by Piper Rayne
She swivels my way. “I didn’t want to seem like I don’t know how to have fun. I didn’t want to be a buzzkill and tell you I hate roller coasters.”
I slide closer to her. “You never have to pretend to be anything but who you are.”
She chews on the inside of her cheek and stares at me for a moment. “I’m not really a ‘live life on the edge’ kind of woman.”
I smile. “I know.”
“You’re going to find out I’m kind of boring.”
God, she’s so fucking adorable. “There’s nothing boring about you.”
“You barely know me.”
“I don’t make a habit of falling for boring women, kotik. That’s why I like your claws.” I link my hand with hers and pull her up off the park bench. “Time for us to go on a train ride.”
We walk through the entrance of the Serengeti Express Train, and I select the back row so no one has a chance to interrupt us. The good thing about coming to the park at this hour is that most families have gone home and the guests here are only interested in the roller coasters and not a boring train ride. The train moves and my thumb runs along her forefinger.
“I’d never have asked you out if I wasn’t interested in you. I want to get to know the real Paisley Pearce, not the Paisley Pearce you think I want you to be.” She stares at the horizon, and I place my finger on her chin to bring her face to mine. “Agreed?”
Her soft brown eyes are so beautiful I could lose myself in them. “Okay.”
“That’s it? That was easy. You’re just going to agree? Doesn’t seem like the Paisley Pearce I’ve gotten to know so far.”
She shrugs and gives me a small smile. “I want to be different. I want to love roller coasters and be that girl who’s secure enough with herself to wear a short dress to a club and dance on a table.”
“Whoa now. Maybe I haven’t mentioned how possessive I can be.”
She laughs, and her curls bounce when she tilts her head. “I’ve always just been the conservative girl.”
“Maybe that’s what I’m into?” I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her toward me.
“No one likes the conservative girl. They like the fun girl.”
I kiss the top of her head. “How about this? You try some things you wouldn’t ordinarily do with me, but you tell me because I only care about knowing the real you. Then we’ll do whatever it is together.”
She tilts her head and looks up at me. I love how everything feels so natural with her. As if we’ve been together forever.
“Thanks,” she says.
I know we’re not anywhere near the end of this issue with her, but I have to get her to understand that she’s the one I want, and I don’t find her the least bit boring.
She raises her arm and her hand wraps around the back of my neck. She leans in until our lips meet.
Damn, she can kiss. I slip my tongue into her mouth, and her moan is enough to make me want to pull her off this train and lay her down on the field we’re rolling past. We keep the kiss short, and I miss her lips the minute they’re off mine.
“Can we ride another roller coaster?” she whispers.
I chuckle. “Why?”
“Because I want to try it again. Now that I can tell you I’m terrified, I think you might help me through it.”
My eyes lock with hers. “Okay, but you tell me when you’ve had enough.”
“Deal.” She smiles and kisses me on the cheek.
After the train ride ends, we file out and get in line for another roller coaster. Paisley’s patient and understanding when it comes to me being recognized. She volunteers to take pictures of me with the fans and even pulls a pen out of her purse when a kid comes up and his dad doesn’t have anything to write with.
We ride three more roller coasters, and she screams so hard I fear she’ll have lung damage. After that, we decide to grab some pizza.
“All right, tell me why pretzel over nachos?”
“Why are you so curious about that?” She bites into her slice. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail now, the last roller coaster having destroyed her curls, according to her. But there’s one strand she missed on the side, and I can’t stop staring at it.
“Because they both have cheese, but one is crispy and one is soft. I think why you chose pretzels might say a lot about you.”
She nods. “Maybe you should’ve gone into psychology.”
We both laugh.
“You’re dodging the question.” I point my piece of pizza at her.
“I find the pretzel comforting, but I do like nachos. I just like nachos that are overfilled with meat, cheese, sour cream, guacamole. All the good stuff. It’s hard to handle that in an arena seat.”
“I’ll have to remember that.”
“Which do you prefer?” she asks.
“I would’ve gotten a hamburger or hot dog. I prefer protein.” I wink.
She giggles, falling back on her stool. “I think that’s supposed to be my line.”
“It would be if we were talking about my meat.”
She laughs harder, and if we weren’t surrounded by so many people, I’d stand up, lean over this table, and kiss the living shit out of her because she’s so damn cute when she’s having fun.
After we finish our pizza, we end up walking through the area filled with carnival games. Every vendor screams at us to try to win a prize.
“Want me to win you a stuffed animal?” I ask her.
“Are you that confident you can win one? You know these games are fixed.”
I lead her toward some of the games, ignoring her judgment of my skills. Isn’t this what happens when you go to an amusement park? Her arms should be filled with prizes when we leave.
We end up at the basketball hoop, and I miss all three times.
Paisley says nothing to make me feel bad about it, but tension creeps into my chest.
Then we go over to the game where you have to throw a dart at a balloon. I pop one balloon, but that’s all. We walk away empty-handed—again.
“Let’s just go on another ride. We could do a water ride?” Paisley suggests.
