His Curvy Obsession

l of my battered sedan so tightly th

ing at the end of the cul-de-sac. This was the Vanguard estate. It was a ho

ck sharp, h

ming in my throat. I didn't want to be here. Every protective instinct I possessed was screaming at me to shift the car into reverse, d

s; I didn't have a wealthy family or a prestigious hockey scout waiting to hand me a future on a silver platter. I had to build m

own the front of my oversized grey hoodie,

ch to the gallows. Before I could even reach for the he

ve shirt that clung ruthlessly to the broad, muscular contours of his chest and shoulders, paired with grey sweatpants that hung

tracked my movement up the steps. There was no mockery in his gaze right no

" he murmured, his voice a low baritone

ow him so I wouldn't have to crane my neck quite so much to meet hi

arble-floored foyer. "Inside. Upstairs. My ro

e step. "Your room? Absolutely not. We

ou don't want to sit in the kitchen. The guys are in the media room right off the main hall, and they're lou

began walking up the sweeping spiral stairca

e distant sound of raucous laughter and shouting echoed from a room down the hall-definitely the hockey t

charcoal comforter, and the walls were lined with hockey memorabilia, framed jerseys, and shelves of shiny trophies. But what caug

leather armchair near his desk while he tosse

firmly on his desk, remaining on my feet. "Let's just get this over with. We need to choose three poems from the

houette of my body beneath the oversized hoodie. The intense, unreadable look in his e

?" he asked suddenl

rown off bala

e," he said, tilting his head as his gaze lingered on the hem of

this time it wasn't from attraction-it was anger. "I'm not hiding anything, Asher. And

ments fluid and precise, like a predator tracking prey on the ice. He stopped just a foot away, completely invading my personal space. "You're smart, Va

of his heavy desk. "Because the second I don't try to blend into the background, you and your little hockey friends make it your personal mission to remind me that I

hest rising and falling as I stared at him, waiting for

didn'

sharp skin. He stepped even closer, cutting off the remaining distance until the heat radiating from his body completely env

ack, letting my thick, dark curls fall loose around my shoulders. His fingers lingered

gerously low, gravelly register that made my knees feel weak. His eyes dropped to my m

onfusing hunger flaring deep in my stomach. The tension

ower, his grip on my shoulder tightenin

A

lew open, slamming

eyes darting from Asher's hand on my shoulder to my wide, breathless face. A slow, knowing smirk s

ning lethal in a fraction of a second as he whipped around