Perfect Sense (Perfect Series Book 1) (7 page)

Viktor shakes his head. “You don’t have to dress like that, to look amazing.” He motions at the two blondes hanging off of Cash’s arm.

In that instant, our eyes meet across the room and he smiles, such an arrogant pompous ass smile. His gaze shifts to Viktor and his hands around my waist. His eyes flicker with a possessive intensity, and his smile quickly fades to a fine line. He shakes the girls clean from his arms, and they both gasp and pout. He rolls his shoulders, clenching his jaw and stalks over in my direction.

He stops in front of me, staring at me in silence. A rush of arousal courses through my veins when I see the want in his eyes. Viktor’s hands drop from my waist and he takes a step back.

“Where’s Terry?” Cash asks.

“Looking for you,” I say as sweetly as possible.

Leaning down, he whispers in my ear, “Then why didn’t he bring you to me like I asked?”

“Because I’m not a prize, and I refuse to be treated like one.”

In one swift motion Cash scoops me up in his arms. Grinning, he carries me through the crowd.

“Put me down!” I hiss as Lyndsey and everyone else, all stare, dumbfounded.

My body pulses from being bound in his arms. I inhale his delicious scent, furious that he’s able to affect me like this. I can feel every pair of female eyes burning into me. I hear jealous whispers when he finally puts me down on a sofa and slides in next to me.

“Are you nuts?” I ask, shoving a few stray curls out of my face.

He sits, his hands tented in front of him. “What’s going on with Viktor?” he asks.

“Like you, he’s just a player on the team.”

Cash smiles one of his mouthwatering grins, assessing me, his eyes gliding down my body. I inhale a sharp breath, when he leans forward placing his mouth inches away from mine. “Good. Because I don’t share.”

A shiver moves through me, and I become tongue tied when I feel his thumb slowly running along my cheek.

He locks eyes with mine and cocks a brow. “Did you enjoy the game?”

“It was alright.”

“Did see my three goals?”

“Yeah, I saw them.”

“And?” he drawls.

“And what?”

He wraps one of my curls around his finger. “And what did you think?”

I shrug, not wanting to boost his already humongous ego. “Not much. That’s the point of the game, isn’t it? To score goals.”

He looks aghast at my response. “Yeah, but it’s not every day that someone scores a hat trick.”

I shrug. “It was mildly entertaining. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

He clears his throat, leaning in closer. “A deal’s a deal, Mittens. Tell me, do you like Italian or Mexican?”

“Men?” I ask, knowing exactly what he is referring to.

“Come on, Mittens. Don’t act like you’ve forgotten our little agreement. You said if I scored a hat trick, you’d let me take you out for dinner.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You mean a business dinner?”

“No.” He shakes his head, bringing his eyes in line with mine. “A dinner where I get to know the real Quinn Ashby.”

Before I can even respond, I spot three girls, no older than me, standing in a trio to the left of him. The first brunette slowly crawls up against his side and covers his eyes with her hands. She leans forward and coos in his ear. “Guess who…”

He grabs her hands and flips her around into his lap. Her high-pitched giggling makes me want to gag. The other two girls—a second brunette and a tiny redhead—slide their behinds onto the coffee table in front of the sofa, smiling coyly at Cash.

“Angela, can’t you see that I’m busy right now?” He places the first brunette on her feet.

“With her?” she coos, straightening out her dress. “Come on, Cash, don’t be like that. I’ve been waiting for you all night.” Her voice is so sweet it could be liquid sugar.

Cash looks even sexier as he shifts on the sofa, grinning and relaxed. The bar lights slant across his face and illuminate his flawless skin “Why don’t you get me a drink?” he asks Angela. “The usual.”

The redhead moves behind him. Propped on the sofa’s back, she massages his shoulders. The second brunette straddles his groin as Angela toddles off to the bar in her stripper heels to do his bidding. She flips her hair and smiles back at Cash and her puck-bunny friends.

I scoot to the far end of the sofa. Watching these girls paw him reminds me that there is no way I’d ever want to be drawn into this lifestyle. These girls confirm why I’m right to keep my distance from Cash Brooks.

Confusion clouds his face when I stand and say, “See ya.”

I turn my back and march for the elevator. I don’t stop until I step out into the cool night air.

