Here We Go

by Shannon Stacey

  He got off on her wearing his name, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to talk about how hard that realization hit him. And he wasn’t sure how she’d feel about that. “I get off on you. Everything about you turns me on. Your laugh. The way you give your hair a little twist when you pull it free of your collar. And yes, I get off on seeing you in my jersey.”

  “I don’t want to distract you from your game,” she said in a far-too-innocent voice, considering she’d taken his free hand and was guiding it under the hem of the jersey, eliminating any doubt she wasn’t wearing underwear.

  He tightened his other hand in her hair and tilted her head to the side so he could kiss her neck. “What game?”

  When he dipped his hand between her thighs and she made a low groaning sound in her throat, he was surprised his knees didn’t buckle. She was wet already, and he stroked her until she whimpered and tried to pull away.

  “You started it,” he whispered against her ear. “I think you get off on wearing my jersey, too.”

  “The way you looked at me…” The words trailed off into a moan as he pressed his fingertips over her clit.

  Then he withdrew his hand and turned her around to face the couch before pressing down on her back to bend her over. She braced her hands on the arm of the couch, and he ran his hands down the back of the jersey, allowing himself a few seconds to savor that rush of possessiveness, before he got down on his knees behind her.

  He heard her gasp when he closed his mouth over her pussy, and he sucked hard on her clit before circling his tongue around it. Alternating between licking and sucking, he didn’t let up until her skin was hot under his touch and her legs were trembling.

  Then he brought his hand into it, pressing his thumb deep into her until she said his name in a pleading tone that almost sent him over the edge. He withdrew his thumb so he could circle her clit with it, his tongue dipping inside of her until he felt her muscles trembling and she made that sound that always rocked his world.

  He curled his free arm around her thighs, holding her while his thumb circled her clit so she wouldn’t fall while the orgasm racked her body. And when it had passed, he ran his hand over the cheek of her ass and gave her a moment to catch her breath.

  “Jesus, Will,” she muttered against the battered leather before pushing herself upright.

  When she turned in his arms, her flushed face turning up to face him, Will’s dick throbbed so badly, he was afraid he was going to embarrass himself. “I don’t have a condom, so let’s take this to the bedroom.”

  She frowned and pulled him to the front of the couch. “We’re supposed to be watching the game.”

  Will had forgotten there even was a game the second he’d laid eyes on her, and he hoped this wasn’t some kind of twisted revenge plot she’d come up with to punish him for having hockey on her television. Sitting through a game in his current condition could be harmful to his health.

  But then she yanked his open jeans down, taking his boxer briefs with them, and gave him a little shove. Since his pants were around his knees, he didn’t have a lot of choice but to fall onto the couch cushion.

  It only took her a few seconds to pull the clothes off of his legs and toss them aside. Then she bent over and ran her hands up his thighs. His knees spread wider without any conscious thought on his part, and she settled between them.

  “Now you can watch the game,” she teased.

  Yet he wasn’t watching anything but Kristen as she wrapped her hand around his dick and stroked the length with a firm grip. Her tongue flicked over her bottom lip, and he stared at her mouth as she lowered it so excruciatingly slowly that he felt himself straining upward to meet her.

  He closed his eyes as her lips surrounded him, and as she took in his length, he knew there wasn’t an algebraic equation ever written that could distract him from the wet heat of her mouth. Savoring the moment and making it last was out of the question.

  Opening his eyes, he pushed her hair back from her face so he could watch as her mouth moved up and down his shaft, her tongue flicking over the tip in between each stroke. He whispered her name and then groaned when she wrapped her hand around the base of his dick, squeezing as her lips slid down to meet her fingers over and over, each time a little faster.

  His hips bucked when he came, and she held him with one hand against his thigh as she swallowed, stroking him softly until the tremors passed and he let his head fall against the cushion.

  When she stood, he shifted to his side and hauled her down to cuddle against him. It was slightly awkward, since he was wearing a shirt and no pants, but he just wanted to hold her for a few minutes.

  But then she made a satisfied sound and ran her hand down the arm he’d flung across her before lacing their fingers together, and suddenly he didn’t care that he wasn’t wearing pants.

  He was going to hold Kristen for as long as she’d let him.

  10

  “I swear this place gets louder every time we come here.” Annie frowned in the direction of the three women screeching with laughter. “Or I’m getting old and cranky. Am I old and cranky, Kristen?”

  “We’re the same age, and we are absolutely not getting old. But you’ve always been cranky.”

  “True.”

  They’d been coming to this very trendy and upscale bar once every two or three months because it gave them a chance to really dress up. And also because the dirty martinis were fabulous and the patrons were slightly less handsy than at other places they visited. And Kristen had never invited Annie to Firewall with her because, even though she was a good friend, they worked together, and it was Kristen’s work-free happy place.

  And now it would always be the place she’d met Will, she realized when thinking of Firewall automatically triggered an image of him in his gray Henley, head bent over his phone to read about Abigail Adams.

  She should have gone to his game.

  He hadn’t outright asked her. And he hadn’t pushed back when he brought it up and she changed the subject. But wouldn’t that be the only reason he brought it up at all? It wasn’t as if they spent their time together sitting around and talking hockey.

