Bet On It: An Age Gap Billionaire Office Romance(41)

She looked at me for a moment longer and then with a smile, got another cookie and came to sit next to me. "I'm pretty sure I'm an expert now. Speaking of gambling and being an expert, isn't it against the rules for you and Bo to be making wagers?"

I shrugged. "It was just a little bet. The kid is cocky, and I decided to encourage him to put his money where his mouth was."

"It sounds like he won."

"He did. Speaking of wagers, I've got one for you. For each question I ask, you can use this private box each time you get one right."

Her eyes narrowed. “And if I get it wrong?"

I was taking a big risk, but damn it, I was having a hard time not touching her. "If you get it wrong, you have to kiss me." I expected her to pull away and remind me of all the reasons we couldn't be together.

"You seem to think that I haven’t been paying attention, but I have. As long as you play fair, I am certain I'll be able to answer all your questions."

I stared into the depths of her dark eyes, willing her to give in to me. To this thing between us. "Well then, you shouldn't have any problem with taking on this bet."

She held up her wine glass. "You're on."

I clinked my glass with hers. "What is it called when a hockey player pulls the stick back almost to parallel to the ice, and then swings forward to hit the puck?"

She smiled victoriously. "A slapshot."

"And what is the other type of shot a player can take?"

"A wrist shot."

So she was paying attention. "What is it called when one player slams into another player?"

"Checking."

"What is it called when a player scores three times in one game?" I wondered if my line of questioning was too easy.

“Hat trick.” She sipped her wine, her eyes glinting in triumph at me.

"Which type of shot is harder for a goalie to stop? The slapshot or the wrist shot?"

She looked as if she was going to answer but then stopped, her eyes turning away and her brow furrowing. "Did you tell me that one?"

I nodded. “I did."

"Okay, give me a minute? Can you give me a hint?"

My eyes had already settled on her lips, intending to have her pay up on the bet. "I told you about it when I was explaining the T-push maneuver the goalie was doing."

She bit her lower lip, and I really wanted to cross the distance between us and nibble on her lip myself.

Her gaze looked up at me. "I have to guess. The slapshot looks harder and faster."

“Is that your answer?”

Indecision hung on her face, but she nodded.

Triumph filled my chest. "Wrong."

"Really?"

I moved closer to her and was pleased that she didn't move away. "You're right in that the slapshot is harder and faster, but it takes longer to pull off. The goalie can see the stick coming back and therefore anticipate the shot. The wrist shot is quick and harder for the goalie to anticipate."

I pushed a tendril of her hair behind her ear, letting my fingers caress down her neck. I loved the way her eyes closed and her breath hitched at my touch. If she was going to tell me to stop or bring up her concerns, that was the time to do it. If I were a better man, I wouldn't ask her to pay the bet. But I wasn't a better man, and unless she told me to stop right now, I was going to collect my winnings.

"I still got more right than wrong,” she whispered.

"True. You have access to this room for three games. Maybe you could bring your friend Betts. The aggression of the game will help her get over her two-timing fiancé."

Analyn's eyes rounded and then she smiled. "That's a great idea."

"Now, how about paying on your wager?"

"You like playing with fire, don't you, Reed?"

I inched closer, hoping my nearness tempted her as much as it tempted me. "I think I've already told you that you are irresistible to me."

"Well, I wouldn't want to be known as somebody who didn't pay their bets. If I didn't, would you send somebody to come break my kneecaps?"

I shook my head. "If you don't want to pay up on the bet, you don't have to." As I inched closer, her eyes clouded and her cheeks flushed, telling me she wanted this. She wanted to kiss me. "But you did make the bet. You don't want to be known as somebody who backs out on their bets, do you?"

Her gaze had drifted down to my lips. "No."

For a moment, I wasn't sure if her answer was no, she didn't want me to kiss her or no, she didn't want to be known as someone who reneged on their word.

"I'll pay my bet." In the next instant, her lips were on mine, and I did my damnedest to keep the kiss within acceptable limits. But it didn't take long for desire to rush through me, for need to coil tight and beg for release.

I groaned, tilting my head, my tongue sliding through the seam of her lips, rejoicing when they parted and she let me in.

Just a kiss, just a kiss, I repeated in my head to stop myself from pushing her back on the couch and taking everything I wanted. But a moment later, she was on her back and I was over her, my hands sliding underneath her shirt to touch that creamy, soft skin of hers.

"You're like a drug, and I'm so fucking addicted," I murmured against her lips as I settled my hips between her legs and ground against her.