Caged (Gold Hockey Book 11)

by Elise Faber

  “And what about your dreams?” she whispered, lifting up, her eyes meeting his. “Which ones have you lost?”

  A shadow of pain across his face, and guilt swarmed her.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean. I—”

  “It’s okay,” he said, just as quietly. “I lost a friend. First year in the league. He was struck and killed by a drunk driver.”

  “Oh, Ethan.” She covered his jaw with her palm. “I’m so sorry.”

  She half-expected him to say something along the lines of life happens or shit gets real or bad things sometimes happen to good people, or one of a myriad of other platitudes people pitch to each other when they don’t know what to say or how to react.

  Instead, he covered her hand with his own, his gaze on hers. “Thank you.”

  The moment stretched, growing taut, expectation coursing through the air, and then his lips brushed her forehead, her cheek, her jaw . . . her lips.

  It was sparks, not like she’d expected after the hall, after the door.

  Rather, it was sunshine on the tip of her nose on a summer’s day, heat caressing her collarbones, her shoulders, drifting down to her fingers.

  Gentle and so fucking sweet that it made her eyes prickle.

  Then his tongue touched the seam of her mouth. Her lips parted, and that warmth exploded into heat. His beard was roughened velvet against her skin, the most intoxicating abrasion of her life, and his tongue, when it stroked along hers, was a sleek, hot dart driving pleasure to follow in the wake of that heat. Her fingers wove into his hair, the soft locks like silk on her palms, needing him even nearer.

  Even as the thought entered her mind, Ethan’s hands were on her waist, pulling her closer, his cock hard against her center, sparking through her nerves, sending pleasure coursing through her, despite the layers between them.

  One hand slid up her side, and she groaned as those sparks spread, coalescing into a kind of need she’d never felt before.

  And just as it was getting really good, just as it was burning so fucking incredibly and she found herself almost completely undone, Ethan pulled back.

  “You are so fucking strong.”

  The rest of her heart shattered into a million pieces, those shards floating through the air and reforming . . . to encompass him.

  She stretched up and kissed him again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ethan

  He was hard and aching, furious and in agony that Dani had been hurt, and he couldn’t do a damned thing about it.

  But nothing eclipsed the feeling of the key turning in the lock, of the sudden pop of a door opening, of right.

  This was right.

  This was everything.

  She pushed at his chest, tearing her mouth from his. He almost expected her to draw back, to retreat, but instead she stayed close, her forehead resting on his, her palm on his shoulder.

  A tear dropped onto his shirt.

  Shit.

  “Did I—?”

  She pressed her finger to his mouth. “Why is it so easy with you?”

  “Because this is right.”

  Her lips parted, her breath hitching, and he shifted, leaning forward to kiss her again, needing to kiss her.

  It was a directive written into his DNA.

  She slid her tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his. Desire pooled in his stomach, pressing his cock even more firmly against the zipper of his slacks. He really fucking hated himself for not having taken her directly back to his house. If he had, they wouldn’t be having this conversation in a car, wouldn’t be crammed in between the seat and the steering wheel, when it really would have been much better if they’d been horizontal—

  “Why,” she asked, pulling back again, her hand resting on his chest, probably feeling the way it was pounding haphazard and totally out of control, “do you taste so fucking good?”

  He groaned, rested his palm on her nape. “Because this is right,” he said again.

  And as much as he wanted to kiss her again, to get lost in her taste and the feel of her body, he gently set her away from him, sliding her over into her own seat, sucking in a breath when she shakily pressed her fingers to her lips.

  He wanted to kiss her again, to have her back in his arms.

  But they were in an empty parking lot in the city, and it was after midnight, and he needed to keep her safe.

  “Can I drive you home?”

  Glazed eyes met his.

  “I’ll pick you up in the morning, and we can have breakfast.”

  “Or,” she whispered, “maybe you could stay?”

  His cock somehow grew harder, and he nearly reached over the console and grabbed her again. Instead, however, he cupped her cheek, told her the truth. “I want that,” he whispered. “I’ve fantasized about that in six thousand different ways, but . . .” He trailed off at the disappointment on her face, and for a moment he wondered why he was being a Cub Scout, but then the answer was easy. She was important. She meant something. So, that’s why he’d drive her home, kiss her goodnight on the porch, and continue winning her trust.

  Her face evened out, the warmth tucked back into cool. “You have the game tomorrow. You’ll need your rest.”

  “No.” He turned on the car, navigated out of the lot. “I don’t give a shit about rest. I give a shit about you, and I don’t want you to do something that you might—” He couldn’t force out the word regret. “I don’t want to move too fast. I like you, Dani, more than I probably should, considering I’ve been fantasizing about you longer than I’ve actually spoken to you.”

  He heard her inhale.

  “So, I’m going to drive you home where I’m going to make out with you on your front porch, and then I’m going to see your sweet ass in the morning, so I can buy you a breakfast I can drool over but can’t actually eat myself.” He glanced over, saw her lips quirk then looked back at the road. “I’ll choke down my oatmeal and fruit, my single allotted cup of coffee, and then I’ll drive us to the rink where we’ll get on a plane, and know what?”

