Once Upon a Power Play

by Jennifer Bonds

  “You are a very naughty girl,” he said, toying with her hair.

  “So I’ve been told. What are you going to do about it?”

  “Princess, I am going to punish you all night long.” He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her slow and deep, drawing her back off the bed. She circled her hips, pushing them against his hardened cock. Once. Twice. She moaned, loving the feel of him between her thighs. “And you’re going to enjoy every second of it.”

  Ryan pushed up off the bed and dropped to the floor. Pulling her hips to the edge of the bed, he settled between her knees. Chloe’s legs shook with anticipation. There was a very real possibility she’d be on the floor with him before he was done. Ryan leaned close, licking her inner thigh with a slow, lazy scrape of his tongue. He moved north, kissing his way to the V between her legs. Blistering heat tore through her body as he licked her, sucking hard on her clit through the lace that separated their bodies.

  “Take them off,” she begged, desperate to feel his mouth on her. “Please take them off.”

  “When I take these tiny little panties off, I’m going to fuck you with my tongue,” he said, pulling them down to her knees and pausing. “And you’re going to watch me. Understand?”

  She moaned again, unable to help herself. Her head rolled to the side as she twisted her fingers in the comforter. When he put his tongue on her again, she was going to come. No doubt about it.

  “Look at me,” he ordered, biting the inside of her thigh as he dragged the thong down over her feet. Chloe sat up, locking her gaze on him, legs quaking with anticipation. “That’s my girl.”

  Ryan’s eyes never left hers as he spread her legs wide and devoured her. The moment his tongue touched her, she spiraled toward release, her body clenching tight as he circled her clit, working her to the brink of madness. Staring straight into his eyes, she called out his name, her body rocked by the intensity of her orgasm.

  Laying boneless in his bed with her feet dangling over the side, she wondered if there was another orgasm in her immediate future. After all, back at the club he’d promised her two good ones. It didn’t take long to get her answer. Ryan stripped off his T-shirt and jeans, standing before her naked as the day he was born, and she knew that sinful body of his would send her flying again.

  He moved to the nightstand and retrieved a condom from the drawer. Figuring she might as well look her fill while he had his back turned, Chloe rolled onto her side and admired his ass. She couldn’t remember ever seeing it bare before, and it wasn’t the kind of thing she was likely to forget. Hell, if she had that ass, she’d run around commando, too.

  “Admiring the view?” he asked, turning to face her, the grin on his face confirming he already knew the answer.

  “Something like that,” she said, climbing to her knees and meeting him at the edge of the bed. She ran her hands over the smooth muscles of his stomach, relishing the way they rippled under her touch. Was he ticklish? She made a mental note to test the theory later, when it wouldn’t jeopardize a perfectly good orgasm. Stroking the head of his penis, she pulled him close and fused her mouth to his. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the kiss as his lips moved hungrily over hers. The space between them evaporated and once again, Ryan lifted her from the bed, lying her down on her back, his body positioned above her. Chloe nibbled his bottom lip, enjoying the lingering taste of spearmint on his breath. She whimpered when Ryan pulled away.

  “Open your eyes.”

  “Didn’t we already play this game?” she teased, jutting out her bottom lip. He swooped down and bit it, tugging gently. As he sucked on her lip, Chloe forgot all about games, winners, and losers. She only had one thing in mind, and Ryan would deliver.

  When he pushed into her, filling her completely, she cried out, knowing the feeling of euphoria would quickly grow to a mind-blowing crescendo. His eyes remained fixed on hers as he slowly withdrew and sank back into her, burying himself to the hilt. Each move was slower than the last—deliberately, excruciatingly slow. Her skin was too tight, her temperature too hot. Every nerve in her body tingled with pleasure as their bodies joined, blurring the line between them. It was intense and exquisite and reality altering. She never wanted it to end.

  Staring into his eyes as he pleasured her body? Knowing he was watching every moan, whimper, and sob? Each arch of her back, twist of her head, bite of her lip? It was sexy as hell. Erotic even.

