Once Upon a Power Play

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Once Upon a Power Play Page 6

by Jennifer Bonds


  “These are so fucking hot, but they have to go,” he said, moving from her mouth to her chin, scraping his teeth along her jawline.

  Dropping to his knees, he pulled the pantyhose down, taking her underwear too. She kicked off her shoes and stepped out of the restrictive undergarments, making a mental note to buy more thigh high stockings. There was something to be said for the easy access they provided, and Ryan seemed to like them. He pushed her dress up, eyes locked on her bare, well, everything. Only she didn’t feel self-conscious. Hell, the way he was looking at her she felt like the sexiest damn woman in the world. He could stare all day as far as she was concerned. Except that it meant they weren’t kissing. Or screwing. And what fun was that?

  Seizing the front of his shirt, she pulled him to his feet, capturing his mouth on the way up. She nipped at his lower lip, sucking hard. The responsive groan he gave sent a zing of pleasure right to her center. Slipping his arms around her back, he cupped her ass and lifted her in the air. Wrapping her legs around him, she used the leverage to boost herself higher and rubbed her body against his. It was a futile attempt to satisfy the tension coiled low in her belly.

  “Bedroom?”

  “Thought you’d never ask. Back of the hall,” she panted, running her fingers through his silky hair. He carried her to the bed, laying her down without breaking their connection. Lowering his massive body on top of her, he pinned her to the mattress with his hips. She went straight for the buttons on his shirt, desperate for skin-to-skin contact. Ryan worked her belt, releasing the clasp and dragging the little red dress up over her head, leaving her naked beneath him. He pulled back, studying her from above.

  “You wore this just to torture me with those perfect tits, didn’t you?” Shaking his head, he held up the dress. “No bra. I fucking knew it.”

  Busted.

  She smirked, dropping her eyes to the raging hard-on that strained against the front of his jeans. “Looks like it worked.”

  With his free hand, he caressed her breast, rolling the hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, princess.” He pinched her. The jolt of pleasure/pain sent her senses into overdrive. His mouth followed, sucking the tender flesh and massaging it with his tongue. She wiggled beneath him, needing more. “You should know I always play to win.”

  Unnerved by the dark look in his eyes, she returned her attention to his shirt. Peeling it back revealed the well-muscled shoulders she remembered from their first night together. The phoenix tattoo on his shoulder took on new meaning as she caressed it, wondering if Ryan himself would rise from the ashes and return to greatness. Not that it was any of her concern. She pushed the thought aside, running her hands over the corded muscles of his arms. They were working hard to ensure that thick body of his didn’t crush her. It gave her an idea. A very naughty idea.

  Ryan liked games? Maybe they weren’t done playing after all. Perhaps it was just time to change the rules. Only this time they’d be in her favor.

  “Switch.” She pushed him off and rolled him onto his back, climbing atop and straddling him. What would it be like to have all that male power restrained beneath her? She was about find out. “Close your eyes.”

  He started to argue, but she put a finger to his lips, following it with a light kiss.

  When she was sure his eyes were closed, she reached into the nightstand and pulled out the handcuffs she’d bought at Halloween to go with her sexy cop costume. She’d never expected to use them, but the opportunity seemed too good to pass up. This time she’d be in control, and the only person getting tortured would be Ryan. She rotated her hips and stroked his arms, stretching them above his head and putting them in range of the wrought iron headboard.

  Then she snapped on the cuffs.

  His eyes shot open. “What the fuck!” The cuffs scraped the headboard as he tried to bring his arms down.

  “We’re going to play a game,” she said, echoing his words from their first night together. “With handcuffs. There’s only one rule. I’m in control.”

  Leaning back, she settled over his hips, giving him full view of her breasts. He could look, but he couldn’t touch. Ryan appraised her as if seeing her for the first time. Shifting his hips, he relaxed, accepting his fate. “Okay, princess. Your game, your rules. But when I get out of these handcuffs—”

  “Baby, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t ever want to get out of those handcuffs.” And she meant it. She had every intention of riding him until they were both fully spent. After that? Who cared?

