Red Rocket

by Raine Miller

  “This?” I laugh lightly even though I know what he means.

  “This new thing between us. I told you, Scarlett, I have not been with a woman for a while. My focus has not been taken from hockey in a long time. I like you, and I like what we are together. Why should we not try?”

  “Good sex notwithstanding, what else is there between us? Hot sexy times does not a long-term relationship make.”

  “There is time,” he insists. “We can get to know each other more. We have only just begun. All things have a beginning.”

  “And an end,” I argue. “And maybe it’s best if we just enjoy this and let it go, so that we have good memories of it. It will never have a chance to fall apart if we end it now.”

  He growls—actually growls—and cracks his neck. “Scarlett, I know you are wary. Of me. Of who I am, or who you think I am. I know you have lost a love once before. I am not asking you to marry me. I am asking for us to give a try at this. Yes?”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Think on it,” he says confidently. “I must go to Russia for summer league. I will do that phone call with the video with you. We will talk…and perhaps other filthy things.”

  “Phone sex, Viktor?” I raise an eyebrow.

  “Yes, that. You will make yourself come for me while I watch you.”

  “So bossy.”

  “You like me bossy. And you will call.”

  Yes, sir.

  Twenty

  Better Call Saul

  Scarlett

  Two weeks later.

  I’m trying not to be weepy about the fact that Viktor is off to Russia. I won’t see him for at least eight more weeks, and as much as I put on the bravado and acted like things could never work between us, I really want them to.

  I like him. And not just because he’s hot and sexy and amazing in bed. That’s an excellent bonus, of course, but mostly, I just feel really comfortable around him. Safe. Now that I know he’s not in the mafia, not a gambling addict, and not throwing championship games for money, of course. I’m missing him terribly and it’s only been a few short days since our memorable “goodbye” in a utility closet at the Tangiers.

  Yeah, that one happened. Viktor surprised me at work one night shortly after our return from our Lake Tahoe trip. He’d asked for my work schedule at Tangiers on the guise of planning time for us to be together as much as possible before he had to leave, but I found out real quick it was to watch over me while I was serving gamblers with wandering eyes—and to make sure they never evolved into wandering hands or anything even remotely resembling disrespect. Viktor is a very protective caveman it turns out. He would find somewhere to sit and hang out until I finished my shift. He’d order drinks and sometimes food, but he made it clear he was there for me. I can’t stress enough how much that did to warm me to the idea of us having real relationship potential. He truly seems to understand my debatably irrational fears of being on some underworld hit list. He told me he only wants me to feel safe and to never have to worry about being assaulted or threatened for debts ever again. At the end of my shifts he’d be right there to follow me home or coax me over to his place to stay with him there. I did a few times, but we really didn’t have that many opportunities to be together before he had to go away. We said our farewells the night before he was leaving for Moscow with a romantic dinner and dancing at the Bellagio. Followed up by a marathon of hot goodbye-sex in a suite that lasted well into the wee hours of the morning.

  Obviously.

  My body will be missing him just as much. And his dancing wasn’t as terrible as I remember, either. To be fair, his slow-dancing moves are nothing to sneeze at. What he lacks in rhythm he more than makes up with his outstanding presentation. He’s so pretty in his Euro-cut suit that I can’t possibly notice much about his dance moves anyway. Especially when I’m in his arms while we’re dancing. Hello—not made of stone here.

  Viktor is far more cultured than most professional athletes I would guess. He’s had more formal experiences in his life than your average NHL player. He’s a romantic date. I’ve never been out with someone who pulled out all the stops with flowers and fancy hotel suites for wining, and dining, and dancing, and sexing, like Viktor-The Mad Russian-Demoskev does. Never would’ve thought he’d be that way in a million years. Preconceived impressions can be vastly different from the reality I have learned. It’s best not to judge people until you have some experience with them and can really see how they conduct themselves. I remember Pam saying something like that about Georg. I wonder what she’ll feel when I tell her about Viktor and me…when she finally gets home from her honeymoon.

  I sigh dreamily thinking about the final night with Viktor. I’m supposed to be pulling together press releases on all of our post-season stories, but I’ve spent way more time pining over Viktor instead.

  Fiona just ended our staff meeting for planning our summer coverage. As I trudge back to my desk, I wonder what he is up to all the way over in Moscow. Is he missing me as much as I am him? Does he have women busting down the doors to get his attention? Old girlfriends and hookups hoping to reconnect by sending him a “I heard you’re back in town” text with a titty pic. I don’t think Viktor would do that though. He asked me not to forget him over the summer, so I assume he won’t be seeking out female companionship while he’s away. But there’s no way for me to really know that for sure. I barely know him at all.

  I sigh and debate if I should start going to yoga class. It might help me channel my inner Zen, or at the very least, to locate the damn thing. That might be a good start, because I know I spend way too much time worrying about so many things as it is.

  I see Holly go into Fiona’s office and shut the door not long after our meeting is over. I noticed she was quiet during the staff meeting, which is very un-Holly-like. Usually she’s got a million ideas, more than we can ever implement. She stays in there for a long time with the door closed…which basically gives me the green light to indulge in some more Viktor-daydreaming while I’m supposed to be working.

  So, sue me. I can’t seem to stop myself from doing it.

  But that surprise extra last goodbye though…

  I’d just finished serving a round and was on my way back to the bar with orders when my coworker, Nikki, sidled up to me with a sly wink. “You told me your big hockey stud was off to Russia for the summer.”

  “He is. His flight left this afternoon.”

  “Well, he didn’t make his flight, honey, because he just asked me to cover you for a break. Tipped me very nicely too.”

  “What? Viktor’s here?” I whip my head around and nearly dump my drink tray in the process.

  “I told him to wait for you in the break room.” She smiles knowingly. “You’re welcome.”

