When I wasn’t playing hockey, my poor, befuddled brain was filled with images of Cin going down on me with her glorious lips wrapped around my cock. The entire erotic incident almost seemed like a dream, only it’d been real, as evidenced by the fact that I hardly saw Cin after it happened. We left the next day for a one-game road trip, played another at home, and then left again for three games on the road, which rounded out our preseason.
Ziggy didn’t say a word to me about his suspicions regarding what Cin and I had been doing that morning. I wished he’d just give me hell and get it over with. I couldn’t shake the feeling he was lying in wait for the right moment to pounce. A hockey player didn’t let a juicy tidbit like this go without delivering a ration of shit. If the skate had been on the other foot, I’d have gone for it and spared nothing.
I wasn’t playing my best, and frustration threatened to further deteriorate my game. I missed opportunities to steal the puck that I wouldn’t normally miss. My passes weren’t as crisp. I was getting my ass chewed regularly by the coaches for my sloppy play. This wasn’t like me. I was distracted, and as hard as I tried to deny it, I knew the reason why. Thankfully, my spot on the team was solidified, despite my crappy showing of late.
I was anxious to get the preseason over with so we could get down to the real stuff. The only thing I loved more than playing hockey was competing at hockey. Once the regular season started, I’d be my old self once again, no longer distracted by my sexy roommate with the magic mouth. I was certain of it. I’d never let a female come between me and hockey. I was the epitome of self-control and concentration when it came to the game I lived and breathed for. Having a female in my life at this early point in my professional career was not part of my master plan.
I thought I’d be able to shake off those memories of Cin. Move on. Forget about her. That didn’t happen. During the second game of the road trip, I was sitting on the bench, waiting for my line to be sent onto the ice, and my thoughts drifted to Cin with all those delectable tats, her long, black hair, and that incredible mouth.
Wilcox jabbed me with an elbow. “Your line’s going out. You asleep?”
Fuck. I leapt over the boards with Wilcox’s evil laughter following me onto the ice. I’d been caught with my pants down figuratively, thinking of a woman rather than concentrating on the game. Coach barked something at me. I didn’t catch the words, but his tone told me all I needed to know. My lack of attention to the game hadn’t been lost on him.
I had to get in the zone somehow, someway. But fantasies of Cin were now invading my game time. I wondered if my other buddies who’d succumbed to women in the past year had this problem. Only I hadn’t succumbed. This was sex and chemistry, nothing else. It wasn’t love, not like they’d all found. Of the original four rookie Puck Brothers, I was the lone wolf, not fitting in with the single guys because I wasn’t a partier and not fitting in with my attached buddies either. The last thing I’d ever do was ask Easton, Axel, or Kaden how they managed to concentrate on the game when they had another sport on their minds.
I’d never had this problem before.
I was disciplined and driven.
Or had been.
I missed a pass from Kaden right out of the gate, and things went downhill from there. Nothing I did was right the rest of the game. Vancouver beat us, five to one, pretty embarrassing even for preseason. Making it all the worse, Wilcox scored the only point and strutted around the locker room like a banty rooster who’d been given the run of the chicken coop.
Asshole.
I was getting dressed when Coop sat down next to me, his eyes troubled. For a brief moment, my stomach did a nosedive. Was I being sent down after a year in the NHL?
“What’s going on with you?” Coop said in his usual straightforward manner. Our assistant coach didn’t beat around the bush. He’d been the Sockeyes team captain and top scorer the year we’d won the Cup, and he was a force to be reckoned with. A legend among legends. I was a little in awe of him. He’d also turned into a damn fine coach. I had no doubts he’d be offered a head coaching job somewhere in the next year or two.
“Nothing. Why?”
His dark brows shot upward as if to punctuate what a stupid question that was.
“I’m fine. Really. My game is off, but that happens to everyone. I’ll get it back before the regular season.”
He nodded, but his expression was skeptical. “There’re usually only a few reasons a dependable guy like you goes off the rails, and I’m guessing which reason it is.”
When I didn’t respond, he continued his lecture. “I’ve been there, and I fought it every step of the way. You have to separate your career as a professional hockey player from your personal life. They can’t coexist. Once you lace up your skates, your personal life goes into a locked compartment and doesn’t come out until you take off your skates. Got it?”
“Yeah, I got it.”
Satisfied, he stood and walked away, pausing to talk to his buddy Cedric. I hurriedly dressed and went to the team bus. No one sat near me on the short drive to the hotel. I didn’t blame them. A lot of guys were suspicious and didn’t want my bad juju to rub off on them. Even Wilcox avoided me. I guess he wasn’t the completely clueless bastard I thought he was.
We didn’t fly out after the game but stayed in the hotel for the night. We’d leave for Anaheim in the morning, our last preseason game.
After we got off the bus, I followed my teammates into the lobby. My buddies scattered to the wind, mostly likely to sext with their SOs. If I went to my room, all I’d do was fantasize about Cin. I needed a distraction. Against my better judgment, I joined the single guys at a bar across the street. I sipped on a beer while the rest of the group downed pitcher after pitcher of beer. Like a distant observer, I sat on the outside looking in. That was me. I was a team player, but I wasn’t close to anyone, not even my fellow Puck Brothers.