  She crawled to the end of the bed and stripped off his jeans. Only his thick erection remained between them. Glowing with the knowledge that she’d done that to him, gotten him to that undeniable state of arousal, she repositioned herself over his thighs. He watched intently as she leaned down and blew a hot breath on the head of his cock. The determined set of his jaw suggested he was doing everything in his power not to react. They’d just see about that, wouldn’t they? She licked her lips, moving her tongue over the top one first. No reaction. Then the lower one.

  His penis twitched.

  Point, Chloe.

  “Do you have any idea what I’m going to do to you?” She blew another breath onto his fevered skin, massaging his thighs, avoiding direct contact with his towering erection, just inches from her mouth.

  “You’re going to wrap those sweet lips around my dick and suck me off, aren’t you, princess?”

  She stroked his thigh. “Would you like that?”

  “I’ve never wanted it so bad in my life,” he growled, shifting his hips again. The urge to take him in her mouth was overwhelming. The idea of reciprocating the pleasure he’d given her was a strong lure. Add to it the rush of having such a big, powerful man handcuffed to her bed and she was practically a goner. “Take me in your mouth.”

  “Did you forget your manners?” Starting at the base, she stroked his cock with the palm of her hand. “You forgot to say please.”

  “Please.” It was a strangled cry. Taking pity on him, she lowered herself and licked the head. Just one quick little swipe of the tongue.

  He moaned, his tortured gaze never leaving her mouth. “Do it again.”

  This time she happily obliged, her own arousal demanding she quit screwing around and get down to business. Bracing herself on his thighs, she wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock and took him into her mouth, circling the shaft with the tip of her tongue.

  “Fuuuck,” he groaned, arching his hips and nearly toppling her. “That feels amazing. I need more, baby. Fuck me with your mouth. Make it fast.”

  Eager to please, she did as he commanded, taking him deep and withdrawing, her tongue desperately working him with each wild thrust of his hips.

  “I’m going to come if you keep that up.” He rattled the handcuffs. “Get up here and ride me, princess. I want to watch those tits bounce while you’re fucking me. I want you to look into my eyes and know who it is that makes you come so hard.”

  Abandoning her own rules, she delved into the nightstand for a condom. She ripped it open and rolled it on before straddling Ryan again. Hesitating only briefly, she lowered herself, spreading her thighs and taking him deep. Blistering heat tore through her. It wouldn’t take much to send her soaring. Her own climax was close at hand.

  “That’s right, princess. Take it all,” he urged, hips rolling beneath her. Despite the rhythmic thrusts, his eyes never left hers. The rest of the world fell away, leaving only Ryan and those striking blue eyes of his. God, if she wasn’t careful she could lose herself in them.

  Chloe threw her head back and lifted her hips, pulling back until only the tip of his cock remained inside her. Then she slammed her hips back down, clenching him tight. The guttural sound that erupted from Ryan was music to her ears as she rocked her body, feeding on his excitement. She cupped her breasts, squeezing them as he watched, knowing the action would heighten his pleasure.

  He rattled the cuffs again.
“Put those beautiful tits in my mouth. Let me suck them for you.”

  She shook her head and gave him a wicked grin. “I have a better idea.” With false bravado, she slid one of her hands down her belly, coming to a rest at the place where their bodies joined.

  “Fuck, yeah,” he rasped, eyes wild. “Touch yourself while you’re riding me.”

  With experienced fingers, she rubbed her swollen clit. Ryan’s thrusts become even more insistent, lifting them both from the mattress as he pushed them toward oblivion. It didn’t take long. Within seconds, shockwaves rocked Chloe, shattering her focus. Her body clenched tight around Ryan, drawing him over the precipice with her. And then they were falling together, entwined as one as they rode out the aftershocks, utterly spent.

