Once Upon a Power Play

by Jennifer Bonds

  Chloe slammed her glass down on the table, a triumphant grin on her face. The group of players that circled them cheered, encouraging her to do another shot. He gritted his teeth, hoping like hell she’d pass. Trying to talk sense into her had been pointless. In typical Chloe fashion, his argument had fallen on deaf ears. Or more likely, she’d done it to spite him, proving she would do whatever the hell she wanted whether he approved or not. Honestly, it didn’t surprise him at all.

  What did surprise him was how grossly the guys had underestimated her. Apparently she hadn’t been kidding when she said she could drink them under the table, and the guys were paying the price for it now. By his count, she’d scored two game jerseys, an appearance for the Christmas party, and a pair of club seats to the New Year’s Eve game, all of which would benefit Garden of Dreams.

  Jordy pushed another shot across the table. Much to his relief, Chloe shook her head, signaling she was done with whiskey.

  “Nice doing business with you boys, but I got what I came for. I’m going to dance.” She sat her beer on the table and high-fived her friend, the two of them celebrating Chloe’s hustle. Turning from the table, she crashed into Ryan in the tight space. His arms went around her protectively, preventing her from stumbling. Her body curled into him, her breasts pressed to his chest. And damn if he didn’t want to hold onto her all night.

  “Move aside, wallflower.” She gave a throaty laugh and patted him on the arm, her dark eyes shining with life. “The dance floor is calling my name.”

  “You’re going to go dance by yourself?” That sounded like the worst idea ever. She probably couldn’t even walk straight, let alone dance.

  “Why shouldn’t I?” she asked, grinding her hips against his in a circular motion. On second thought, she seemed to have perfect control of her body. And his, too. His balls tightened in response to the feel of her soft curves against him. If she was trying to tempt him, she was definitely going about it the right way. “Won’t be the first time.”

  “I wouldn’t go too far if I were you,” cautioned Jordy. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “The minute you turn your back, the puck bunnies will descend.”

  “What the hell is a puck bunny?” Chloe turned to Ryan expectantly.

  No way was he going there. Shaking his head, he took a pull on his beer. “Don’t look at me. Jordy brought it up, let him explain it.”

  “A puck bunny is a woman who likes to fuck hockey players,” Jordy explained, completely matter-of-fact. “Single. Engaged. Married. With kids. They don’t care. They just like to puck.”

  Chloe’s eyes ricocheted from Jordy to Ryan and back again. She burst out laughing. “You’re hilarious, Jordy.”

  “Who’s joking?”

  “Well, Ryan’s a grown man and he can do what he wants. Despite that nonsense on Page Six, we’re not a thing,” she whispered. With the loud bass pumping through the speakers it was more like a yell. Half the club probably heard her. “We’re just…friends. Hell, we don’t even like each other most of the time.”

  Jordy quirked a brow at Ryan as Chloe sauntered to the dance floor without a backward glance.

  He shrugged. What could he say? The woman had spoken, making it perfectly clear what they were and what they were not. He knew the deal. It really didn’t matter what anyone else thought, even if it did bruise his pride just a little to hear her say it so casually.

  Chloe squeezed through the crowd, joining the hundreds of other pulsating bodies on the dance floor. Curious, he watched as she closed her eyes and began to move her body in time with the music. It was like she absorbed the beat, her small frame twisting and writhing in ways that had his cock twitching in anticipation. She raised her arms over her head, extending her body into one sexy, long line. Shaking her ass, Chloe eased her body toward the floor. Her moves were slow and seductive, knees parted just enough to hint at what lay beneath the short skirt.

  The reminder nearly pushed him over the edge. There was nothing—nothing—he wanted more than to bury himself between those soft thighs. He would lick that sweet pussy of hers until she was thrashing against his mouth, back bowed, screaming his name with abandon.

