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My Lustful Arrangement With The Hockey Player 35
ISABELLAThe sliding glass doors of the building sighed as they parted for me, releasing me into the blinding light of the morning.I blinked hard, as if the sun itself had something personal against me. It probably did. Wouldn’t be the first thing this city conspired to throw at me.I made my way toward the street, one step at a time. My shoulders were squared, and my chin high.Fake it till you make it, right? Only in this case, I wasn’t sure what I was faking anymore. Confidence? Indifference? Humanity?I adjusted the strap of my bag where it dug into the bone of my shoulder, the leather stiff and unrelenting, just like me or so I liked to think.And then I saw her.Marcia, tall, and impossibly tall. Her figure was draped in a skin-tight lilac dress that screamed money and whispered plastic. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail so tight I wondered if it hurt to think. Her stilettos stabbed the ground like she had something against it. I would have liked to think the sight
My Lustful Arrangement With The Hockey Player 34
ISABELLAMonday mornings had always been an enemy of mine, but this one felt like a declaration of war. I stood in front of my cracked bathroom mirror, staring at my reflection with the kind of suspicion usually reserved for strangers in dark alleys.I looked too polished, and too prepared. My still bleached hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, not a strand out of place, and my brown eyes normally sharp, looked almost hesitant. It didn’t suit me.I adjusted the cuffs of my blazer for the fifth time, smoothing down the fabric like it might protest and walk away from me.The sharp click of my heels on the wooden floor echoed as I paced back to the door. I inhaled slowly, held it, and then exhaled through my nose.I can do this, and yet, as soon as I opened the door and stepped into the hallway, reality slammed into me like an eighteen-wheeler with no brakes.My body sagged against the doorframe, my fingers curling tight around the cold brass handle. I shouldn’t be doing this. I cou
My Lustful Arrangement With The Hockey Player 33
ISABELLA"And that will be all for today," I said, running my hand along the soft material of the last dress before folding it neatly into the crisp tissue paper.Lana gave me that look, the one that made me want to roll my eyes clean out of their sockets. She raised a perfectly drawn brow, arms crossing under her chest as she cocked her hip to the side like she had something insightful to say. "What?" I asked."You should get more dresses, you know?" she said, like she wasn’t suggesting I dig myself deeper into the Mariana Trench of financial dependence.I shrugged, smoothing out an invisible crease on the package, careful with my movements. "I will when I get paid," I replied, tone clipped, but not unkind. "I feel guilty already."Her head snapped back like I’d told her I ran an underground puppy smuggling ring. "Guilty?" Her laugh was sharp, biting. "Why the hell do you feel guilty?"I tilted my head slightly, tapping my fingers against the marble counter. The coolness grounded
My Lustful Arrangement With The Hockey Player 32
ISABELLAAs soon as we entered the shopping complex, I was hit by the cold air from the air-conditioning circulating through the large space. I should have brought a jacket.The place was as massive as Logan’s company building, but instead of work desks and tired employees, it was covered in dresses I was sure had price tags that could leave me bankrupt and scratching for income for years to come.Every shopper here looked like they had it all figured out. They were dressed to the latest fashion trends, their faces painted to perfection, and their shoes probably cost more than my last three months of rent combined. There were young ladies walking alone, some in groups, and others clinging to the arms of their partners. All of them dressed to the nines and looked effortlessly beautiful.Meanwhile, I looked like I had just stepped out of a magazine from the seventies.I shook my head and gave myself a silent reprimand.I could get used to this place. Probably. Maybe. Okay, not really,
My Lustful Arrangement With The Hockey Player 31
ISABELLA“You’ll stay the night.”Logan’s words weren’t exactly a request. He said it with such finality as a closing vault, and as much as I wanted to twist my mouth into something smug and say I had places to be, the truth was, it was late.I wasn’t exactly keen on battling a city full of drunk drivers and existential dread just to make it back to my shoebox apartment.So instead, I let out a noncommittal noise, somewhere between a hum and a sigh, and rose from his lap with as much dignity as I could manage.“Great,” I drawled. “I always dreamed of squatting in a stranger’s luxury suite.”His lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile but was dangerous all the same. “You’re not squatting.”“Semantics,” I muttered.I slipped away from him, my skin still tingling from the ridiculous way he’d been feeding me earlier.Who even did that? Oh right, men who could buy countries and still have pocket change.The bathroom was pristine, as expected. Chrome fixtures, marble counterto
My Lustful Arrangement With The Hockey Player 30
ISABELLAThe second my fingers slid into his, he yanked me forward with zero warning. A startled sound broke from my throat, swallowed instantly by his mouth as he hauled me into his lap. His hands were iron bands around my waist, and then his mouth was on mine, hot and fierce and unforgiving. His kiss stole the air from my lungs, left me dizzy and reeling, my fingers clutching at his shoulders for balance while his lips worked over mine like he was trying to brand me.I melted into it because what else was there to do? His tongue swept past my lips, demanding and sure, tasting of scotch and something sharp that might’ve been want or frustration, or both. My heart jackhammered in my chest, and when his hand slid up my spine, fingers threading into my hair, I swore my bones liquefied.He kissed me until I was breathless and dazed and borderline stupid. Until the world narrowed down to the press of his mouth and the scrape of his stubble against my skin. Until I forgot we were negoti
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