Jenna

I feel like a spring that's about to snap. The tension is building in my abdomen. I can feel my breathing quicken. He knows exactly what he's doing. All I see is the top of his head as he trails kisses down my chest, across my stomach, and just below my waist. My panties are quickly discarded as his hands work painfully slow down to where I need them the most. He nips at my inner thigh, and I arch off of the bed, pressing myself closer to him. I hear him chuckle before he darts his sinful tongue out of his mouth and grows ever closer to my aching core. Just as he's about to land right where I need him, the annoying and persistent sound of my phone echoes through the room. I choose to ignore it and focus my attention back to the man between my legs. I hear the annoying sound again.

My eyes flash open, and I look down. No, no, no, no, no, no! Why!????

I was so close! And now I have to face the reality that it was all just a dream- a hot, sensual, ridiculously accurate dream. I didn't even get to see his face- the face of the sexy dream man who was so close to giving me what I wanted. All I know is he was incredibly skilled in the art of foreplay, and his tongue was about to unravel me. My phone is still sounding on my nightstand, and instantly I'm irritated. I don't have to work until later. Who the hell is trying to call me right now?

Dammit! Whoever that is will have hell to pay for interrupting that dream.

I pick my phone up and look at the name scrawled across my screen, silently cursing him for so rudely intruding on my sleep.

I swipe over my screen to answer the call. "For the love of God, this had better be good, Chase."

I hear the voice of my roommate on the other end of the line. "Hey, Tay, can you bring my jersey to the arena? I thought I had one in my bag, but I was wrong."

Seriously!? I got pulled from dream man for a freaking jersey!? I sigh. "I'll bring it, but you owe me."

Chase huffs out a relieved breath. "Thank you, Taylor! You're the best! And sorry for waking you up."

Dang, right you are! "Yeah, yeah. I'll bring the jersey over soon. Sit tight."

After hanging up with Chase, I try to shake off my frustration as I pull on a pair of leggings and my running shoes. I find the jersey in one of Chase's duffle bags and head out the door. I love him like a brother, but sometimes I just want to strangle him. That dream was just getting good.

~

When I make it to the arena, I head straight to the team locker room, greeting a few people I know on my way. Once outside the door that I need, I turn the knob and crack the door open slightly. It's not open enough that I can see inside, just enough that I can shout my warning before entering.

"Alright, boys, if you don't want me to see your junk, cover up now! I'm coming in!"

I pause for a solid five seconds before pushing the door open and going inside. My warning is rewarded with several laughs from the guys, but they were smart enough to cover themselves. They all know me by now. They know if I say I'm going to do something, then I'm going to do it. Everyone is already changed or mostly changed when I get inside, except for Damien- one of the goalies- who is standing by his locker proudly, showing off the fact that he is only wearing his jockstrap. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at his smirk and focus my attention on the person I'm here to see- or strangle; I still haven't decided yet- Chase.

He's waiting patiently by his locker. I stalk over to him and give him his jersey, reminding him that he owes me big time. I also mention that he interrupted a very good dream, and for that, I may never forgive him. He laughs at my confession after thanking me for doing him this solid and apologizes again for waking me up.

I'm about to turn and leave, but Chase stops me in my tracks. "Hey, Liam needs to see you before you head home. I told him you were bringing my jersey in and said he has some kind of emergency he needs your help with."

I love my job and I love my clients, but sometimes when they tell me they have an emergency, there is no actual emergency. I'm an account rep for an athletic company called AthletaWear. I contract with different athletes from the city's pro hockey and pro baseball teams and act as the go-between with them and the company for anything and everything AthletaWear related. If my clients have a photoshoot, I make sure everything is scheduled and ready ahead of time. If they have an issue with something in their contract, I mediate between them and the company's legal team. If they need a different flavor of protein bar at a press event, I get it for them. You name it, I've probably done it for these guys.