There’s not a chance we’re leaving here until I win her something. “No, let’s do this bottle cap one.”
I lead her over to where I have to get a ring over a bottle cap. Paisley tries too and she gets more than I do, but neither of us win.
“One of these games is mine,” I say.
She winds her arm through mine. “I don’t need a cheap stuffed animal, Maksim. Let’s go enjoy the rest of our night.”
She’s crazy if she thinks I’m going to give up on this. One thing she needs to know about me—I’m a professional athlete and therefore competitive as hell. “No. There’s got to be one here that I can win.”
Stopping at the rubber ducks, Paisley hands money to the woman and looks at me. “Pick one.”
I give her a small glare that she has such little faith in me. This game is just luck, no skill involved.
“We’re wasting money doing all the games we can’t win,” she says.
I shrug. “I have the money to blow.”
She leans back and her eyes go wide. “Well, Mr. Moneybags, excuse me. Now, pick a duck.”
I grab a duck, hoping I’ve picked the one that will win the best prize. Unfortunately, I win a rubber duck. As in one that’s exactly like the one they’re using for the game.
“Way to go.” The woman working the game pats my hand as I accept the prize.
Paisley holds up the rubber duck in front of her. “What should we name her?”
“Who said it’s a her?” I ask.
“Impressive, Petrov. You sure know how to pick your ducks.” She hip checks me.
I can’t help but smile even though I feel like a loser who couldn’t actually win her anything.
“Yeah,” I say with a lack of enthusiasm. “Should we give it to some kid?”
Her brows furrow and her expression questions my audacity. “This is my pri
ze. She’s mine to always remember tonight.”
“All I had to do was pick a duck,” I grumble.
She pulls me over to a more secluded area. “I should thank you properly.”
“What does that mean?”
She pushes me so my back hits the concrete wall and steps closer to me. Rising on her tiptoes, she gives me another kiss that speeds up my pulse and makes my dick twitch.
Afterward we walk for a while. But I figure we should probably head home since we have a long drive ahead of us.
“One more ride, you choose,” she says.
I lead her to the closest one because I’m ready to have her completely to myself. We leave the rubber duck—who is yet to have a name—with the attendant. I warn him if anything happens to the thing, we’re going to have words, and he looks at me like I’m crazy because, yeah, it’s just a rubber duck. But it seems to mean something to Paisley which means it means something to me.
“Cart one?” I ask Paisley, knowing this could be her breaking point.
“Okay.”
The roller coaster isn’t as big as the others, so she should be fine. “I’ll hold your hand the entire time.”
“Deal.” We climb in the first cart, and I take her hand.
We roll slowly up the hill. From the rides earlier this evening, I know that she hates the first hill, so I let her squeeze me as much as possible.
“You got this,” I say to her.
She nods, then the roller coaster peaks over the first hill. Our cart teeters there, looking down over what’s below us—concrete and metal.
The roller coaster halts and we don’t move at all.
“Oh, man, it broke,” a guy behind us says.
“You good?” I ask Paisley, looking over to see her eyes squeezed shut.
“Maksim?” she whispers.
“Yeah?”
“I think I’ve had enough.”
I bite down my laugh and squeeze her hand again. “Deal.”
Thus far, Maksim has made good on planning original dates. Today he took me to a donut place before we had to be at the arena to meet with the at-risk youth. We’ve done no more than kiss, and he doesn’t seem as eager as I am for more. After the amusement park, he dropped me off at my house, kissed me goodbye, and I watched him walk down the pathway back to his car.
“Next week you’re coming with us to Nashville, right?” he asks me, caging me into a dark corner in the back hallway of the arena.
“I am, and speaking of the team, I need to report a meeting with you to Mr. Gerhardt.”
“All in due time. Back to Nashville—plan on one of our dates while we’re there.” He kisses the delicate flesh under my earlobe.
“We can’t have a date when I’m with the team.”
How on earth does he think that would work? We might as well announce we’re dating to everyone. I know I’m not really treating Maksim, so technically it’s a bit of a gray area, but no one else knows that.
“Trust me. We’ll be fine.”
“Maksim.”
He places his finger to my lips. “Trust me.”
This man is making me forget my better judgment. I nod and he bends down again, this time replacing his finger with his lips. I slip my tongue through his parted lips, and a strangled groan rushes up his throat. His hands tighten on my hips and he breaches any distance between us, rubbing his huge hard-on against my stomach. We both lose control and forget where we are, our tongues battling for supremacy, our hands clenching on the other, pulling, tugging, and grinding.
He closes the kiss and rests his forehead against mine, breathing heavily as his fingers grip my hips. “I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to make it.”
“No one put a stipulation on how many dates until we sleep together.” My insides contract with my words. I’m desperate to have this man in my bed.
“I did. It’s kissing only until all nine dates are complete. I want you to know what kind of guy I am. That I’m not who you think.”
My fingers thread through his hair. I love the blond strands against his darker roots. “You have nothing to prove. I never should’ve assumed. I already know what kind of man you are.”
