Eric’s hands hooking under my knees. My spine pressed against the locked bathroom door at Club Thirty-Five.

    Eric’s lips on my neck, his hand over my mouth to hush the moan trying to tear through me as he sent me into orbit in my bedroom.

    My place.

    His place.

    Secret places.

    Six weeks of stolen moments.

    Each one hotter than the next.

Each one riskier than the next.

    But I couldn’t stop.

    We couldn’t.

    And I was spiraling.

The sheets were warm and soft against my oversensitive skin. For a few moments, I simply laid there, letting the scent of the sleeping man next to me soak into my very being.

God, what was Eric doing to me?

He was like a drug I never knew existed and I was hooked after one hit.

I knew the risks.

Knew the stakes.

And yet, here I was, in his bed—again—his smooth sheets covering my bare breasts. The rest of my body tingled with a pleasant soreness and my mind? Well, normally it was logical and awkward and rapidly paced.

Now? Settled, fuzzy, calm.

He gave me a quiet mind.

I didn’t even know that was possible.

Maybe that was why I was terrified to open my eyes.

I knew that the second I did…the second I looked at him, I wouldn’t be able to push him away.

And I should.

He had more to lose than I did.

The family farm, quite literally. And I’d totally, utterly, fallen for his family. Every single one of them. They’d opened their home to me, included me, given me a sense of home I’d never experienced before but always dreamed of.

And how was I repaying them?

By sleeping with their son and risking his upcoming multi-million-dollar contract.

I’m the villain.

Brilliant. The argument and guilt-fest were the same every single time. As always, if my mind couldn’t solve a problem it would never stop working it until--

“You want to tell me what you’re chewing on?” Eric’s voice was husky with sleep and half-muffled by the pillow.

I snapped my eyes open, instantly rolling over on my side to face him.

His eyes were still closed and his long red hair was loose and mussed over his broad shoulders. I slid my hand across the bed, tracing the lines of the feather tattoos over his shoulders, and down his thick arms corded with muscle.

So much for pushing him away.

“How did you know?” I asked, continuing with my tracing.

“You’re always crunching something with that big brain of yours, Pepper.” He rolled over on his back, stretching every glorious inch of him. The sheet barely covered his hips, leaving his carved muscles decorated with ink, exposed. Also, it was morning so…

I may have trailed his tattoos a little lower than I should’ve.

A delighted growl rumbled from his chest, and he finally opened his eyes. Blinking a few times to clear the haze, he furrowed his brow when he locked gazes with me.

“What is it?”

I pulled my hand back, tucking it underneath my body so I wouldn’t have any excuse to touch him despite everything in my body begging me to.

“I’m not worth it,” I whispered, glancing away from his green eyes like the coward I was.

He tipped my chin up, forcing me to look at him. “Are you kidding me?”

“I’m serious.”

He tucked his arm underneath the pillow and turned his body to mirror mine. “You think I don’t know what I’m doing? What we are doing?”

“What are we doing?” I asked, honestly not sure.

A soft smile played at his lips, but I could see the worry behind his eyes. “We’re…being us. Two unstoppable forces colliding together in one awesome explosion.”

I choked out a laugh. “Colliding. Explosion. So, basically, we’re doomed.”

He reached over and stroked the line of my jaw. “No. We’re not. We’re…”

I arched a brow at him when he couldn’t finish.

“I’m. Not. Worth. It.”

He had the audacity to look mad. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

Adrenaline filled my veins, so I rolled over, taking the sheet with me to wrap around my body. Unfortunately—or luckily—it left him completely naked and sprawled out in his bed.

Oh great Asgardian Gods he was delicious.

Almost enough to make me forget the risks, the farm, my job…all of it.

Almost.

“Pepper,” he growled.

“No,” I said. “You don’t get to be mad.”

He raised his brows.

“You don’t. Look,” I said, rushing around the edge of his bed in search of my clothes. “Do I know we have something? Yes. Yes, I do. Do I think it could be something? Sure. But…” I bent to scoop up my lace panties he’d so delicately removed last night, and he whistled. I popped back upright, hurrying to slip into them and tug my shirt over my head. I tossed the sheet back over him with a huff. “It’s not a joke, Eric.”

He hissed. “Used my real name over Iron Man. You are pissed.”

I took a deep breath and let it out. “No. I’m not pissed.” I tilted my head from side to side. “Okay, I’m frustrated.”

“With me.”

“No,” I groaned. “With the situation.”

“I know it’s not ideal, but we have options.”

“We really don’t,” I said. “It’s not that we’re both employed by the Seattle Sharks. We see relationships all the time declared with HR. It’s that my father is your—”

“Coach,” he cut me off.

“Exactly.”

“He loves me.”