  Unable to take the slow glide any longer, Chloe rocked her hips, meeting him halfway. Ryan groaned, pressing his forehead to hers. It was all the encouragement he needed. Holding her tight, his fingers dug into her back as he pumped into her, their hips crashing together. Wrapping her legs around him, she gave herself over to the pleasure he offered. Need ripped through her body, seeking release for the tension that had coiled deep in her belly. Two more quick thrusts and her body shattered to pieces, clenching him tight and savoring the afterglow of amazing sex.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ryan toyed with Chloe’s curls, trying to decide the best way to wake her. His gut told him she wasn’t a morning person. It also told him he was starving and there was nothing to eat in his cabinets except a few slices of bread. Bread coated with a questionable green fuzz. So, yeah, he was going to take his chances.

  His stomach growled. Again.

  Chloe’s eyelids fluttered. “What time is it?” she grumbled, stretching and arching her back. The woman had wicked sex hair, but he wasn’t about to point it out. The look suited her just fine, and he was more than happy about his role in helping her achieve it.

  “Almost nine.” He leaned down and kissed her, loving the way she responded immediately, rising up to meet him, crushing her soft lips to his. “You want to grab breakfast?”

  Pulling herself into an upright position, she glanced at her clothes, which he’d folded and laid across the foot of the bed. “Probably not a good idea.”

  “Why not?” He rubbed her knee absently. “You have to be hungry after last night.”

  “Hungry? Yes. Walk of shame? Not so much.” She gave him a wry grin and pointed. “There is nothing about that shirt that is appropriate for nine a.m.”

  “Easy fix,” he assured her. “My sisters are always forgetting stuff when they visit. I’ll bet there’s something that would fit you in the guest room. Get dressed. I’ll go check.”

  Thirty minutes later he was ushering Chloe through the line at his favorite café, after finding her a turquoise blouse one of his sisters had left behind.

  “You’re really going to eat all of that?” she asked with a disbelieving stare as the cashier bagged his order.

  He chuckled and paid for their food. “Skating burns a lot of calories. And I’ve always had a good metabolism.”

  “If I ate like a garbage disposal, I’d look like the Pillsbury Doughboy.” She sighed and sipped her giant coffee. “So where are we going anyway?”

  “It’s a surprise,” he said, slinging an arm across her shoulders and steering her out into the crisp December air. “I want to show you one of my favorite places in the city.”

  They stopped at The Garden, knocking on one of the service doors around back.

  “You know, if you wanted to have sex, we could’ve skipped the cold and just stayed at your place,” she quipped, gripping her cup with two hands. Steam escaped out the top, mingling with her frosty breath.

  “Cute, but we’re not here for sex.”

  The door opened and one of the security guards waved them in. “Cold one today,” he said, closing the door behind them.

  “Thanks, Joe.” Ryan turned to Chloe. “This is my friend Chloe. I’m just going to give her a quick tour and then we’ll be out of your hair.”

  “No problem, man. Take your time. Nothing going on this morning.”

  Sunday mornings at The Garden were usually pretty quiet, unless the Knicks were playing at home. It was Ryan’s favorite time to visit. No crowds, no pressure, no responsibility. He could just soak up the silence and think. A
lone. In fact, this was the first time he’d brought anyone with him, he realized. Not once had he brought Kelsey. It wouldn’t have interested her. She’d never missed a game, and was always there for a public show of support, but hanging out at the rink on a quiet Sunday morning? Not likely.

  Trying not to think too hard about why he’d brought Chloe, he led her to the rink, choosing seats at center ice, where they ate in silence. He could feel her gaze on him, but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. If anything, it felt curious. Not surprising—after all, she had to be wondering why he’d brought her. Hell, he wasn’t quite sure himself. Balling up the wrapper from his sandwich, he stuffed it back in the bag and finished off his orange juice.

  “Playing for the Rangers has been a dream of mine for as long as I can remember.” He leaned back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. How many times had he uttered that phrase? To reporters, fans, other players. It wasn’t personal, but sitting in the quiet arena with Chloe, it felt that way. “My old man is a diehard fan. I grew up watching the Blueshirts. When I was eight years old, Mark Messier led the team to their first cup in over fifty years. I remember it like it was yesterday.” He pointed to the rafters where red, white, and blue banners bearing the name and number of former players hung. “They retired his number in 2006.”