  “What?”

  He winked at her. “I promise to save the seat next to me.”

  She laughed.

  “Now,” he said, getting onto the freeway and heading south. “Tell me, how far have you gotten through that stack of books from the library?”

  Silence.

  Then she laughed. “How far do you think?”

  He met her eyes for a heartbeat before returning his focus in front of him. “Pretty damned far, I think.”

  “You’d be right.”

  Another glance. “Will you tell me about your favorite?”

  “Favorite book? Or favorite from that stack?”

  “What? Do I look stupid? Favorite from the stack,” he teased. “It’s impossible for a true bookworm to choose her favorite.”

  “Spoken by a true bookworm?”

  “My favorite that I’ve read recently was a list-topping thriller. Even though it was a bit formulaic, it was a nice reprieve from scientific papers.” A beat, another brief look toward her. “Now, show me yours.”

  Laughter filled the car, and it was the best fucking thing he’d heard in a long time.

  They talked about books as he drove.

  Then he got his kiss. Well, kisses.

  And then he went back to his place, jerked off because he had the erection to end all erections, and even as he slept, his mind was only on one thing.

  Dani.

  The taste of her. The feel of her. The sound of her laughter filling the air.

  “And then Blue tried to steal Max’s figurines,” Dani said, “but Anna found out, and she thought it was stupid as hell and was really, really done with them pranking each other, so instead she stole Blue’s lucky socks.”

  He scooped up a bite of his oatmeal. “Okay, so this is the part I’ve heard. Or at least the part that had Blue tearing apart the locker room looking for those damned socks.”

  Dani laughed. “Poor g
uy.”

  A shrug, his lips twitching. “He was in full meltdown mode. You don’t get between hockey players and their good luck charms.”

  “Well, from what I heard, no harm was done, and Max and Blue figured it out.”

  “They certainly did.” A beat, his lips twitching. “Eventually.”

  Because with a little help from Angie, Anna had also stolen Max’s special lucky figurine he had to stroke before every game—which sounded grosser than it was in actuality—then had left a ransom note for both the socks and the figurine, forcing Max and Blue to work together to rescue those good luck charms.

  “So, the socks and figurine were found,” Dani said, scooping up a bite of what looked to be a truly delicious waffle. “And the prank war was over.”

  “And we all breathed a sigh of relief in the locker room.”

  A giggle as she ate more of her waffle. “How long did it take for the dubious duo to find them?”

  “Too close to game time, as far as Bernard was concerned.” Ethan chuckled. “Far too soon, as far as the guys in the room went.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “Eh.” He scraped the last bit of his oatmeal up. “It was a fantastic prank on Anna and Angie’s parts.”

  “Angie told me Max made her sleep on the couch.”

  Ethan choked.

  Dani giggled again. “But that she woke up in Max’s arms.”

  Ethan set his spoon down, smiled. That sounded much more like his friend and teammate. “Those women keep their men on their toes.”

  “Still want to date me?” Amber and russet eyes glimmered with mirth, but there was also a layer of insecurity beneath.

  “I’m looking forward to tiptoeing all over the place.”

  Her expression shifted, warmed. “Last chance.”

  He reached across the table, took her hand. “Scared?”

  “Fucking terrified.” Her shoulders rose and fell on an exhale. “But I’m also ready to finally live my life.”

  His fingers twitched. “What should we do first?”

  “First, we should pay the bill.” A smile. “Then we should get our butts to the rink so we don’t miss the bus.”

  He glanced at his watch then reached to pull out his wallet. “I’m loving this whole dating thing already.”

  “Then you’re going to love that I already paid the bill, so we can just go straight out to your car.”

  “What?” His brows drew together, his hand still half in his pocket, since he’d been in the process of pulling out his wallet. “What do you mean—” But his question was cut off when Dani sat down next to him, tugging his hand out of the opening, shoving his wallet back inside.

  “I said, I got it.” Her fingers lightly brushed his. “Which means you still owe me a date.”

  Joy swirled through him, a tiny tornado growing in intensity with each second he spent in the presence of this woman. “I’ll take that deal,” he said, sliding his hand up her arm, lightly gripping the side of her neck. “Because it means more time with you.”

  “I like you, Ethan Korhonen.”

  “Well, right back at you, Dani Eastbrooke.”

  He brushed his lips over hers.

  She turned the kiss into something that had his heart pounding, his cock going to granite.

  Then she stood, took his hand, and he knew he was in for a hell of a ride.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dani

  She was sitting up front by Fanny; the man who made every cell in her body sit up and pay attention was several rows back.

  She’d been intending to sit by him, but then Max had gotten ahold of Ethan, and Fanny had come to carry out her aforementioned interrogation, and . . . next thing she knew, she was in her normal row on the bus, her friend chatting her ear off as the vehicle got loaded.

  Brit walked by, winking when she caught Dani’s gaze as she made her way to the back of the bus.

  Seniority ruled when it came to seat position.

  Coaches up front, then support staff, then rookies on back to the senior citizens.

