The Shots On Goal Series Box Set

by Kristen Hope Mazzola

  I started to pace around my room, trying to level myself out. I knew my brother was trying to do the right thing and protect me, but protecting me from my own father—that was a little more than I could handle. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.” I seethed as I heard a horn blare from outside my window. “I won’t be home until late. Sleep off that whiskey, Bray. You smell like you brought the bar home with you.”

  Grabbing my purse and shoving my lip gloss in, I leaned over and kissed my big brother on the cheek. He whispered, “Love ya,” then fell back on my bed and immediately started snoring.

  Fucking perfect.

  “Myla, oh thank God! You came and you look fabulous!” Practically singing, Simon grabbed my hand and twirled me around a few times before he took me into his arms. “Come, I have tons of people to introduce you to.”

  The club was bustling with wall-to-wall people dancing, laughing, and drinking. Everyone kept grabbing Simon to try to get him to dance, chat, or do shots with them. It was my first time in an actual night club, and the bright flashing lights, the loud pounding bass, and the exorbitant number of people grinding on each other was all a lot to take in while being whisked around by my arm and shaking hands with everyone we passed.

  “Adam!” Simon screamed over to a tall ginger that was getting a cocktail from the bar. His light gray button-down clung to his arms, shoulders, and chest, his face was lightly dusted with freckles, his long, dark red hair was pulled back into a bun, and he had a thick well-kept beard surrounding a gorgeous, toothy grin. I stopped dead. This guy was one of the most handsome men I had ever seen. I mean come on, a mun? Yes, please.

  “Simon, how are you?” They shook hands before Simon led the tall drink of water over to me.

  “This is one of my dearest friends, Myla. Adam was one of my students when he was in high school.”

  Adam turned a thousand shades of red as he took my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “So, you’re a figure skater?” We took seats at the bar. I looked around for Simon but he had gotten lost in the crowd of guests.

  Adam shook his head. “I tried it out when I broke my wrist pretty badly playing varsity hockey. How do you know Simon?”

  “I’m one of his assistant coaches.”

  He waved over to the bartender. “What’re you drinking, Myla?”

  I blushed a little. “Just water, thanks.”

  The bartender handed me a plastic cup with a lemon on the rim.

  “Not drinking tonight?” He smiled, drinking from his martini glass. He looked so sophisticated and I felt like a little girl—cue nervousness and extreme awkwardness.

  I giggled a little, trying to mask my nerves. “I don’t really drink.”

  “Ah. You’re one of those types of athletes.” I strained to ignore the condescending undertone of the statement, but it got the better of me.

  “What do you mean one of those?” I was trying to play coy; I had never flirted with an older guy before. With all the skating practice I did during high school, there was no room for flirting, or dating at all. The longest relationship I’d ever had had only consisted of about two months of barely communicating through texts, two dinner-and-a-movie dates, and one failure of a sexual encounter—super lame.

  “It’s a good thing you’re that disciplined to not drink. You’re probably in great shape.” His eyes traveled down my bare legs and back up to my cleavage. In seconds, I felt completely exposed.

  “I guess you could say that. I’ve actually never had a drink in my life.”

  Adam nearly choked. Coughing and grabbing his chest, he exclaimed, “What?”

  I shook my head, smiling. “Nope, never touched a drop. My brother drinks enough for the both of us, to be honest. I’ve never even been interested in it.”

  “So how does a nice girl like you wind up working for a crazy-ass like Simon?” Adam waved to the bartender for another drink. “Perfect gin martini stirred with the dirty ice back, please.”

  His drink sounded so refined and he was freaking dreamy—and probably way out of my league. I guessed he was at least in his mid-twenties and the Rolex he kept flicking on his wrist was just the right amount of flashy. Brayden would refer to him as a pompous-ass motherfucker, but there was something so James Bond about Adam without being completely clean cut and falling into the tall, dark, and handsome category. He had the tall and handsome part nailed down, and his long red hair and beard were extremely sexy to me.

