Once Upon a Power Play

by Jennifer Bonds

  “Condom.” He pulled away and dug a foil square out of his wallet, rolling it on quickly. “Ready?”

  She smirked. “Sweetie, I’m beyond ready. Don’t hold back.”

  Thrusting into her with one fluid stroke, he seated himself deep. And oh was it tight. Her sharp inhalation gave him pause. Holding her close, he remained still, giving her time to adjust to his size. She rolled her hips. Once. Twice. So slow. So incredibly slow. And hard. The friction of her body hugging his cock was going to make him come before she was ready. He needed to move. Needed to feel the slide of her body around him as their hips crashed together.

  The third time she let out a veritable purr, and he knew she was toying with him again, waiting to see what it would take to break him. Without warning, he pulled out. She gasped at the loss of contact, her lips settling into a disappointed pout. Angling his hips upward, he slammed back into her. There would be no stopping this time. They would go all the way, coming together. Digging her nails into his shoulders, she matched his pace, rocking her hips and panting with the effort.

  “That’s it, princess. Ride my cock like a good girl. I need to feel that sweet pussy of yours come again. Can you do that for me?”

  “Yes,” she moaned, wrapping her silky legs around him. “I’m almost there.”

  Thank God. He was about to blow and there was no way he was going to come without her. Two more quick strokes and she was screaming his name as he succumbed to his own orgasm, her tight walls milking every last drop he had to offer.

  Chapter Four

  Chloe watched with satisfaction as the kids from Garden of Dreams skated onto the ice at Madison Square Garden. Well, maybe skating was a bit too generous a word for it. Most of them had never even been on skates before and there was a lot of falling, but there was a lot of laughter, too. The kids were having a blast, which would be great for the photo shoot. If they were this excited about being on the ice, they’d be beside themselves when the Rangers arrived.

  Pacing the rug that had been placed on the ice for suits like herself, she began strategizing. Landing the Garden of Dreams charity as a client had been a big win for PBA and she was thrilled Cole had assigned her to the campaign. He expected her social media expertise to be an asset, translating to more publicity and ultimately, more funding. Bottom line, PBA needed to fill the coffers with donations by year-end. Although she was excited about the opportunity, there was no denying the crushing weight that had settled on her shoulders as a result. The foundation was counting on her, and the last thing she wanted to do was let the kids down. Whatever it took, she had to make the campaign a success. After all, wasn’t that what she’d promised herself? That she’d put her love life on the back burner and focus on something worthwhile for a change?

  Problem was, she was still trying to piece herself back together from those mind-blowing orgasms Ryan had given her Friday night. Thank God it was a one shot deal. No way could she handle more than one night of hot sex with that man. And didn’t it just figure that the most infuriating man she’d met in all her life was actually a sex god in disguise? She was pretty sure he’d ruined her for any other man with that pleasure-giving body of his. He’d marked her for life, leaving her with memories no other man could live up to. Hell, she was getting turned on just thinking about him. Which was exactly why she needed to forget about their night together and focus on her job. She scanned the arena, spotting Cole on the far side of the rink. Common sense told her he was there to meet the Rangers, not check up on her work, but seeing him onsite was all the motivation she needed to clear her head. The man might be her friend Olivia’s knight in shining armor, but from eight to five, he was also the boss.

  Squaring her shoulders, she went to work.

  The next fifteen minutes were spent sharing her vision for the shoot with the photographers. The real trick would be getting the kids, who currently looked as if they’d been mainlining Pixy Stix, settled enough to do their testimonials. That was why she’d convinced the photographers it was best to let them skate for a while and then meet the players. If she was lucky, they’d burn off some energy before transitioning into the serious stuff.

