By the time he stepped back inside, Olivia had turned the lamp on next to the bed. She wore a cute vest top with thin straps that he wanted to slip off her shoulders. Instead, he climbed into bed, reached for her, and tugged her over him until she was lying on top of him, his dick perfectly situated between her legs. He ran his hands over her ass, happy to find a pair of booty shorts that likely made her ass look delicious.
He fisted his hand in her hair and pulled her to him so he could kiss her. Adrenaline from the game already had him buzzed. But feeling Olivia’s body against his, the warmth and softness of her skin had his dick straining for her. He lifted his hips and ground against her, soliciting a moan from her.
“You should sleep in this every night. I approve,” he said between kisses.
“They’re new,” she murmured. “Working out with you, hiking with you, eating with you. My old sleepwear no longer fit.”
He knew how much the progress meant to her. “I loved the feel of you before. I love the feel of you like this,” he said. To prove his point, he gripped her ass firmly, holding her in place while he moved against her, feeling the heat of her through her shorts.
“You’re easy to please,” Olivia murmured, her lips against his.
Gathering her in his arms, he rolled them over, flipping Olivia onto her back, allowing him to lie on top. “Not really, Liv.” He leaned on one elbow and slid the strap slowly down her arm.
“Congratulations on your win. You looked incredible on the ice today.”
Anders took his gaze away from the nipple he’d just revealed and looked into her eyes, seeing the easy lust growing between them. “You always say that. And thank you.”
He lowered his lips to her nipple, sucking it into his mouth, then releasing it so he could blow cool air over it. “I could get used to this . . . Coming home from a game, finding my pre-bed snack ready for me in the fridge, and you close to naked in between my sheets.”
Olivia’s fingers slipped into his hair, holding him close. “I could get used to being here.”
Her words warmed him, and he sat up onto his knees, bringing Olivia with him. He slipped the top over her head, and then grabbed his dick as she lay back down. Hunger filled her eyes, her mouth opening slightly as she gasped. It turned her on when she watched him stroke himself, but then, he felt the same way about watching her.
“As much as I love these shorts, they’re in my way.”
Olivia lifted her hips, allowing him to slide them over her ass. He climbed off her and pulled them down her legs.
Her hair was loose and spread across his pillow. Her eyes bright as she looked at him. Gone was the inhibited girl he’d met the night of the wedding. For a moment, he wondered if she realized just how much she’d come out of herself.
“You’re amazing, Liv,” he said, running his fingers from her throat to her belly button. “My little kämpe. To see you fight to become the woman you are right now, here in my bed. To listen to what you went through. To see how your resilience has bloomed. It’s an inspiration to me.”
Olivia lowered her eyes and then looked at him, an embarrassed smile on her lips. “I don’t know what to say.”
Anders leaned over and kissed her firmly. “Don’t say anything. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. You wouldn’t be anywhere near as tough on yourself if you saw what I see.”
He reached over to the drawer and grabbed a condom. Her eyes followed his hands as she watched him roll it on. Despite the adrenaline of the game, he wanted the deepest and most intense connection with her. Something more meaningful than a fuck. Something that would touch her soul as much as she touched his.
He added lubricant, because he was so far past the point of extended foreplay, and he definitely didn’t want to hurt Olivia.
Arms open, Olivia reached for him and he settled between her legs, every part of her pressed against every part of him. He’d read that people who suffered from anxiety benefitted from the pressure of light restraint, and the sigh Olivia emitted told him she felt better when he was pressed close.
A wave of gratitude swept through him when she reached between them, reached for his dick that ached, and guided it to her entrance. With a firm thrust, he seated himself deep inside.
“Fuck, Liv,” he gasped. He grabbed both of her hands, securing them above her head, and began to move. Slow, drawn out movements. He could feel her lips drag against his cock, could feel when her clit got the attention it needed.
His eyes remained locked on hers, even when he lowered his mouth to kiss her. It was messy, intense, and deeply arousing to be so deep inside her. There was barely a word spoken, and yet so much passed between them.
Anders didn’t think he’d ever been so connected to another human being.
“Let me hold you,” Olivia whispered, and he released her hands, sliding his own beneath her ass to hold her against him.
She raised her knee and Anders gripped the underside of it, pulling her closer, lifting it higher as she opened for him.
Fuck, he could feel the first glorious pains of orgasm. Olivia’s fingernails dug into his shoulders, her gasps becoming louder. They were riding the same fucking wave.
“Liv. You’re gonna need to come soon because there is no way I’m going to be able to stop.”
“I don’t want you to stop, Anders. I’m close, but I don’t care,” she half gasped, half whispered. “I want to see you come. I want to feel you come in me.”
And fuck if her words didn’t bring him closer. He tilted his hips so his dick ground up against Olivia with even more pressure on her clit. He could feel the sweat between their bodies, could feel her breasts pressed up against his chest, and was vaguely aware that he’d never been more fully in his own skin than he was right now.
While he’d encouraged her to let go of the anchors of her past, she was the anchor holding him in the present, and he didn’t want to let go for a fucking second.
“Anders,” Olivia cried out as he felt her tighten around him, as he felt her stomach muscles tighten, and her nails drag across his shoulder.
