Mari Carr continues her Stingrays Hockey series this week, and I have an awesome sneak peek for you.
Excerpt
Ainsley stepped into Coulton’s condo for the second time in two days. When she left this morning, she never expected to return. Mainly because she’d told herself one night of weakness was all she could afford when it came to the sexy goalie.
If she hadn’t been so shaken up and terrified after the attack, there was no way she would have agreed to come home with him last night. She knew better than to follow some rich guy home. Not that she’d had a clue just how loaded Coulton was when she got into his truck.
This morning, after he dropped her off, she’d been determined to toe the line, hold steady to her “no” should he ask her out again. She’d walked this path before, so she knew it was a minefield.
As she drifted over to the large windows, taking in the incredible view of the water, she gave herself a mental headshake.
Because…Jesus.
She hadn’t even managed to stick to her guns for a full day.
Personally, she blamed the hockey game. She’d never been interested in the sport before, but knowing Coulton was out on the ice had drawn her in, and once she’d started watching him, she could not look away. As she watched him play, her determination to resist him had given way to something much more powerful.
Desire.
Sex had become a solitary affair for her after Montgomery, because he’d really taken her down a peg and destroyed her self-confidence even more than Jagger had, which was saying something.
At least vibrators didn’t hurt her, didn’t say cruel things, didn’t break her heart. And she hadn’t felt a single drop of temptation to break her vow of chastity.
Until Coulton walked into the bar.
She wouldn’t have thought the guy could get any sexier, but damn if he didn’t prove her wrong tonight. Watching him in front of that net, seeing his agility, his strength, his toughness, had lit a fire in her that no vibrator in the world could put out.
“If you’re having second thoughts…” he murmured, wrapping his arm around her waist, his chest pressed to her back.
“I’m not,” she hastened to reassure him, aware she’d probably given him that impression by standing by the window for so long.
“I’m just saying. I would understand. After last night…” He ran a hand through his hair as if he was the one having regrets. “Maybe we should talk first.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Ainsley,” he started, using that tone that said he wasn’t convinced she was okay.
She turned around, hating that the movement meant he was no longer holding her. “Erase it,” she said.
His brows furrowed in confusion.
“Give me a good memory to replace that one,” she clarified, her gaze holding his. “I need a good memory,” she added with a whisper.
What was it about this man that had her dropping her guard? She kept giving him peeks of her weaknesses, and she should hate it, but she couldn’t. Because he didn’t look at her like she was frail or helpless. He just…
God, right now was the perfect example. He was looking at her like she was strong, like she mattered.
Coulton cupped her cheek, his expression softening. “I’d like to be a good memory for you.”
“I want to be here,” she reassured him, turning her head slightly to press a kiss to his palm. “With you.”
Despite this being a risky decision on her part, she couldn’t help but feel like last night in Coulton’s amazing home had been similar to one of those vacations he’d talked about. He’d given her just what she needed. An escape from reality, from the horror of the night, from the hell that was her life.
He’d given her a bath, a healthy dinner, a soft bed, breakfast, and one whole night where she didn’t have to be on guard. Hell, he’d already given her a good memory.
“I feel safe here,” she added, feeling stupid the minute the admission crossed her lips.
Coulton nodded, the clouds in his eyes clearing. “You are safe here.” Stepping closer, he ran his finger gently along the bruise on her cheek. “Does it hurt?”
She shook her head. “No. Between last night’s bath and that ridiculously comfortable bed in your guest room, I’m feeling no pain. I can’t remember the last time I haven’t felt…” She paused.
What the hell was going on with her? Where had this Chatty Cathy come from? Ainsley always played her cards close to her chest. Always. But with Coulton, she’d lost her filter, her thoughts and feelings tumbling out of her.
“Haven’t felt what?” he prodded.
“Tired.”
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Stingrays Hockey - Recommended Reading Order
(standalone stories with interconnected characters)
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