Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Her bottom lip pinkens even deeper as she digs her teeth into it.
It’s not the first time a woman has stared at me like that, and I’d be willing to wager my penthouse in Manhattan it won’t be the last. Comes with the territory. Pro athlete. Celebrity, which I fucking hate. More money than I can spend in two lifetimes. Other than me being an athlete with enough to give my kid the life I didn’t have, the rest is meaningless.
The goal wasn’t to become famous. It was to become a legend. I want my name carved into the Hockey Hall of Fame next to the best that ever played the sport. Gretzky. Lemieux, Gordie Howe, Orr—and Sutton. Most valuable player seven times in my career has put me on track, and I won’t accept anything less.
Hitting a genetic goldmine as GQ and People’s “Sexiest Man Alive”—three different years—is a bonus.
Her gaze lingers, making me think she’s not as innocent as she portrays. “Not sure if you knew, Ms. Season, but my eyes aren’t down there.”
I’m hit with a glare, though I have a feeling it’s not as hard as she probably thinks it is. With a tilt of her head that leaves her ponytail swinging to the right, she blinks twice. “I’m well aware of where your eyes are located, Mr. Sutton.”
“You sure about that?”
“Absolutely, thank you very much.” By the hoity-toity tone, the lady doesn’t like to be called out. I don’t blame her, but I’m enjoying this little kitten trying to work herself into a panther. And failing. She’ll need sharper claws for that.
“You’re welcome.”
The slightest of eyerolls is given before she asks, “Why do you say that?”
I feign innocence. “Do I say it that much?”
“Yes, you do. I wasn’t really thanking you, and you claimed it like I was.”
“Does that bother you?” I tease. She’s too much fun to play with, and I can’t help myself.
She scoffs, but I catch the smile burgeoning at the corners of her mouth. “It bothers me that you answer with questions redirected at me like we’re in therapy.” She pokes my chest as she enters the place like she owns it. “News flash, we’re not.”
We may not be, but now watching the sway of her ass, it was worth irritating her. She walks with such purpose that following her inside is the only option. Stopping shy of the kitchen, she turns around fast like there’s something she needs to confront. Or someone.
Me? I grin in anticipation, but instead of words hitting me, her eyes land solidly on my hardest muscles and take in the view. Definitely me.
“If my being shirtless is too big a distraction—”
“What?” she stammers as her gaze tries to find a safe place to travel that’s not on my body. The lamp, the window, the couch, the rug, her sneakers. “I hadn’t even noticed.” Her shoulders pop the slightest of shrugs, confirming she doesn’t believe her own words.
“It was pointless to get dressed—”
“You’re fine.” She sighs as if she’s caught in a reprimand. “Not you’re fine. Though you are, but I mean, it’s fine that you are . . .” Her hand flies out toward me, and she shakes it like I’m summed up easily that way. “Not dressed.”
“Thanks.” I grin, appreciating this version of Summer Season best. She’s cute when she’s flustered. “Since I couldn’t shower, I stayed in my trunks—”
“You really don’t owe me the details, Mr. Sutton.”
Ah. Guess this is how it’s going to be . . .
But that’s fine. I can play along. “I wasn’t expecting you to come so fast.”
Her jaw hits the floor, my words lingering in the air. The innuendos are coming to me quicker than usual today. But like in every other part of my life, I peak at just the right time.
She swallows like a lump is stuck in her throat. “I . . .” She usually snaps back without missing a beat, but she seems to struggle to find the words she wants this time. After searching the ceiling and the floor, she finally replies, “It sounded like an emergency.”
“So you walked over?” She didn’t have a car parked out front. Chuckling, I cross my arms over my chest. “Anyway, I wouldn’t call it an emergency.”
“You sure about that? I wanted fresh air. It’s a beautiful day.” Her tone is lighter, her smile natural as she finds her stride again. “It gave me extra time to imagine you in that cold water—”
“You’ve been thinking about me?” I walk to the kitchen but stop and whisper in her ear, “Naked?” Catching the scent of honey and flowers has me stealing a deep inhale before I move on.
“Oh my God. No.” She staggers for a breath with her hand gripping the base of her throat. I have a feeling she’d be clutching her pearls if she were wearing them. “I would never—”