Enticing Enforcers: A Slapshot Novella

by Myers, Heather C.

  Enticing Enforcers

  A Slapshot Novella

  Heather C. Myers

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  About the Author

  Did you like Enticing Enforcers?

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  Acknowledgments

  Also by Heather C. Myers

  Also by Heather C. Myers

  Also by Heather C. Myers

  Also by Heather C. Myers

  Also by Heather C. Myers

  Also by Heather C. Myers

  Also by Heather C. Myers

  Title © copyright 2018 Heather C. Myers

  * * *

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Created with Vellum

  Chapter 1

  The minute Xander Vane slid his cock into Isadora's slick, moist folds, he had to physically hold himself back from releasing himself into her. Her long legs wrapped tightly around his waist and her back arched up, urging him forward.

  This didn't help.

  All he wanted to do was to rock back and forth, quickly, pressing into her. He wanted her to scream his name. He wanted her to never forget the pleasure he had just given her, the pleasure he intended to continue to give her.

  Xander placed his hands on her breasts and squeezed. She moaned, her tawny eyes rolling into her head as she gazed up at him with a feral, possessive look. He held back a grunt, feeling his cock twitch in response to it. He had never seen a woman look at him that way before—desire and ecstasy, sure, but never had he seen someone who wanted him, who wanted to claim him and make him hers—and he found he liked it.

  Despite his reputation both on and off the ice, Xander Vane was more than just a hockey player whose job it was to police the ice and protect the skill. He was a tough guy, a fighter, a brute—and unlike the majority of the enforcers in the NHL, he actually did enjoy his role—but he was more than that. It certainly didn't help his bad boy reputation when he was arrested a couple of years ago for assault, but he only felt the need to put his hands on the asshole after said asshole tried to grope a college kid who definitely had not consented to being touched. He settled, people moved on.

  It also didn't help that he didn't have a serious girlfriend. Around that time, his girlfriend broke up with him because she was over him playing a sport where he would be forced to retire in his thirties and that required him to travel constantly. She didn't see the point in settling down so she ended it, abruptly and completely. As such, he went through his rebound phase—including hooking up with his team's CEO's sister, Katella Hanson—and found himself still stuck in that phase. Hooking up with beautiful girls in different cities didn't exactly scream commitment and ready to settle down.

  Xander slid his hands lower, over Isadora's soft stomach and wide hips. He was in love with her body, more than he cared to admit. Xander had loved women of all shapes and sizes, all colors and creeds, but there was something about a woman with a firm softness to her that his hands craved. His cock trembled, needing to move. He could not stay still.

  When his fingers found her clit, her mouth dropped open and her eyes lifted but only to half-mast. He met her brown gaze with his own. He could see the desire in those eyes. She didn't have to speak, and he already knew she wanted more. She urged him on with her gaze. She wanted him to fuck her, and this time, when the moan came he could not contain it.

  His hands found her hips and he slowly rocked his body. She let out a noise. He wasn't quite sure how to define it. It was like a whimper but with an urgency to it.

  He pushed himself deeper inside of her. He was surprised just how far he could go. Her ankles dug into his lower back but it was a pain he craved, a pain that reinforced what he was doing.

  Her blonde hair—in all its messy curls—spilled behind her like she was some kind of lion, like some kind of goddamn angel, and he could not help but stop moving just so he could stare at her. The sunlight spilled from his bedroom window, causing the blondes, the browns, and even the dusty reds to emerge from the locks of hair. He could count the freckles splashed across her cheeks and on the bridge of her nose if he wanted to.

  And he did.

  Strange. He rarely found himself distracted by hair color and freckles during sex. The act was simply a way for him to release tension, a way for him to forget he was alone. But Isadora managed to cast her spell over him, dazzling him with parts of her he should not be distracted by. Only fools in love wanted to count freckles or saw multiple colors in blonde hair. And if there was one thing he was not, it was a fool in love.

  Xander did not want to be a cliché, and yet, he found himself muttering nonsense whenever the word love—or anything relating to it, especially movies—was brought up in conversation. He did not like to admit it, but even after his ex had gutted him, he still had hope. He thought he had something, a spark even, with Katella, but she broke things off with him when he couldn't commit. Which was fair.

  But that didn't mean it didn't hurt any less.

  Love and feelings were a weakness that got one hurt. More than that, things were getting tense on the ice, especially considering the Newport Beach Seagulls did not know if they were going to make playoffs yet, even though there were only a handful of games left. Xander wanted to be focused. What was love, when it never lasted? Glory would last forever. His name would be etched into that Cup for eleven to thirteen years—the bottom portion of the Cup was made removable only because the Cup already has its share of names engraved in it and there was no room for any new Champions. That would be worth everything—to hoist that Cup over his head, to have it for one day, to be a Champion.