I tugged on my leggings, not even caring that I did the goofy hop-hop thing to get into them properly. “Yeah, now. Because he thinks you’re a good ‘ole boy who would never steal my heart.”

Eric rolled over on his stomach, tucking two pillows underneath him to look up at me.

That look was so unfair.

“Are you afraid I will?”

I swallowed hard, my frantic movements instantly froze. “This isn’t about me.”

“Isn’t it?” He challenged. “Your career is on the line, too.”

“Not as much as yours,” I countered. “And you have way more to lose. It’s too much risk. And it isn’t the coach of the Sharks you need to worry about, it’s my dad.”

His brow pinched.

I rolled my eyes. “I know they’re the same. I get it. But what I’m trying to say is that I doubt I’d lose my job if we were caught. Honestly, you wouldn’t or shouldn’t have grounds to lose yours either. But because my dad and the coach are the same person? He’d likely listen to the dad side more and punish you with his coach power.”

Eric smirked. “You’re adorable when you’re all over the place, did you know that?” He reached out and gripped my wrist, stopping me from slipping my socked feet into boots.

“Eric, please, I’m trying to help you. I’m not worth—”

He jerked on my wrist until I fell on the bed, and before I could blink, he was hovering over me. “Don’t you dare say those words again. Not once, got it? You’re…fuck, Pepper, you’re incredible. And I’m not an idiot. I know the risks. I know I have more people counting on me than I should. But, please, don’t push me away. Don’t ask me to stay away from you.”

“Eric,” I chided, trying to get him to focus but my body was arching into the delicious warm weight he pressed against me.

“I haven’t ever bothered with a relationship before, Pepper. The game, my career, the farm, it was my sole focus. Nothing was ever strong enough to pull me away from that. Then you crashed into my world. I just found you.”

My heart thudded hard against my chest, my eyes stinging with the sincerity in his words. I had never felt so connected to another person in my entire life, and yet, it was too risky.

“I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I caused you to lose your family’s farm.”

He shook his head. “You won’t. I won’t let that happen. We’ll keep being careful. Secret. Like we have been. Just until we figure everything out. Figure out how to convince your dad I’m not some random player with an agenda.”

I reached up, holding his face in my hands.

“Secret.” I eyed him.

“Promise.” He pressed a bit harder where he rested between my thighs. He was bare and rock hard against the soft cotton of my leggings.

“And to the outside world, we’re just friends.” I whimpered a bit when he applied more pressure.

“Exactly,” he said, his lips against my neck. “Really, really good friends.” His tongue darted out to taste my skin, and I moaned.

“And…and…” Where was my brain? Oh right. Everything focused on that pressure. That sweet pressure he held at the right exact moment of torture. “Once we know where this is going—”

“We’ll know.” He kissed the corner of my mouth. “And that’s when we’ll talk to your father. Together.”

That image was almost enough to kill the vibrations buzzing my skin.

One quick roll of my breast between his fingers and Eric had me right back in torture-ville.

“So, we’re okay?” He asked though it was all tease as I arched into his touch.

“Mmmhmm,” I moaned, unable to form complete words anymore.

“Good.” He slipped his fingers into the band of my leggings and tugged them down. “Now that’s out of the way, I have a busy morning.”

I popped my head off the bed, confused. “Busy, but then why did you just take…oh!” My head fell back the second Eric set his mouth on me. Every nerve ending in my body tingled and sparked, my world swaying.

Right. I should’ve pushed him away.

Instead, I tangled my fingers in his hair and held on for life.

I was so completely and totally addicted.

Four hours and several orgasms later, Eric convinced me to surface for air and an early dinner.

Clad in my leggings, cozy boots, a thermal, and my hair tucked into a warm hat, we left Eric’s apartment absolutely famished.

“I swear I’m ordering double wherever we go, and it’s all your fault,” I teased as he held the door open for me.

“Only double?” He challenged. “I’ll have to try harder next tim—”

Eric froze for one second before spinning around and darting us back into his complex.

“Eric, what the hell?” I asked as he practically tried to press me through the nearest wall. His tall frame covered every inch of me, so much I could barely crane my head to give him my WTF look.

“Shit,” he snapped. “Why are they here?”

My blood ran cold.

I didn’t need him to elaborate. I knew he meant the paparazzi.

“Because you’re gaining cred and fame in spades this season,” I whispered like they might hear me through Eric’s chest and the closed door separating us.

“I wish I could celebrate that,” he said. “But right now, it’s annoying as fuck.”

“We could go back inside and just order in.”

He shook his head. “No. We can’t let them rule our lives.”

“Um,” I snorted. “Yes, we totally can. We just had a conversation about how we don’t know where this is going and we have too much at risk to come out publicly.”

“I know, but…” he sighed, intertwined his fingers in mine, and tugged me through several different hallways until we exited a back door. “Wait here,” he ordered before jogging back into the building.