  “I was a figure skater until I was in a car accident. You know the saying Those who can’t do, teach? Well that’s me to a T at this point.”

  His warm hand landed on my leg, making shivers shoot up my spine.

  Is this guy being too forward?

  Is this fucking normal?

  Act cool.

  Don’t let your age show.

  “Myla!” Simon scream-slurred in my ear. Adam removed his hand, smiling at our friend as Simon hooked an arm around each of our necks. “I’m just so glad you two are hitting it off. I knew you would. I just freaking knew it!”

  “You always know best, Coach.” Adam winked at me.

  “Simon says!” Simon yelled at the top of his lungs before leaning on the bar to bark his drink order at the bartender.

  “Is he always like this when he’s out?”

  Adam pursed his lips together. “Honestly, I wouldn’t know. This is my first time out with him since I moved back to the city.”

  “Oh, when was that?”

  “A few weeks ago. My company just absorbed another right here in Manhattan and when the board members suggested the move, I couldn’t turn it down.”

  “So what is it that you do?” I rested my elbow down onto the bar top, right into something extremely sticky. It icked me out to no end but I kept a straight face, sliding my arm back and trying to wipe it off without drawing attention to myself.

  Goodness, you’re such a mess!

  Luckily, Adam was too into telling me about himself to notice my embarrassing situation. “In college I started an insurance software company, just trying to make ends meet while I was supporting myself through school. Turns out, there is a lot more money in that than I could have even hoped. I’m lucky to say I have done pretty well for myself and since then, I have always been my own boss.”

  “That’s incredible.” What was an accomplished business mogul doing in a bar talking to a nobody like me?

  “Eh, it has its moments. It’s not the most interesting job in the world, but running my own company is something I have always wanted to do. What are your dreams, Myla?”

  I wanted to say so many other things than what came out of my mouth. I wanted to say that I wished I had been able to go to the Olympics, that I wanted to be a professional figure skater, that I never imagined being washed up before my nineteenth birthday, but all that came out was, “I’ll let you know when I figure out what they are.”

  “Sounds good to me. So do you mind if I ask how old you are?”

  “Isn’t that very ungentlemanly of you?” Deflection—perfect.

  He chuckled a little. “I guess you’re right. My apologies, my lady.” He bowed his head and I burst out laughing.

  “I’m twenty. And you are?”

  His face never wavered. Hopefully my age wasn’t going to be a problem for him. “I am twenty-six.”

  “Does my age bother you?” I was so inexperienced compared to him in just the simple game of life. He’d been to college, started a company, made a crap-load of money before his twenty-fifth birthday, and I was barely seeing the outside of a skating rink for most of my life.

  His hand traveled up to touch my shoulder as he shook his head. “No. Should it?”

  “Not in the slightest.”

  The tiny, playful smirk that landed on his lips was so damn enthralling. “Good.”

  “It’s getting late. I should probably call it a night.”

  He pulled out his wallet, taking a business card out and folding it into my hand. “
When can I see you again?”

  I put his card into my clutch, smiling. “Sometime?” I think I am getting the hang of this flirting thing.

  “Well, why don’t you write your number down and let me call you soon so we can figure something out.”

  I scribbled my number onto a bar napkin for Adam. “Sorry, I’m not important enough to have business cards.”

  Putting the napkin in his wallet, he laughed a little. “I’ll be the judge of how important you are, and having business cards is totally overrated. I’d much rather see your handwriting on a bar napkin; it’s one of a kind, not a dime a dozen.”

  Chapter 8

  Gavin

  Slam. I threw her hard against the wall, pressing my chest against hers, knotting my fingers into her messy hair.

  She tasted like white zinfandel and cigarettes, two of the most loathsome tastes in the entire world, but she was hot.

  She’d do for one night.

  Pulling her leg over my hip, I ran my fingers up her tight skirt, finding her lack of underwear hilarious.

