Sweet Victory: BTU Alumni Series Book #3

by Ciz, Alley

  “Vin, chill. You know you’re going to be godfather to this one. Stop being greedy.” Rocky rolled her eyes at him, before narrowing them as if she had X-ray vision and could assess his injuries with a look. To be fair, she usually could. “What do you need ice for?”

  He pulled his shirt over his head. It took everything in him not to smirk when he heard Holly hiss in a breath as his torso was bared. In his peripheral vision, he could see the way her eyes scanned him from head-to-toe. He looked good. He trained his ass off every day, earning each defined cut and ridge of muscle on his body. Now that he was cutting weight for a fight, those lines were only getting more pronounced.

  It wasn’t the lust in her eyes that stood out—he had seen that the other day before he kissed her—it was the way they softened in concern as she locked in on the giant bruise on his ribs.

  “Damn, I got you good, pretty boy.” Griff whistled in appreciation as he walked in from the hallway and took in his handy work.

  “Yeah, well, I was a little distracted today.” His eyes tracked back to Holly, as did every other set in the room.

  Subtle, his friends were not.

  “Whatever you say, Steele. You know I own your ass in the ring. Anyway”—Griff tossed his phone to him—“you left this back in the apartment. Jase has been blowing it up. Probably too late for him to see your response seeing as he’s out on the ice. But at least this way he’ll have them by the time the first intermission rolls around.” He pointed to where the Storm/Bruisers game was about to start.

  “Umm…” Holly’s hesitant voice sounded, and he wasn’t able to stop his smirk as he knew exactly what she was about to ask. “You live in this building too?”

  “Sure do.” His smile was full-on Big Bad Wolf. “Right across the hall, in fact.” He moved to her, bending to speak in her ear, inhaling the heady scent of sugar and vanilla on her skin. “You can run, Cupcake, but you can’t hide.”

  She shuddered at his words. When he stood up, every one of his friends was staring.

  Whatever.

  He wanted Holly.

  He would have her.

  Case closed.

  * * *

  Holly had no idea how to start processing everything she had learned over the past week. There was meeting Vince, learning her friends were friends with professional athletes, finding a new place to live only to learn temptation incarnate lived across the hall, and her brain was flashing not enough memory.

  She had made it through two periods of hockey so far, learning the basics of the game from this ragtag group of people that had already declared her a member of their squad.

  Vince, however, had kept his distance after whispering his dark promise in her ear. And from his sinful lips it was definitely a promise, not a threat.

  She made a valiant effort not to appear affected by his words, but by the dimple in his left cheek peeking out, she wasn’t fooling him.

  She wanted him—bad.

  And the jerk knew it.

  She was royally screwed.

  In her attempt to ignore him and how goddamn sexy he was or how flipping adorable he was playing with the Donovan twins, she focused her attention on the third period of the game. It was a nail-biter, the two teams still scoreless. There was a lot of colorful language each time Jase Donnelly went toe-to-toe with the Bruisers' enforcer, and he had spent his fair share of time in a timeout everyone called "the sin bin."

  For as violent as the game had been, Jase looked no worse for wear as the camera panned over him bumping knuckles with two guys in Bruisers jerseys behind the glass.

  “Sometimes you are just the best brother ever when you go all media darling on me,” Jordan spoke to the TV like her twin could hear her.

  “I resent that,” Ryan said.

  “Oh, shush.”

  “Umm…shouldn’t he be doing that with Storm fans though?” Holly asked. She might be a hockey novice, but she knew the black and gold jerseys the fans wore were for the team from Boston and not the home team.

  “Yeah. But those two guys are our friends. They played with us back at BTU,” Jake explained.

  “And those amazing boys managed to get a picture of the moment from someone sitting a few seats over from them. Let’s get this bad boy trending,” Skye said, tapping away on her phone. “I don’t know, Cap, looks like you’re falling down Jor’s favorite brother scale.”

  “How quickly you forget my man and I were trending early today.” Ryan clapped Jake on the shoulder.

  “Uh-huh.” Skye continued on her phone. “I wonder who will get more likes.”

  “Them be fighting words, Miss Masters,” Ryan threatened.

  “Whatever you say, Cap. Whatever you say.”

  “You know what? Fine.” In a flash, Ryan was up from the floor and dropping down beside Maddey as she typed away on the MacBook Pro in her lap. “Say cheese, Madz.” He held his phone out, the two of them mugging it up for the camera, posing like they were typing on the computer.

  Phones around the room pinged with social media notifications after he posted the picture. Leaning to the left, Holly read the caption on Becky’s screen.

  @CaptainRyanDonnelly9: Broadening my horizons, jumping in as a co-author with @AuthorBelleWillis since she will no longer let me help her with the sexy times inspiration. #NewCareer #BestFriendsForever #TooMuchPower #FutureBestSeller #NotJustACoverModel

  She scanned the words once more, her gaze snapping to the pair as they registered. “You’re Belle Willis?”

  Lyle and Kyle were officially dead men. Not telling her one of her favorite authors was not only their friend but worked out of their coffee shop most days of the week…it was unforgivable.

