Playing Hard: A Chesapeake Blades Hockey Romance (The Chesapeake Blades Book 3)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  “I’ll join you.” Caleb leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before standing. “Beer or wine?”

  “Um—” She almost said beer. That’s what she normally drank. But she had a sudden nightmare of belching later, at the worst possible moment. She didn’t want that, and she certainly didn’t want beer breath, either. “Wine. White, please.”

  She watched as the men walked away—Caleb, Chuckie, and Maddison’s date. Then she turned back and saw three sets of eyes staring at her. Dani laughed and hit her in the arm.

  “Way to go, Wiley. You just announced you were going to jump your date to the whole world.”

  “I did not!”

  “Sure sounded like it to me.”

  Taylor leaned forward, frowning. “I thought you said you guys weren’t sleeping together.”

  “We’re not.”

  “But aren’t you staying here tonight?”

  “Yeah but—”

  “Is he staying with you?”

  “Yes. I mean, I guess, but—”

  Dani let out a loud whoop and pumped her fist in the air. “I knew it! Damn girl, you go for it. I knew there was a reason you were all dressed up.”

  “Hey, I’m not the only one dressed up. It’s a wedding. You’re supposed to dress up.”

  “Yeah, but you’re the only one wearing fuck-me heels.”

  Shannon opened her mouth to argue then caught Taylor’s eyes and snapped her mouth closed. Her friend didn’t look angry, not really, but there was no mistaking the concern in her eyes. “What?”

  Taylor shook her head and looked away. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “Taylor, would you lighten up? You’ve been giving Shannon shit about him for weeks now. Leave it alone already.”

  “Excuse me for not wanting to see her used and tossed to the side.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” The words fell from Shannon’s mouth, filled with a conviction she felt all the way down to her pinched toes.

  “How do you know that? I told you, he’s a player—”

  “Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t.” Or maybe he was but not anymore. A player wouldn’t have turned her down the other night. “But you know what? So what if he is? Maybe I just want to have some fun. Have you ever thought of that?”

  “No, but—”

  “Then drop it.”

  “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “And I appreciate it. I really do. But Taylor, your captaincy doesn’t carry over off the ice and into our personal lives. I’m a big girl. I know what I’m doing.” At least, she hoped she knew what she was doing. And if she didn’t…so what? She meant what she told Taylor: maybe she just wanted to have some fun.

  She locked eyes with her friend for a long minute, willing her to understand. Taylor finally nodded, a small smile teasing the corners of her mouth as she leaned forward. “As long as you give us a full, detailed report and let us know if he lives up to his reputation.”

  Laughter and cheers greeted Taylor’s words. Shannon shook her head, unable to stop her own smile. “Oh hell no! That is so not happening!”

  “What’s not happening?”

  Shannon jumped then spun around, surprised to see Caleb standing there. She shook her head, cursing as her face heated. How long had he been standing there with Chuckie and Maddison’s date? Had he heard them talking? No, he hadn’t. No way would Taylor have said that if they’d been within hearing distance. At least, Shannon didn’t think she would.

  No, she didn’t. Taylor’s own blush of embarrassment told her that much. And she was saved from answering when TR approached the table, dragging Mac with her.

  “Hey guys.” She sat down, looked over her shoulder and frowned at the big man behind her, then patted the empty seat next to her. “That was such a beautiful ceremony, wasn’t it? I think I almost cried. You don’t mind if we join you, do you? I’m trying to broaden Mac’s horizons. I figure making him sit with a bunch of strong women would do him good.”

  Shannon glanced over, watched as the big man reluctantly lowered himself into the chair next to TR. Like he was afraid the thing would topple under his weight—and like he’d rather be anywhere else but here.

  Shannon bit back a grin and turned to TR. “You’re, uh, you’re not actually working or anything right now, are you?”

  “No, you’re safe. Although you still owe me the rest of that interview.” Her gaze landed on Caleb, interest clear in her pale blue eyes. “Especially since I think I need some clarification on a few things you told me.”

