Fire and Ice (Sticks & Hearts Book 2)

by Rhonda James

  When this place first opened, we were all sophomores and barely twenty. Thankfully, we possessed fake IDs that made us all twenty-one. We came here all the time during that first year. It became the standard Friday night greeting.

  “We’re heading to The Library, wanna go study?”

  Most people didn’t have a clue where we were really going. They probably took one look at us and thought we were studious, young college students. Sadly, not a whole lot of studying got accomplished that year. But we sure as hell had a lot of fun.

  We’re only seated a few minutes when Cage hops up and announces he’ll be right back. I shake my head at him. Dude’s been acting peculiar all evening, ever since Cassie caught me strokin’ the pipe. I figure it’s eating him alive. Knowing his girl has seen me naked as a porn star waiting for his close up. I must admit, if I had to be caught with my pants down (pun intended,) I’m glad Little D was ready for the camera.

  Cage comes back to the table and takes his seat just as the waitress comes over to take our order.

  “You boys know what you want?” she asks, tight-lipped and looking as if she’d rather be anyplace but here.

  Cage picks up on it immediately and pours on the charm as only he can do.

  “Smile, darlin’. It’s my buddy’s birthday and we’re going to need you to keep the alcohol flowing.” Her gaze travels over all of us, and her lips turn up into a smile before she brings her gaze back to Cage. “There it is! I knew you had one hidden in there. It’s a beautiful smile, too. Right, guys?”

  “Right.” “Yeah.” “Um hmm.” We all speak at the same time.

  “Bring us two pitchers of beer and a round of your best tequila.” He slips a C note between her clasped fingers and offers her a lazy wink. I swear to God I think I hear the waitress’ ovaries explode.

  “I take it we’re going to be here a while.” I look over at Rivers, and he flashes a telling grin.

  Ever since he and Ashley broke up, he’s been hanging out at the bars more often. Going to clubs. Coming home late. I haven’t heard of him hooking up, but I’m pretty sure it’s happened. Unlike me, Rivers isn’t one to brag about his sexual escapades.

  Funny thing, I haven’t shared anything else about Laney with these guys. Not since that morning in the kitchen. It’s not because I don’t want them giving me a hard time, because I know they would. Mostly, I want to keep it to myself, preserve it somehow just in case it all ends before it ever really began. I never allowed a girl to get to me the way Laney has. I know next to nothing about her, yet the thought of spending the entire weekend with her has me seriously considering changing my social media status from single to fucking owned.

  “Yo, Davis.” Cage pins me with his eyes. “Where’re you at, man? You look like you’re miles away.”

  “He’s probably just trying to pick which one of these lovely ladies he wants to take home.” Rivers laughs.

  “Nah, I don’t think that’s it. Looks as if you’ve got something on your mind.” I break eye contact, giving myself away. “Or better yet, someone.”

  “It’s nothing. Forget about it.” I pour myself a beer and down half of it.

  “What the fuck, dude? You still thinking about that Atlanta chick?” Rivers scowls and waves his arm, indicating the room. “Take a look around you, buddy, we’re surrounded by gorgeous women who are right here. Forget about that chick and focus on what’s right in front of you.”

  I didn’t tell them I’d planned on spending this weekend with her. I wasn’t about to tell them anything now, not after that statement. It wasn’t so much what he said as the way he looked at me when he said it.

  He looked at me like I was crazy for wasting my time on someone I couldn’t even touch when the need arose.

  Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am crazy, but none of that matters now that I know she lives here.

  No one says another word about it, but the look Cage gives me tells me he hears what I’m not saying. And for once, I’m grateful for his perceptiveness.

  Cage is right. I would rather be somewhere else. I love these guys, but there’s someone else vying for my attention tonight. And now that I know she’s within reach, it takes everything within me not to bolt out the door and scour the campus until I find her.

  I need to hold her. Inhale her sweet fragrance. Taste the inside of her mouth.

  Honestly, right now, I just need her.

