Page 13

Chapter Thirteen

“Comparing his performance last season to his four previous seasons, he bettered his stats across the board. He had the third highest time on ice, behind only the captain and juggernaut defenseman, Hampus Breining. After such a break-out year, what does the future hold for Bohdan Zacha?” Renegades Rinkside Report

Novy

I swiped my phone awake for the fourteenth time this morning. A quarter after ten. He never slept this late.

The door to Boh’s bedroom remained closed. Silent. And it worried me.

Maybe he felt as awkward as I did after our ridiculous kiss yesterday. I’d rushed into my bedroom, hidden in the privacy of my personal space until the early morning when I knew he wouldn’t be around.

When Scout broke the news about her concussion after colliding with that pole in the old rec center, I’d read everything I could get my hands on to do with concussions. And loud sounds, raucous events? Well, they were not in the best interest of healing. I never should have let him come to the derby bout.

Maybe he was in the middle of a relapse. Maybe he was in such pain, he couldn’t leave his room. Maybe he needed help and couldn’t bring himself to call out for me.

Maybe he’d spent the whole night suffering after spending the whole afternoon cheering me and the Killbillies on. I’d die of the guilt alone.

I left the kitchen and crept down the hall to his closed bedroom door. My stomach tossed and flipped. If nothing was wrong and I was overreacting, I was going to be so incredibly embarrassed.

The memory of his hands on my behind, his chest against mine, his lips devouring my every breath roared through me. Just the memory was enough to bring heat to my cheeks and have my core muscles clenching.

I’d avoided him, embarrassed by my reaction, confused about the kiss and why he’d initiated it. Hidden away in my bedroom and left him to suffer whatever consequences he was suffering because of his damaged brain.

Maybe it was his damaged brain that led him to kiss me. Maybe he didn’t even mean it.

Crap. That might be worse.

Either way, I’d been hired to look out for him and that meant manning up and opening this dang door.

My fingers trembled as I gripped the doorknob. Slowly, quiet as a mouse, I turned the knob and eased the door open.

Darkness cloaked the room. Shadowy shapes of a bed, dresser and chair barely discernible. Heavy draperies covered the window, blocking even a hint of mid-morning sunlight from slipping inside.

I could just make out the shape of the bed in the center of the room, but I couldn’t see Boh. I chewed my lower lip. I’d never forgive myself if I left him to suffer alone.

I pushed the door wider, letting the hall light slant across the room, a sharp bar cleaving the enormous bed in two.

The bar of light cut right across the figure sleeping on top of the covers.

The naked figure. On top of the covers. Naked.

Of course. This was my punishment. For what crime, I didn’t know. But standing there taking this man in, the thick muscles of his calves and thighs, the sculpted curve of his rear, the sleek, muscular contours of his back and shoulders… I lost my breath. My toes curled into my slippers, my fingers gripped the door. Only through the grace of solid carpentry did I stay on my feet.

I sucked in a breath, pushed it out slow and steady. Calm. Harness some inner strength. A hint of professionalism. Another slow breath, in through the nose, out through suddenly dry lips.

The light stopped at his left shoulder, leaving his head, his face, in darkness. Did he have his eyes open? Was he watching me creep into his room like a psycho stalker? Snickering in Czech about his sex-crazed psycho roommate?

Or was he barely conscious? Battling the aftershocks of the concussion?

Worry pushed me forward, legs trembling, until I stood over the side of the bed. The way the light cut in, the play of darkness in the room, wreaked havoc on my sight and even this close, I couldn’t see his face.

What if he just decided to sleep late? What if—

He rolled to his side, dragging one heavy thigh up, effectively hiding a certain part of his anatomy. And yes, damn it, I looked. But in the next instant, he’d shoved up on his elbow, and the mystery of his sleep status was solved.

Hooded eyes looked back at me, soft at the corners from sleep. Scruff covered his jaw, dark and tempting.

I should step back. Ask about his health, his head.

But I stood motionless, our gazes touching, a current pulsing between us that had nothing to do with my worry and everything to do with sparking electricity.

I slipped my tongue out to moisten my dry lips. “It’s after ten. You never sleep this late. I was worried.”