  Halfway through her review of the cue cards, the kids started going wild, screaming and howling. Unable to concentrate, she glanced up to see the Rangers filing out of the players tunnel and joining the kids on the ice. Their excitement was contagious, and she found herself smiling right along with them. An experience like this would leave a lasting impression on these kids, hopefully changing some of their lives for the better. The Rangers did a quick lap around the rink, moving at breakneck speed, which only made the kids scream louder, shouting the names of their favorite players, vying for their attention and cheering them to victory in the impromptu race. As the players came full circle and skated to center ice to meet their pintsized fans, one face stood out among the rest.

  Son. Of. A. Bitch!

  No way. No freaking way.

  This could not be happening. She blinked, hoping her eyes were playing a dirty trick on her. But no, there he was. Clean shaven. Hot. And wearing a Rangers jersey.

  Ryan.

  Ryan Douglas, apparently.

  There was a very real possibility she was going to die of embarrassment. Or melt into a puddle of goo right there on the damn rug. Much as she hated to admit it, he looked even better than she remembered, gliding across the ice in all his perfect male glory. Lust pooled in her belly. It didn’t help that she knew exactly how lickable his sinewy body was underneath that uniform. Strong arms, muscular chest, and her personal favorite, V-cut abs. What wasn’t to like? The man was ripped. His shaggy hair brushed the collar of his jersey, and his crooked nose suddenly seemed even sexier, if that was possible. How had he broken it? Stray puck? Elbow? Fight? No, wait. That was so not the point.

  What the hell? They weren’t supposed to see each other again. Ever. There was only one logical explanation. Clearly the universe hated her. She was being punished for breaking her no sex rule five seconds after swearing off men.

  Stop! Don’t freak out, she coached herself. Maybe if she kept her head down and her mouth shut, he wouldn’t see her. The players were totally focused on the kids, who were sure to keep them busy for the next hour. She’d just lay low and—

  “Hey, Chloe!”

  Damn! Her head shot up, searching for the source.

  “Chloe! We need some advice over here. Got a minute?”

  She waved to Becca, her Garden of Dreams liaison, hoping to shut her up before she attracted the attention of everyone in the tri-state area, namely Ryan. Sneaking a peek in his direction, she found his gaze locked on her like a heat-seeking missile.

  Double damn.

  Pretending not to see him, she joined Becca and the other PR guys, answering their questions and focusing on her job. Every menial little task. Every minute detail. Anything to avoid thinking about that night. About Ryan.

  Although she was doing her best to ignore him, she could feel his eyes on her as he worked with the kids. The slow burn that crept up the back of her neck was a dead giveaway. No matter how hard she tried, it was impossible to shut him out. Hell, hot under the collar didn’t even begin to describe her current situation. When she couldn’t take it for another second, and she thought her hair might actually go up in flames, she cracked.

  Abandoning all pretense, Chloe watched Ryan glide across the ice backward, the kids giggling and swiping at him with their sticks, doing their best to steal the puck. Much as she hated to admit it, he was good with them and the smile on his face suggested he was having as much fun as they were. She cut her eyes at the photographers. They were eating it up. At least they’d have plenty of material to use for the campaign. Returning her gaze to her iPad, she watched from under her lashes as Ryan and a couple of the other players attempted to teach the kids to pass a puck. She grinned. It was a complete disaster. They were too excited to take direction and the pucks were flying all over the place. But everyone was having fun and th
at was the only thing that mattered.

  Too bad the more she watched Ryan with the kids, the more pissed off she got, realizing she’d probably been a big freaking joke to him. She was the only one in the stupid store that hadn’t recognized him. It all made sense now. The free groceries. The cops falling all over themselves to take his statement. His hesitation to explain when she asked him about it. Not only was Ryan a hockey player, but judging by the big ol’ C on his chest, he was also the freaking team captain. God, she was such a fool. And probably the only person in the whole damn city who didn’t know his name or his face.

  Why would she? She didn’t give a crap about hockey, and really, things like this didn’t happen to girls like her. Why would someone as sinfully hot and famous as Ryan Douglas have sex with her anyway? Especially after she’d told him about her broken date. Humiliation burned her cheeks. Two words came to mind, and try as she might, she couldn’t chase them away.

