Playing to Win

by Taryn Leigh Taylor

Luke shrugged. “Can’t haul a wheelchair in a two-seater.”

  Luke and Holly both froze at his slip. The blatant reference to Ethan hung there for a long moment. And after what they’d just shared, Holly felt she couldn’t ignore it. “I read about what happened to your brother. I’m incredibly sorry for what your family has been through. What you’ve been through.”

  A weird pressure filled the cab. It was like she could feel Luke withdrawing into himself, but also fighting not to. She wasn’t at all sure which part of him was going to win until he rolled his shoulders and tipped his head from side to side, like a boxer loosening up for a match.

  After a deep breath, he finally spoke. “Yeah, it’s been a tough couple of years. But Ethan’s a fighter. And you don’t want to hear the sob story. So how exactly does this work? You’re just going to ask me some questions?”

  Oh right. The interview.

  “Yeah, if you can turn on your interior light, I’ll just ask you about the truck, your first car, your favorite song to cruise to, that kind of stuff.” She gave him the rundown while she pulled her phone out. Once she switched it to video mode, they were ready to roll. He was a good sport, and they sped through the questions.

  Holly was just leaning toward him to show him the playback when the “Charge” anthem struck again.

  “Sorry.” Luke pulled out his phone. She couldn’t quite read the expression on his face when he read the screen. “I have to take this.”

  She nodded, surprised to find he didn’t leave the truck to answer the call. “Hey, Dad. How are you? Oh. Yeah, I heard. I was going to call and fill you in, but...uh...” He snuck a glance in her direction and flushed. “Practice ran late.”

  The G-rated reference to her amazing orgasm made her flush a little herself.

  “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry about the money. It’s covered. No problem. How’s Ethan doing? Really? Well that’s good, right?” He listened for a bit longer and then said his goodbyes.

  He sighed and turned to her. “Sorry. That was my dad.”

  “Yeah, I got that.” She smiled.

  “Are you parked around here?” he asked, searching the near deserted parking lot.

  “No, I caught a ride with Jay because my car’s in the shop. It’s okay, though. I’ll just grab a cab.”

  “I’ll drive you.”

  He looked as surprised as she was by the offer. “Oh. Well, if you’re sure it’s no trouble.”

  Holly told him her address and the big engine rumbled to life as he turned the key. She fastened her seat belt as the black behemoth rolled out of the parking stall under Luke’s guidance.

  “Sounds like you and your dad are close.”

  He shot her a look of surprise as he pulled out of the lot and onto the road. Night had fallen, and the roads around the arena had cleared.

  Luke nodded. “Yeah, he’s great.” There was a smile in his voice that let her know he meant what he said.

  The distance ticked by in ribbons of light and dark as they sped past streetlight after streetlight. There was something soothing about the calm quiet of the evening. It seemed to invite conversation, and Holly found herself saying more than she meant to, as though the residual physical intimacy they’d shared earlier was still lurking, searching for another outlet. “I’m jealous. My pop and I don’t really get along that well.”

  “Nothing in common?” he asked.

  Not for lack of trying, she thought, not proud of the bitterness that seeped in as she remembered the hours of her childhood she’d spent camped out on the couch, watching sports with her father, learning player names and stats, anything that might engage him in a more meaningful dialogue than, “What should we order for supper tonight, kids?”

  “Well, he really loves his hockey.”

  “Is that why you took this job?” he asked, and she wondered at that.

  Indirectly, she supposed, it was the reason behind every job she’d ever held. It was definitely the reason she strove to succeed in sports reporting. She craved her father’s acceptance so blatantly that she was sure any psychologist worth her salt could pick her out of a lineup. Add that to her mother’s long shadow, and it was pretty clear what drove Holly.

  “Yes. Mostly. I stop by his place once a week to make him dinner. I’d hoped maybe it would give us something to talk about.”

  It didn’t work any better now than it had then, though, which was why she always timed dinner duty to coincide with a game she was covering for one of her freelance writing gigs—hockey, basketball, baseball—didn’t really matter.

  Keeping track of the game and taking notes for her articles always made the uncomfortable silence pass more quickly.

  “I thought this job would impress him,” she confessed. “But it hasn’t. I’m not sure what the problem is. Maybe he hates the questions as much as you do. Before my mom died, I remember doing a lot of stuff with him. I miss that.”

  Holly often found herself wondering if her earliest memories were actually memories, or just dreams she made up of what a great family they’d been before cancer had stolen so much from her. “I want to ask him why we don’t hang out or talk the way we used to, but I always chicken out.”

  Luke nodded as they took the exit that led to her neighborhood. “That’s not just you. For the most part, my dad and I get along great, but family emotions can be tough to navigate. There’s stuff I can’t bring up with him, either.” He paused. “Sometimes I worry that my parents blame me for what happened to Ethan.”

  Oh, God. Holly hadn’t seen that coming, and it hit her like a kick to the gut. Did Luke really harbor that much guilt over an event that had been completely out of his control?

  “The whistle blew. The game stopped. There was no warning when the hit came,” he whispered.