  Get it the fuck together, man. Ryan laced up his skates, doing breathing exercises to calm his nerves. It wasn’t practice that had him sweating. It was the prospect of facing Bash. The tension in the locker room was so thick he was choking on it. They needed to squash the drama and focus on the game. Personal shit was a distraction, one the team couldn’t afford if they wanted to move into first place. Still, he could feel the eyes of his teammates on him, wondering how he’d react when Bash arrived. And as usual, Bash was late. Hell, if he didn’t show up soon, Ryan would be on the ice before he made an appearance. That was the last thing he wanted. The drama needed to stay in the locker room and off the ice.

  Head down, he knotted his laces, fully aware the sudden hush meant Bash had arrived. Doing his best to play it cool, he turned to his locker and grabbed his gloves, busying himself with them as Bash dropped his bag across the aisle. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Everyone was watching him, no doubt wondering if he’d be able to restrain himself from putting a fist to Bash’s nose. He grabbed his helmet, watching his teammate from the corner of his eye as he slipped into his compression shorts.

  “What the fuck!” Bash shrieked, grabbing his balls and tearing the shorts off. “Who put fucking Icy Hot in my cup?”

  Ryan laughed. So did the rest of the team. And like that, the tension dissipated. They were a team after all. Nothing could tear them apart. He wouldn’t allow it.

  “You should be more careful about where you put your dick.”

  Bash eyed him warily. He wrapped a towel around himself and made his way across the aisle. “We cool?”

  “Yeah, man. We’re cool.”

  “I’ve missed you. Hell, the whole team has.” Relief washed over his face as Bash shifted uncomfortably. “Glad you’re back.”

  “Me, too. Looking forward to getting back on the ice.”

  “Dude. If you guys start making out, I’m gonna hurl,” Jordy said, clapping Ryan on the back.

  Everyone laughed again and Ryan put his fist up, doing the guy thing and giving Bash a fist bump. “Let’s hit the ice.”

  While the other guys filed out of the locker room, he sent Chloe a quick text.

  You were right. Icy Hot in the jock was priceless. You should have seen his face. Guys loved it.

  No sooner did he push send than his phone rang and Chloe’s name flashed across the screen.

  “Hey, princess.”

  “What the fuck, Ryan!” she yelled, ignoring the pet name she hated more than him. “Have you seen Page Six? Not only did that scumbag pap sell them the pictures from the other night, somehow they got pics from the bodega.”

  “Slow down. What are you talking about?”

  “Listen to this… Ryan Douglas and his new flame were shopping together when an armed robber entered the store. Our sources tell us the couple disarmed the assailant and held him until police arrived. According to the police report, Ryan’s new love interest is none other than Chloe Jacobs, a Junior Associate at Pritchard, Bennett, and Associates. Could it be love? We think the story certainly has a Hollywood feel!”

  Ryan snickered at the ridiculousness of the whole thing. Who he was fucking hardly qualified as news. “What’s the big deal? Nobody reads that crap anyway.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” she asked, her voice rising an octave. “This is New York City. Everyone reads that crap!”

  “Who cares?” he asked, trying another angle. He’d hoped the photog had taken only his picture at the restaurant, but clearly it was wishful thinking. Much as he’d wanted to smash the guy’s camera for the way he was eyeing Chloe, that sort of behavior only incited the paps further. What was done was done. Besides, in a day or two, The Post would be back to reporting on debutants and other inane bullshit. They’d be old news.

  “Who cares?” she shrieked. “Me! I care. I told you, I’m done with men. Especially athletes. Been there, done that, better off single. Hell, I’d rather die a spinster. No offense. Besides, it’s not even true. We had sex. Last I checked, that didn’t make us a couple.”

  Ryan scrubbed a hand over his face, unsure of how to respond. She wasn’t exactly wrong. They definitely weren’t a couple. No way in hell was he going down that road again. Not after the way things with Kelsey had crashed and burned.

  “My Twitter feed is blowing up. Half of them congratulating me for banging such a hottie, the other half swearing to beat my ass for snagging their fangirl crush.”