His head rocks side to side as his forehead stays glued to mine. “No. I want to do this even with the blue balls it’s giving me. You mean a lot to me, and when the time comes, I want you to be as sure as you are the sky is blue.”
My thighs clench. It’s only been two dates, which means I have seven more to go. “How fast can you make these dates happen?”
He laughs, and I love the deep timbre of his chuckle. It vibrates down to the pit of my stomach and warms there like brandy. “It won’t take too long.”
And then with one quick kiss, he’s backing away from me.
We fall in line again as though we’re just two acquaintances heading down the hall. The sounds of footsteps from our little Fury Juniors coming down the hallway fills the space.
“Hey, I forgot to talk to you,” Maksim says. “Do you mind if I just work with Dru and Malcolm today? You could maybe give a tour of the arena to the others. They’re embarrassed—”
This time I look both ways and place my finger to his lips. “No problem.”
He smiles and opens his mouth, his tongue sliding around my finger. I knew he had a magical tongue, but holy shit, I want to fall to my back and spread my legs and let him use those masterful skills between my thighs. He kisses the tip of my finger, and I’m pretty sure my mouth could inhale a swarm of flies it’s open so wide.
“Thanks,” he says.
Just before the group is far enough down the hall where they can see us, he walks away, leaving me speechless.
For the first half hour of our time together, I take the rest of the group on a tour. We visit the offices and press boxes, then walk through the empty arena, past all the concession stands that would normally be lined up with people. Then we head back down and I show them the press room where the players do interviews after the games, and finally the locker room where each spot has a jersey hanging up for each player.
“They all shower together?” Lark asks. “Weird.”
“They’re all men,” I say.
“Still. They make so much money and they all have to see one another naked?” Lark’s look of disgust makes me look at Jana, who showed up a few minutes into the tour.
“Want to see one of the suites?” Jana asks.
A unanimous yes sounds from the group, so Jana takes us to an elevator. Using her key to the Gerhardts’ suite, she opens the door and allows everyone to file in.
“Man, talk about money,” one of the boys says, going to where the inside meets the outside. “Hey, there’s Malcolm.”
Oh shit, I completely forgot.
“Hey, everyone, let’s head back to the concession area. Maybe we can make a big pretzel. You have to be hungry.” I urgently weave through them to block any view of the boys and Maksim, but my feet come to a stop when I see what’s happening.
“He’s really good,” Marin says, a hint of adoration in her tone.
Malcolm has a stick and he’s moving the puck around the ice. Dru is continuing to skate the oval and doing pretty damn well. Maksim comes up behind Malcolm and puts his hands over Malcolm’s to show him how to handle the puck.
“I want to learn too,” Lark says.
“Okay, let’s go then.” I can’t take my eyes off of Maksim.
Dru falls and Maksim flawlessly helps him up and looks like he gestures for Dru to keep going. Malcolm skates toward the goal and gets the puck in the net, the light on top flashing. He grows so excited he lifts his arms, only to lose his footing and fall on his ass.
“He scored!” Marin exclaims.
Maksim screams a huge WOO-HOO that echoes through the arena and Malcolm smiles a big toothy smile as my heart leaps.
I don’t need nine dates to know how special this man is.
“You owe me for this,” Jana says from the other end of the phone.
&nb
sp; “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable going on this date.” I apologize for the umpteenth time since Mr. Gerhardt called and told me he’d set up a date for me.
That’s how he does things. He doesn’t ask permission, just does whatever he thinks is best, and to him, I’m his daughter’s lonely friend who needs a social life. Never mind that I’m seven dates away from sleeping with a member of his team.
“I thought you and Maksim aren’t exclusive?” Jana asks.
“Well, I’m not asking him if we are.” I’ve never felt so in limbo with someone. I think we’re only seeing one another, but I don’t have the nerve to outright ask. “All I know is I’m not comfortable going out with someone else.”
“You do know it’s some guy from my dad’s country club. Like the tournament planner or something. I have nothing to wear that fits what he’ll be looking for.”
“Jana, you’re gorgeous. I’m sure whatever you wear he’s going to love.”
“You better nail Maksim, and I want all the details after you do. That’s payback for making me go on a date with this guy. And you need to tell my dad to stop fixing you up.”
I open my bag of sour cream and onion chips, pop one in my mouth, and eat it.
“Are you eating? You’d better be going out with him tonight.” There’s anger in her tone because Jana hates blind dates. One time she showed up and the guy made her pay the bill in full since she was Jana Gerhardt and the entire conversation was filled with questions about her trust fund.
“You know they have that bachelor party for that trainer on the team.”
She groans. “You should’ve gone on the date. He’s going to be at strip clubs and you’re sitting at home in your pajamas, eating what sounds like potato chips and probably watching Netflix by yourself.”
“Come over after the date.”
“I’m going to call and cancel,” she says.
“No! I don’t want your dad to know I didn’t go. If you show up and make an excuse for me, he’ll be pleasantly surprised. If we just cancel, he’ll call your dad and your dad will call me, then I’m either going to have to lie outright or crumble and tell the truth.”