  “That would be me,” Maddey answered.

  “Those Samson men are dead,” she deadpanned. “I love your books. Like seriously love them,” she fangirled.

  How did she not recognize Maddey sooner? She internet stalked the woman on all her social media accounts and was an active member in her reader group on Facebook. It must have been the name that prevented her from seeing something right in front of her face.

  “Wait a second.” She held up her hands in a T shape. “Are you writing one of your books right now?”

  “Yup. I'm working on the tenth book in my hockey boys series.”

  “But you only just released book eight a week ago.” She'd devoured it the day it hit her Kindle.

  “I’m always a book or two ahead when I release. It helps keep the stress of deadlines to a minimum, but it doesn’t always work out that way.”

  For the next twenty minutes, all thoughts of hockey games or too-sexy-for-their-own-good fighters were forgotten as she got to live every romance junkie’s dream of getting a behind-the-scenes look at what was in the works for one of her favorite cast of characters.

  It wasn’t until she stepped out of her bedroom after making a pitstop to use the restroom that she was reminded of the allure of Vince Steele. There was no way to avoid it when she bounced off his hard-as-steel—yes, pun intended—chest, then backed inside her room.

  He kicked the door shut with his heel.

  Gulp.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Holly stared into eyes the color of rolling thunder clouds, lightning sparking as Vince ran his sizzling gaze over her face, locking onto her lips.

  Holy talking snowman, Frosty. The guy had smoldering down to a T.

  With only a look, he managed to make her feel kissed breathless. Lord help her when he finally put his lips on her again. The first two times he had, she barely managed to keep her clothes on, and she knew what they said about the third time.

  “Howdy, neighbor.” He was pure swagger, the left side of his mouth hitching up enough for his dimple to make an appearance. That little skin imperfection was dangerous. It was a good thing he didn’t have a matching set like Jake because they would be straight-up lethal. Her panties wouldn’t stand a chance.

  “Ne-neighbor?” she stuttered out, unable to articulate anything
else thanks to the lust coursing through her body.

  His only response was to pull the other side of his mouth up into a predatory smile. That was exactly what she was—prey.

  She was so damn screwed.

  Potentially in the literal sense, if his expression was anything to go by.

  Wordlessly, he bent toward her, his nose dragging along the bump of collarbone exposed by the loose collar of her shirt, skimming up the pounding pulse point of her throat, his tongue peeking out to lick the sensitive spot behind her ear before sucking her lobe into his hot mouth.

  A startled gasp escaped her, and when he bit into the flesh, her knees buckled. Like, they literally gave way and her chest smashed against his as she collapsed in his hold. She didn’t think that was actually a thing that happened to people outside of reading it in one of her books.

  With a manly chuckle, he adjusted his hold around her body, moving them until he had her braced against her dresser.

  “Fuck.” His words vibrated through her as he spoke against her skin. “I’m addicted to your scent.”

  The feeling is mutual, buddy. She caught a hint of pine lingering from whatever soap he used.

  “I’m going to need to check into rehab after I get a whiff between your legs.”

  “Oh, god.” Her head tipped down, and she buried her face in the soft cotton of his shirt as her cheeks flamed from his dirty words.

  He stepped farther into her personal space, her knees spreading to allow him to do so. He was so much larger than she was, but not once did he use his size to intimidate her. Instead it was like he made it his mission to show her how capable he was of keeping her safe.

  If only he knew how much she needed that to be true.

  “Feel what you do to me, Cupcake?” Thanks to her position on the edge of the dresser, their lower bodies were in perfect alignment for his erection to bump against her throbbing clit.

  “Muf—” The words faded into a moan as the head of his cock dragged along where her clit was trying to come out to play, the thin layer of her leggings and his sweatpants barely forming a barrier between them.

  “Don’t go calling me, Muffin, Cupcake. Because right now, all I want to do is find out how your muffin tastes.”

  She wanted that too.

  She couldn’t.

  She shouldn’t.

  But she did.

  She really, really did.

  “Yes.”

  HE WAS MOVING too fast.

  He should woo her.

  He should take her on a proper date first.

  But whenever Vince got within five feet of Holly, there was a driving need to claim her. To show her how great they would be together.

  With the softness of her breasts pillowed against his chest, the scent of baked goods invading his senses, her knees intermittently squeezing his sides, he was a goner.

  He.

  Needed.

  Her.

  He wrapped his hands around the back of her neck, his thumbs dragging along her jaw line, over her plump bottom lip then pulling it down.

  She sighed, and he was done.

  He crashed his mouth to hers, swallowing down her squeak of surprise. The sweetness of the wine she’d drunk lingered on her tongue.

  He slid one hand down the line of her spine to her ass, giving it a squeeze before continuing to her thighs, digging his fingers into the muscled flesh.

  She hummed in the back of her throat when his thumbs stroked the juncture where her thighs and hips met.

  As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t fuck her now. But he needed a taste. An appetizer to tide him over until they could get to the main course.

