He could have taken his choice from any of the women there.
He could have danced, bar-hopped—and married—any of those women there that night.
And there were plenty of them giving Trey Turner goo-goo eyes everywhere he turned.
Trust me.
I saw it firsthand.
I loved women—was, and will always be a champion for women, and our rights.
But, holy cow.
Females lost their flipping minds around Trey Turner, famous hockey player, superstar right-wing, and well-known honest to goodness player.
Not just on the ice.
But off, as well.
Trey’s antics were more than just whispered about.
No.
Trey Turner was known for being a ladies’ man.
Ladies—as in plural.
Apparently, Trey preferred having more than one woman in his bedroom.
At a time.
More like—two.
Yeah, Trey had a penchant for threesomes.
At least that’s what the gossip about him had been for years.
I didn’t doubt it.
I guess some guys felt like two were better than one.
Honestly, I couldn’t blame Trey.
Women practically threw themselves at his feet.
I gasped when his hand landed on my inner thigh, and tried to inch up, and up, and up.
He deepened our kiss just as his finger slid my panties over and grazed my clit—and holy cow, if there was one thing Trey Turner could play, it was my clit.
The man was pure magic with his fingers.
And his mouth.
Everywhere.
Talent I’d never seen before.
Not that I’d seen a lot of talent.