Coming here was a big mistake, for more than one reason. Everywhere I see Cash, it’s like watching a soft-core porno. I know he doesn’t owe me any explanations, but the man is really messing with my head. He makes me feel things I’ve never felt before, and this whole unexpected lusting after him bit is really screwing with my hormones. It is so unlike me.

I raise my hand to hail a cab. When it pulls up to the curb, I open the door, relieved the night is almost over.

In one strong, fluid motion, I am yanked backward and the taxi door is slammed shut. Cash spins me around, pinning me against the cab. “You can’t leave yet.” His hard warm body cages me, and all I can smell is him, a sultry sexy him.

When his thumb brushes against my lips, I let out a breath. “Yes. I. Can. Now get your hands off me.”

He takes a step back, and I scoot away from him as far as my body will allow, pressing against the passenger door of the taxi.

“One of these days, you will be begging me to touch you.” He flashes his patented dimpled smile, but he’s watching each heavy breath I take, as if he’s trying to figure me out.

“I’m serious, Brooks. I’m not like those girls who were all over you tonight.”

“I know. You’re feisty, impossible and downright sexy. You’re nothing like any girl I’ve ever met.” He moves closer and trails his fingertips up my arm.

Damn him. I hate the way his touch ignites and electrifies my skin.

“Is everything okay?” The cab driver sticks his head out of his window. “Do you still need a ride?”

“No, she doesn’t,” Cash says.

“Hey man, aren’t you Cash Brooks?” the cab driver asks.

Cash nods, taking another step away from me.

“Great game tonight. I was listening to the radio on my shift. A hat trick, huh? If you keep it up, you’ll be back on the Tornados in no time.”

“Thanks. No cab needed though. I’ll make sure she gets home safely. Have a good night.” Cash smiles back, even though I can feel him watching me from his peripheral vision.

When the cab driver pulls into oncoming traffic, I sigh, exasperated. “Great. Now I need to call for one. Thanks, Brooks.”

“Don’t go.” He shakes his head. “I want to get to know you better.”

“Well, I don’t want to get to know you. You and I are worlds apart.” I say and pull out my phone to call another cab.

Cash grabs my hand, glaring down at me with his hot blue eyes. “I guarantee we’re more alike than you think.” When I don’t say anything in response, he lets go of my hand, smiling at me with an amused grin. “If you’re going to go, then let me bring you home, not some cab.”

Was he seriously offering me a ride home? Sure, I wanted to get out of here, but could I really trust myself alone with him? I look up and meet his eyes, which look intently back at me. He looks concerned, even worried that I’d refuse him. His eyes are softer than I’ve ever seen them before. It had me second guessing my callous impression of him.

“You can’t drive. Haven’t you been drinking?” I ask.

“I don’t drive. That’s what limo drivers are for, Mittens.”

Ten minutes later, I am sitting in the back of a limo, alone with Cash in complete silence. He hasn’t stopped staring at me, studying me with his eyes, while sipping on a tall glass of soda water and lime he poured himself from the bar.

As I tap out at text to Lyndsey, Cash leans over and says, “You know, you can pretend like you don’t like me, but I know that you do.” His lips brush my temple, and I feel his touch all the way to my toes.

“No, I don’t,” I insist, even though my body tingles and my heart beats violently in my chest.

“Liar.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

“Looks like you’re the one who likes me.” I try not to blush as I motion my head at the bulge pushing through his dress pants.

“Good eyes, Mittens.” Cash’s baby blues sparkle as he sits there, his thick, muscular legs spread.

“Typical,” I snort, taking my gaze away from his crotch.

“Typical what?” He drapes his arm behind me on the long leather seat. He’s not touching me, but I’m acutely aware his nearness.

I sit up straighter. “Typical hockey player. You guys are all the same.”

“How so?” His dimples deepen into his scruffy cheeks, but his eyes look hungry. He shoves his wavy honey hair out of his face and angles his body toward me.

I fiddle with my necklace, wishing I’d never started this conversation. “Come on, Cash. Have you forgotten who my father is? He’s warned me all my life about guys like you. You all think that because you’re ridiculously overpaid to skate around the ice bashing brains in that you’re somehow entitled to a different girl every night. Did it even occur to you that maybe I actually don’t want you.”