  “That’s incredible.” She dropped her hand on his, infusing it with warmth. “Most kids change their dreams a hundred times before they reach adulthood. And very few actually get to live them. You must’ve worked really hard to get where you are today.”

  He shrugged, embarrassed by her assumption. “When I was a kid, my parents brought me to New York to see the Rangers play. At the time, I thought it was the coolest thing ever.” He shook his head, remembering how excited he’d been. “Even better than Disney World. I made sure we were waiting at the doors when they opened. I was on the edge of my seat trying to absorb every little detail of The Garden. My dad said to me, ‘Ryan, if you work hard, you can make it. I know you’ve got the talent, son.’ Even now his words are the one thing that stands out above the rest.”

  She grinned, her whole face lighting up. “Looks like you proved him right.”

  “I was really lucky.” That part was true. He never would have made it otherwise. Even Kelsey, the one person he thought would always be in his corner, had seen it. “My parents were really supportive. Hell, they believed in me when no one else did.”

  She arched her brow and pursed her lips. “It can’t all be luck. Give yourself some credit.”

  “I guess. I just don’t want to let them down. When I got hurt, a lot of people said I’d never recover. Not my parents though. They said, get your ass back out there and prove them wrong.”

  “They sound like my kind of people.”

  “Are you kidding? They’d love you.” He realized his mistake too late. Chloe would never meet his parents. That wasn’t what they were about. Suddenly, he was at a loss for words. The silence that hung between them was beyond awkward. Painful, that’s how he’d describe it.

  Chloe stared at the ice. “Do you come here often to clear your head?”

  “When I can,” he admitted, impressed she’d made the connection. “Close your eyes.”

  She shot him a warning look, but complied, tipping her head back.

  “Take a deep breath. Smell the ice. Feel the cold in your lungs. Now imagine yourself flying across the ice. The rush of adrenaline that comes with it.” He closed his eyes, taking her hand in his. Despite all the intimate moments they’d shared, he was hyperaware of her presence next to him. Maybe it had been stupid to bring her here, but he couldn’t turn back now. “Once it gets in your bones, you can never get it out. There’s nothing like it in the world. I love the game.”

  Chloe sat up and turned to him, their knees bumping in the process. “This is your place,” she said, looking around, as if seeing it for the first time through his eyes. “The one place where everything makes sense.”

  He narrowed his eyes. How the hell had she managed to see it and articulate it so clearly, when he hadn’t even known it himself until just a few months ago? “You’re a little too perceptive, you know that?”

  He squeezed her hand, seeking a lifeline as the words he’d never spoken aloud poured from his mouth. “Getting injured opened my eyes to the very real prospect of being traded. Or worse, permanently sidelined. Sitting around in that hospital room, I realized I had nothing without the game. No one gives a damn about Ryan Douglas the Sci-Fi geek with quick hands from Minnesota. They want Ryan Douglas, Captain of the New York Rangers and the NHL’s hottest center. Ryan Douglas is nothing without the game. Without the fans, the fame, the money. I am nothing without the game.”

  And it scared the shit out of him.

  Chloe’s heart faltered at Ryan’s confession. Why had he told her those things? She hadn’t asked, and she certainly hadn’t expected him to spill his guts to her. Seeing Ryan as something other than the pompous, self-centered, pretentious jerk she’d met that first night at the bodega? It was too dangerous. If she made the mistake of seeing him as anything else she might go and do something stupid like fall for him. And she knew exactly where that road led.

  Heartbreak Hotel.

  Still, he was hurting and it wasn’t in her nature to sit idly by while others were in pain. And somewhere along the way, she’d at least come to think of Ryan as a friend. An annoyingly sexy friend, but a friend nonetheless.

  Crawling into his lap, she twisted her body so they were face to face. His eyes were hard, like the ice he loved so much. “I’m sure there are some scumbag freeloaders in your life who’re happy to bask in your fame and fortune, but you know what?” she asked, stroking his cheek, desperate to soften those eyes. “When you’re ready to cut them loose, you’ll be stronger for it, and they’ll help you appreciate the people who really matter. Your family, your friends, they’ll be there for you no matter what. They love you for you, Ryan. Star Wars references and all.”

