“Condom,” she whispered.
Not that protection really worked the first time, but hey.
Lance nodded. He reached into his pants, drew a condom from his wallet, tore the package open, and rolled the rubber down his impressive girth. Paige beckoned him with her finger,come hither,and gave him her bedroom eyes …
But both their heads jerked to the side when a sudden noise interrupted them.
It was a pounding at the door.
Chapter 11
Lance
“Who is it?” Lance snarled, hoping thatwhoeverwas on the other side of that door would figure outreal quickthat this wasnota good time.
Because he wasn't about to jump out of bed for one of his teammates' dumb pranks. Not with a rubber on, and certainly not with this little Nashville hottie all wet and ready for him. Hell, the girl was flushed bright red—her skin burning hot to the touch—and Lance could onlyimaginehow hot and tight her pussy would be …
But then he heard the only words that couldkill the mood.
“Lance, it's Mr. Tremblay, open up right now!”
Startled, Lance sat up.Shit, does this have something to do with those Kip Sterling phone calls I rejected?
“Can you give me a few minutes?” Lance asked, suddenly sounding a lot more polite.
“No! Open up, now!”
“Fuck,” Lance hissed quietly.
“Who's that?” Paige whispered, pulling the bed sheets up her naked body and covering her breasts.
“That's the general manager of my hockey team.”
“Fantastic.” Paige buried her face in her hands. She looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die. “Are you in trouble, Lance?”
“Might be,” Lance said with a sigh as he hopped out of bed. He stuffed his erection into his trousers as best he could. He went to the door and cracked it open. Mr. Tremblay didn't look happy to start with, but he looked even less happy when he realized Lance wasn't opening the door any wider.
“Lance, I told you, open up. We'vegotto talk.”
Lance shook his head. “I can't. You caught me at a bad time, Mr. Tremblay.”
But Mr. Tremblay—a former player back in his youth—had a short temper. He didn't like being told no once he'd lost his temper. He summoned the ox-like strength he was known for in his playing days, lowered his shoulder, and charged. Mr. Tremblay bowled through the door, and Lance staggered backwards.
“Hey, what the hell, Mr. Tremblay!”
“I said, weneedto talk!”
“I told you, this isn't a good time.”
Mr. Tremblay, intruding in the hotel room, suddenly saw why. His head tilted as he saw the red-faced girl cowering under the bed sheets. “You've got a girl? Oh, that's just great, Lance.”
Paige stared back at Mr. Tremblay, her eyes huge, her mouth drawn open in shock. She couldn't possibly look any more mortified if she'd tried. Thankfully, she was fully covered, but still …
“Sorry to intrude, miss,” Mr. Tremblay said. He seemed to stare at Paige for a second too long.
“Sure,” Paige said with a defeated sigh.
Lance grabbed Mr. Tremblay by the shoulder and turned him around. “Okay, let's give her a little privacy, yeah?” He walked his boss back to the door. “Give me a few minutes. I'll get dressed and then we'll talk.”
