Chapter 152 A ruse
“I told you to hide your changes.” Mordaine cornered the puck from me just before I launched it into the net.
“But more than once, I have caught you out in the cold winter without a jacket.” He sent the puck swinging.
I groaned, and he met my eyes with an amused scoff.
Ten minutes. It's been ten minutes since I have not scored a thing. He treated me like a boy. Rough, devious. And pulled off just about any move to steal the puck from me.
“I don’t feel cold,” I finally responded.
“You shouldn't. Neither should you advertise that fact when it's an unusual trait for a werewolf.”
“Will you just stop speaking in riddles?” My fingers tightened around the stick as memories of pre-Seoul came rushing. Those days of torture because he was trying to teach me control over something he would not name. “What am I?”
“A whinny little loser.” He shoved me aside, and sent the puck right into the net again. “Save those tears for later, sweetheart."
I ground my teeth, clutching the stick so tightly I feared it would break. I was losing control. That mass was spreading out in my chest, stealing my breath.
But I managed to regain control just before Mordaine spun around. He noticed though. I have no idea how, as I looked normal, but he did. A broad, pleased smile spread across his face.
And my wretched heart liked that.
It felt as good as a kiss, as a touch, this proof that he was pleased with me. And it strengthened that urge of mine to fall on my knees and nuzzle his feet like a freaking kitten.
I shook the thought out of my head. His back was turned to me now, the puck between his braced feet. I kicked one leg back and dashed for him.
Inches away from him, I tilted a little towards the left and raised my right foot. I kicked him right on the shin and stole the puck. His growl caused the floor to tremor, but I raced all the way to the net and sent the puck home.
“Woohoo.” I squealed in delight, jumping into the air and landing with an artsy spin. I spun around to enjoy the look on his face but bumped right into him.
“Oh.” I was breathing hard, wheeling backward. He had managed to sneak up on me again.
He followed me, eyes pinned on me from behind his helmet. I stopped, and he did too, standing so close I could feel his heartbeats as I was certain he could feel mine.
The world stood still, waiting. And then he pulled away. “Well played, ballerina.”
He raced for the net and cornered the puck out. “You have used up your advantage of surprise though. It will not work again.”
And it didn't.
The next five minutes passed with him whooping my ass on that skating rink. Although I had long since stopped fair, I could never be as immoral as this man. He did things that would make a referee ban him for life.
I was panting now, my scalp damp and itchy with sweat. He was on track to win, win and then punish me. Punishment that I dreaded as much as I looked forward to them.
Desperation inspired my next move. I would probably die of embarrassment after this, but at the moment, I was frantic at the thought of losing.
I tossed my stick to the ground.
His gaze followed the moment and his head dropped in a deep belly laugh. “Four more minutes doll, you cannot back out just yet.” He winked. “I prefer to squeeze out every last drop of my victory.”
My heart beat dropped to my clit. The man was undoubtedly an asshole, but moon above, he was gorgeous.
That full boyish smile illuminated his face behind the helmet, and I blinked. He was happy. This… this was a distraction.
I looked around me, the empty rink no one had stepped into the whole time we'd been here.
He rented the place out.
This was a ruse, and it was working. In the last sixteen minutes, I thought of nothing besides beating him at this game.
Nothing.
Not my performance a few hours from now, not how red in the ear Tamar must be at this point, and especially not Rhea and Hale.
This wicked dragon, now practically drooling at the thought of punishing me, was all I could see. He was the only danger in front of me.
I tugged my helmet off, shed my shirt and straightened up in my sheer silk bra. The dragon froze. He was a man after all.
And right now, those very male eyes turned dark as they fixed on my chest.
“It's really hot in here,” I muttered, my cheeks aflame. This was awkward as hell, seeing as I had not a single seductive bone in me. But I planned to make it work.
Still holding his gaze, I leaned down to pick up the stick again. And I took off in a flash, cornered the puck and sent it right into the net.
The rest of the game was easy.
It seemed he could not tear his eyes away from my cleavage long enough. Those silver eyes followed every sway of my breasts as we played.
And every time I brushed past him, his breath hitched. By the time twenty minutes were up, it was a draw.
We halted, panting, eyes still locked. We had not planned for a draw. There was no agreement on what would happen if we ended in a draw.
He grabbed my arm, turning away from the rink. “What do you say, we let this go, or think of wicked things to do to one another?”