  Totally absorbed in the music, she seemed unaware of Ryan’s gaze, or any of the other men watching her alluring dance. His gut twisted. He really didn’t like the way they were watching her, eyes raking over her body, shit-eating grins plastered on their faces. Especially the guy in the silky purple shirt who seemed to be inching closer to her, preparing to make a move, like he thought he had a chance. Taking a pull on his beer, he reminded himself Chloe was an adult. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Hell, it was her mantra, and she’d reminded him no less than a dozen times. Besides, he had no claim on her. Nor did he want one.

  A hand clapped him on the back, and he turned to see Miller at his side. The kid had just been traded a few months ago. He seemed nice enough, but he was still finding his place on the team. Tonight he reeked of alcohol, suggesting he’d had a few too many drinks.

  Miller grinned up at him like they were old friends. “See you traded in the supermodel for a spinner.”

  Something dark and ugly rolled through him. For the second time that night, he had the urge to put his fist through another man’s face. He gripped the edge of the table, keeping his hands steady. The kid was lit. Probably didn’t even know what he was saying. Despite the baser urges insisting he defend his woman, he needed to respond as Miller’s captain, not Chloe’s lover. That didn’t mean he couldn’t put the kid in his damn place.

  “You’ve had too much to drink, Miller. Why don’t you go home and sleep it off before you start something you can’t finish?” He cut his eyes at the younger man. “And the next time I see you out, show a little fucking respect.”

  Without another word, Miller vanished into the crowd. Ryan returned his attention to Chloe. Purple shirt was within striking distance now. So close he could probably smell the sweet lure of her perfume mixed with the musky scent of the crowd. The way his eyes were fixed on her ass, there was no doubt he’d be rubbing his greasy body against her any minute, assuming that she was alone and looking for company.

  No fucking way that was going to happen. The guy was about to find out just how wrong he was.

  Chapter Eleven

  The strong, steady beat of the music washed over Chloe, the seductive notes circling her like a lover’s embrace, sweeping away coherent thought. On the dance floor she didn’t have to think or even care. She could just be. There were no exes, no paps, and no pressure. It felt glorious to let go and lose herself in the vibrations of the music, melding into the rhythmic motions of the crowd.

  A hand latched onto her waist. She twisted around, slipping free of the unwanted contact. When it returned seconds later, skating over her midsection, it was clear a more direct approach would be required. Fixing a smile on her face, she turned to the guy with the roving hands. He wasn’t unattractive and clearly had confidence to spare, judging by the purple satin shirt he wore. Still, she wasn’t interested.

  “I prefer to dance alone.” She removed his hand, hoping he’d get the message.

  “Really?” he asked, his mouth twisting into a less than sincere smile. “Because it sure as hell looked like you were in the mood for some company.”

  “Back off,” she warned, crossing her arms over her chest and staring pointedly at his junk. “Unless you want to spend the rest of the night speaking soprano?”

  He studied her, no doubt wondering if she was serious, before raking a hand through his hair and taking off in search of new prey.

  Chloe returned to her dance, letting her eyes drift shut as the pulsating crowd swallowed her once again. She relished the anonymity the club afforded. There was nowhere else could she be this free.

  She sensed Ryan’s presence before he touched her, his fingertips brushing the swell of her hip. Testing. Teasing. Tempting.

  Her eyes shot open. And there he stood, a fantasy come to life, undressi
ng her with those crystalline eyes. His long hair framed his face in that irritatingly sexy I’m-hot-without-even-trying look it would take her hours of styling and two tons of product to achieve. But when he stared at her like she was the only woman in the club? She couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed.

  A new kind of warmth spread through her already heated body, fanning out from the spot where his fingers stroked her bare skin, blazing a trail toward her center. The man was intense, she’d give him that. Desire coiled low in her belly. Wrapping a powerful arm around her lower back, he claimed her. Their bodies crashed together, forcing the air from her lungs. Ryan remained frozen, awkwardly immobile in the fluid crowd. Apparently he wasn’t much of a dancer, so why the hell was he on the dance floor?