“So why do I make you so nervous?” He smiles smugly. “You’re messing with your necklace like it’s a cross you’re about to flash at a vampire.”

I shiver when his fingers brush my collarbone and slowly tug on the long silver chain. As he drags it upwards, the
Atlas medallion pendant
grazes along my breasts. I shiver more.

“That’s a nice necklace.” He twirls the disc between his fingers, studying it. “Did your boyfriend give it to you?”

“Fishing, Brooks? I don’t have a boyfriend. Not that it’s any of your business.” I snatch the necklace out if his hand and tuck the chain into my shirt. “And I don’t need a guy to buy me jewelry. I made it.”

“Really? It looked expensive.”

“Well, it’s not. I make jewelry in my spare time. It’s a hobby.” My pulse kicks into overdrive when he studies the spot where the necklace disappeared. I scoot away before he decides to reach for it again. “I make all kinds of things. Rings, bracelets, earrings…”

His eyes are on my face, studying me with what seems to be genuine interest. “Can you make me something?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Like what? Would you like to put in an order for one of your hussies?”

“You’re too suspicious, Mittens. Can’t you make men’s jewelry? Like a ring or something?”

“I am not putting a ring on your finger.”

He laughs, and I make the mistake of shifting my gaze downward to his lips. When the heated silence becomes too much to handle, I ask, “Don’t you have any hobbies, Brooks?”

He smiles. “Define hobbies.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Calculating the notches on your belt doesn’t count.”

He shakes his head in amusement. “Okay, well, if that doesn’t count, then I guess my hobby would be that I collect vinyl.”

“Like old records?”

He nods, inching his way closer. “Yeah, I love all kinds of music. And I would buy pretty much anything I could play on one of my mother’s old turn tables.” And before I can even comprehend what’s happening, he cradles the back of my neck in his strong hand, his eyes burning into mine. “What about you, Mittens? Tell me something else about you.”

I swallow hard. “Like what?”

Cash’s arousing smell surrounds me as he says against my lips. “Like what it’s going to take for me to have you?”

I shake my head. “Not going to happen, Brooks.”

“Why’s that?” He wraps his fingers in my curls, and a tiny sound escapes my lips. He brushes his thumb against my cheek. “You’re gorgeous and I want you. Isn’t that enough?”

“You think I’m gorgeous?” The quiver in my voice is undeniable. I fight not to melt in his arms.

Cash moves his hands down my sides and stops at my hips. “Come on, Mittens. You’re gorgeous and you know it.” He slips his fingers under the hem of my shirt, touching my bare back “I want you, Mittens. Bad.”

I shiver, feeling his strong warm hands continue to snake their way up my spine.
Don’t give in! You will regret this in the morning.
Clearing my throat, I wrap my five fingers around his tie, pulling him into my chest. “I’m not some puck bunny.”

His mouth is so close to mine; I can feel the heat from his breath. “Just because I invited you to the after-party and said you’re gorgeous, you think I’m treating you like a puck bunny?”

I laugh. “Yes. And the last thing I should have done was come to the party.”

Cash pauses, his hands cradling either side of my face. “Why? What’s the big deal?”

“Are you kidding? You and I both know what those parties are all about. I work for the Bruisers as the marketing coordinator, not the team escort.” Letting go of his tie, I shove him backward against the hard leather.

“Come on, Mittens, you don’t think I know that?”

“Then why did you invite me there? From what I saw there were more than enough women at that party fawning over you.”

He leans forward, touching my lips with his finger, silencing me. “Yeah, but, I don’t want those women. I want you.”

“I find that hard to believe.” I roll my eyes.

“What’s your deal, Quinn?” He grips my grin and brings my gaze in line with his. “Why are you so uptight?”

For a moment, the limo is silent and all I can hear is my heart beating loudly in my chest. And even though I barely know him, the way his eyes study me, tells me he can see right into the constant ache I have buried deep inside. But I will never admit anything out loud, because that would mean someone like Cash, a hot tempered bad boy with a terrible case of womanizing-syndrome would be the one to break me.

“I’ve had to grow up pretty fast,” I feel him wrap his free hand around my nape, brushing a ringlet of hair away from my eyes. “And if you must know, I’ve had a rough couple of weeks and a lot of people I refuse to disappoint. And as far as I am concerned, you’re a road block on my path to success.”