  “Excuse me, Sir,” a female voice pulls me away from my thoughts. “Would you mind coming with me?”

  I look at the two scantily dressed women standing beside the table, then narrow my eyes at Cage.

  “What did you do?” I ask, fearing the answer. I know my friends very well.

  “Just a little birthday love, bro. Go have fun and we’ll see you after the show.” He flashes a cheesy grin, and they all raise their glasses in a toast. “To the birthday boy!”

  I stand and follow the women up on stage, silently cursing my well-meaning friends. Behind me, all I hear is the rhythmic chant they’ve started, and pretty soon, the entire room has joined in.

  Davis. Davis. Davis.

  The girls guide me to a chair positioned with its back to the entrance of the stage and tell me to take a seat. In this position, I won’t be able to see who’s approaching, which makes me apprehensive.

  Before leaving, one girl lowers her lips to my ear and seductively whispers. “No peeking.”

  At a time where most guys my age would be totally stoked by what’s about to take place, I know my friends. There’s no way this will be your typical lap dance. I’m sure my emotions must be written all over my face, and when I gaze back over to our table, I see them laughing it up as if they know something big is about to go down. I can’t help wondering, just what the hell have these assholes gotten me into?

  Laney’s face flashes through my mind, and I wonder how she’d feel if she knew another woman was about to give me a lap dance.

  And not just any woman. A woman who just happens to strip for a living. A stripper who’s probably rubbed her ass over countless men. Hell, for all I know, this woman could have slept with half of The Library’s clientele. Isn’t that how it usually goes in movies? Someone in the audience becomes infatuated with her, so he comes to watch her night after night. Even worse, she could be one of those pros who shake their ass on stage then go backstage to fuck her sleazy boss.

  Laney and I may not have placed a label on our relationship, but something tells me she wouldn’t be too happy to hear I’m getting a lap dance.

  I’m pretty sure if she ever found out, she’d be pissed as hell.

  And that’s exactly why I have every intention of not telling her.

  I pull the hood of my sweatshirt over my head and tell myself I’m not whipped.

  That’s a fucking lie.

  I so am.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  LANEY

  Davis. Davis. Davis.

  The crowd is chanting now. Rooting him on. Jeezus. Who is this guy anyhow? It sounds as if the entire team is out there. Okay, so what if they are? It’s like Anita said; if he doesn’t understand, then it wasn’t meant to be. No pressure. Right?

  You’ve got this, Laney, I remind myself.

  I take a deep breath and walk on stage. The birthday boy is sitting in a chair with his back to me and his legs parted wide. He’s wearing a black sweatshirt that bears the same number I’m sporting on my back, and the hood is pulled down over his head, like maybe he’s embarrassed and would prefer to be anyplace other than here. Poor guy. I can totally relate. If I didn’t need the money so badly, I would turn around and run as fast as my legs can carry me.

  The crowd is now chanting something different, but something I’m all too accustomed to hearing.

  Double-D. Double-D. Double-D.

  I make my way over to him, and his back goes rigid, as if sensing my presence. The music starts up, and Lady Gaga begins singing about feeling good. I reach up and pull back the hood of his sweatshirt, revealing an
eerily familiar mane of dirty blond hair. It feels as if my stomach is in my throat when I timidly step around the front of his chair and come face-to-face with DAVIS #14.

  Davis is Derek.

  My Derek.

  As in GLU’s hockey playing Derek Davis.

  My hockey player.

  How did I not figure this out before?

  Suddenly, everything starts spinning, and I know I’m going to pass out. He reaches for me, but I pull back, opening my mouth to say something, but no words come out.

  He jumps up, the chair beneath him falling back against the stage as he takes a step toward me.

  The last thing I see before blacking out is the look of betrayal on his face.

  DEREK

  WTF is going on?

  One minute, I’m about to get a lap dance, and the next I’m staring up at Laney’s face.

  Wait, Laney’s here?

  Wearing my jersey?

  Laney’s the one they picked to give me a lap dance?

