She shivered, goose bumps racing across her skin.
The way he was staring at her told her he liked what he saw, although she couldn’t be completely sure from this distance.
Pulse skipping, she took a sip of her beer, then slowly licked the foam off her upper lip.
Reid’s eyes seemed to narrow.
Smiling, she raised her glass to him.
She thought he winked at her before he turned away and resumed watching the game.
When he’d done his time in the penalty box, he donned his helmet and gloves, then nimbly hopped over the boards to rejoin the action on the ice.
Soon he was back in the mix, wresting control of the puck and snapping it to his teammate. The right wing—or was it left?—took a shot at the net, but Minnesota’s goaltender blocked the attempt.
Reid was nearby, battling for position with the opposing winger. When he saw the puck coming toward them, he lifted his stick and skillfully deflected the puck into the net.
As the red light above the goal flashed on, the crowd went berserk. Nadia jumped to her feet with everyone else, cheering and clapping as exploding rockets flashed across the Jumbotron and Reid skated backward playing air guitar. The fans ate it up, chanting “Rocket, Rocket, Rocket” as he celebrated the goal with his teammates.
Nadia’s heart was pounding, adrenaline flooding her veins. She was almost relieved when the first period ended. She needed to catch her breath after such an exhilarating opening.
As the teams headed to their respective locker rooms at intermission, the Rebels were up 2-1.
Jess turned to Nadia, her eyes bright with excitement. “That was hella intense. Whew.”
Nadia grinned. “Tell me about it. Hockey definitely isn’t for the faint of heart.”
“No, it isn’t,” Nelson agreed, sitting on her other side. He affectionately tweaked her nose. “Having fun?”
“I am, actually.”
“I knew you would.” He grinned. “And don’t think I missed those flirty little exchanges between you and Reid.”
Nadia blinked innocently at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, right.” He laughed and stood, dropping his reporter’s notebook on his seat. “Bianca and I are going for a snack run. Either of you want another beer?”
“I’ll have one,” Jess said.
“Gotcha. Nadia?”
“I’m good.” She was already buzzed from her first glass of beer. She didn’t want to risk having another one when she still had to make her way out of the arena in her spiky heels.
As Nelson and Bianca set off together, he put his arm protectively around her waist, guiding her up the steps and through the tunnel leading to the upper-level concession stands.
Watching them go, Jess said, “I see those two are still going strong.”
“They are.” Nadia smiled warmly. “Bianca makes Nelson so happy. I love her for that.”
“Your brother’s a really sweet guy. She’s lucky he’s not shallow.”
“What do you mean?”
Jess shrugged. “Bianca’s pretty, but she could stand to lose about thirty pounds.”
Nadia shook her head. “I think she’s beautiful the way she is. And so does Nelson.”
“That’s why she’s lucky to have him,” Jess countered. “Plenty of women would consider Nelson a good catch. I mean, he might not make a lot of money, but he’s smart, attractive, keeps himself in shape and has a great sense of humor.” Her eyes twinkled. “With him being a reporter and wearing those glasses, he’s got a certain Clark Kent-ish sex appeal.”
Nadia wrinkled her nose. “Please don’t mention ‘Nelson’ and ‘sex appeal’ in the same breath. Ew.”
Jess smiled. “He’s your brother, so you don’t see him the way other women do.”
Something in her voice had Nadia’s eyes narrowing in speculation.
But Jess had turned away to observe a group of giggling puck bunnies seated in the first row. All were young and pretty with long straight hair and curvy bodies squeezed into short bandage dresses.
Bandage dresses. In an ice rink.
Ridiculous, Nadia thought somewhat cattily. At least her fuck-me dress had long sleeves and reached her knees.
When the hockey groupies appeared on the Jumbotron, they burst into high-pitched squeals and waved excitedly at the huge screen. Appreciative wolf whistles and cheers swept through the arena. When Cobra Starship’s “Good Girls Go Bad” began blaring over the sound system, the puck bunnies jumped to their feet and started dancing like drunk sorority girls at a keg party. The men in the crowd went crazy.