  “What are you doing?” she demanded

  “I could ask you the same thing,” he returned, cutting his eyes at the dude she’d just chased off. “Who’s your friend?”

  “Jealous?” She didn’t believe it for a second, but it seemed like a natural question. Why else would he have abandoned the comfort and security of the VIP section?

  “Just wanted to make sure you didn’t get into trouble,” he replied, dodging her question. Typical.

  “Well, as you can see, I’m perfectly fine.” She lifted her chin and pressed her hands to his chest, pushing him back and giving herself just enough room to maneuver. “And as I’m sure you heard, I’m not looking for a dance partner.”

  “Hate to break it to you, princess, but it looks like you found one all the same.”

  “Who? You?” she asked, not bothering to hide her disbelief as she took in his rigid stance. “Think you can keep up?”

  “Can you?” he asked, no doubt knowing her stupid pride wouldn’t let her walk away from a challenge.

  Channeling her inner sex-kitten, she spun around, raking a hand through her hair as she brought her backside to his pelvis. She glanced over her shoulder and winked at him, rotating her hips and rubbing his cock with her barely covered ass. The growl that rumbled from his lips only solidified her resolve. Forging ahead, she tipped her head and slid down the front of his body, dragging her back over his growing erection. The feel of his hardened cock gliding up her body was sinfully delicious, like a too rich dessert that would never be conquered. That was okay. She fully intended to push the limits of decency if that’s what it took to make him back down. Did he have any idea how erotic and sexy a simple dance could be?

  Ever so slowly, she rose to her full height, skimming her palms over the soft fabric of his dress pants. The sculpted muscles that lay beneath called to her, a reminder of the thousands of hours he’d spent on the ice. Unfortunately, being a damn near perfect physical specimen wasn’t a guarantee of rhythm. He remained stiff, unable or unwilling to succumb to the pulse of the music, completely separate from the beat driving Chloe’s every move. The only change was the cadence of his breath on her ear. She reached back over her shoulder and tangled her fingers in his hair, caressing his cheek and neck as she continued the rhythmic assault, letting the music rock her body without a care in the world.

  That’s all it took for Ryan’s restraint to crack. He gripped her hips, fingers digging into the flesh with unchecked hunger. Their bodies began to move in unison, like they’d done this hypnotic dance a thousand times before. The friction his thigh created as it rubbed against hers? It was bordering on orgasmic. Chloe closed her eyes, reveling in his touch.

  “Open your eyes.” Ryan tipped her chin toward him with rough hands. It was a command, not a request. “You’re going to keep your eyes open and look at me while we are dancing. And tonight when I take you back to my place? You’re going to keep them open while I’m fucking you—first with my tongue, then my dick— so you can see just how much I enjoy pleasuring that sweet little body of yours.”

  Her mouth went dry. What could she possibly say to that? Yes, please? Two O’s sounds great?

  “And I’m going to watch you the whole time. Do you know why I’m going to do that, princess?”

  She shook her head. As long as he was giving out orgasms, she didn’t care why.

  “I’m going to watch you so I can memorize the look on your face when I make you come. That look?” He rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip, leaning down and closing the distance between them. “It’s going to get me through the next road series. I’m going to go back to my hotel every night and remember what it’s like to bury myself between your thighs, while I stroke one off.”

  “Wanna get out of here?” she asked, suddenly less interested in dancing and more interesting in getting naked.

  Grabbing her hand, he led her back to the table where the others were still whooping it up. Jordy’s shot glass collection had grown considerably while they were gone. It was a wonder the dude was still standing. Then again, like Ryan, he was a giant so he could probably drink a whole damn bottle and still walk the line. She said good night to Becca, checking to ensure her friend had a safe escort home.

  Once again, she thanked the guys for their generous donations to Garden of Dreams and congratulated them on their victory over the Flyers. Jordy wrapped her in the mother of all bear hugs, nearly crushing her lungs. Then and there she made a mental note to never accept a drinking challenge from a professional athlete again, even if he did need to be knocked down a few pegs. Before he let go, he whispered a warning in her ear. “I’ve never seen Ryan dance—ever. Not even with Kelsey.”