  How the fuck did Cage pull this off?

  I look for him in the crowd, but the lights up here are so bright I can’t see anything beyond the end of the stage.

  Loud music thumps around us, and the crowd is still chanting, but Laney isn’t dancing. In fact, she isn’t moving at all. She’s standing before me, staring down at me with the same shocked expression I must be wearing.

  My jersey swallows her whole, and seeing her wearing it has got my cock springing to life. I love the way the hem of my shirt brushes against her bare legs. I want so badly to pull her into my lap and wrap those legs around me while I shove my tongue down her throat, claiming her right here in front of everyone.

  I reach out my hand to her, but she takes a step back, looking at me as if I’ve suddenly grown two heads. Her mouth gapes open, but no words come out. It’s only then I realize this isn’t some planned reunion orchestrated by my friends.

  This wasn’t planned at all.

  This is really happening, and everyone is probably looking at the two of us right now, wondering what the fuck is going on.

  Reality slams into me like a hard check to the body. My stomach twists and turns, and when our eyes meet, my chest physically hurts.

  Rage boils through me when I hear the words spoken clearly inside my head.

  Laney is a stripper.

  I need to get out of here. Now.

  But first, I need to know why.

  I leap up, sending the chair crashing to the stage as I stalk toward her. A look of panic flashes through her, and I watch as all the blood drains from her face and her body goes completely limp right before she starts to crumble. My reflexes take over, and I jump forward, circling my arms around her before she ever hits the floor.

  Any plan of escaping vanishes the moment I look down and see the dark mane of hair spilling over my arms and her chocolate-brown eyes as they flutter open and come to rest on mine.

  Yeah, I’m not going anywhere…

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  LANEY

  It all happened so fast.

  One minute, I was staring into blue eyes filled with hurt, then everything went black and I felt my legs give out and was certain I was going to fall flat on my face. But I never did. Instead, I opened my eyes and felt Derek’s arms wrapped around me while he was looking down at me. There was still pain and confusion in his eyes, but there was also something else present.

  Concern.

  Awareness washes over me, and I remember we are up on stage and everyone must be a witness to what’s taking place between us. I wriggle in his arms in an attempt to sit up, but he tightens his hold and watches me. It occurs to me it’s entirely too quiet. I risk a glance over my shoulder and realize we’re no longer on stage. We’re now in one of the private offices located in the back of the building.

  And we’re alone.

  I can only imagine what he must be thinking. I stare up at him, imploring him to say something, and when he doesn’t, I press my palms against his chest to put some distance between us. If he’s angry with me, I don’t want to be caught in this vulnerable position. I want to be standing. Ready to take the blow I feel he’s surely going to deliver.

  Honestly, I don’t blame him for being upset. I haven’t been upfront with him about everything. I never really worried about him finding out I was a stripper. Why would I? The idea we may actually live in the same town and attend the same school would have been too far fetched. Yet, here we are. I planned on telling him tomorrow at breakfast.

  You know the saying about best-laid plans…

  I’m standing inside an office in the back of The Library, but it feels like I’m stuck in the middle of a horrific nightmare.

  “You’re a stripper?” This comes out as a question, but one look at him, and it’s evident he already knows the answer. So I say nothing.

  Really, what is there to say? I’m not about to defend my choices. They’re mine and mine alone to make.

  “Night after night you’re in here wearing next to nothing. Hundreds of men have had their eyes on you. Seen your body. Hell, who knows how many other guys have had you.” His voice is tight, his words pinched, and he’s pacing around the small space like he’s about to pound something. I take a step back and give him a wide berth.

  “There hasn’t been anyone since you,” I answer quietly.

  He spins around on me, and I let out a startled gasp. “I’m sorry. What was that again?”