  And Annie would have understood if she’d rescheduled this girls’ night out. Hell, she probably would have been thrilled since she was always telling Kristen she should get out there and date. Really date, and not just scratch the itch occasionally.

  But sitting at a Skimmers game, knowing the camera would eventually find her and her face would be on the Jumbotron, wasn’t high on the list of things she wanted to do. Once the crowd knew she was there, there would be whispers and people in the rows in front of her taking weird-angle selfies as if she wouldn’t notice they were really trying to sneak a picture of Erik Burke’s sister cheering on Cross Lecroix.

  No thank you.

  But it was a big deal to him, coming back after an injury the way he was. And without his team, in a hostile city. She should have been the friendly face in the crowd for him.

  A dirty martini later, Will was still on her mind. She couldn’t shake the feeling in the pit of her stomach that she was doing the wrong thing right now.

  “What’s the matter with you tonight? You’re so tense, I’m afraid somebody’s going to bump into you and you’re just going to break into pieces.”

  “Nothing. Just…work and stuff.”

  “I work with you, so I know all about that, and I also know it doesn’t make you like this. Stressed and pissed off? Yes. But you’re wound extra tight tonight. Is it the hockey player everybody’s been talking about?”

  “Yes and no, I guess.”

  “Yeah, I’m going to need one more drink and a lot more detail.”

  Kristen had no problem with another round of cocktails, but the details were going to be a problem. Annie was the closest thing she’d ever had to a best friend, even though they’d only known each other for a couple of years, but the truth of her relationship with Will was such a secret, he couldn’t even tell his parents.
It wouldn’t be right for her to confide in Annie, no matter how much she wanted to.

  But she could tell part of it.

  “I didn’t know he was a hockey player when we met,” she said. “You know how I feel about hockey.”

  “Oh, that kind of sucks. What did he tell you he did?”

  “He didn’t lie or anything. I told him I didn’t care what he did, if you know what I mean. The relationship wasn’t supposed to go that deep.”

  “Obviously it went a little bit deep, since you not only know what he does, but you’re dating now.”

  “A little bit deep,” she muttered. “I guess you could say that.”

  “So, are you breaking up with him?”

  Eventually. That was the plan, though it was weird how she was already having trouble picturing herself day-to-day without him. He hadn’t been in her life very long, but he seemed to fill it up somehow, and she knew it was going to feel very empty when he left.

  “No, I just…the hockey’s a problem for me.” After taking a sip of the fresh cocktail the server set in front of her, Kristen met Annie’s gaze. “He’s playing tonight. Right now. He mentioned it because it’s his first game since his injury, and I was afraid he was going to ask me outright to go, so I changed the subject.”

  “Ouch.” Annie winced. “You know I’m totally Team Kristen, but that had to get under his skin a bit. It would probably mean a lot to have his girlfriend cheering him on at his game, you know?”

  There was no way to push back against the girlfriend designation without telling more than she should, so Kristen shrugged. “He knows about my family. He knows how I feel about the game.”

  “Maybe he thought you’d care more about him than you do about not liking hockey.”

  Ouch. That hurt a little. “Have I ever told you martinis make you mean?”

  “No, but I’ve been told they make me honest,” Annie said, winking at Kristen over the rim of her martini glass.

  “I shouldn’t be here,” Kristen admitted. “I should have gone to the stupid game.”

  “If we leave right now, can you still make it? Do the ride-share apps let you pick the fastest driver?”

  “No, they don’t. But if you’re okay with it, I’m going to go. Even if I miss the end of the game, I’ll get there before he leaves the locker room. I can at least be there when it’s over.”

  “Call for a car, and I’ll get the bill,” Annie said. “You can totally make it.”

  Once she was in the backseat of an Uber, she realized how ridiculous she was going to look walking into a hockey arena. Little black dress. Black heels. A long black coat that wasn’t really warm enough for the weather but looked good on her. She would definitely stand out in the crowd.

  She’d just dodge the camera people and hope her face didn’t show up on the big screen.

  Will was the last guy left in the locker room, and he soaked in the blessed silence. He liked being alone after the chaos and noise of a game, to the point it was not only something of a post-game ritual, but also pretty widely known, so the other guys didn’t linger. Between being called back out on the ice so often to be honored as a highlight player and then the press questions, by the time Will went in the locker room, a lot of others were already on their way out.

  He sat on the bench, working up the energy to take a shower. The aches and pains were already making themselves known, though he was gratified they were just the normal twinges and sore spots that came with the sport. His shoulder seemed solid, and as long as he kept following the instructions he’d been given for taking a little extra care with it, he felt pretty confident it wouldn’t be an issue in the future.

  Of course, one of the instructions was to stop dropping gloves with Erik Burke, and he wasn’t sure how that one was going to go. Especially the first time they met on the ice after he returned to Baltimore and Kristen wasn’t between them to calm them down.

