It took her a moment to notice me, but when she did, a gasp left her mouth as her neck craned to look up at me. Leaning one elbow on the counter, I smiled at her.
“Hi there . . .” I checked her name tag. “Emily. I’m with the hockey team staying here, and our travel coordinator found my phone and told me to retrieve it from her room. For some reason, that part of her message on my hotel phone was difficult to understand, and I was really hoping you could let me know which room Hannah Moreau is staying in.”
To her credit, the woman hesitated for a moment. She was trying to decide if she should divulge the information.
Playing to her concerns, I offered, “You know what? I don’t want you to get in trouble. I can survive until breakfast without my phone. It’s just . . . My wife is pregnant back home, and I worry, you know? In case there’s an emergency.”
Was I proud of trying to manipulate this desk clerk? No, but Hannah drove me to the point of insanity. She wasn’t going to get away with putting on a show to make me jealous.
I turned to leave and made it half a step before she called out, “Wait!”
Got ‘er.
The short brunette peered at me from beneath her glasses, biting her lip. “I’m really not supposed to do this . . .”
“Like I said, I can make it until morning,” I reassured her.
“What was the name again?”
“Moreau.”
Typing furiously on her keyboard, she paused. “I have two rooms under that name.”
Nodding, I confirmed, “Ah, yes. Ace Moreau is our coach. Hannah is his daughter. I need Hannah’s room, please.”
“She’s in room 403.”
Flashing her with a dazzling smile, I gushed, “You are a lifesaver. Thank you, Emily.”
Oh, Hannah, you’re about to learn what happens when you poke the bear.
It just so happened that the ice machine was located across the hall from Hannah’s room on the fourth floor. Hiding out there, I waited for her return.
I wanted to believe she wasn’t so foolish as to bring Jersey Boy back to her room, but you never knew with Hannah.
Not having to wait too long—she must’ve lost interest without an audience to provoke—Hannah arrived at the door to her hotel room. Patiently, I held my position across the hall until she had the door unlocked and open before I made my move.
With two strides, I caught the door, seconds before it was about to close. My anger hadn’t subsided yet, so I forcefully slammed it open hard enough to bang against the opposite wall before letting it shut behind me.
Hannah’s scream of surprise was so fucking satisfying.
Not allowing her a chance to spin around and see who’d barged into her room, I pushed her face-first against the wall. Pressing my body into hers from behind, I knew the exact moment she felt my erection against her back.
Stiffening, she whimpered, “Please. I have money. If I can just get to my wallet.”
Dipping my head, I let her sweat it out a minute longer before whispering darkly, “I don’t want your fucking money.”
Sagging in relief that I wasn’t some random stranger there to violate her, Hannah breathed out, “Cal.”
Keeping her firmly pressed against the wall, I kicked her feet apart. Reaching one hand down, I skimmed under her short skirt until I reached the edge of her panties. Slipping beneath the barrier between her thighs, I found her soaked.
“Are you wet for me right now? Or forhimfrom earlier?“ Just the thought of her being turned on by that tool in the bar threatened my self-control.
“You. I swear,” Hannah said, her voice breaking.
Tsking, I challenged, “Unfortunately for you, there’s no way to prove it.”
“He means nothing. I only wanted attention,” she confessed.