  Shannon frowned, wondering what the other woman was talking about. Then she remembered their talk all those weeks ago, when TR had asked her about any men in her life and if they had any issues with her playing. TR just sat there and watched her, one brow raised in silent question, a smile teasing her mouth.

  Shannon shook her head and looked away, suddenly feigning interest in the centerpiece. Caleb shifted beside her, pushed the wineglass in her direction, then leaned forward.

  “Why do I feel like there’s a whole lot of something that I’m missing?”

  TR waved off his concern with a wide smile. “There’s not, don’t worry. Have you guys met Mac?”

  A few of them had, but only because they’d seen him at the rink with Jon and again at their team meeting the other night. TR placed her hand on Mac’s arm, the action both flirty and possessive somehow, and made quick introductions. The man offered everyone a curt nod then simply sat there like an immovable wall, looking like he’d rather be dodging bullets than sitting there making small talk.

  Music finally filled the room, drowning out the low hum of conversation and the clanking of glasses. Jon and Sammie made their way across the room, a perfect picture of a couple in love. Jon pulled Sammie into his arms and led her around the dance floor in their first dance as husband and wife. Well, their first one the second time around.

  Sammie motioned for everyone to join in, a bright smile on her face. Her daughter Clare ran across the floor and jumped toward them, giggling when Jon caught her in one arm and held her between them as a collective aww filled the room.

  A warm hand clasped hers and tugged. Caleb leaned closer, his mouth close to her ear when he spoke. “How about a dance?”

  His voice was low, filled with husky promise. Shannon met his gaze, her heartbeat tripling when she noticed the desire in those deep green eyes. She nodded, knowing speech was beyond her when he was looking at her that way.

  He led her to the dance floor with the other couples, his arm warm and solid against her back. He folded his free hand around hers and brought it to his chest, right above the steady beat of his heart. His gaze never left hers, holding her captive as surely as he held her in his arms.

  “I guess we get to share the bride and groom’s first dance, hm?”

  “Yeah. But don’t they always do that? I mean, invite other couples out on the floor to join them—”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  Shannon tilted her head to the side, ignoring the hammering of her heart as Caleb watched her. “Then what did you mean?”

  The dimple deepened in his cheek when he smiled. “I mean this is our first dance, too. As a couple. Now, whenever I hear this song, I’ll think about you.”

  “Oh. Wow. Um…” Shannon cleared her throat and looked away, wondered if her smile looked as silly as it felt. “That’s, um, that’s pretty sappy. And romantic.”

  Caleb laughed, the rich sound sending heat throughout her entire body. “Yeah, well, it’s a wedding. People get all crazy romantic and do stupid shit at weddings.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Caleb fumbled with the key card, damn near dropped it before he finally managed to insert it into the card reader. He had to do it twice before the green light blinked and he was able to open the door.

  Why the fuck was he nervous? There was nothing to be nervous about. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done this before—lots of times before. Meet a
woman, have a few drinks, take her back to his room for a few hours.

  Except this wasn’t going to be a few hours. And this wasn’t just any woman he’d met in a bar. This was Shannon. Gorgeous, funny, quirky Shannon.

  Who was just as fucking nervous as he was.

  She pushed past him with a quick smile, barely looking at him when he closed the door. Her gaze darted to the bed and he could have sworn her face paled just the smallest bit. Then she turned away, her back to him as she made her way over to the thermostat.

  “It’s chilly in here, don’t you think? I should have turned the heat on before we went downstairs.”

  She thought it was chilly? Christ, he was burning up, his entire body caught up in the fever that had been plaguing him since he’d picked her up before the wedding. How many hours ago was that? Six? Seven? Too many.

  He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d last if he didn’t have her in his arms. Here, now. Not downstairs, sitting next to her with his arm draped around her shoulders. Not on the dance floor, with that sweet body pressed against his even though he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Hold her hand. Press a soft kiss against her mouth or cheek or just below her ear as they danced.