  He had to keep his focus.

  Isadora reached up and coiled her arms around his neck, pulling him down so she could capture his lips with her own. The kiss jolted him back into the present and he internally shook thoughts of Isadora and the Stanley Cup from his mind. If he wanted to work on his focus, he would have to employ that here as well. Isadora was not the sort of person one mentally checked out on when wrapped in the throes of passion.

  "You all right?" she whispered after they broke for air. Her breath tickled his ear, her lips vibrating against his cheek. "You seem far away."

  Fuck.

  "Just a lot on my mind," he admitted.

  That much was true.

  There was a lot of his mind. And, unfortunately for her, it wasn't Isa. Of course, he wasn't going to let her know that. He didn't have a death wish. However, he needed to pretend to be more involved in this. Because being friends with benefits had its perks, but the sex was sim
ply...

  What was the right word?

  The thing was, Isadora was perfect. She was beautiful and enthusiastic. Any guy would be lucky to have her, but his mind was focused elsewhere. On others.

  Juliette was probably with somebody else, not giving a shit that he was here.

  "Xan?"

  He felt himself go limp inside of here. Jesus Christ, this was the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened to him. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that when he reopened them, this would all be a dream, but he had a nagging feeling that this was not the case.

  Instead of critiquing him or judging him, Isadora coiled her arms underneath her shoulders and pulled him down so he could bury his face against her neck.

  "You still thinking about Juliette?" she asked.

  There was no judgment there, nothing that would indicate any resentment or bitterness. Isadora was well-versed in the relationship she and Xander had. They both used each other to minimize the loneliness they felt. Actually, Xander didn't quite know why she used him. She had her own money and it wasn't like she got credit for seeing him since their relationship was pretty much a secret. Not that he was hiding her, exactly, but he wasn't advertising it and he knew she wasn't either. She had her own reasons, he supposed, and if she felt compelled to tell him, she would. If not, that was fine too. They were friends.

  "I feel like a fucking idiot, but yes," he admitted. His left hand held her hipbone, his thumb rubbing up and down. "I know we broke up a few months ago but I honestly thought..." He let his voice trail off. "To be honest, I don't know what I thought. I thought she was the one I would eventually settle down with, you know? The one that, maybe, would be the mother of my children." Isadora's gentle fingers began to tease his hair, slowly running through the tangles. "And now when I think of her, all I can see is her bent over my couch, ass in the air, taking Stefan Renaldo's dick." He gripped her hip, all caresses ceasing. "I should move on. She fucking cheated on me with a goddamn soccer player in my own fucking house, but I can't stop."

  "It's okay," Isadora said. "I understand."

  That made Xander paused. One of the reasons why he loved Isadora so much was because she didn't talk much. Talking wasn't part of their relationship. She never asked why he wanted to see her or how he felt when they finished having sex. It was as though she had confidence in her ability to satisfy him and she didn't necessarily care about anything else.

  For her to offer something like this, a piece of herself, was intriguing.

  "Really?" Xander shouldn't push. Getting to know her might do things to their relationship that he didn't think he was ready for. And yet, he couldn't help but be curious. His grip lessened and he slowly began to caress her once more.

  She nodded her head—he could feel the tip of her chin graze his head—but she stopped playing with his hair.

  "When I was in high school, my older sister Daisy was dumped by her boyfriend at the beginning of senior year."

  "Wait," he said. "Your sister's name is Daisy?"

  "My mother had a fondness for all things floral." He could hear the smile in her voice—and he did pick up on her verb tense. Had. There was a good chance her mother wasn't with them any longer. "Anyway, my sister decided that she would rather get even than get upset, especially when he started dating her best friend, who also had a boyfriend at the time that she broke up with to go out with my sister's boyfriend. Are you following so far?"

  "I think so."

  "So Daisy went over to Jim, her ex-boyfriend's new girlfriend's ex-boyfriend and asked if he would be interested in getting their own form of revenge. He said yes and they pretended to date the next month."

  "Why would they do that?" Xander asked. He closed his eyes, enjoying the way her low voice sounded as she spoke. He felt...comforted when she spoke. Safe.

  "Because when people make emotional decisions, sometimes they don't understand the consequences to their actions until they're presented with them," Isadora replied. "In other words, neither person was happy when they found out about Daisy and Jim."

  "But weren't they the ones who broke up?" Xander asked.