He kissed her, their mouths open as they gasped, making a final point of connection before the wave overwhelmed him and he came in deep, soul-wrenching shudders.
As words escaped him, he lay in Olivia’s arms, and let her anchor him in place.
Thirty-six hours later, loud hammering on the door reverberated through Anders’s Minnesota hotel room, causing him to wake with a start. He reached for Olivia, then wondered what the fuck had happened to his curtains before realizing he was on the road, and Olivia was tucked up in her apartment.
“What the fuck is that about?” Wyatt mumbled, turning over and pulling the pillow over his head.
Anders glanced at the clock. Eight in the morning. Motherfucker. He’d been looking forward to sleeping in after the flight. Eight was too early to be awake on game day.
Having drawn the short straw and the bed closest to the door, Anders shoved the covers out of his way and answered the door. Jean Paul Fleury, the head coach, stood outside, looking just as half-asleep and disheveled as Anders felt.
“We’ve got a call in a meeting room on the sixth floor, the Monroe suite. Let’s go.” Fleury’s Quebecois accent became more pronounced when he was mad.
“What’s it about, Coach? Is it the full team? Should I get Wyatt moving too?”
Fleury shook his head. “No idea. It’s just you, Berg. Get dressed and let’s go.”
Anders let the door click shut and pulled a fresh set of gym clothes out of his case.
“Everything cool?” Wyatt asked.
Anders didn’t know, but with Fleury’s ominous tone, it didn’t sound good. And if it only involved him, it could only mean one thing. A trade. Another move being made just before the end of the season. Perhaps the injured center had a miraculous recovery, and now Anders was surplus to requirements.
Fuck.
He’d only just gotten used to the idea of living in Denver with Olivia u
ntil next season. His belongings were on their way. They’d literally hit the road from Phoenix the day before, although he was certain they could be diverted to wherever he ended up.
Moving had been what he wanted all along . . . hadn’t it?
“No idea. I have a call with Coach and someone else. You know Fleury. Man of few words unless he’s pissed.”
Wyatt sat up and rubbed a hand across his face. “You need me to come with you? Or get ahold of Karl?”
Anders shook his head. Funnily enough, playing within Karl’s shadow had been something he worried about. Now, he liked the idea that when this was done, he could go find his brother. Man, it was too fucking early to be thinking through all this shit.
“Let’s go, Berg,” Fleury shouted from the hallway, hammering on the door again.
“Sorry for the disruption,” Anders said, grabbing his phone and wallet. He tossed a baseball cap over his messy hair.
“No worries. Hope everything’s okay.”
Anders and Fleury walked in silence. The elevator ride down eight floors was uncomfortable. Given his coach didn’t know the purpose of the call, either, he was likely running through his own set of scenarios. If he’d been traded, he wouldn’t be eligible to play that evening, leaving the team with a gaping hole on the first line.
One of the logistics and support team members Anders hadn’t met yet was in the room, testing the conference phone line. “If you’ve got the number, Coach, I can dial you in.”
Anders took a seat, wishing he had a cup of coffee, and waited as Coach handed his phone to the guy and they were dialed in.
“Fleury, Anders, it’s Lenny Sanders. Also on the call is Jackson Tate.”
Anders looked at Fleury. Jackson Tate was the owner of the Rush. An early investor back at the start of the dot com scene. He’d made a fortune with stocks in just about every big-ticket company that started in the late nineties. The man had probably earned a million bucks in the time it had taken Anders to pull on his clothes and get to the meeting.
It must be about a fucking trade. Anders’s heart sank. And he didn’t even have time to question why leaving Denver caused a huge hole in the center of his chest.
“We’re both here, Jackson,” Fleury said.
“Okay. We’re being sued. We got served this morning. Robert Harding is suing Anders Berg and the Denver Rush for assault, loss of income, personal injury, and a whole bunch of bullshit,” Lenny said.
Is that it?
It shouldn’t be such a relief that it wasn’t a trade, should it? A trade would be better. Less hassle for the organization, less personal risk to him. Olivia would be beside herself when she found out, but then, she wouldn’t like the idea of a trade, either. But he knew her. He knew she’d see this as her fault, while a trade had nothing to do with her.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.
“Anders,” Jackson said. “We’ve got you. Lenny assures me there’s no merit in this case. We’ll be following up with the police to understand what charges have been made against Harding, for the violation of his restraining order and the assault on Olivia. He got picked up by a law firm in Los Angeles, which is fucking ridiculous for a case that will be handled here in Denver. They’re a bunch of celebrity-chasing lawyers who take pleasure in dragging big names through court on a no-win-no-fee basis.”
“Thanks, Mr. Tate,” Anders said. “I’m really thankful that this is the way you want to handle it. Liv’s been through enough. She doesn’t need this on top off—”
“Olivia’s getting served, if she hasn’t already, as is the distillery,” Lenny said. “They intend to sue just about everybody they can to see what we can shake down.”
Anders put his head in his hands. “Shit.” Fleury gripped his shoulder in a show of support.
