If You Need Me (Toronto Terror #3) Read Online Helena Hunting

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Toronto Terror Series by Helena Hunting
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Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 124005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
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“Why does Topher have it out for you?”

“Just because I’m me, I think.” I hug his arm. “He and I have never really gotten along, but it doesn’t help my case that I’m involved with you now.”

He frowns. “I made your job harder, didn’t I?”

I shrug. “Your heart was in a good place. You’re a famous hockey player dating someone who works for the team. I’m the unscrupulous woman who seduced a player.”

“Excuse me, I had to force you into a fake relationship to even get you to kiss me. And that was mostly under duress.” He tries to make light of it, but his eyes drop to my lips, like he’s remembering those kisses.

“Stop looking at me like that.” I hold up a hand to shield my eyes. “Your thoughts are written all over your face, and they’re obscene.”

He pulls my hand away and bites my knuckle. “Want to get dirty with me later?”

“Only if you can behave while we’re in public.”

His lip curls in a salacious grin. “I can be good. But only for you.” He stops in front of my favorite mani-pedi place and opens the door.

“You scheduled me a manicure?”

“No. You had your nails done before we left for the weekend. I scheduled us both for pedicures.”

I smile up at him. I’ve never been with someone who pays this kind of attention to what I like. “Yeah, you did.”

His answering grin melts hearts and panties. “You approve.”

“I absolutely approve.” I push up on my toes and kiss the edge of his jaw. He is terrifyingly amazing.

He laces our fingers as we enter the spa and they get us settled in two chairs. Anita, my usual technician, passes me a gossip magazine.

“What’s that?” Dallas asks.

“You won’t poke fun, if you know what’s good for you.” I arch a meaningful brow.

Paramita, another technician, sits in front of Dallas.

“Hi. I’m sorry my feet aren’t as pretty as Hemi’s. I’m Dallas, and she’s the love of my life.”

Paramita laughs. “I know who you are. My husband and son are Terror fans.”

“Oh yeah? Who are their favorite players?”

“My son adores you, and my husband is a Hollis Hendrix fan.”

“Hendrix has been with the team a long time.”

Dallas settles in and keeps Anita and Paramita entertained by telling them how he’s known me since kindergarten. “She was the first person to learn how to tie her shoes, and she spent all of play time teaching everyone else until they mastered it.”

“That sounds like Hemi,” Anita says. “So how did you two finally end up together?”

“I saw some guy making her uncomfortable and couldn’t stand it, so I went over to make sure she was okay. One thing led to another, and I figured eventually I would convince her I was good boyfriend material, and now here I am.” He props his chin on his fist and smiles at me. “With my favorite toe keeper. Always keeping me on my toes.”

An hour later, I have blue toenails and Dallas has kept Anita and Paramita in stitches with stories of all his flubbed promo ops. We grab takeout and head back to his place. “I can’t sleep over again tonight,” I warn as we take the elevator to his penthouse.

He frowns. “Why not?”

I smooth the line between his eyes. “Because I slept like garbage this weekend, first from the sexual tension and then the actual sex. I need to sleep tonight so I can function tomorrow.”

“What if I just spoon you all night?”

“If you get spoony with me, you’ll get a hard-on, and then you’ll rub it on my ass, and we both know what that will lead to.” I won’t be able to resist Dallas or the D. I know this already.

“We can have early sex and be in bed by nine.”

My eyes slide closed. “I can’t believe you’re trying to negotiate sex with me.”

“Is it working?”

“No.” Absolutely yes, it is.

He cages me against the mirrored wall and drags his lips along the edge of my jaw. “I’m desperate for the taste of you, honey. I need to be inside you, and I need the sound of my name on your perfect, pretty lips when I’m making you come.”

“We’re in bed by nine—nine thirty at the latest—and if you rub your hard-on on my ass in the middle of the night, I will make sure you regret it.”

He backs off, eyes dark and smile full of primal satisfaction. “No rubbing my hard-on on your ass in the middle of the night.” He gives me the Boy Scout salute. “I promise I’ll make every orgasm worth your while.” He steps back as the elevator dings, signaling our arrival at the penthouse floor.

I half expect him to get me naked the second we walk in the door. But instead, he cues up one of my favorite movies to watch while we eat takeout. It’s already eight by the time we’re done with dinner. He puts the leftovers in the fridge, and I excuse myself to the bathroom to freshen up.


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