Ten minutes later he’d pulled up in his truck. I raced to the door before he could try and get out to open it for me.

“Now,” he said, pulling out of the complex through a back alley connected to it. “What are you in the mood for?”

I arched a brow at him.

“I answered two questions to appease them,” he explained.

“That doesn’t mean another set of reporters won’t catch us at a restaurant. Or any fan with a cell phone.” Damn, this was getting more complicated by the minute.

“I get that,” he said. “But, your father did basically order me to be your stand-in bodyguard from practically every male on the planet. It’s only natural that we’d spend time together.”

The man had a point.

“Chinese,” I said, smiling.

“Perfect. I know the best place.”

“And no PDA.” I eyed him, and he chuckled.

“That’s all on you,” he said, reaching over the gearshift to take my hand in his. “You’re the one who can’t keep your hands off me.”

I gaped at him. “Me? You totally tortured me up there.”

He licked his lips like he could still taste me. Heat ratcheted in my core, aching and twisting despite being totally satisfied moments ago.

Maybe he had a point.

Maybe I was the one that would blow this for us.

“Is it bad that I’m already plotting how to torture you again?” He asked.

I blushed, a thrilling free-fall sensation filtering through my chest. “I’m going to be stronger,” I declared.

“Oh, yes,” he said. “I love a challenge.”

“I mean it.” I squeezed his hand before sitting it back in his lap and returning mine to my side. “I won’t ruin this for us. Especially since we’re not…”

“Labeling it?” He filled in for me. “And you could never ruin anything, Pepper.”

“With who my father is? I assure you, I could.”

Eric pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot and killed the ignition. He hurried out of the truck, opening my door and helping me down—his hands on my hips, he slid my body down every hard inch of him.

“New rule,” he said, stepping back from me once he’d closed the door.

“I’m a fan of rules.”

“Of course, you are.” He chuckled. “None of this kind of talk unless we’re in one of our places. We’re out here, just two innocent friends having an innocent dinner.”

The way he said innocent was anything but.

“And,” he continued. “It’ll give us a chance to feel this out, for real. Without having to look over our shoulder every five seconds.”

I sighed, relief pooling in my belly. “Sounds perfect.”

He smirked like he knew just how damn perfect he really was.

An hour and a half later, I’d cleaned every plate in front of me, and there were six.

“Much better,” I said, leaning back in the chair.

Eric stared at me from across the table, a goofy, awe-inspired grin on his face.

“What?” I asked, glancing down, worried I’d spilled the red sauce all over my white thermal. Luckily, for once, it was spotless.

“You,” he said, shaking his head. He leaned closer over the table. “You may be the coolest woman I’ve ever met.”

I snorted just to prove how uncool I was. “Think you’re getting me mixed up with, Ivy.”

He furrowed his brow. “Not a chance,” he said. “I just...” he sighed. “Think you’re amazing.”

Heat swept across my skin, and I shifted in my seat. “You’re pretty stellar yourself, Iron Man.” I nodded toward the destroyed spread in front of us. “This place is legit. Going on my new favorite’s list.”

“Oh,” he said. “Am I on that list?”

“Iron Man is,” I teased.

“You keep placing me up there with all your favorite heroes and one day it’ll give me a big head.”

I laughed. “That would be terrible,” I said. “You’re the most down-to-earth player I’ve ever met. An ego would ruin you.”

“Then stop making me feel like a king.”

I swallowed hard, hating that all I wanted to do was climb over the table and straddle him, kiss him, taste him, explore him. Not that I would even if we were allowed, but we weren’t. I couldn’t even scoot my chair close enough to touch him without being afraid.

“You’re right,” I said, trying to keep it light and shove my serious thoughts away. “I should treat you worse. Punish you a bit. Or work you harder.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked, his green eyes churning. “You ready for the check?”

I nodded, my heart racing from the way he looked at me—like I was the only dessert he craved.

A buzzing from my pocket jolted me out of the sexy-as-sin stare-down. I fished out my cell, my eyes popping at the notification.

The Shark’s New Statistician and Crosby Stanton Heat Things Up

I clicked on the link with held breath.

And there, clear as day, was a picture of Crosby and Ivy, mid-lip-lock, his hand on her ass, and hers tangled in his hair. They were coming out of Warren Kinley’s wife’s restaurant Nine’s. One of the most well-known spots to find Sharks.

But of course, how would they know it was Ivy in the picture and not me? People who knew us had a hard time telling us apart, and wouldn’t it make more sense that, me, who worked for the Sharks, would be all over a player?

I eyed Eric across the table who was focused on paying our waiter. Finished, he turned back to me, instantly noting the difference in my features.

“What’s wrong?”

Shaking my head, I slid my cell across the table.

It took him a few seconds to process it. “Fuck.”

Exactly.