  "Exactly," Isadora said. "You can't stop thinking about Juliette because you don't understand why she cheated on you. You were blindsided and it hurt you and your pride."

  Xander let her words sink in and nodded his head. "That sounds about right," he admitted. "I just don't know how I'm supposed to get over it—which, I know , sounds like an excuse but fuck, I hate this. And as great as having sex with you is, it's not letting me forget that Juliette cheated on me."

  "You should get that closure." Her voice hitched and Xander could tell he was probably too careless by admitting Isadora was great but not good enough to take his mind off of his cheating ex.

  Shit. He was an asshole.

  "And how should I do that?" Xander asked.

  "Well, Juliette is the correspondent who typically interviews you guys on the bench, right?" Isadora asked. "Or is that Harper Crawford? I can't seem to keep them straight."

  "Harper is the one who interviews us in the locker room and has her own blog," Xander explained. "She's dating Zachary Ryan. Juliette interviews us on the bench."

  "Even better," Isadora said. "I suggest you find someone who can pretend to be your girlfriend, so she realizes what a catch you are and completely regrets what she did."

  The wheels started turning in his head. It sounded like a great idea. Now, he would have to figure out who that lucky girl would be.

  Chapter 2

  Isadora was not offended when Xander rolled off of her to get dressed, silent as ever, deep in thought about what they had just discussed. She pulled the sheets higher on her body, closing her eyes. Because it was Friday night, she was able to sleep in tomorrow, and with Xander leaving, she wouldn't have any reason to stay up late tonight.

  "Hey."

  His rough, jagged voice caused her to open one eye, and a small smile slid across her face as she looked at him. Messy, auburn hair he was growing out. Midnight blue eyes that could penetrate the coldest of women's hearts. And that boyish smile that made him look substantially younger than his thirty-two years of age.

  "Yes?" she asked, closing her eyes once again but quirking her brow.

  "Thank you."

  She opened her eyes to see the typical playfulness that permeated those eyes was temporarily disbanded.

  "Any other girl would have taken what happened personally and made it about her," he continued. "Really, it's my fault. It's my issue. And I just appreciate the fact that you understand it."

  "It's not your fault, Xander," she told him. Isadora rolled her shoulders back, trying to get out any kinks. "Honestly, you thought she could be the one. That's a big deal. I understand that. I respect that. What she did to you..." Isadora knew she wouldn't be able to find the words to make everything better, but at the very least, she would be able to offer him her support. "No one should have to experience that. It's not fair that you did. And I hope you find a solution to your problem. I hope you don't have that happen to you ever again." She grinned, tilting her head to the side so her hair tumbled over her shoulder. "I do believe you owe me an orgasm though. So next time, add one on, okay?"

  Xander grinned and knelt down so he could capture her lips for a quick but lingering kiss.

  "Will do," he said.

  Isadora did not have to worry about walking him to the door. Xander had his own key at this point and always remembered that the lights were off in her place and that he locked up when he wanted to leave. She never expected a chance encounter at a bar a couple of months ago would have her giving out her key to a man she knew would never be her boyfriend, but there was something about Xander Isadora gravitated to. He made her laugh and he made sure she was well taken care of when it came to her own pleasure. He was a very selfless lover.

  There was more to it, however. She would never share this with him, only because she did not feel they had reached that stage in their relationship—she did n
ot think they ever would, even if Isadora did consider him a friend. Her past was her past, but it was nice to feel safe in the present. It was nice to know that Xander would be there for her and not ask any questions.

  Being friends with benefits with a professional hockey player definitely had its perks. She knew she would never fall in love with him, not after what happened to her. She was not a fan of serious relationships and athletes only because it was difficult for them to commit in the first place, let alone when there was tension slapping them in the face. Isadora hadn't been cheated on, but she did have a bad experience with a tennis player, and she vowed she would never let herself get involved with a professional athlete again.

  She twirled a strand of hair on her finger and looked out the window. The curtains were drawn around it but she could see peeks of darkness slipping inside.

  Isadora huffed a sigh. These were the moments when she hated how scared she was. Scared that he would come back. Every morning, she checked her phone to see where he was. Not because she cared, but to ensure he was nowhere near Orange County, nowhere near Corona Del Mar. The last thing she needed was to find him at her door. Even the thought of it had her heart clenching with apprehension.

  She took in a deep breath, just as she had been instructed by her therapist, before releasing it. It was shaky but it helped.

  Now, she wished Xander had stayed for a little bit longer. He was always good at freeing her mind from things she was afraid of.

  She laced her fingers together and bowed her head, sending a prayer up to God to watch over her and her loved ones, and to keep Benjamin Locke as far away from her as possible.