  Bar slut.

  I knew I needed to stop this one-night stand crap, knew I craved companionship, but during the season, with my hectic schedule and being on the road so much, dating was not in the cards.

  I kissed her perfume-covered neck. Fuck. Chanel No. 5—the same shit Marsheila used to wear. There I was trying to fight through the memories when all I wanted was to just get a nut off and pass out. Is that too much to fucking ask for? It had been over two years since I was left at that altar and she was still plaguing my mind.

  What in the ever-loving fuck?

  Get a goddamned grip.

  She moaned. “I can’t believe I am at Gavin Hayes’ apartment.”

  “Believe it sweetheart, this is going to be a night you will never forget.”

  In the dim light of the apartment, I could barely make out her skin tone or actual hair color, but who the hell cares about that shit when it really comes down to it? I was a firm believer that having a type when it came to women totally stacked the deck in the wrong favor.

  Fuck it.

  I threw her over my shoulder, arm hooked right under her tiny ass cheeks. What was her name? Kayla, I think her name was Kayla, or was that the brunette I was talking to at the beginning of the night? Damn it. The manhattans were starting to play games with my memory already.

  Giggling, her breathy voice came from behind me. “Where are we going?”

  “The shower,” I stated sharply as I rounded the corner into the master bathroom.

  She wiggled a little in my arms. “But, wait! I don’t want to get my hair wet.” The whine that laced her tone was fucking annoying. I’m going to have to fill that hole fast so she shuts the fuck up.

  “Quite frankly, my dear, I don’t give a flying rat’s fucking ass.”

  Setting her down on the bathroom sink, I made quick work of unzipping her tight skirt and yanking her lacey blouse over her head.

  I nipped at her neck. Yup. We need to get rid of that stench.

  Getting down to my boxers, I turned on the shower.

  “Seriously, Gavin. I don’t want to get my hair wet.” She was still on the granite counter, swinging her legs like a damn teenager.

  I pulled open my medicine cabinet, flicking a hair tie at her. “Then pull it up and I’ll stand in the water, babe.”

  She chewed on her lip as I took in her features. Long tan legs, long dirty blonde hair, a decent face, a sweet smile, ice blue eyes—she was decently cute. I had done better, but I sure as shit had done way worse. She was skinnier than I usually went for, almost anorexic-looking skinny, not the in shape, athletic, toned women I typically wanted. I had to work out hard, and I liked when my chick could understand that.

  I slipped off my boxers and watched her eyes dart to my junk. Why do girls always have to check it out? Don’t they understand the phrase a grower not a shower?

  She bit her bottom lip. “I want it.”

  A quick wink was all I could muster. I was totally half-assing that shit; usually I would have been rock hard already, but my mind was just not in the game at all. “Then get your cute ass into this shower.”

  I opened the door and walked in. The warm water felt amazing; there was something so peaceful about washing the day away.

  “Do you want to know my name?” she asked as she sheepishly shuffled into the far side of the massive shower.

  Fuck. Please be right.

  “Kayla, right?”

  Her face lit the fuck up like the fourth of July. “I didn’t think you would remember.”

  I brushed her shoulders softly, pouring a little bit of water over the areas where I smelled that awful perfume. “How could I forget the name of someone so pretty? I’m not a complete ass.”

  Kayla giggled, an annoying, high-pitched schoolgirl giggle that made my skin crawl. “That’s not what your reputation says, but I like surprises.”

  I wanted to bark at her, tell her I’d show her how big of an ass I could really be, but my actions were going to scream way louder than words ever could.

  The beast in me came out. Plain and simple, I was primal.

  Pushing her body against the cold tiled wall with one hand, I started to stroke my growing cock with the other. “You want this?”

  Her little doe eyes batted while she nodded.

  “Then take it.” My hand on her shoulder forced her to kneel. I slapped the tip onto her lips. “Open.”