  He did a double take when she put a comforting hand on his arm. The startled look on his face, like she’d pulled him out of a memory, made her wonder if he’d meant to say that aloud.

  He cleared his throat, motioning toward the upcoming turnoff. “This is the one?” he asked, effectively shifting the rest of their drive to a strictly navigator/navigatee dynamic.

  When they rolled up to the curb in front of her house, she did her best to remove any pity from her smile, despite her breaking heart. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “No problem.” To her surprise, he switched off the truck. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  They sauntered in silence up to the porch, side by side, in the chill of the night air. Their footsteps and the faint sound of distant cars were the only break in the quiet until they arrived at the front step. Her keys jangled as she pulled them from her purse and unlocked the door.

  “Thanks so much for the ride, Luke. I really appreciate it.”

  “Not a problem. I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

  “And here I am,” she said, motioning at her surroundings. “Safe.”

  “I guess I’ll see you when we get back from Colorado then.”

  She nodded, and there was a weird moment where she wasn’t sure if he was going for a hug or a handshake, and somehow it morphed into a bit of both, with a surprise cheek kiss thrown in for good measure.

  “Good night, Holly.”

  “Good night.”

  With a smile, Holly stepped inside and pushed the door closed behind her. She dropped her purse and keys on the small table in the entranceway. Tonight had been...incredible. From the sexy encounter in the players’ box, to laughing with Luke without a care in the world, to navigating some emotionally dense daddy issues while he drove her home.

  Even the awkward cheek kiss had been kind of perfect. In a way, it was representative of this crazy friend-or-foe relationship they had going on. And suddenly, and with complete clarity, she knew that if she didn’t do something, right then and there, to foste
r whatever fragile, new thing had bloomed between them tonight, then it would be lost forever.

  She yanked the door back open with two hands, ready to run down the street after his truck if she had to.

  Instead, she found him standing on the step, arm arrested in knocking-position.

  * * *

  HE’D BEEN ABOUT to rap on the door when she’d suddenly pulled it out of the way.

  Luke had meant to leave, he really had, but he’d barely made it down the steps before he’d turned around. The prospect of being alone tonight was too much. Not with all that family stuff bubbling up in his brain.

  He’d told her things he’d never said to anyone on the drive to her house. And the crazy part was, he was glad it’d been her.

  She was addictive. A life raft in the midst of the sea of hockey that had overtaken his world. And tonight he wanted to be selfish. He wanted to do what he wanted, not what he should—consequences be damned.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you.” He stepped toward her. And then his hand was buried in her hair, and his lips were devouring her lips, and she was pulling off his jacket as he pushed the door shut behind them. And for the first time since the Portland Storm had made the play-offs, Luke felt like he could breathe.

  He was vaguely aware of the slap of his leather jacket hitting the floor, but suddenly her arms were around his neck and she was kissing him. His mind went incredibly, deliriously blank. With a growl of need, he grabbed the backs of her thighs and hoisted her into his arms, reveling in the press of their bodies as she wrapped her gorgeous legs around his hips.

  “Which way’s the bedroom?” he managed to ask when they finally came up for air.

  “Over there,” she said with a vague motioning of her head. He interpreted the gesture to mean he should turn down the hallway to their left. “Then last door on the right.”

  Their mouths met deeply, frantically, as he did his best to navigate without bumping into anything. He was eager to arrive at their destination but not willing to miss any part of the journey. There was something so elemental about carrying a woman to bed, kissing and touching and driving each other crazy. Luke couldn’t get enough of it.

  But inevitably, even through the halcyon buzz and the rushing hormones, Luke’s responsible side made its presence known as they rounded the corner into her bedroom. “Please tell me you have condoms.”

  “Um...” She pushed her hair back from her face, brown eyes glazed with lust, lips swollen with his kisses and the rasp of his stubble.

  He’d never wanted anyone so badly in his life.

  “I don’t think so. But I’m on the pill. So if you’re...”

  She trailed off, and he nodded reassuringly. “I am. In my line of work, we get tested for everything—and I mean everything—regularly.”

  “I am, too,” she said. “Clean, I mean.”

  Luke stood there, with Holly wrapped around him, and there was a breath of anticipation in the air as they enjoyed that split second of awareness that what they both so desperately wanted was about to happen.

  And then that moment of restraint erupted into all-consuming flames. He crushed her mouth with his own, lowering her onto the mattress and following her down. They tugged off each others’ clothes, revealing the bend of an elbow, the curve of a hip, the camber of a thigh until finally they were both naked.

  She was as beautiful as he’d imagined, as he’d remembered, as he’d hoped. The kind of beauty that brought a man to his knees.

  He pushed inside her, one long, deep stroke, and then, because he couldn’t wait, he did it again. And again. Losing himself in the rhythm, taking everything he’d craved since they’d gotten down and dirty on the rink boards, loving that the reality of their bodies together was putting his fantasy to shame.

  He braced himself on his elbows, trying to tell if she was as turned on as he was, if she liked it, if she was pissed that he’d gone straight for the main event and cheated her out of foreplay. But when he slowed the pace of his hips, she opened her eyes and whispered, “Don’t stop. Just like that, Luke. Just like that.”