“For what it’s worth, Anders, I don’t think they have a case there, either. The fact he violated a restraining order and assaulted Olivia will more than offset anything that happened after. But I understand that the lawsuit against them includes damage to reputation, loss of earnings, etc. from the event last year. But once Olivia has engaged lawyers, we’ll work closely with them to make sure you both come through this unscathed. I think the fact he accepted payment from Olivia’s father is important here. An informal settlement had been agreed,” Lenny said.
Anders took a deep breath, partly because he feared he might lose control and get emotional if they all kept talking. “What happens next, Lenny?”
“We respond to the filing. I’ll send a strongly worded rebuttal to his lawyers . . . see if we can’t keep this out of court. We have no intention on settling this, given the lack of merit, but we’ll keep you posted. What you have to do is rest up and play your best tonight.”
“And Anders, I know there have been some issues with settling,” Jackson said. “I hope we’ve done everything we can to help you with that. If we could be doing more, I hope you’ll let us know. I’ve made no secret of our desire to keep you next season. Hell, we want to keep you for the next three. But this doesn’t affect our opinion of you at all. I hope you and Olivia will join me for dinner after the next home game.”
Had the owner of Phoenix ever invited him to dinner? He couldn’t remember.
“Thanks, Mr. Tate. We’d love to.”
“You should probably try to call Olivia to let her know what’s going on,” Lenny said. “We’ll be in touch.”
The phone went dead, and Fleury pressed the button to hang up.
“How are you doing, Berg?” Fleury asked.
“I’m not entirely sure, Coach.” And it was the truth. Thoughts bombarded him. Relief that he hadn’t been traded, which completely confused him. Fear for what this would do to Olivia, how it would affect all the amazing progress she’d made. Concern for how this would affect his trade value, and what would happen if he was traded before the case was settled. Although, from what he’d just heard, the Rush had no intention of leaving him and Olivia out in the wind alone. Which partly fed into his relief he hadn’t been traded.
And he had enough money to provide Olivia with great lawyers, even though she’d probably resist taking his money, at first. But sooner or later, she’d have to come to terms with it being their money. And, oh shit, did that mean he was committed to forever with Olivia?
He pressed his hands to the side of his head in an attempt to slow everything down.
“You want to know what I think?” Fleury asked.
“Sure.”
“First, I’m proud of you. Anybody touches my wife or one of my two girls, I’d break their face in a heartbeat and wouldn’t give it a second thought. I think it says a lot about the kind of guy you are. The second, I’m bloody relieved you aren’t being traded, and as soon as we’re done, I’m going outside to smoke a few fucking cigarettes to calm down. I know Denver wasn’t your first choice. I’ve seen it before. I saw it with Wyatt when he dragged his ass to Denver. Hell, I’m betting Denver wasn’t your third or fourth choice. You’re a great player, Anders, but you have the potential to be phenomenal if you start playing the game and stop letting it play you.”
Anders looked at Fleury. There was a lot to process. “What do you mean?”
“You’re letting the game play you. You worry too much about stats and outcomes. Our performance analysts have never had so many requests for footage from one player, ever. You should probably buy them a bottle of scotch at Christmas for the overtime they do for you. But that’s become your crutch. You need to shake it off, and I can help you with that.”
Anders sighed. His mom had always said that when the universe was trying to teach you a lesson, it kept trying until you learned it. It would tell you in every conceivable way until you heard it. And he was getting the message loud and clear.
“I hear you. I’ve been a dick, though. I haven’t made it easy to work with me.”
Fleury squeezed his shoulder. “You’re still learning. Still early in your career. Of course you’re going to screw up. Egos. Sal
aries. It breeds selfish fucking pricks. Until you realize that there is so much more to life than that. It’s hanging out with your team off the ice because you actually like each other. It’s finding one woman who loves you for who you are, not what you do or what you are worth. Realizing you fucked up is a big step, fixing it is better.”
Anders nodded thoughtfully. “You’ve given me a lot to think about, Coach.”
“Well, stick around for the next three seasons and I’ll be able to give you a lot more. You probably have more potential as a center than anyone I’ve worked with.” Fleury grinned, pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his hoodie, and left the room.
Anders sat for a moment, wondering what the hell had just happened. On the walk back to his room, he called Olivia, getting her voicemail, and left her a message to call him as soon as she could.
When he opened the door, the room smelled of coffee and bacon. Wyatt sat on his bed eating a plateful of food, Theo sat on the chair by the desk, tearing a croissant apart, and his brother sat on Anders’s bed.
“What’s going on?” he asked, putting his room key on the desk and pouring himself a cup of coffee.
Wyatt shrugged. “Didn’t sound good when Coach dragged you away, so figured you might need reinforcements when you got back.”
“Or friends,” Theo added.
“Or a brother,” Karl said.
Emotions swirled through him. Warmth. Happiness. Friendship.
This was what it felt like to be part of a family. And in spite of everything that had happened, it was the greatest feeling in the world.
15
“You sound . . . different. You’re taking this really calmly,” Anders said, as Olivia switched her phone to her other hand and placed the casserole she’d made into the oven.
Love In Moments: An opposites attract hockey romance (Love Distilled Book 2) Page 21