  Dani wondered what Brit might say if the goalie knew that Dani mentally referred to her, Blane, and Max as the senior citizens.

  They were the oldest players.

  But the lithe, strong Brit wouldn’t be happy.

  Still, Dani filed it away for use at a future date—maybe during one of those times where she was hanging with the women of the Gold and worked up the courage to actually say something.

  If she were living her life for real now, she’d need a few teasing statements stowed away and ready to roll.

  “What are you smiling about?”

  She blinked, glanced up to see that Fanny had vacated her seat, and it was suddenly occupied by a man who took up much more space than her tiny figure-skating friend. “I was categorizing Brit as a senior citizen.”

  He froze. His face an expression in shock.

  And then he burst out laughing, drawing the notice of pretty much everyone on the bus. They were probably wondering what the heck quiet, shy Dani could be saying to make a man like Ethan laugh so riotously.

  But for the first time ever in her life, Dani didn’t care what anyone else was thinking.

  She only cared what Ethan was thinking, and she supposed, what she was thinking. And the thoughts floating through her mind were light, happy ones, cautious optimism and a need to know everything about this man. His family, his parents, every sad and positive story of his life.

  She wanted to know his favorite color and food and—

  “Why’s there smoke coming out of your ears?”

  “What’s your favorite color?”

  He straightened, lips parting and then curving. “It’s like that, huh?”

  “It’s a perfectly acceptable first date question.”

  “We’re on a date?”

  Her sigh was disgruntled, and she swatted at his chest. “We’re going to be at some point. Well, if you stop being such a pain in my ass, that is.”

  He grinned, his gray eyes dancing, and she nudged him with her elbow. Which just had him snagging her arm, tucking it against him . . . tugging her against him. Her breath caught, desire swirling through her, and she was quite desperate to taste him again.

  His hand came to her cheek, his thumb brushing along her bottom lip. He groaned. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  She would give almost anything right then to be able to kiss him like she had on her porch the night before, like her body was an extension of his and if she just kept sipping at his mouth, the rest of the world could go on without them.

  “Not helping,” he murmured, that thumb still running back and forth.

  “You came up to sit by me.”

  “I like you,” he said. “I like to sit by people I like.”

  “That’s a lot of likes.”

  He tapped her nose. “Sass. I like that, too.”

  She laughed, shook her head, leaning back enough so she could focus. “Well then, just answer the question already. I want to know all the little things.”

  “All the little things?”

  “Leave the comedy to Max.”

  “Fuck.”

  She froze at the suddenly gruff tone. “What?”

  “I really fucking like you, Eastbrooke.”

  This whole conversation, paired with his body next to hers, was threatening to turn her into a pile of mush. Which meant that she needed to pull herself together. Otherwise there would just be a pile of Gold emblazoned clothing on the floor sitting in a Dani puddle. “All right. All right,” she said. “Enough of that.” She waved a hand. “I’m ordering you to answer my first date question.”

  He paused. “I think I like taking orders from you.”

  “I think I can’t give you the kind of orders I really want, so you need to behave yourself for the duration of the ride to the airport.”

  Warm fingers laced through hers, a rough palm engulfing her hand, tendrils of heat curling up her arm, sliding through her
middle, and his eyes were filled with liquid lightning when they came to hers and held, the air between them crackling. “Raincheck on the orders, love.”

  Her lips parted, her lungs shuddering. “Be good.”

  “As long as you promise to stroke me at some point in the future.”

  The heat was no longer a curl. It was an inferno, a forest fire, a volcano exploding within her. She swallowed hard. “Ethan,” she whispered.

  “Raincheck, sweetheart.”

  “Your fault,” she murmured.

  His smile was sexy and scorching and just the right kind of wicked. “Definitely my fault.” Then he straightened, pulling slightly away from her, the fog of his nearness dissipating, allowing her to at least put a few thoughts together.

  “Favorite color. STAT.”

  “Blue,” he stated without preamble. Then paused, said, “Actually, no. Not just blue. Turquoise.”

  And out of his pocket, he produced the stone she’d slipped him the night before.

  Her heart was a kitten in her chest, batting a ball of yarn around inside her torso, twisting this way and that.

  “Yours?” he murmured, sliding closer as Coop made his way down the aisle. Calle had slid into the row in front of them, and Dani didn’t miss the look she tossed their way.

  Gossip would be flying.

  Or was flying already.

  She could feel the gazes on them.

  A tug of her hair as the bus started moving forward. She blinked, reprocessed the conversation. “Yellow,” she whispered.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Why?” she repeated.

  “Yeah.” His thigh pressed to hers. “Why is yellow your favorite color?”

  “It’s bright.” A shrug. “Like sunshine and warm sand and pineapple juice.”

  He leaned close, his lips coming to her ear. “Did you just call warm sand yellow?”

  She was focused on Ethan, on his lips brushing the lobe of her ear, on the goose bumps his warm breath raised on her skin, on the heat from his body, so his words didn’t immediately process.

  Then they did.

  Straightening, she looked down her nose at him. “Really?”