  How many hours? He wasn’t sure, only knew that every single minute had been pure torture leading up to when he could finally have her.

  Here.

  Now.

  Except he was afraid to fucking move, afraid she’d suddenly bolt if he so much as looked at her, let alone touched her.

  But he couldn’t stop staring at her, at the creamy flesh of her back, bared by the emerald green dress she was wearing. The dress had a collar that wrapped around her neck, leaving her back and shoulders bare. The satiny material clung to the curves of her full breasts, nipped at her waist, then flared out past her hips before falling to just below her knees. And those shoes…holy fuck, those shoes. He’d been having fantasies about those shoes ever since he picked her up. Christ, she looked so damn sexy, it had taken all of his willpower not to keep her right here in this very room when they first checked-in. And he’d been thinking of nothing else except getting her back up here during the entire wedding and the reception that followed.

  Touching her but not touching, exchanging flirty looks and heated glances, claiming nothing but the briefest of kisses. The past six or seven hours had been nothing but tortuous foreplay, leading to this very minute.

  Here. Now.

  He was ready to fucking explode…and he couldn’t even move because he was worried about her bolting.

  He dragged his gaze away from that sexy back, pulled in a deep breath, then reached for his small duffel sitting on the edge of the bed—right next to hers. Maybe if he disappeared into the bathroom, gave her a few minutes to relax, she wouldn’t be quite so nervous. Wouldn’t be worried that all he wanted to do was jump her.

  He did, but that was beside the point.

  “I’m just going to go and—”

  Shannon whirled around, her eyes flared with surprise. “You’re leaving?”

  “What? No. Hell no. Why would you think that?”

  “You said you were going.”

  “Yeah. To, um, the bathroom. You know. In case you needed a few minutes…in case you needed some space or something.” The relief that flashed in her eyes eased some of the tension in his chest, removed any worry that he sounded like a total fucking ass stumbling over his words.

  She offered him a small smile, almost shy as she closed the distance between them. Then she turned around and lifted the fancy coil of thick blonde hair from her neck. “Could you unsnap me please?”

  And holy fucking shit.

  Caleb muttered under his breath, the words unintelligible, sounding more like a cross between a groan and a growl. He dropped his bag to the floor then reached for the collar of her dress, his fingers shaking as they scraped along her skin. It was just a snap. He could do this. He’d done this dozens of times before, no problem.

  Except he couldn’t find the fucking snap or button or hook or whatever the fuck was holding the pearl-studded material together. He stepped closer, frowning, his fingers thick and clumsy as they pawed at the material.

  “There are two small elastic loops that fit over the pearls. Do you see them?”

  Caleb leaned closer, searching for elastic loops while he inhaled the fresh scent of her perfume. God, she smelled so good, like sunshine and coconut. And fuck, he needed to stop sniffing her before she asked him what the fuck he was doing then hauled off and slapped him.

  And finally! He found the stupid elastic loops, struggled with them for a minute before freeing them. Shannon turned, watching him from beneath lowered lashes as she held the green satin in front of her. A small smile teased her mouth.

  “Thank you.”

  He opened his mouth, ready to tell her no problem, when she moved her hand and let the front of the dress fall away. Creamy flesh filled his gaze, from the delicate flare of her collarbone down to the firm mounds of her bare breasts to the flat planes of her stomach. His gaze moved back to her breasts, his mouth completely drying as the rosy nipples tightened into sharp points.

  He licked his lips, curled his fingers into his palm to keep from reaching for her. “Fuck. Shannon—”

  “Is something wrong?”

  He heard the doubt in her voice, saw her hand reach for the front of the dress. He shook his head and clamped his hand around her wrist, stopping her. Then he looked at her, not bothering to hide the need and desire in his eyes. “You’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful.”

  A delicate blush swept across her skin: her face, her neck, even her breasts. And fuck, he couldn’t stop himself, didn’t want to stop. He reached out, cupped her full breasts in his hands, filling each palm with their weight. Soft, firm, so fucking smooth. He scraped his thumbnail over one nipple, watched it tighten even more. Then he dipped his head and took the hard bud into his mouth. Sucking, pulling. Teasing. He heard Shannon’s breathy sigh, felt her hands dig into his shoulders for balance.