He let out a breath, heavy and long, a gentle soughing sound that lulled me into dropping my defenses. He reached out, wrapped his big hand around my forearm, and tugged. I tumbled down until I splayed over his chest. He threaded his fingers into the hair at the back of my head and angled me down until his breath feathered over my lips, hot and sultry and more temptation than I could hope to resist.

I tipped down to cover the last of the distance between us, sucking on his lower lip. My fingers explored his chest, petting the thick slabs of his pecs, the rippling dips and contours of his abs, pressing my palms down to feel the warmth of his skin. I couldn’t get enough.

He let me play. A sort of patient, waiting stillness held him as I explored, his lips, his mouth, his body. I memorized the feel of his wet lips, my tongue dipping inside to learn the taste of his mouth. My hands and fingers learned the texture of his skin, the power of his body. I pressed closer, my nipples stinging and sensitive and leaving me craving the sensual abrasion of his skin on mine.

I wiggled further up his body, angled my head to deepen our kiss, hungry in a way I’d never known before. I shouldn’t be surprised. Boh had occupied a special place in my head since the first time I’d seen him. Only stubborn resistance and loyalty to Scout, and not messing up their friendship, had kept me silent about the thoughts flashing through my brain when it came to Bohdan Zacha.

But now, the reins had been loosened, and hunger took over.

I leaned back, sucked in a breath, and stared down at the man beneath me, at his full lower lip already a darker pink from my attention. Brown eyes stared back, still with that patient waiting, leaving what happened next up to me.

I sucked in another breath, my nipples chaffing against the fabric of my bra. My fingers trembled, desire and a hint of terror, too. What was I doing?

Then his hand at the back of my head tightened, pulling me down again and our open mouths met in a sensual dance of tongue and lips and teeth. I sank over him fully, pushing my breasts against him, wedging my knees on either side of his hips. The instant my lower body came into contact with his, he took control.

With a frightening show of strength and without breaking our kiss, he rolled us until my back hit the bed and his huge body covered mine. He settled his hips between mine, even as his mouth burned a trail from my lips, to my jaw, to the sensitive space right beneath my ear. His breath fanned over my skin, narrowing my awareness down to his next exhalation, to the pulse thrumming under his touch, to the desperate need to feel him everywhere all at once.

Then he rocked against my belly, his dick hard and thick, and I gasped and arched into him. Yes, I thought. Gimmie. This is exactly what I need.

As he kissed along my neck, nuzzling beneath my ear, the scrape of his beard a delicious burn on my skin, I followed his touch. I shifted, hungry for him to give me more, to ease the ache between my legs.

The doorbell chimed.

He raised up, and braced himself above me. He was a gift for the eyes, all hungry, aroused male, power and strength in restraint as he arched a dark brow down at me.

His words came out with a rough edge. “Expecting someone?”

I blinked. My brain stuck on feelings, touches, needs and wants.

“Novy?” He shifted so his leg slid along mine.

The sensual touch didn’t help. The electronic bell chimed again, a soft sequence of sound that jarred my brain back online and I gaped up at him. “The girls!”

I shimmied out from under him, my shirt slipping back to cover me. What was I doing? I’d said last night that it was a mistake for us to kiss in the elevator, but at least I could blame him. It was his fault, he’d started it. Mostly. I may have enjoyed the feel of his lips on mine, but I hadn’t initiated the kiss. That was an important distinction, surely.

This morning? I’d all but tackled him. Woke him up and shoved him over to have my wicked way with his divine body.

I danced from foot to foot at the side of the bed. I needed to go let the girls in. They’d come to help me film for Nutrition by Novy, but I couldn’t leave with this thing between us. “Can we pretend this didn’t happen?”

He fell back on the bed and did nothing to cover his nakedness. The light still slashed a sharp wedge across the bed, but because the gods wanted to drive me mad, the light hit him just right.

Or wrong.

Or right. His cock lay thick and heavy against his belly, the tip a vivid purple. It probably hated me right about now. All angry and annoyed at being teased. “I’m sorry! I don’t know why I did that!”

He laughed. “Up here, meruňka . Eyes up here.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. I’d addressed my apology to the wrong part of him. The doorbell chimed for the third time, sending a frightening shock of adrenaline spiking through me. The top of his face was on the wrong side of the bar of light. But I kept my gaze fastened on the space where his eyes should be. Licking my lips, I whispered, “Sorry,” and escaped to answer the door.