  Water started to spray off my body onto hers as she opened her mouth wide enough for me to enter. Grabbing her messy bun, I thrust deep into the back of her throat. Listening to her cough was more invigorating than it should have been.

  Pulling her mouth away, Kayla looked up at me. “Let me do it.”

  I smiled, waiting a second as she gently licked the head of my dick. “No. Now open up like a good little slut or I am going to make you wish you had listened to me the first time.”

  Her lips parted while I read the apprehension across her face. If she didn’t want to play the game, she shouldn’t have gotten in the cab.

  It was so frustrating taking a chick home that didn’t actually know how to suck a guy off. I mean how hard could it really be? I wasn’t really the teaching type, but I was going to get off somehow, and face-fucking was the way it needed to happen that night.

  Gripping her hair again, I thrust in a little gentler than before. “Just keep that mouth open and I will take care of the rest.” Her eyes locked with mine as tears started to form at the corners. “Squeeze my leg if gets to be too much for you.”

  I knew that even if I was hurting her, it was going to take a lot for her to tap out after I had put her in her place. I let my mind trip through some of the better fucks I had had recently and felt my dick start to twitch. Pulling out, I started to stroke my cock, letting hot come pepper her reddened cheeks and spread over her tits.

  Grabbing the washcloth from behind me, I wiped her off as she started to get back onto her feet.

  Her red nails glided down my abs as she traced the O in the Ominous tattoo right over my boxer line. “My turn.”

  I tilted my head to the side, smirking while I fought the laughter that was about to spew out of my mouth. “Oh no, honey. It’s time for you to get the heck out of my place.”

  Chapter 9

  Myla

  Bang.

  Bang.

  Bang.

  In a sleepy daze, I barely realized that someone was knocking on my bedroom door.

  “Myla?” Brayden yelled through the thick wooden door. “Myla, get up and get dressed, I have a surprise for you.”

  Squinting, I could barely make out the blaring red numbers on my alarm clock. “Bray, go back to bed, it’s eight in the morning on a Saturday. Fucking enjoy the day off for once in your life.”

  The clicking of him picking my lock with a bobby pin got my ass to shoot right out of bed. “Fine. I’m up. Don’t break my lock.”

  I flung the door open to find my
brother completely dressed and holding my favorite sweater, waiting for me. “Hurry up, sis. We have to get a move on.”

  I went into my closet, shutting the door to get dressed. Yanking on a pair of jeans and almost busting my ass from getting my toes stuck in one of the rips, I couldn’t help but be a little excited. It had been forever since my brother and I had spent more than a few hours together and usually it was over a rushed meal or on the rare occasion that Brayden had a little down time between practices. With opening day right around the corner, it was hard to believe he wasn’t at the rink working on his skating speed.

  “So what are we doing?” I pulled a tank top on and threw my hair into a bun. “Do I need makeup?”

  Brayden was sitting on my bed, checking his phone. “No, you’re fine just the way you are. It’s going to be so pretty out today. You’re going to love this.” His face was all lit up, scrolling through something on his screen.

  “So do I even get a clue as to what you’re about to get me into?”

  He gave me a quick wink before jumping to his feet. “Nope.”

  Training into the city was one of my favorite things to do in the fall. The leaves were golden red and the temperature holding in the mid-sixties was perfect.

  “We’re going to Central Park, aren’t we?” I nudged Brayden, who was dazed and staring out the window.

  “I told you this is all going to be a surprise, My. Can’t you just let this be exciting and let me do something nice for my sister?”

  Once we got off at Penn Station, we started walking right for the park. “I knew it!” I hooked my arm with my brother’s and practically skipped the entire way.

  “We’re just about there.”

  I could hear dogs barking, which wasn’t completely out of the ordinary for Central Park on a Saturday, but this was more than normal for sure. Rounding the corner, I could see tons of tents bustling with people walking around with puppies on leashes, in cages, and in little playpens all over.

  “What is this?” The octave of excitement my voice reached was probably only audible for the dogs.