“Wife?”
“Not married.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Not exactly.”
Friend with benefits? It had been a long time since she’d had a friend with benefits or a boyfriend or even a one-night stand. Being here with Ty, surrounded by his toxic testosterone, reminded her exactly how long it had been. Just the deeper timbre of his voice brushed across her skin and reminded her how much she missed being held and touched by a strong, healthy man.
“Lean forward just a tiny bit, Faith. More aggressive, like you’re the boss.”
“Do you want my hands on my hips?” Faith leaned and the skirt of the dress slid up her thigh.
“Yep, that’s great. And Ty, just continue to look pissed off.”
Ty turned his gaze of doom on the photographer. “I’m not pissed off.” The intense glare usually reserved to intimidate opponents didn’t work on the photographer.
“Perfect. That’s exactly what I’m looking for.” He snapped a few more photos. “Faith, lean in just a bit and turn your shoulders toward me just a little more.”
Click. “Yeah, toss your hair. That’s it. Beautiful.”
Ty could not recall a time when he’d been so turned on. Not even as a horny sixteen-year-old rolling around in the backseat of his dad’s Plymouth with a semi-naked girl named Brigit.
Christ. He stood in the shower in the Chinooks locker room and let the cold water run down his neck, his back and behind. He’d had to wait for half an hour for everyone to clear out of the locker room before stripping out of his gear and walking into the shower. If anyone thought it was odd that he took a shower tonight, no one mentioned it.
He turned and the cold water hit his chest and ran down his stomach to his groin. He hadn’t been in this much throbbing pain since he’d broken his thumb on Hedican’s helmet last season. Only this time the throbbing pain was lower and hadn’t been caused by an aggressive defenseman trying to get at his puck. It had been caused by a living, breathing centerfold trying to drive him insane with her pouty mouth, soft hands, and sizzling-hot body.
The whole thing had been a bad idea. He’d known it going in. Despite what they thought of him, he wasn’t a hard-ass, and he’d let them talk him into the promotion for the good of the team. To get fans into the seats.
He placed his palms on the wall and shoved his head under the shower. He’d been doing a pretty good job of ignoring Mrs. Duffy. He’d ignored the scent of perfume on warm skin, the sound of her laugher, and her red, red lips. Then she’d touched him. The weight of her hand and her fingers sliding across his shoulder had sent fire down his spine and straight between his legs.
Rubbing her hand on his shoulder had been bad, but touching his hair and face had made his gut clench, and he’d had to fight like hell to keep from turning his mouth into her palm and sucking her skin. Then she’d put her foot in his crotch, leaned forward, and stuck her breasts in his face. After that, all he’d been able to think about was sliding his palm up the back of her smooth thigh and grabbing a handful of her ass. Pulling her closer and burying his face in the front of her dress. While she’d been smiling and tossing her hair for the camera, he’d been having some wild fantasies about what he wanted to do to her. Things that involved pulling her down on his lap and kissing her red lips. Tangling his fingers in her hair while she rode him like Smarty Jones in the long stretch. And yeah, he’d been royally pissed off about that. The last thing he wanted and needed in his life was a hard-on for the owner of the hockey team, but for some inexplicable reason, his body didn’t care what he wanted and needed.
Ty straightened and rubbed his hands over his face. It wasn’t as if she was all that beautiful. He cleared the water from his eyes and shook his head. Okay, that wasn’t true. Everything about her was hot as hell, but it wasn’t as if he’d never been around beautiful women. He was a hockey player. He’d had his share of beautiful women.
Faith. You can call me Faith, she’d said, like that was a good idea or ever going to happen. He needed a constant reminder of who she was and what she was to him. A reminder that she held his fate in her hands. Even if she was willing, he needed to remember that sex with the owner of the Chinooks was an appallingly bad idea.
Gooseflesh rose on his skin as he tried to clear his head of Faith Duffy. There were a few places he could go before he headed home. A few clubs where there were women who would be happy to share a little one-on-one time with him.
He stayed in the shower a few more minutes, until he was in control and could breathe again. He turned off the water and wrapped a towel around his waist. He grabbed a second towel and dried his hair. His dad was still hanging out at his place. Maybe he’d just go home and see what the old man had going on.
Jules Garcia stood in the middle of the locker room waiting for him. “What do you want?” he asked Faith’s assistant.
“To ask you to stop giving Faith such a hard time.” He had his arms folded across his big chest like he was big, bad trouble.
Ty kind of respected him for that. “Who says I give Mrs. Duffy a hard time?” As he moved to his locker, he dried his face and wondered if this was a case of an employee sticking up for his employer, or something else. Some of the guys wondered if Jules might be gay. Ty wasn’t convinced.
“I do.”
Ty sighed and sat down on the bench. He didn’t want to give her a hard time. He just wanted to be around her as little as possible, and her relationship with her assistant wasn’t his business.
“She’s not just some blonde off the street. She’s the owner of the team.”
“That’s right,” Ty agreed and ran the towel over his head. “And she knows nothing about hockey. I was hired by Virgil to win the cup. I’m the captain of the Chinooks and my ultimate responsibility is to get us into the last final round. But I have major concerns about how I’m going to do that with a former Playboy playmate holding our fate in her hands and making us look like idiots in interviews.”
“Are you talking about Sports Illustrated?”
“Yep.”