  Pity fuck.

  Of all the gin joints… At the sound of Chloe’s name, Ryan found himself doing a double take, scanning the arena for her face. After the night they’d shared? Hell, his cock did a double take, too, hoping for an encore performance. And against all odds, there she was, prancing around in a tight little black skirt and a pair of sky-high red fuck me heels that should have been outlawed. She wore her hair down, her curls looking as wild as they had when she’d been coming for him Friday night. An image of her climaxing on the kitchen counter, hips rocking, lips parted, flashed through his mind, making his shorts uncomfortably tight. He shifted his weight and his train of thought. What was she doing at The Garden anyway? Not that he was complaining. The view from the ice was a hell of a lot better. It had occurred to him they might bump into one another at the corner store again, but he’d never imagined she might show up here. He leaned on his stick, watching as she buzzed around giving orders and doing her damndest to avoid his stare, focusing her attention everywhere but the ice. He’d rectify that situation soon enough, but first he had some fans to meet.

  “Hey, Jordy!” he yelled to one of his linemen, tapping his stick on the ice. “Why don’t we show these kids how to pass and see if we’ve got any future Rangers in the group?”

  The kids cheered and repeated his move, signaling they, too, were ready to receive the puck. Ryan grinned, feeding off their excitement. Being team captain was about more than just leading the guys on the ice and scoring goals. It was about being a good role model and giving back to the community, something he enjoyed immensely. Especially when he got to work with kids. After all, it wasn’t that long ago he was in their shoes, just hoping to make his dream a reality. Of course, he’d had far more advantages than these kids, growing up as he had with two parents who had the means and willingness to support his dream of playing pro hockey. He’d been damn lucky. Which was another reason he took his responsibility to the community, and these kids, seriously.

  Jordy flipped him the puck, which he received with ease, letting it crack hard against his stick as he cradled it. He spent the next hour teaching the fundamentals of the game, but he never lost sight of Chloe. Hell, his cock wouldn’t let him forget her presence, even if he wanted to. Fate had dropped her on the rink and he’d be damned before he let the opportunity pass, especially since she seemed hell-bent on ignoring him.

  When the time came for a water break, he broke away from the group, skating directly to the spot where she stood tapping away on her tablet like she was pissed at the world.

  “Hey, princess. Do I need to remind you that stalking is against the law?”

  Those angry little fingers froze on the screen. Her chest rose and fell, her full breasts taunting him. Finally she looked up, her dark eyes shining under the bright lights of the arena.

  “Am I being punk’d?” She frowned, her pinched lips leaving no doubt as to how she felt about the prospect. Her eyes skated over his face, taking in the sweat dripping down his brow. Her breath came fast and furious. From anger? The cold? Something else entirely? “You cannot be a pro hockey player!”

  “Why not?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips. Unable to decide if he should be offended by her assumption or flattered, he decided to just go with it. “Give me one good reason.”

  “Because you still have all your teeth and I can spell your last name!” She poked him in the chest for good measure, which was just ridiculous, considering he towered over her in his pads and skates. He threw his head back and laughed, drawing the attention of the photographers. “Look, you’ve had your fun, screwing the clueless girl in the furry boots, now leave me alone. I’m done being the butt of your joke or a pity fuck or whatever it was. I’m working,” she whisper-yelled through clenched teeth.

  Was she serious? She must think he was a first class asshole. He tried to see it from her perspective and realized nothing he said was going to change her mind right here, right now. It hadn’t been his intention to mislead her. He’d started to tell her, but something had held him back.

  Normalcy.

  It was nice being with someone who saw him as a regular guy, and not an NHL star, for a change. It had been a long time since he’d just been Ryan. He sighed. The woman was stubborn as hell, but two could play at that game. The difference was, he didn’t care who was watching.

  “I’m not leaving until you give me your number.”