  “Come to the game with me tonight,” he offered, the words pouring out before he could consider what he was asking.

  “What? No way. Did you hit your head at practice?” she asked, disbelief coloring her words. “Did you even hear a word I said?”

  “My head is fine. And I heard everything you said.” He grinned, imaging her pissed off and flushed. How such a tiny woman could channel so much aggression was beyond his comprehension, but he was more than happy to help her find a physical outlet for it. “People will expect you to be there. And, more importantly, it will look good to your boss and get extra press for Garden of Dreams. You know what they say in PR. Any press is good press, as long as people are talking.”

  She muttered something unintelligible, a sure sign she was cussing like a drunk sailor.

  “It’ll be fun. We’ll sit in the owner’s suite with the other guys on injured reserve.” He paused, giving her time to think it over before delivering the knockout punch. “And if you’re a good girl, I’ll take you home and fuck you so hard you won’t give two shits about Page Six or those Twitter trolls.”

  The sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line was all the answer he needed. Unfortunately, his dick didn’t get the message this was a future offer of pleasure, not one to be played out immediately. He bounced on his skates, adjusting his padding and loosening his suddenly too tight balls.

  “Fine. But I’m only doing this for Garden of Dreams. What should I wear?”

  Chapter Seven

  Ryan cut across the concourse, making a beeline for the concierge area. Chloe stayed nipping at his heels—no small feat considering the five-inch stilettos she was wearing. Normally she loved large crowds, but after the feature on Page Six, she would happily retreat to the privacy of the suite and avoid the masses. And the masses were pumped. The Garden was pulsing with energy and everyone seemed to be caught up in it, even Ryan. The Rangers were facing the New Jersey Devils, and apparently it was a pretty big deal. At least that’s what Wikipedia said. She snickered. Ryan would probably shit if he knew she’d had to Google the teams.

  She glanced down at her dress. Had she chosen conservatively enough? The black wool felt Upper East Side to her, but what did she know about Lifestyles of the Rich and Richer? Only what she’d read on the internet. And while she didn’t know crap about hockey, she knew anyone who had an owner’s suite at The Garden probably fell into the latter category. The last thing she wanted to do was embarrass herself tonight. Or Ryan. Plus, she wasn’t looking for an encore appearance on Page Six. The irony of it wasn’t lost on her, considering the only reason she’d agreed to go to the stupid game with him was to garner press for Garden of Dreams and maybe do a little networking.

  Stopping at the bank of elevators labeled club level, Ry
an turned, finding her eyes glued to his ass. Busted. Yeah, that earned her a smirk and a full frontal of his unmatched hotness. The man looked good in his uniform, but in a suit? He was hot as puck. And he knew it. Adding insult to injury, he dragged a hand through his hair, brushing aside the strands that framed his angular face. He was worse than any woman, leaving the top button of his shirt open and teasing her with just a hint of the defined muscles that she knew shaped his chest and arms.

  “Tease.”

  “After you, princess.” He slipped an arm around her waist and guided her into one of the waiting elevator cars. Despite the heavy fabric of her dress, she could feel warmth emanating from the open palm cupping her back. When his thumb made a lazy pass across her lower vertebrae, her body responded immediately. Such a simple thing, but it warmed her belly, lust pooling hot and heavy. Molten even. His touch had that effect. The man could take her from ho-hum to total eruption in a heartbeat. Like Maytag, he was built strong to last long. Fuck. Rest. Repeat.

  The elevator attendant smiled knowingly, igniting her cheeks. Shit. One look and even he knew she didn’t belong. That, or he knew she had a gutter brain. Unable to decide which was worse, she stared at her reflection on the door, refusing further eye contact.

  They rode up to the suite level in silence. She wanted to grab Ryan’s hand and assuage her nerves, but she didn’t want to do anything that might attract unwanted attention. Behind closed doors she could fuck his brains out, do every filthy little thing her dirty mind could conceive of, but holding hands in public was off-limits. Not that she was complaining. The sex was more than enough.

 

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