“I’d better warm you up, then.” He brought her hands to his mouth again, blowing on her knuckles.

It wasn’t even a touch, but it sent a wave of scorching-hot desire slamming into her that made her forget all of the very good reasons why this was a very bad idea. “What are your plans for getting me warm?”

Her hard nipples pressing against the thin material of her tank top were directly at eye level. She could blame it on the cold, but her body was hot, overheated, even—and it had nothing to do with the temperature.

A mewling sigh sounded in her ears, soft and needy. It took her a second to realize the sound had come from her. Her hands still in his, he glanced up at her, his eyes dark with a possessive lust that made her core clench.

She wanted to straddle him, ride him, feel his cock rub up against every sensitive spot at the apex of her legs. She wanted to take him inside her, press her palms against the hard ridges of his abs, and ride him slow and sure. She wanted to be under him on the bed, pressed up against him with the wall at her back, and on her hands and knees as he pounded into her like she craved each time her fingers slid between her slick folds.

“Shelby…” He made her name sound like a naughty promise and a desperate plea as he stripped off his sweater. He let her hands go, obviously giving her the space to make the call. “How hot do you want to get?”

Tempting. So damn tempting. Her fingertips were tracing the line of his jaw, the coarse hair scraping her tender flesh before she even realized what she was doing. He didn’t touch her in return. He waited—patient, enticing, confident—letting her take the lead, as if he already knew what she’d say next. It wasn’t triumph in his dark eyes but pure focused need—all of it directed at her. It was incendiary to be at the center of it, and she was going up in flames.

She traced the line of his throat and across his corded shoulders, the whole time feeling like a woman who’d made this decision a million years ago and was only now admitting it. “No one could know, and it would have to be a different-zip-code-only thing.”

“There’s no one here I’d ever tell,” he said, his voice strained with need.

The springy hairs dusting his pecs tickled her fingers as she continued her explorations. “It can’t be anything more than just sex, and only this one time. You hockey players are off-limits for corporate.”

Okay, that was more for herself than Ian. It wasn’t like someone like him had ever had problems separating orgasms from something more.