Breathless: Breakers Hockey #3 by Elise Faber

Author:Elise Faber [Faber, Elise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Elise Faber

Chapter Nineteen

Marcel

“You got in his face?” he asked.

She scowled.

“In Smitty’s face?”

More scowling. “He was going to give you a hard time.”

Marcel smiled.

Her bottom lip stuck out, and it was so fucking cute, he had to curl up and slant his mouth across hers, to taste that pout on his tongue.

“Not fair,” she muttered when he’d settled back against the pillows of her bed—pillows that were absolute shit, along with a mattress that wasn’t much better…which meant that he was going to encourage sleepovers at his place.

Either that, or he’d use his newfound key to arrange a mattress delivery.

Hmm.

He didn’t think she’d react well to that, considering she’d flipped out about him having dinner delivered to her office before she’d gone up to the owner’s box to watch the game. That flipping out was why she was currently naked and on top of him, her chin pillowed on her uninjured arm. She wasn’t used to someone spoiling her—if buying her one dinner could be considered spoiling. He’d pointed out that she’d brought him dinner the other night (getting a scowl in return—one that was rightfully earned since he was an idiot who’d then obliquely brought up the Carrie fiasco), so then he’d quickly changed tactics and pointed out that she’d kept the gift that came from dinner.

That gift being a gift certificate to a gift-wrapping service.

“I needed that,” she’d muttered.

“You also need food,” he’d said. “You know, to like, help your body function.”

She’d grumbled, fought the caring—well, fought it this morning when they woke up, demanding he not do that again.

Something he’d blatantly refused to do.

Something he’d had to orgasm her into submission to stop whining about.

Now he was catching up on the group text—something he’d silenced after the pop-puck-head-video—or had been anyway.

Because then he’d come to the picture of her fiercely glaring into the camera.

Which had turned out to be her fiercely glaring at Smitty.

Who was a fucking giant.

Who could snap her like a twig.

Now would the man—even with all his loose cannon-ness—ever hurt a woman? Hell no.

That didn’t mean Marcel liked her getting in the face of someone who could hurt her, even if it was in defense of him.

“No more confronting six-foot-six-fuckers who can break you like a toothpick,” he said, smoothing his thumb over her bottom lip.

Her eyes went warm…and then she nommed onto his thumb, her teeth gripping the pad. Not lightly. But not hard enough to actually hurt. Just a goofy, cute thing from Pru that he was going to cherish like the gift it was.

Because she was giving him her.

Wide open.

“I’ll confront whoever I need—”

He dropped his hand to her ass, squeezed the rounded globe. “Do I need to orgasm you into submission again?”

She scowled.

He needed to orgasm her into submission again.

Fingers in her hair, mouth on hers, tongue stroking deep.

Then he flipped them and set about gaining that submission.

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