Liam is not only one of my AthletaWear clients, but he's also a good friend and one of my roommates. So, when Chase tells me Liam has an emergency, I start to wonder what exactly he's constituting as an emergency. One time he texted me and told me to call him because he had an emergency- he needed more of his favorite protein powder. Apparently we had run out at home.

Guess I'm starting work earlier than I thought today. Let's see what this emergency is. "Okay, where is he?"

Chase takes a look at his phone before responding. "He says he's in conference room A with the photographer."

I nod, remembering the photoshoot Liam was scheduled for today. "Shit. Okay, I'll head that way. Hopefully, it's nothing major."

Chase waves me off as I head for the door. Outside the locker room, I stop to send a quick text to Liam to let him know I'm coming. Just as I look up to start heading to the conference room, an unfamiliar male voice greets me.

"Hey there, gorgeous," the man says.

I respond as I take the guy in. He's about 6'2", with dark brown hair, blue eyes, and a ridiculously sexy smile. I wonder if this is the new guy. I know the new right-winger was supposed to show up soon. I've heard his name at least a hundred times recently. Tanner 'T.J.' Levine, hottest winger in Chicago, stud of the century, playboy, and the newest addition to the NYC Cobras- and my client roster for AthletaWear.

I've seen tabloid shots of him before, but those are all grainy. Seeing him in person is a whole different scenario. He's hot; there's no denying that. And I'm sure he has some tricks up his sleeve. A man with his reputation is probably very skilled in the art of...no, Jenna, don't go there! If this is the new guy, then no way in hell is that going to happen. Don't let your mind wander because you're sexually frustrated.

I have a strict rule against dating the players. Not only would it complicate things with work, but pro-athletes have a reputation for having scandalous private lives. And there's no way in hell I'm about to let myself get caught up in that kind of a mess. No way! I've had my heart broken enough already, and I have no desire to put myself in a situation that would only lead to tears and drama.

Mr. Sexy tells me he's part of the team. Yep, this has got to be T.J. Levine. He then offers me a tour and an introduction to the team. The cocky look in his eyes and the way he's letting his gaze drag up and down my body, tells me everything I need to know.

Oh, this is gold! He thinks I'm a freaking puck bunny! What an asshat!

I play along with him for a bit- let him think he's knabbed my interest. I have to resist my urge to laugh when he offers up tickets to a game and asks for my number. Oh, this poor guy has no idea!

I could be nice and tell him who I am- tell him I already know and work with the guys on the team, that I have season tickets in amazing seats right behind the glass. I could do that. Or I could leave him hanging. I could walk away and let him flounder- leave him with no name or number to remember me by. Let his ego take a hit. It's pretty massive; I'm sure the long-term damage will be minimal. Hmm, I think I'll let him suffer a bit.

I smirk at him. "You haven't even told me your name, and you want me to give you my number?"

My smirk only seems to egg him on. "I'm Tanner, Tanner Levine. Most people call me T.J."

This guy is so full of himself.

I hum to myself before I reply, "Well, Tanner, that's a real sweet offer, but I'm good."

I leave him stunned as I walk away. I can't help the smile that spreads across my lips as I stroll down the hallway. Just when I think the interaction is over, I hear him shout down the hall. He wants to know my name.

Before I realize what's happening, my feet come to a stop. I shake my head. I shouldn't tell him. I should let him stew longer. My traitorous mouth works against me as I turn my head and tell him, "It's Jenna."

I'm surprised I didn't copy his introduction and tell him my name is 'Jenna, Jenna Taylor, but you can call me Taylor.' At least I kept it somewhat professional. I gave him my real name instead of my nickname. I go by Jenna everywhere but in the hockey circle but I just met this guy- he doesn't need to know that- not yet anyway.

As I turn away, I don't miss the smile that curls on his lips. It's cocky, sexy, and probably earns him everything he wants under normal circumstances, but this current situation is far from the norm. This guy is used to getting what he wants. And now, because he knows my name, he thinks he's won me over.

Sorry Tanner Levine, I'm not breaking my rule for you. No matter how sexy your smile may be.