Jess gave Nadia a meaningful look. “This is what I was talking about earlier,” she said, raising her voice to be heard over the loud music. “Those are the types of chicks who go home with the athletes. Some of them even manage to get wifed up.”
Nadia rolled her eyes and yelled back, “If I have to dress and behave like a trampy airhead to get wifed up, I’ll pass.”
Jess grinned. “Don’t knock the hustle till you’ve tried it.”
Nadia smirked. “More pearls of wisdom from your aunt Sheridan?”
“Hey, the philosophy obviously worked for her since she married a wealthy man. So did her daughter.” Jess paused. “Of course, Caitlyn ended up getting divorced. Twice. Then she lost custody of her daughter. And now she’s living alone in Atlanta, pathetically pining after her childhood crush who’s happily married to some famous violinist.”
“Ah, yes, the cautionary tale of your cousin Caitlyn.” Nadia sighed dramatically. “Poor woman.”
“Poor woman?” Jess snorted. “Cait’s always been a raging bitch. It was only a matter of time before karma caught up to her.”
Nadia chuckled. “Well, I think the moral of the story is ‘Marry for love, not money.’”
Jess laughed. “If you say so!”
The rest of the game was just as thrilling as the first period. Thankfully, when the final buzzer sounded at the end, the Rebels had won 4-2.
The noise inside the arena was deafening as the ecstatic fans celebrated what they hoped was the first of many wins that season.
The players skated off the ice and headed down the tunnel to the locker room, high fiving fans on their way out. Reid had pulled strings so that security would allow Nadia, Bianca and Jess to accompany Nelson when he went to interview the team for his column.
Nadia would have preferred to head straight home after the game, but she knew it would be rude to leave without congratulating Reid and thanking him for the extravagant Chanel purses. The prospect of being near him again filled her with nervous excitement as she followed the others through the crowd.
The hallway to the locker room was thronged with reporters, cameramen and some of the players’ wives. There were also a number of half-dressed puck bunnies who’d flirted and sweet-talked their way past security. The two groups—missuses and wannabes—huddled together on opposite sides of the corridor.
As Nadia, Bianca and Jess waited for Nelson to emerge from the locker room, the other women eyed them curiously, sizing them up. Their unabashed appraisal made Nadia feel conspicuous in her tight dress and spiky boots. She suddenly wished she hadn’t allowed herself to be coerced into wearing the sexy getup. If only she could be as unselfconscious as Jess, who looked smoking hot in a little red dress that showed off her cleavage and curves.
Bianca leaned toward Nadia and Jess and said in a stage whisper, “I don’t think we belong down here.”
“Why not?” Jess whispered back.
“Look around. We’re the only black women.”
Jess snickered. “Well, technically, since my mother’s white, I half belong.”
Bianca laughed. Nadia merely smiled.
Five minutes later, the locker room door opened.
When Nadia looked up and saw Reid standing in the doorway, her mouth went dry and all the air left her lungs.
He had a white towel draped around his neck. His dark hair was slicked back, g
listening and damp from the shower. He was barefoot, clad in dark suit pants and a white wifebeater that revealed bulging, muscular biceps decorated with tattoos.
Confronted with all that potent male hotness, Nadia could only stand there and stare.
Beside her, Jess was slack jawed and practically salivating while Bianca gave a purr of feminine appreciation.
When the puck bunnies saw Reid, they squealed like groupies at a rock concert. They would have rushed the locker room door if two beefy security guards hadn’t stood in their way.
Reid looked down the hall, his eyes locking onto Nadia’s.
Come here, he mouthed.
Her heart hammered drunkenly in her chest. She must have hesitated too long because someone—Jess or Bianca—nudged her forward. As she started down the hallway toward Reid, she could literally hear a pin drop as the other women gaped at her.