  I swallow hard and look him in the eye. “You heard me. I’m not a whore. I only dance for the money. I don’t care if you believe me or not. I’m sorry I haven’t been completely honest with you, but I’m not sorry I didn’t tell you what I do for a living. If I had told you back when we were in that hotel room, you never would have pursued me. You’d have cut your losses and walked away. I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t think it was any of your business.” His nostrils flare in anger, but I keep going. “I wanted you to like me for the person I am on the inside. That girl you were with that night. That’s me. The girl you see standing before you today is not who I truly am.”

  He stops pacing and begins slowly walking toward me, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “If it’s not you, then why are you still doing it? Do you like doing this?”

  I shake my head, unable to answer his question. I’m not ready to tell him. I wish I could. Oh, how I wish I could share my burdens with him, but knowing Derek, he would take my problems and make them his own.

  That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid.

  Tears pool behind my eyes, and I turn away, afraid they may break free if I look at him. I already cried enough today.

  So instead, I pull myself up to my full height and steel myself for the inevitable goodbye.

  But it never comes.

  “Do you still want me?” His voice is deep and needy as he stalks me, closing the distance between us until only a few feet remain.

  “You’re the only one I want,” I admit. “I think the bigger question is, can you forgive me?”

  “I’m still here, aren’t I?” His large hand wraps around mine. “Believe me, Laney, I thought about walking away, for maybe half a second. But I couldn’t make myself do it. Something inside of you calls out to me. I don’t know how to explain it, except whatever it is won’t let me leave you, because if I do, I know I’ll wake up tomorrow hating myself for what that would do to you. To us. And whatever it is that’s happening between us.”

  “There’s still so much we don’t know about each other, and I’m not sure when I’ll be ready to tell you everything.” My lips tremble with my admission.

  He palms the back of my neck to steer us closer together. “I don’t care about that right now. I may not know everything, but I know there’s no one I want more.” He drops a kiss on my forehead. “That’s all that matters now. We’ll figure out the rest of this shit later.”

  “Kiss me,” I command. I don’t have to ask twice.

  His mouth is on me in a flash, fus
ing with mine as he pins me against the wall. My lips part on a whimper as his tongue sweeps inside, teasing my tongue, tickling along the edge of my teeth. My fingers slip into his hair as his mouth works over mine in a kiss so slow and deep, desire pools between my legs.

  It’s a kiss that whispers he wants me too.

  It tells me I’m forgiven.

  I remove my fingers to reach for the hem of his jersey and slowly pull it off. His eyes go wide as he takes in the blue and silver pasties.

  “Damn, baby. Is this all for me?” he asks huskily.

  I tug my lip between my teeth and nod. He murmurs a string of curse words before reaching for the back of my thighs and lifting me off the ground.

  My legs wrap around him and lock at the ankles, preventing me from slipping down the wall, as he busies himself by cupping a breast in each hand. I inhale sharply when the tip of his thumb comes into contact with my skin. He circles the edge of one pastie, loosening the seal with his thumbnail. His mouth lowers to my breast, and the heat of his warm tongue quickly replaces his thumb. I arch into him, loving the way his damp mouth feels against my flesh. My hands go to my breasts, gripping the edge of each pastie to strip them off and reveal my new jewelry. His blue eyes look up, and he stares at me through thick lashes while his lips part in surprise.

  “Holy fuck,” he growls before sucking the small hockey sticks between his teeth. The heat created by the stroke of his fiery tongue on my pebbled flesh sends pulses of electricity to every nerve ending I possess.

  I rock myself against him, feeling exposed, covered only by a tiny triangle of fabric. The front of his jeans provides just the right amount of friction I’m seeking. I’m aware that I’m moaning loudly, but everything he’s doing feels too damn good to worry about how I may sound right now.

  He reaches a hand between us and finds my exposed clit. The tip of his index finger dips low to breach my opening and comes out covered in wetness that he spreads up through my slit and around the hardened bud. Two fingers plunge deep inside then curl at the tip in a come-hither motion. He adds a third and begins pumping faster while his thumb teases my swollen clit. My moans grow louder, and I brace my shoulders against the wall in order to rock faster against his hand. His lips tickle my ear as he quietly urges me along.