  The locker room door swung open, but he didn’t bother looking up. Probably one of the guys forgot something in a locker, or it was somebody from the equipment crew. But the sharp staccato sound of high heels on a tile floor got his attention, and he looked up to see Kristen walking toward him in a sleeveless black dress that hugged her curves so sweetly, his mouth watered. A long black coat was slung over her arm, and he really hoped she’d been wearing that wherever she was before here.

  “Hey,” she said, walking so close to him, she ended up straddling one leg, a heel on either side of the skate he hadn’t bothered taking off yet.

  He put his hands on her legs, getting turned on again by the way his fingertips made dents in her thighs, before he looked up at her face. Well, at how fantastic her breasts looked in the deep V-neck dress and then at her face. “How did you get in here?”

  “I’m Erik Burke’s sister. Usually it’s a giant pain in the ass, but it has perks in the hockey world.” She shrugged. “I was just hanging around, waiting for you to come out, but the last guy that came out recognized me and said you were alone in here and that nobody would bother us. He winked, so there’s a good chance within ten minutes, everybody involved with the Skimmers who has a phone will think we’re having sex in the locker room.”

  He chuckled. “It all adds to the legend.”

  “Yeah, well we can stay in here for whatever amount of time protects the great Cross Lecroix legacy, but we’re not actually having sex in here. My vagina wants nothing to do with being exposed in a hockey locker room.”

  “Good call, though it’s still a shame. You look amazing.” He twisted his torso, hoping his back wouldn’t stiffen too much. “Do me a favor, though, and keep your expectations for tonight low. The guys seem to get younger and faster every year, and I’m beat.”

  “Pretty sure I saw you knock one of those young kids on his ass.”

  He grinned. “There’s something to be said for experience.”

  “How did your shoulder hold up?”

  “It’s good.” It was ready for a strong stream of very hot water, but it was good. He rolled his head slowly, to stretch his neck, and his gaze caught on the way her feet looked so small and sexy compared to his big skates. “So, can you skate? You’ve never said if you learned to skate when your brother did.”

  “Of course I can skate. Who do you think was between the pipes while my dad was teaching Erik to take a hit?” She laughed as she glanced down at herself. “But I’m not going to prove it tonight, since I’m not exactly dressed for skating.”

  He reached out with one hand, wanting to feel her hair wrapped around his fingers. “Another time.”

  “Even if you pull my hair, there’s no locker room banging. I ninety percent mean that.” He tugged just enough to pull her head back so he could nip at the soft skin under her jaw. “Seriously, I eighty percent mean it.”

  “Oh, I’m going to take you home,” he promised. “But what brings you into the locker room in this sexy dress with those curves and those legs and the heels?”

  “I was out with a girlfriend. Every couple of months we splurge and go to this really trendy, upscale place that makes the best dirty martinis, and to make it extra fun, we dress up.” She cupped the side of his face in her hand. “But I should have been here tonight and I felt shitty about it. I grabbed a Lyft and got here in time to see the last few minutes, and then I figured I might as well wait for you. And wait, and wait.”

  “It’s kind of my thing. I like to decompress and let all the adrenaline and emotions of the game and shit work through my system before I shower and head out.” Her brow furrowed as she looked at him thoughtfully, so he shrugged. “Every guy has his own thing. Some guys want to dissect every second on the ice. Some want to leave it behind until it’s time to focus on it again.”

  She nodded. “The Burkes don’t leave anything behind. My dad and Erik are pretty intense guys.”

  “I’ve heard that about them.” He skimmed his hands up the back of her thighs and then under her dress to cup her ass. “You’re pretty intense yoursel
f.”

  “Okay, Lecroix. Hit the shower so we can get out of here. I’ll wait in the hall.” She stepped backward, as if to move out of his reach, but he snagged her hand.

  “I won’t be long.” He leaned in to kiss her, doing his best to keep from brushing his body against her dress. “And for the record, I didn’t expect you to come tonight because I know how you feel about hockey, so don’t feel shitty about going out instead.”

  She smiled and kissed him again before walking out of the locker room, so he didn’t regret saying it, even if it wasn’t totally the truth. He didn’t want her to feel shitty about skipping the game, so that part was true. But it would have been cool to have her there—to have known she was in the crowd cheering for him.

  Earlier in the night, he’d told himself it was a good thing she’d opted out. It was a good reminder that all of this was temporary and it didn’t matter if she was willing to sit through a hockey game or not because when he left Boston behind, he’d be leaving her behind, too.

  And that thought had done absolutely nothing to cheer him up.

  11

  One of Kristen’s least favorite times of day was the fifteen minutes or so she spent in Stan’s office every morning, reviewing anything outstanding from the day before and strategizing current tasks and appointments.

  When there was a closed door between them, she was usually able to shove her personal dislike of the man to the back of her mind and focus on the work. But when she was sitting across from him, with nothing but his pretentious walnut desk between them, it was a lot harder to ignore him.

  “One more thing,” he said when she closed her notebook and started to get up.

  “Okay.” She lowered herself into the chair again, wondering if he was finally going to give her the promotion. If, finally, he was going to acknowledge that she worked her ass off for him and show some gratitude.

  That wasn’t likely, she knew, but she didn’t need the words. She just wanted the promotion. Not only was it time, but it was long past due.