Talk to Me by Clare James

Author:Clare James [James, Clare]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: new adult, football, nhl, reporter, mystery, romance, love
Publisher: CJ. Books
Published: 2014-06-07T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

GLITCH (n):

A mishap, error, or malfunction.

Casey

One minute I was in the air, feet flipped out from under me. The next, I’m sprawled out on the ground, cushioned in an enormous mass of muscular arms and chest and legs.

Zing.

I knew it was him, even before seeing his face. My body remembered his touch. My brain remembered the danger. I swept my bangs to the side, took a deep breath, and looked up at his face. He was flushed and breathing hard. It got worse when I shifted on top of him. I tried to push myself off, but he locked me in as I rolled. Now on his chest, my breasts pushed into his pecs, and our centers aligned perfectly. I pushed again and this time I noticed his eyes twinkle just as I did. He tightened his grip along my waist, his hands alarmingly close to my ass.

Oh my effing God. I was growing warm and wet. And fucksticks, he knew it.

“Let me up.” I slapped his chest.

“Why? So you can really get run over in traffic this time?”

Confused, I looked at him again.

“You didn’t even realize it, did you?”

“I was fine.” I lied. “I saw the car.”

“Truck,” he corrected. “And you didn’t. You were off in la la land running where you please, expecting people to move out of the way for you. That’s what you’re used to, isn’t it?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I said, the heat of the words matching the heat of my body. Hell, it felt fantastic.

“You,” he said. “And the way you steamroll over people to get what you want.”

“Are you high?”

“No, but I have become enlightened. Actually, I watched you on TV last night.”

“And?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were an aspiring reporter?” He rolled us over onto the grass now, focusing on me for what I could only assume was an answer. “Or a KXAA Sports Girl for that matter?”

He’d been asking about me, thinking about me. I wonder if he dreamt of me the way I did of him.

“Maybe for the same reason why you didn’t initially tell me you regularly open your doors to bed hockey groupies.”

His eyes burned and he gripped his hand tighter on my hip.

I liked it.

I liked it so much.

“You really have been spying on me,” he accused, releasing me so we could both sit up.

“Aren’t we full of ourselves,” I said, quickly finding a way to spin my story. “I haven’t been spying on you. I’m just getting a lay of the land. Learning who’s who in hockey.”

“Right,” he scoffed.

“It’s called reeeee-search.” I drew out the word. “And P.S., you’re old news.” He looked pained when I said it, but I ignored my involuntary wince and went on. “After I found out you knew my brother, well, I was thinking maybe you could help with a few things. A girl has to work her sources wherever she finds them.”

“Why didn’t you just come out and ask?”

Yes, he was buying it.

“That’s exactly what I was trying to do before you went all Fifty Shades on me.

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