  And fuck yeah. This. Christ, he’d never imagined she would be so soft, so sweet, so responsive. Her hips rocked against his, her breathy moans driving him to the edge. More. He wanted more. Needed more.

  He reached between them and grabbed the satin material of the dress, pushed it past her hips until it fell into a puddle at her feet. Then he stepped back, drank her in with hungry eyes. Tall, lithe, a contradiction of toned muscle and soft curves in all the right places. She tossed her head to the side and the fancy coil of her hair came loose. A cascade of thick waves fell over her shoulder, the ends curling around the tightened peak of one rosy nipple.

  Caleb couldn’t stop looking at her, couldn’t stop watching. Hunger? No, this was more than hunger. This was something earthy. Primitive. Desperate. This need to see her, to touch her. To have her.

  He shrugged out of his jacket, let it fall to the floor as he fumbled with the tie and shirt. Shannon’s gaze never left him, those beautiful eyes watching every move of his fingers as he reached down to undo his belt and button and zipper. As he kicked off his shoes and pushed trousers and boxer briefs down and off.

  He was burning, her gaze licking flames over every inch of skin as she studied him. His neck, his shoulders. His chest and abdomen. Lower, following the thin line of dark hair down to the base of his thick erection, jutting proudly.

  Proudly hell. His cock was fucking begging.

  Just like him.

  And damn if she didn’t lick her lips as she stared at his straining cock. Like she couldn’t wait to touch him. Taste him. Suck him.

  Fuck. He’d fucking lose it if she did that right now.

  She took a step toward him, hesitated then lifted one foot and leaned down, ready to take off her shoes. He reached for her, steadying her with one hand on her elbow as she straightened. Then he shook his head, just once.

  “No.”

  Her eyes widened, filled with sharp desire. Then she was in his arms, bare flesh to bare flesh, br
eath mingling, tongues tangling. Caleb ran his hands along her shoulders, her back, down lower to cup the firm curve of her ass. He swallowed back a groan, dipped his hand inside the delicate waistband of the lacy scrap of underwear, and tugged them down her legs so she could step out of them. Soft skin, warm flesh, hard muscle. Christ, he couldn’t get enough of her, didn’t understand this burning hunger swallowing him whole.

  He dragged his hand up her leg, his fingertips brushing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Higher, until his hand skimmed the soft barely-there curls covering hot flesh. Hot. Wet. He slid a finger along her clit, felt her shudder beneath his touch.

  He dragged his mouth from hers, down along her neck, nipping and tasting. Then he lifted her, groaned when she wrapped those long fucking legs around his waist. It would be easy, so fucking easy, to drive his cock into her wet heat. Her pussy was right there, rubbing against him. All he had to do—

  Not yet. There were other things he wanted to do, needed to do.

  He turned around, gently lowered her to the bed and eased her legs from his waist. She sighed, her lids fluttering as she pushed up on one elbow and looked at him.

  The need in her eyes sucker-punched him, leaving him breathless. Had anyone ever looked at him like that before? Like they wanted him, needed him. Not who he was or what he could give them or what he could do for them…just him.

  He swallowed back another groan then dipped his head and caught one tight nipple in his mouth. Sucked, pulled. Teased the hard point with the tip of his tongue. Shannon reached for him, her fingers tangling in his hair as her back arched. He sucked even deeper, pulling the tight peak against the roof of his mouth before gently nipping it. The breath left her in a rush, the sound a sharp hiss of need. He released her nipple with a small groan, taking in the sight of her damp flesh reflected in the light from the single lamp on the nightstand. Then he dipped his head and kissed his way down her stomach, peppering her flesh with gentle kisses. Lower, his shoulder nudging her legs apart as he reached her pussy. He spread her damp flesh, slid a finger across her clit and watched as her hips rose toward him.