I noticed with surprise Ziggy wasn’t anywhere to be seen. He’d probably already picked up a female or two and was having a private party in his room. At least he stayed out of trouble that way.
I hung out for an hour, fended off the advances of a few women, threw some bills on the table for my food and drink, and left the bar. No one seemed to notice I was gone. They were all busy with their own pursuits.
I didn’t belong except on the ice.
I was feeling sorry for myself, down and melancholy. I briefly entertained what it’d be like to have a girlfriend, someone to talk to about my game, someone to come home to, someone to share a bed with. Hell, someone to sext and send dick pics. Of course, the first person who came to mind was Cin, which was ridiculous. We weren’t ever going to be a long-term affair. We were too different, from our world views to our personal views. We had nothing in common. Opposites might attract, but they didn’t last in my practical way of seeing things.
But damn if that woman didn’t give good head.
All I’d been able to think about was getting more of what she was giving.
She was driving me insane, freaking insane.
I briefly considered calling my mom. She was the only person in this world I could depend on 100 percent. After my dad, a policeman, had been shot during a domestic incident when I was only three, my mom was all I had. We’d been close all my life. In some ways, she was my best friend, but there were things a guy didn’t tell his mother, regardless of how close they were. I wasn’t about to tell her was being driven out of my mind after a simple blow job.
Instead of going to my room, I sat down at a table in the deserted hotel bar and engaged in one of my favorite pastimes, people watching. My mom and I used to make up stories about the people we saw, each one more outrageous than the next. I got pretty good at reading people after years of doing so.
At the opposite end of the lobby, Ziggy got off the elevator, followed by a teenage girl. I focused my full attention on the two of them. She couldn’t be more than sixteen. As I watched, he walked her toward the main doors. They s
topped just outside near a waiting cab. He pulled out his wallet and counted out several bills. She took the money and tucked it into her purse then got into the taxi.
Ziggy watched her go and came back inside.
I was seething. It was one thing for Ziggy to hump any woman of age who moved, but this girl was definitely underage, most likely forced into prostitution. If one of the coaches or Ice had seen that little interchange, he’d be on a plane back to Seattle and packing up his stuff.
I wouldn’t be a party to this bullshit. He wasn’t bringing home underage girls to my condo.
“Hey,” I called to him as he walked past the bar. He paused and looked around before he caught sight of me. He wasn’t his usual sunny self. In fact, he glowered at me as he walked into the bar, as if I’d put him out or something.
“Sit,” I ordered.
His eyes narrowed into menacing slits, but he didn’t swing at me. I could tell he wanted to. He was in a mood, but I wasn’t feeling exceptionally kindly either. He slid into the booth opposite me.
“What?” he said with annoyance when I said nothing, just glared at him.
“What? I saw you with that girl.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, so?”
“So? How old is she?”
“Fifteen, not that it’s any of your business.”
“What the fuck were you doing with a fifteen-year-old? I don’t care that she’s taking your money. She’s still fifteen, you dumb shit.”
He rose up, thought better of it, and sat back down. “What are you implying?”
“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”
“No, spell it out for me. I’m not as bright as you are.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, and his eyes blazed with fury.
“You paid that girl to sleep with you, and she’s underage.” I leaned across the table. My hands were fisted, and after the day I’d had, I was more than ready to take him on.
“Is that what you believe? You think so little of me that you assumed she was a prostitute I hired? That I have a penchant for young girls?”
“Well, do you?”
“I should fucking strangle you right here, but…” He glanced around and lowered his voice. “I can’t afford any more trouble with the team.”
Uncertainty flooded me. Something wasn’t adding up. Had I misjudged the situation? Made assumptions too quickly?
Ziggy rose to his feet and glared down at me. “For your information, asswipe, that was my sister.” He turned on his heel and stalked off, leaving me staring after him with my mouth wide open.
His sister?
Ziggy had a sister? He’d never once talked about family in the year I’d known him. I’d made another wrong assumption that, like me he was an only child.
My famous intuition had failed me once again. I hadn’t picked up on her possibly being a relative because I thought the worst of Ziggy.
I put my head in my hands and stared at the table, suddenly battling a raging headache.
Chapter Twelve
Barbells
~~Steele~~
* * *
We played a Saturday afternoon game in Anaheim and flew back to Seattle. Ziggy hitched a ride with Cave. He still wasn’t talking to me, and I felt like shit. I’d tried to apologize several times, but he refused to listen, told me to leave him alone. Finally, Ice intervened and suggested I give him some space to get over whatever was pissing him off.
I left him alone after that. I parked my car in the condo garage but didn’t go inside. I didn’t want to run into Ziggy and Cave, who was also having nothing to do with me. I’d tried to call my mom, but as often happened in her new job, she wasn’t available to talk.