  He studied her, his face deadly serious. “Are you making fun of me now?” he finally asked, a playful glint in his eye. “That’s a dangerous game, one you are not equipped to win.” Before she could move, he was tickling her sides and she was squealing like a toddler, doing everything she could to wriggle from his iron grip. It was useless. She howled with laughter, begging for mercy. When he finally stopped, she gasped to catch her breath.

  “What about you?” he asked, dragging a gentle hand down her cheek and following the long line of her neck. Ryan’s touch left a blaze of heat in its wake, stoking the always smoldering desire he evoked in her without even trying. “You’re not like the others. Why is that? What are you so afraid of that you’ve sworn off men and settled for… whatever this is?”

  Damn. She’d walked right into that one, hadn’t she? Maybe she should lie. It would be a hell of a lot less painful than admitting the truth. But no, he’d been straight with her, and he deserved her honesty in return, no matter how uncomfortable it might be.

  “I’m not afraid,” she said, lifting her chin. “I’m exhausted. I’ve kissed my fair share of frogs, and all I got for my trouble was slimy lips. Hell, the last time I thought I found Prince Charming, he upgraded to a blond model who was a better fit for his image. She got the heirloom diamond; I got the curb.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing her arm and looking at her with such pity that anger bubbled up from her belly. The last thing she wanted was pity. Especially from him.

  “It was a long time ago.” She shrugged, striving for indifference and tamping down the emotions that threatened to burst forth. He was worried about being traded? She could relate. She was tired of being traded. “Happily ever after is a fairytale that’s not meant for me. Some women get it, some don’t. I’ve got a great career, wonderful friends, and my very own sex god on speed dial. It’s more than enough,” she finished, wishing like hell she believed her own words.

  Chapter Thirteen

 
; Tucking her legs beneath her, Chloe settled into the couch with a glass of wine and her laptop. The game would be on in a few minutes, and she fully intended to get a glimpse of Ryan’s sexy face while she worked. The Rangers were wrapping up a road series and she hadn’t seen him in nearly a week. Five days to be exact. Five long, frustrating, sex-free days. Not that she was counting or anything. Which just proved the time apart was probably good. It would keep her from becoming a sex-addled fool, something that was a very real risk with Ryan. At least she was putting her nookie-free time to good use, keeping her promise to do something meaningful that had nothing to do with men or fairytales.

  Although her job description technically ended at PR and Marketing for Garden of Dreams, the children at the foundation were impossible to let go. The more she got to know them, the more she wanted to help. When the opportunity to volunteer for their Christmas party presented itself, she jumped on it. Plus, she could ensure the event got tons of PR, which meant more donations. She’d even arranged an auction for the high-ticket items she’d hustled from the players. It was shaping up to be her very own hat trick.

  Jabbing the volume button on the remote, she cranked up the sound as the national anthem wound down. Her eyes swept the screen, seeking number fifty-eight. Ryan glided to center ice and prepared for the face-off. After their time at The Garden together, she saw the game—and him—in a different light. It was impossible not to. On the ice he was so serious. Focused. Driven. A born leader. She envied him that, wishing there was something in her life to be so passionate about. And off the ice? He was nothing like she would have imagined. The cocky, arrogant guy who’d flipped her bitch switch that first night? That wasn’t the real Ryan. He really was more Minnesota than New York. An actual, honest-to-God nice guy. Something she never would have believed it she hadn’t experienced it firsthand.

  The puck hit the ice and the two centers jockeyed for position, trying to gain control of the puck. Ryan lost cleanly. Cringing, Chloe reminded herself it didn’t matter. It was still too early to call the game. There were three nail-biting periods to go. Sipping her wine, she watched for a few minutes as the two teams traded the puck back and forth, moving up and down the ice at a breakneck speed. If the first two minutes of play were any indication, it was going to be a brutal game with a whole lot of checking. And probably a fight or two.