  His cock surged inside her and he increased his pace, loving the soft, startled gasps of her pleasure and the bite of her fingernails against his back.

  He buried his face in her neck and breathed, “You feel so good, baby. You make me feel so good.”

  * * *

  HOLLY WAS BEWITCHED. Luke Maguire at peak concentration was a powerful force. It was like every cell of his body was focused on her, a visceral awareness that crackled in the air. Missionary was not usually enough to build such a powerful arousal in her, but already she could feel the telltale heat growing, throbbing. She dug her heels into the bed and met him thrust for thrust, ensuring she was taking every inch of him inside her.

  She’d thought his fingers had been magical, but this, the heat of him between her thighs, the weight of him against her breasts, this was so much better.

  The orgasm at the arena had been sharp, tingly and shallow, racing along her skin like flash paper. In short, nothing compared to the savage need that was building inside her with every stroke of his cock, every brush of his hands. She wanted more, and when she couldn’t bear the scorching heat of it a second longer, she let go, reveling in the dark pleasure that erupted, thick and hot like lava, through her veins. All she could do was hold on, clutching Luke against her as their bodies shuddered with the aftershocks of the explosion.

  7

  “I THINK I HAVE a crush on my arch-nemesis,” Holly confessed to Paige a few days later.

  Holly did not add the fact that her arch-nemesis was a virtuoso in the sack and might be involved in illegal betting. Just because some of the Storm’s games had correlated with the list didn’t mean they all would. And this was not an accusation that could be made lightly.

  “First of all, thank God. It’s been a shockingly long time since you’ve had man problems.” Paige popped the last bit of her cupcake in her mouth and pushed the plate to the edge of their usual table at Piece of Cake, a cute little bakery just down the street from Paige’s salon. Holly had originally dragged Paige to the shop in a moment of pure fangirlism, because it was owned by none other than Eric Jacobs’s grandma, but the legendary vanilla bean cupcakes kept them coming back time and time again. “And second of all, who?”

  “Just this guy at work. He’s trying to catch me in the charade. Thinks I know more about hockey than I’m letting on and he wants to figure out my angle. It’s awful.”

  “Then why are you smiling?” Paige asked.

  “What? I’m not smiling.” But she was. Holly did her best to neutralize her expression.

  Sure, Luke was gorgeous, but she shouldn’t feel so infatuated. She knew it was a trick—the result of her parent issues. After she’d lost her mom, her father had never thought she was good enough, no matter how much sports trivia she memorized, no matter how insightful her comments. He’d never taken her seriously. And as for her mom...it was really hard to impress someone who wasn’t even on this corporeal plane.

  So to have this hockey god, a player she deeply admired and respected on the ice, with a body and a face that made her melt, to have him see through the facade that she was presenting, well...of course she was infatuated.

  Still, she couldn’t get too carried away. He’d been sweet the next morning, even made her breakfast. On his way out, he’d kissed her and said he’d see her after the team’s away games in Colorado. But he hadn’t exactly professed his undying love, or even promised to call.

  Besides, she was the one who’d insisted it was a mistake. And then there was that pesky contract thing...

  “Okay, now you’re seriously frowning. What’s up?”

  “I dunno, Paige. It was just really hot.”

  Paige gave her a skeptical look. “What kind of hot? Taming-the-reb
el hot? Corrupting-the-innocent hot? Wrestler hot?”

  “What? Ew. No. What is wrestler hot? That doesn’t even exist.”

  “Wrestler hot is when the guy is loud and confident and is kind of pulling off fringe. Besides, you know I love it when men glisten.”

  Holly took a sip of her macchiato. “It was black-and-white movie hot. Sexy banter, witty repartee...”

  “Everyone was wearing all their clothes...” Paige joked.

  Rarely had Holly hated her fair skin and propensity for blushing more than she did in that moment.

  “Oh my God! Someone watered your special flower? Holly, I’m so proud of you!”

  She winced. “Geez, Paige. Decorum much? Would you keep your voice down?”

  “Fine, but only if you tell me everything.”

  “He’s the only person who doesn’t treat me like a complete idiot. He basically accused me of stepping on the Storm to get ahead and that he’s sure I know more about hockey that I’m letting on.”

  “Ooh. I like a man who gets to the point. So what did you do?”

  Holly shoved a hand through her hair with a sigh. It felt so much better when it wasn’t teased and sprayed into submission. “Swore up and down that I definitely was an idiot and then doubled up on the act. I can’t let him win! Besides, why does he care so much whether I’m asking his team some joke questions? What’s he hiding?”

  Besides, of course, a potential windfall of ill-gotten cash for selling out his team.

  “Oh, my! Sex and intrigue? This is more serious than I thought! Give me every detail about the man who swept you into bed.”

  Holly tamped down the blush as best she could. She was not getting into the down and dirty in the middle of a crowded bakery. “He’s tall, and handsome and serious, but in this appealing, cares-about-something kind of way. And he’s built. Good God, the body on that man.” Holly took a long, restorative gulp of caffeine.

  “So what’s the problem? You deserve to blow off some steam. I know this job has been a little tough on you. So if he’s into it, have at him!”