My feet carried me down the street. I walked past the bar where Cin worked. She toiled inside, cleaning tables. There wasn’t a customer in sight, and the Closed sign hung on the door. I rapped on the glass and gestured for her to open the door.
She glanced up and smiled at me. At least Ziggy hadn’t gotten to her yet, but it was only a matter of time unless I told her my side first. She’d rail at me, but I could handle it. I needed to talk to someone right now. For reasons I didn’t care to examine, I’d picked her.
She unlocked the door and stood back to let me in. I shed my coat and put it over a chair then followed her as she walked behind the bar to continue her closing routine. I sat down on my now-familiar barstool.
“Want a beer? It’s on the house.”
“No, thanks. How about some water?”
“Sure.” She poured me a glass of water and handed it to me.
“Thanks. Why are you being so nice to me?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was. I’ll have to up my game.” Her lush mouth curled into a slight smile, and I managed a half-hearted smile in return.
“Tough road trip?” she asked.
“The toughest.”
“I watched all the games.”
“Then you know part of it.” She watched my games? My heart soared, even as I attempted to wash away any misconceptions that her watching meant anything. She was best friends with some of the WAGs and also knew several of the guys. Of course she was a Sockeyes fan. I had nothing to do with her interest in the game, but I wished I did.
“You weren’t playing your best. Not that I’m a huge hockey fan, but even I saw that.”
I winced. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Sorry.” She ducked her head and busied herself with emptying the dishwasher. “I didn’t mean to be so rude. You said I know part of it?”
“Yeah, part of it. The other part is that I’m an insensitive asshole who jumps to the wrong conclusions.”
“And you just figured that out? I could’ve told you that weeks ago and saved you some time.”
“Thanks.”
“Seriously.” She leaned across the counter, propped up by her elbows. “What’s up?”
“If I don’t tell you, Ziggy will, and you’ll hate me more than you already do.” My gaze flicked to her inked cleavage and back to her beautiful face. She didn’t react to my lewd behavior this time.
“Is that possible?” She winked at me, but I wasn’t taking her bait. Not tonight. I wasn’t in the mood.
“Yeah, it’s possible,” I said, wallowing in my misery.
“Fine, tell me.” Her laughing blue eyes met mine, and my breath caught in my throat. She was so fucking beautiful in an earthy, free-spirit way. She should’ve been born years ago. She’d have made a great flower child. “Steele,” she prodded me.
I shook my head to clear it, momentarily forgetting what I wanted to talk to her about other than having sex with her, which was all I’d thought about for the last several days. Reining in my baser self, I told her about the incident with Ziggy, even including the most unflattering parts.
“That was pretty shitty of you. I bet you’d have reported him to the police if he hadn’t told you she was his sister.”
“I would’ve if he was breaking the law.”
“You are something else.” She shook her head as if I was some kind of freak or something.
“It’s the law,” I repeated.
“You can’t live without your precious laws, your authority figures, and your rules, can you?”
“No, I cannot. I trust the system. You should try it sometime.”
“Maybe you should try being a little more human for once.”
“Thanks for understanding. Like I don’t feel bad enough.”
“Do you?” She studied me closer as if trying to see who lurked under the surface.
“Of course I do. While Ziggy might be a lot of things, accusing him of having a thing for teenage girls and paying for their services was a really shitty thing to do.”
“Really, really shitty.”
“You’re not helping.”
She stood up straight to her full height of five foot whatever. “What do you want from me?”
“A suggestion on how to get him to forgive me.”
“I didn’t
know Ziggy had anyone, let alone a sister. He’s never mentioned parents or a family of any kind.”
“Yeah, it surprised me, too.”
“You got yourself into this mess, you need to get yourself out, but I’ll do what I can to pave the way.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“It’ll cost you.”
“What will it cost me?” My tone slipped into teasing, almost sexual, okay, a lot sexual.
Her gaze slipped to my crotch, where the evidence was quite clear as to how being in her presence aroused me.
Looking at her, I felt like I was on really good drugs. And I was. Cin was the drug, and like any greedy addict, I wanted more of her.
We didn’t like each other, but the sex would be epic, and I knew this as well as I knew my own name. I’d never felt such intense chemistry with another woman. I hadn’t planned on starting anything with her and had told myself I wouldn’t, considering the drama it might cause as roommates. But I didn’t seem to have the ability to resist.
“I don’t like you, but I sure as hell want to fuck you,” she said.
I blinked several times as her words took a moment to sink in. She was being the aggressor. I didn’t know if I liked that or not. I was conflicted between throwing her over my shoulder and taking her to my den or running like hell, putting as much space as possible between us, and acting as if we weren’t having this conversation. But we were, and there wasn’t one tiny part of me that would be able to deny that.
“I want to fuck you too,” I admitted in a gravelly voice that didn’t sound like me. “Where?”
“What’s wrong with here? In the bar.”
“Someone might see us.” My warning was hollow because at this point I didn’t give a shit who saw us. Besides, complaining about the location highlighted my tight-ass persona, and right now I didn’t want to be that guy.
Icing Page 8
