Page 47 of Body Check

“Have a good night, Tim,” I say, patting his shoulder as we pass.

The guard behind the desk, Paul, opens the residents’ only door for us. I nod at him when we pass through, and then wave my fob at the elevator bay.

“You have a lot of security,” Amelia comments.

“It’s one reason so many of the players live here. We don’t have to worry.” As the elevator doors open and I punch the button for the nineteenth floor, I add, “Don’t you have just as much security?”

“Yeah, but I’m nobody. It’s all for Brandon.”

I shrug. “Sure, but you get the benefits.”

She turns to me, crossing her arms over her chest. “Do you really want to talk about my brother right now?”

The elevator doors open on my floor. “Not really.”

My apartment is at the end of the hall. Opening the door, I usher her inside.

She unbuttons her coat, looking around the place curiously. I take it in with fresh eyes, the leather sofa and bare, off-white walls.

“What do you think?”

Across the way, her apartment is dark. There’s no sign of her brothers.

“Looks different from this angle.” She tosses her coat against the armchair. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Yeah, anything.” Fuck, did my voice come out as breathless as it felt? What is she doing to me?

Amelia grins. “Close the blinds.”

Crossing the room, I do as she requested.

She stalks across the room, her steps sure as she approaches me. I turn around right when she reaches me, and before I know it, her mouth is on mine.

She tastes like lemonade and sunshine, her lips yielding under mine. Electricity simmers beneath my skin, ready to overtake me.

I don’t have any answers. I don’t know what this is, or what it could be. Whether either of us are ready for it. All I know is, she’s the only thing on my mind, and not a day goes by that I don’t want more. Crave more. Need more.

One time with Amelia wasn’t enough. A second hit won’t quell the fire burning inside me. I’ll need her all the time, and I don’t ever want to stop.

She tugs at the hem of my T-shirt, and I break the kiss to pull it off, tossing the cotton behind me. When I go to kiss her again, she pulls back, her hand landing on my chest.

“I didn’t get to look before,” she says, her palm skating over my pec. My skin erupts with goosebumps, the feeling of her skin on mine sending dangerous thoughts through my head.

Want. Need. Claim.

Her fingertips trail down my abs, brushing over the bruise on my obliques, and she drags her nails through the coarse hair covering my belly. Does she like it? I overheard her and Andrews talking about body hair, but not enough to know her preference. Should I have shaved it off? Waxed?

Whatever she wants, I’ll do it. All she has to do is look at me with those big, brown doe eyes, and I’m putty for her.

Amelia reaches for my belt, making quick work of the leather, and pulling it free. She wraps the strap around her fist, and my cock jerks so fast, it makes me dizzy.

I’ve always been the assertive one. I’ve always been in charge. In hockey, in relationships, I’ve always had control because there’s never been anyone I trusted enough to let go with.

But when she hooks a finger in the waistband of my jeans and tugs me forward, I’m powerless for the first time, and I fucking love it. She walks backwards until the back of her legs hit the couch, and then she twists and pushes me down.

I reach for her, with intent to pulling her onto my lap, but she has other ideas.

“No touching,” she says, her eyes bright.