  Fuck. She followed his gaze, confirming what she already knew. Kelsey was sitting on Bash’s lap, giving her a good old-fashioned death glare, which meant she’d probably be even more pissed off when she saw them leave together. Talk about kicking the hornet’s nest. “Looks like puck bunnies are the least of my worries.”

  Chloe stood at the door to Ryan’s apartment, nerves tugging at her belly. Which was stupid. She and Ryan had hooked up lots of times. And thanks to Page Six, the whole world knew it. What difference did it make where they did it? His place was as good a place as any. No big deal. She couldn’t very well expect him to come to her tiny apartment every time could she? Especially after his last visit. She grinned. He was probably afraid she’d cuff him to the bed, Misery style, and never let him go. The sex really was that freaking amazing.

  Ryan opened the door and stepped aside so Chloe could pass by. The second he closed the door to the apartment, her mouth was on him, devouring his lips with unrestrained passion. He must have liked it because that naughty tongue of his was doing dangerous things as he thrust it in her mouth, peppering her with little nips from his teeth. His cock responded to her immediately, pressing against the soft denim of his jeans. She gripped his front pockets and gave a tug, pulling his hips tight against her belly. He swallowed a groan.

  What the hell had come over her? It was like she’d thrown all her inhibitions out the window, acting on impulse alone. First the game, now this? On second thought, as long as he kept those punishing kisses coming, she didn’t care if she’d jumped feet first into the Twilight Zone. The feel of his erection pressed to her stomach had her body firing on all cylinders. It felt damn good.

  Right up until Ryan pulled away, taking those addictive lips with him.

  “Hey!” Chloe protested.

  Pressing a finger to her lips, Ryan silenced her. “My house. My rules.” To emphasize his point, he ducked down and wrapped his arms behind her knees, hoisting her over his shoulder. Chloe giggled. “Princess, there’s nothing funny about what I’m going to do to you tonight. I meant what I said back at the club. You are going to watch every lick and thrust so you can remember who it is that makes you come so hard.”

  “Less talk, more action,” Chloe quipped, her sarcasm earning her a swat on the ass. Ryan’s hand cracked against her backside, echoing through the silent apartment. It stung, but it was nothing compared to the ache she felt when he reached under her skirt to massage her bottom, his fingers toying with the edge of her underwear, skating oh-so-close to her aching center without actually making con
tact. Damn. She needed to feel him inside her. Right-freaking-now. Wiggling her bottom, she tried angling her body for sweet relief.

  No such luck.

  Ryan withdrew his hand, wrenching a tortured sob from her lips. This was clearly another test of wills, and he was hell-bent on punishing her. He’d proven he could dish it out, but could he take it?

  Pausing at the end of the hall, he flipped on the bedroom light. Then he dropped his shoulder, his hands skating over the curves of her body. A shiver ran straight up her spine as he lowered her to the floor. Her feet landed on a plush white rug that would have turned ten shades of filthy in her own apartment. She scanned the room, taking in the masculine decor that was all Ryan. The slate gray walls were a stark contrast to the white linens. And that bed. It was a monster. Of course, Ryan was a giant, so that part kind of made sense.

  Which reminded her, it was time to take back the control she’d had at the club. Giving herself some breathing room, she strutted across the room, dragging a finger along the edge of the dresser as she passed. She wiggled her ass for good measure, knowing it would drive him wild, reminding him of their earlier dance. When she reached the bed, she kicked off her heels. First the right one. Then the left. She climbed up on the bed, remaining on her hands and knees, shamelessly flashing Ryan her red thong in the process. Twisting around, she blew him a kiss over her left shoulder.

  That was all it took. He was on her in an instant. Grabbing her around the waist, he flipped her over and pinned her to the bed, the soft down comforter surrounding her as his massive weight pressed down from above.