The Sexiest Man Alive by Juliet Rosetti

Author:Juliet Rosetti
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Humorous, Suspense, Contemporary, Fiction
ISBN: 9780345549167
Publisher: Random House LLC
Published: 2014-07-07T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

The noise from the lower floor attracted Ben’s attention as he emerged from the Snowplows’ locker room. It sounded like a riot going on down there. The Plows could have used a little of that enthusiasm during their hockey game tonight, a 4–3 loss. One of the reasons they’d lost was that he’d kept watching the audience, hoping Mazie would show up.

He ought to head home. He still had to pack and needed to be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow to drive to Illinois. Instead, Ben allowed his curiosity to get the better of him, and he headed downstairs to find out what the commotion was about.

Roller Derby. Milwaukee versus Skokie. He’d always thought Derby was as scripted as pro-wrestling, but after watching a couple of times, he’d realized that the matches were for real. He could understand why it attracted an enthusiastic male following: the skimpy uniforms, the flashes of boobs and ass, women being aggressive with one another—sexy as hell.

The sound nearly bowled him over as he stepped into the gym. The audience was on its feet, screaming and whistling. Glancing at the scoreboard, Ben saw that the Brawlers were down by two with fifty seconds remaining. The Brawlers’ jammer flashed past on the track. Terrific ass, Ben noticed, and great—

Mazie!

She wasn’t even on the team. What was she doing out there, skating like Bobby Orr on wheels, burning up the track? Then he noticed Juju sitting on the sidelines, holding an ice pack to her head. They must have run out of subs and told Mazie to go in. She was fast—skating up on the opposing team’s blockers—but she’d been suckered into a trap; she was boxed in—then one of the Scorchers went down and Mazie somehow broke through her captors, lapping them and tying up the game.

Ben inhaled sharply as the orange-haired Scorcher bodychecked Mazie, flinging her against a railing. She sledded across the floor on her knees. She was hurt! He started toward her, all his protective instincts kicking in, but Mazie was already scrambling to her feet. Now she was mad; no mistaking that body language. He found himself at the railing, bellowing at the top of his lungs, “Go, Mazie!”

Five yards to go … two … she was moving up on the Scorchers’ blockers like an avenging fury. Then she was on them. Ouch! Nasty elbowing there—only this time it was Mazie doling out the punishment, knocking a couple of Scorchers to the floor and—holy shit!—leaping over them like she was doing high hurdles, giving the Brawlers a two-point lead with only seconds remaining. That should have been the game, but the orange-haired woman roared up and grabbed Mazie’s shirt, intent on ripping it off her body.

“Flagrant foul!” Ben roared, trying to get the attention of the stupid, blind referee. Then he switched his attention back to Mazie, who’d stopped on a dime, causing a rear-end collision with her pursuer. Both women fell to the floor, biting, kicking, and scratching, their skirts flying up to reveal skimpy panties, the guys in the crowd whooping their approval.

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