Reid watched her approach, his gaze roving over her body. The blatant masculine appreciation in his eyes tightened her nipples and heated the flesh between her thighs.
When she reached him, he gave her a smile so sexy her brain stalled out. “Hey, beautiful.”
“Hey.” She had to remember to breathe. “That was a great game. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” His eyes roamed her face. Even in her spiked heels, he was still several inches taller than her. “I’m glad you came.”
“Me too.” She smiled shyly, indicating the black leather purse hooked over her shoulder. “Thanks for your generous gift.”
“You’re welcome.” He fingered the gold strap, making her pulse race. “It looks good on you.”
“You think so?”
“Absolutely.”
A shiver of pleasure worked its way down her spine.
From the locker room behind him, she could hear the sounds of loud music, running showers and raucous male laughter as the players joked with reporters and snapped towels at one another’s asses. One of Reid’s teammates sauntered past in the background, a blur of disheveled blond hair and tanned muscled flesh. He called Reid’s name and cracked a joke that Nadia couldn’t make out above the noise.
Reid laughed over his shoulder and shot back, “Shut the fuck up.” He turned back to Nadia with a sheepish expression. “Pardon my French.”
She gave him a look of wry amusement. “I’ve heard worse.”
He smiled, his eyes doing another slow sweep of her body. “You look amazing, Nadia. Sexy as hell.”
Her stomach did a crazy roll. “Thank you.”
That sexy thing went both ways, she thought, staring at the way his undershirt molded the defined muscles of his chest and rock-hard stomach. He had a bruise on his cheek, which only magnified his rugged appeal.
Her nipples peaked to attention when he leaned forward, moving into her space. She could smell the soap on his warm skin, smell the tangy spice of his aftershave. The yummy combination made her mouth water.
“So, listen,” he said casually, “we’re having a post-game party at a club downtown. Wanna come?”
She hesitated, biting her bottom lip. The thought of partying with a bunch of drunk hockey players and fawning puck bunnies didn’t hold much appeal.
“Thanks for the invitation, but—”
“It’s not really your thing.”
Her smile was rueful. “Not really.”
His eyes gleamed. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you to have dinner with me.”
A rush of excitement tightened her chest. She tried to tamp it down. “We can’t have dinner tonight.”
“Why not?”
“You just won the first game of the season. You should be celebrating with your teammates.”
“We hang out all the time.”
“Well, yeah, but—”
His gaze darkened. “I wanna spend the evening with you, Nadia. No one else. You.”
She stared into his eyes, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart, the staccato beat of her pulse. Against her better judgment, she wanted to be with this man. Wanted to soak up every second she could with him.
She moistened her lips and nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Reid looked hopeful. “Okay what?”
“I’ll have dinner with you.”
He smiled, immensely pleased. “I know the perfect place.”
She sighed. “Wherever we go, you’re going to be mobbed by fans.”
“Not where I’m taking you. It’s nice and quiet.” He lifted his hand and touched her hair, his eyes on her mouth. “I’ve been dying to kiss you again.”
She shivered, goose bumps racing across her skin. “Not here,” she whispered, glancing self-consciously over her shoulder.
“Why not?” There was a teasing note in his voice.
“Why not?” she echoed. “Because people are staring at us, and I don’t want to end up in the tabloids.”
“All the reporters are inside the locker room.”
“Doesn’t matter. Everyone has a cell phone these days.” Smiling, she pointed to his bruised cheek. “Does that hurt?”
His eyes glinted with mischief. “If I say yes, will you kiss it and make it better?”
“No,” she said with a laugh. “Nice try though.”
“C’mon.” He leaned down, tapping his cheek with a long finger. “Put those soft, sweet lips right here. Ease my pain and suffering.”
She grinned. “Pain and suffering, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am. Pure agony.”
He was too damn irresistible for his own good.
She leaned up on tiptoe and brought her lips to his face. He lowered his lashes, a smile curving his mouth as she gently kissed his stubble-roughened cheek.
