Clipped by Love Page 11


“Wait, what just happened?” Jude asks, pointing from the net to her.

“I think she just fucking scored,” Jace says, his face full of shock like mine. “From the line.”

“Yeah, that’s how, right? Hit the pipe?” she asks innocently. “Or was I supposed to get it in the net?”

“No, you’re right. I just can’t believe you scored,” Jace says, still visibly dumbfounded.

“Oh, awesome,” she says with a grin, leaning down to test the blade of the stick again. She then reaches for one of the other sticks, doing the same. She is obviously satisfied better with the new one and looks at me expectantly. Tilting my head to the side, I replay what just happened and then what she is doing right now. I see Delanie shaking her head almost like she is embarrassed, her sister doing the same, covering her face, and I know that something is up. I start to chuckle as I skate to the net, getting the puck and then sending it to her, hard. When she stops it with ease, I know this girl is a big fat liar.

“Play a bit, huh?”

She eyes me as she shrugs. “Just a bit.”

But once we start playing, I know I’m right. We give her a little room, not trying to crowd her and be assholes, but once she scores again and then again, I know she plays more than a bit. I go to cover her, but Jace cuts in front of me, going for the puck. But she steals it back, goes through my legs, then through fucking Jude’s and shoots, scoring for a fourth time in a row.

Glaring at her as she innocently skates back to the pink line, I decide I’m over having our asses handed to us.

Passing the puck back to her, I say, “I think you’re full of it.”

“Full of it?” she asks, holding my gaze as I skate toward her. Sweat is dripping down her neck, down into the valley of her tits, and it’s very distracting, but I refuse to allow her to use her hotness to throw me off my game.

“Yeah, I think you’ve played a bit more than a little bit.”

Grinning, she bats her eyes, and I can’t help but grin back as she asks, “You do?” -

“Maybe we should start cooking?” Delanie asks, but both of us ignore her.

“I do, and you’re going down,” I say, lining up in front of her.

“Is that right?” she asks, her eyes challenging mine, and soon my body is so fucking hot, I feel like I’m dizzy. I love a girl who has confidence, but even more, a girl who has a competitive bone. She moves the puck back and forth, holding my gaze as I nod. I don’t know what she is thinking, but man, I’d pay to be in her brain.

Because I can’t figure out if she wants to fuck me or beat me.

Maybe even both.

Clearing my throat, I say, “Oh yeah.”

Her eyes darken and sharpen a bit before she asks, “Are you challenging me?”

“Yeah,” I say, moving my neck back and forth to pop it. I then say, “Jude, Jace, step off.”

“Huh?” Jace calls out.

“I’m about to kick this girl’s ass at some one-on-one,” I say, my eyes never leaving hers.

She laughs, moving the puck around in circles, trying to distract me, but I’m not some rookie. I know what she is doing, and she’s fucking going down.

And then I’m going to have sex with her.

“Are you serious?” Jude asks. “She’s getting lucky breaks; it’s not a big deal.”

“No, it is,” I say, looking at the top of her head. “She thinks she’s good and that we won’t play hard against her. Time to show her that I will.”

She laughs at that, shaking her head. “Oh, get over yourself.”

Locking gazes, we both glare at each other as silence fills the air.

“Maybe we should cook,” Delanie suggests.

“Yeah, I’m hungry,” her sister says.

Looking at me, her eyes are sparkling as she says, “Yeah, maybe we should eat.”

“No, me and you have business to tend to.”

“You can’t beat me,” she says under her breath, looking down at the puck and then back at me.

“Oh, I can,” I challenge back.

“Are you sure?”

“Damn right, I can,” I say, squaring my shoulders.

She eyes me, a little sneaky smirk on her face. “Hmm. Sure.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

But she doesn’t move. Grinning, she says, “Maybe I should know your name before I kick your ass. I heard it was Jamie, but I don’t think you’re a Jamie.”

“You think right, sweetheart, it’s Jayden Sinclair.”

Still smiling, her eyes cut to me as she says, “I’m not your sweetheart.”

“My apologies. Tell me your name so that when I’m scoring multiple times, I can yell it out each time.”

Her throat flushes with color as her mouth lifts up at the side. “It’s Baylor Moore,” she says, backing up a bit, still moving the puck with ease in and out of her legs. “And you won’t be scoring today, buddy.”

Scoffing, I look up from the puck but still keep it in my peripheral gaze since I don’t trust her at all. “Hmm, that’s up for debate. But good luck to you, Baylor.”

With a heated gaze, she says, “Oh, there isn’t a debate. You will not score, and I don’t need luck, Sinclair. But you, you might need it.”

“I, again, think that’s up for debate.”

She shrugs. “Fine, then I hope you’re ready to beg for mercy, because I’m about to murder you.”

I want to laugh. I want to wrap my arms around her and kiss the shit out of her. But first, I have to beat her. I’ve never met someone who wanted to challenge me like this, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t turned on to the point of pain. Not that I would ever let her know that. No, she is my competitor at this moment.

Holding her gaze, I say, “Bring it.”

Stopping the puck, her eyes bore into mine as she moves the puck between us, lining it up like a face-off before sending me a grin. She is going for the tough-guy act, but I see the heat and determination in her eyes. She wants me, but she wants to beat me more. I don’t know which one is hotter. Swallowing hard, I suck in a deep breath, pushing my desire back into its cage and unlocking the fury that I’m about to unleash on her.

She may be a girl, but she’s going the fuck down.

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