  He abandoned her mouth, trailing biting kisses down the column of her pale throat, across her shoulder, skirting the line of pressure of leaving a mark, only to back off on the suction before he left any evidence.

  He could have her leggings stripped away before he could blink, but if he did that, he wouldn’t stop until he was buried balls deep inside her. They needed to stay on.

  However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t get her off.

  He curled an arm around her hip, palming her ass to anchor her to him. With his free hand, he cupped her pussy, the heat of her center radiating through her leggings. He found the line of her slit through the cotton, pushing his finger until he felt her lips part beneath it.

  “Oh, god.” She clutched his shirt in her hands, her nails digging into his flesh.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, it registered that there was a room full of his friends and family who would notice their absence if he took too long. Quick and dirty it would have to be.

  He found the hard pearl of her clit, setting a punishing pace while she writhed against him.

  “Vince.”

  Nothing had ever sounded as good as his name falling from her lips in a broken plea.

  Her hips rocked on the edge of the dresser.

  Sealing his mouth over hers, he swallowed her moans as she exploded from his touch. Gradually he slowed the pace of his finger until she came down from her high.

  Unable to resist sampling what was sure to be the sweetest dessert, he snaked his hand beneath the elastic band of her leggings, dragging a finger through the wetness between her legs, before bringing it to his mouth to suck clean.

  She tasted like pure honey.

  There was the barest hint of whiskey visible in her eyes as she tracked the path of his hand. Her breath hitched again at his mmm of approval while he savored the taste of her on his tongue.

  He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Tomorrow, Cupcake.” Another kiss, and he pulled back. “You let me take you out.”

  Then he turned on his heel and left the room.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The next morning Holly slept in, needing the extra hours to help sleep off the orgasm hangover. Every time she said she would keep her distance from Vince, he managed to find a way to sneak past her defenses like smoke.

  She had a hard enough time avoiding him while working across the street from him, now that they were neighbors she was screwed, and not in the way she almost was against her dresser.

  God, all he did was touch her over her clothes and she came harder than she ever had. Angels sang and sugar plums danced as she exploded beneath his skilled fingers.

  And now he thought they would be going on a date.

  Again.

  Time to hide out at Espresso Patronum while coming up with a game plan to get out of it. Vincent Steele was not a complication she expected or needed in her life at the moment. What she needed was to shut it down—now.

  Good thing she had a few hundred cookies to bake and decorate. That was one way to keep her mind occupied for most of the day.

  As promised, a set of car keys waited for her on the kitchen island. Already her new roommates were proving to be better friends than the majority of people she grew up with. Lyle had mentioned that she didn’t have a car, so Becky told her to feel free to use hers since she carpooled with any number of their friends who lived in the building.

  After seeing them in action, she immediately understood The Coven reference and had to agree, they were some of the coolest chicks she had ever met. There was absolutely no pretense, and they loved fiercely and unconditionally. She had learned more about them in one evening together than she had most of the people she'd spent thirteen years in school with.

  Stepping inside EP, she spotted Maddey in her usual corner, typing away on her laptop, Mickey Mouse Beats headphones holding back her blonde curls. As if knowing she was thinking of her, her favorite author lifted her head and waved.

  Lyle wouldn’t meet her eyes as she made her way around the counter toward the kitchen. She would deal with him and his scheming husband later—right now, she had cookies to bake.

  Shedding her coat and tying her bandana around her head, she pulled up Christina Aguilera’s “Merry Christmas, Baby,” on her playlist and set to work gathering the ingredients she needed for her cookies. />
  She set out the different KitchenAid mixers: one for dry ingredients, one for wet, and one to use for once everything was combined.

  Cups of flour.

  Vince backing her against the dresser.

  Baking powder.

  The way he growled her name before biting down on her neck.

  Salt.

  The feel of his tongue stroking against hers.

  Softened butter.

  How easily he maneuvered her into position so he could be between her legs.

  Almond extract.

  The way he owned her body’s response with the drag of his thumb.

  Sugar.

  The way he stuck a hand down her pants and licked her from his fingers.

  A piece of eggshell cracked into her mixture when she was distracted by how utterly carnal that particular move was.

  “I know you like your modern version of Christmas music, but I didn’t think they had cursing in them,” Lyle said, entering the kitchen.

  “You,” she hissed, leveling him with a narrowed-eyed stare so fierce he held his hands up in surrender.

  “What did my darling husband do now?” Kyle asked, draping an arm around Lyle’s shoulders.

  “Oh, don’t think you’re innocent in all this. You both knew who lived across the hall from my new place and neglected to tell me.”

  The whirl of the mixers was the only sound in the room as one song ended and another began, both men looking properly chastised as she stared them down.

  “What? We didn’t think you’d have a problem with it since we caught the two of you fucking each other’s mouths back here.”

  Shit. She couldn’t deny that. It was exactly what had gone down. Thank god, they didn’t know what went down in her bedroom.

  “Still.” She ran a frustrated hand through her hair. “It would have been good information to have.”

  “You say that like you wouldn’t have moved in with the girls. And we all know that isn’t true,” Kyle stated.