a cue to stop checking him out before he catches me in the act.
“Let’s go sit out back,” he suggests.
“Sounds good.” I follow him to a large screened porch. There’s a lit candle giving off a soft vanilla scent, and the wicker furniture is padded with thick navy-blue cushions. String lights around the edge of the ceiling brighten the space “This is awesome.”
“Thanks. It’s my favorite room.” He gestures for me to sit. I choose the couch, and he drops down next to me.
“Did you add this porch or was it here?”
“I had it built. I figured if I’m living this close to the ocean, I want to be able to sit outside at night and breathe in that fresh, salty air without getting eaten alive by mosquitoes.”