She felt him shiver before she pulled away and smiled. “There. Better?”
“Definitely.” His eyes glittered. “I hope there’s more where that came from.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Greedy much?”
“Insatiable.” He smiled like a sinner. And damn if she didn’t want to lay hands all over him.
“I need to finish getting dressed,” he told her. “Wait for me.”
Her spine tingled with anticipation. “I’ll be here.”
“You’d better be.” He flashed her a grin that was off-the-charts sexy. Then he backed through the door, disappearing into the locker room.
She took a deep breath to calm her runaway pulse, then turned and started down the hallway toward her grinning friends.
The puck bunnies were whispering to one another and glaring at her as she strolled past. She wanted to assure them not to worry. She wasn’t encroaching on their turf, and she had no designs on becoming a hockey wife. She was just having a little fun, scratching an itch with the hottest guy she’d ever met. Once their fling was over, the bunnies could have Reid all to themselves again.
Nadia wanted to say all those things…
…except she wasn’t so sure that a fling was all she wanted anymore.
8
Ten minutes later, Reid emerged from the locker room with one of his teammates—a tall, gorgeous blond with magnetic gray eyes and a stubble-darkened jaw. Reid introduced him as Viggo Sandström, the team’s starting center. Nadia recognized him because he’d scored two of the Rebels’ four points that night. Plus his handsome face was as famous as Reid’s.
He grinned down at her and gallantly kissed her hand. “Pleasure to meet you,” he said, his deep voice tinged with a Swedish accent. Holy crap, he was hot.
Nadia smiled a little dazedly. “Same to you.”
Jess was all but gaping at Viggo. When he shifted his gaze to her and smiled, she looked like she’d swallowed her tongue.
“Hello,” he greeted her.
Before Jess could respond—not that she seemed capable—the puck bunnies suddenly broke free of the security guards and rushed forward, squealing Viggo and Reid’s names.
Not wasting another second, Reid grabbed Nadia’s hand and ushered her out the rear exit to
the parking lot. There was a sleekly powerful silver sports car waiting at the curb. It looked futuristic with butterfly doors that opened upward instead of outward.
As Reid slipped a bill to the grinning security guard who’d brought the car around, Nadia stared at it in fascination. “What is this?”
“An SSC Ultimate Aero.”
“Is it American?”
“But of course.” Reid looked pleased that she’d remembered his rule.
“It’s gorgeous,” she marveled. “It almost looks like a spaceship on wheels.”
“It’s one of the fastest cars in the world,” he said proudly.
She grinned. “Surprise, surprise. A hockey player nicknamed The Rocket drives a supercar.”
He grinned, walking to the passenger side. “I’ll have you know that on most days, I drive a pickup truck. So I’m not that predictable.”
She laughed. “Touché.”
He tweaked her nose. “After you, pretty lady.”
She smiled and slid into the car. The leather seat embraced her like a lover, and the interior was immaculate.
As Reid climbed behind the wheel, she asked playfully, “How fast can this baby go?”
“She has a top speed of two hundred fifty-seven and can go from zero to sixty in 2.78 seconds.”
“Wow,” Nadia breathed.
“She held the world speed record for three years.” His smile turned wry. “That honor now belongs to the Bugatti Veyron.”
“Which, I’m guessing, isn’t American.” Nadia grinned. “Tempted to defect?”
“Nah. This’ll do.” He started the engine.
Nadia gasped as raw power vibrated through her body with the impact of a rocket launch. She looked at Reid and laughed. “You’re right. This will definitely do.”
He grinned.
As they roared away from the curb, she asked, “Which restaurant are we going to?”
“Casa Holden.”
It took her a moment to register his meaning. “You’re taking me to your house?”
“Yes.” He glanced sideways at her. “I wanted us to have some privacy. You don’t mind, do you?”
Her pulse quickened at the thought of spending an evening alone with him at his home. It didn’t get more intimate than that.
Wicked Games (Denver Rebels) Page 9