  “Yeah, that’s not happening,” she said, placing a hand on her hip. “I told you, I’m swearing off men. Especially cocky, arrogant athletes.”

  “What?” he asked, arching his brow. “Now you have a problem with hockey players?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re a quick one, aren’t you?”

  “It hasn’t exactly been a problem in the past.” Hell, most of the women he met were falling all over themselves to bed an NHL player. Oh, they didn’t come right out and say it, but they didn’t have to. Sometimes actions spoke louder than words. Tamping down his irritation, Ryan leaned in close, ensuring that only she could hear his next words. They were so close he could smell her perfume, a sensual floral blend with a sweet edge that got his blood thrumming harder than any lap around the rink ever could. “That was before I ate that beautiful pussy of yours, which, if I remember correctly, you thor-o-ughly enjoyed.”

  Chloe’s jaw nearly hit the ice. Her cheeks were flaming, and if looks could kill, he’d have been a goner. Unfortunately for her, he’d never been one to give up easily. Not when he wanted something, and right now he wanted to get this woman on her back screaming his name.

  “Look, sweetie, the other night was fun, but it was a one-time thing. You know, because of the feels and whatnot from being in a high stress situation,” she finished, turning shuttered eyes on him. Which of them she was trying to convince with her little speech? Maybe she’d been more affected by their night together than she cared to admit. She ran a hand through her hair, as if maintaining that prim and polished look of hers could erase all the dirty things they’d done to one another in her kitchen. “Garden of Dreams is a really important account for me and I need to look good, so get your ass back over there and play captain of the Neanderthals for the kids.”

  “Not until you give me your number.” He leaned on his stick, letting her know he had no intention of moving. After six years in a relationship, he’d forgotten how exciting it could be to discover a new lover, especially one as responsive as Chloe. He needed another night with the sexy little vixen in front of him. One taste hadn’t been nearly enough.

  She huffed out a breath and crossed her arms. “You’ve clearly taken one too many shots to the head. Me and you? So not happening.”

  He swallowed his pride and flashed her the smile his sisters had notoriously dubbed The Panty-Melter. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I played hockey. It didn’t seem important at the time. Let me take you to dinner and make it up to you.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed,” she said with a flick of the wrist, “I have an actual job and I can buy my own damn dinner.” Her eyes travelled
the rink, settling on a guy in a dark suit who was watching them with interest. Lover? No. By her own admission she’d sworn off men. Boss? Judging by the nervous way she chewed her lower lip, it was a safe bet. Finally, something he could use. She’d said the account was important to her career. Ryan raised a gloved hand and waved. The suit waved back, looking pleasantly surprised. Chloe, on the other hand, looked panic stricken.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Just saying hi.” He grinned, enjoying the way she wore her passion on her sleeve. This was going to be a piece of cake. “That your boss? He looks pretty pleased.”

  The suit gave Chloe a thumbs up.

  She snorted. “Yeah, well, he’s a man. Of course he’d be impressed by the big famous jock with the C on his jersey. I’m pretty sure that’s standard with a Y chromosome.”

  “He’d probably be less impressed if he thought you chased me off the ice with that smart little mouth of yours. Not to mention the kids’ disappointment.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  He wouldn’t. But she didn’t know that. “Wanna find out?”

  She pursed her lips, no doubt mentally calling him every name in the book. “Fine.”

  “Fine?”

  “I will go to dinner with you if you get your ass back over there and smile pretty for the camera.”

  “Try not to sound so excited.” He smirked, knowing every snide comment she uttered was just another layer of foreplay that would heighten their pleasure when the time came. “Besides, you never know. Maybe I’ll take a puck to the face and you’ll be off the hook.”

  “I should be so lucky,” she grumbled as he skated away backward.

  “By the way,” he said, pointing to her stilettos, “I much prefer those to the boots.”

  “As if I care.” She rolled her eyes and turned her back on him. Then she brought her hand up behind her and gave him a one-fingered salute.