  “Oh my God, Nikki, I love you.” I give her my tray and kiss her on the cheek.

  “Don’t get caught, and I expect a detailed reporting, if you know what I mean,” she calls after me, but I’m already booking it toward the break room.

  I find him leaning against some Maker’s Mark boxes stacked alongside the hallway, looking hot AF in black jeans and a long-sleeved cream shirt with every cut and curve of his muscles defined in glorious detail beneath the super-soft fabric. “What happened? Why are you still here in Vegas?”

  “My flight changed to later one. I’m going to the airport now, but I told my driver to wait. I hoped to have one last goodbye with you.”

  “Oh, you beautiful man, come here.” I hold out my arms to him and he meets me halfway, the two of us colliding in a powerful kiss that certainly needs somewhere much more private than this employee backroom area.

  “I was impulsive to come while you are working, I know, but I wanted to see you one more time before I go.” He stops kissing me and holds my face in both of his hands, his eyes intense. “And to tell you I have arranged something for you while I am away.”

  “You arranged something…for me?”

  “Just to ease your mind,
and also for me to ease mine. I do not want you to be worrying about those thugs that hurt you before.” He puts a shiny black business card into my hand. “You should call this guy if someone gives you trouble or follows you. His name is Saul Heisenberg. He is what’s called a fixer and can take care of any problem. If you feel frightened or threatened, then you must call him. He will know who you are.” Viktor kisses me gently on the lips in the sweetest way. Never could I have imagined Viktor Demoskev would be so caring and gentle and considerate. His big mean brute reputation is a facade apparently—not that I object in any way, but it’s kind of shocking to fully accept that. “Will you do this for me, Scarlett? I want you feeling very safe even if I am not here to watch out for you. In this way I can still do it from afar.”

  I blink up at him in surprise, my eyes working rapidly to hold back the flood of tears that spring up uncontrollably. “Y-Yes, I so will. That’s got to be the most generous thing anyone has ever done for me, Viktor. I can’t believe you set that up for me.” I am overcome with all kinds of emotions. I doubt even Viktor understands how much his gesture means. I certainly don’t want to anticipate having to call this Saul guy, but simply knowing he’s there to call is everything to me. “Thank you. You have no idea what this means…” I kiss him deeply, hoping to show him just how touched I am. But I pull my lips away quickly, taking him by the hand and tugging him to follow me. I lead him past the break room farther down another hall. I have a better idea…

  “Where are we going?”

  “Let’s go this way,” I say as we round a corner and then stop in front of the utility room door. “Because we need some privacy for what I want to do.” I pull him inside the dim room that smells of ammonia and lemon and shut us inside. Cleaning supplies, paper products, and light bulbs are stacked from floor to ceiling so there isn’t a ton of room, but it’ll do. I kick a heavy mop bucket against the door with my foot with the intent to keep out anyone who might have the sudden urge to refill the paper towels during the next fifteen minutes, and then start shimmying out of my silky shorts. The lower half of my uniform consists of black butt shorts over black fishnets and ankle boots, and since I still have to go back out on the floor and finish the rest of my shift after this, I can’t risk ripping or tearing anything. Good job thinking ahead for once, girl!

  “What are you doing?” Viktor’s hazel eyes bounce between me stripping and taking in the contents of the tiny room I’ve locked us into. I can tell I’ve taken him by surprise, but I have a feeling he’ll get on board with my plan quickly enough. His eyes have darkened, turned on by my strip show, even if I can’t take the time right now to do one properly for him due to my break being only twenty minutes. The small details will get you if you’re not careful, and I do not want us to get busted by management.

  “Getting naked. You should too because we don’t have a lot of time.”

  “Are we going to fuck in this janitor closet, Red Rocket?”

  I nod…slowly after I drop my fishnets carefully atop the growing pile of my outfit for emphasis. “We so are.” I drop to my knees in front of him and make quick work of freeing his cock from his jeans. He’s already impossibly hard as I stroke him in my hand. His leg muscles flex and his knees buckle just slightly as I take his cock and give it a good lick from base to tip. He groans when I pull him in deep and let him bottom out at the back of my throat. I’m so full with him deep-throating me, but it’s good. He’s good. And knowing I’m making him feel pleasure gives me a warm feeling inside.

  “Sex in the janitor closet was a good idea,” Viktor groans as he steadies my head with his hands on either side. He gets quiet then and I know he’s watching his cock stroke in and out of my mouth, getting more turned on, and impossibly harder with each slick slide.

  Abruptly he stops moving, his cock pulling away as he bends down to reach for me. “Your mouth feels too fucking good to my cock and I won’t last very long with you sucking me like that.” Lifting me easily, he turns us so he can rest my back against the wall while he lines his big hard cock up to meet my pussy. I’m soaked and so ready for him that I can’t help squirming as he presses just the very tip inside me. “And I need to see your beautiful green eyes looking up into mine when you come shaking all over my cock.” I moan against his lips as he sinks his whole glorious length into me, kissing me deeply at the same time, filling me up, holding me close.

  God, how I’m going to miss his oh-so-eloquent dirty talking. From the very first, Viktor has been able to say the right words to melt me into a desperate sexual creature helpless to resist him. He has a way with words during sex that hits my sensual switch every single time. Pretty impressive for a guy who’s still mastering conversational English, but it’s probably part of his charm too. That accent of his paired with his literal word choices becomes Kryptonite for my libido.

  Suddenly, I feel irrationally emotional that I won’t see him after today for a long time—possibly ever again—and it makes me choke up. I feel my eyes start to water and summon every ounce of strength to fight it off. I will not cry. I will not cry. Instead, I kiss him back and rock my hips into him, urging him to start with the moving.

  “Now fuck me goodbye before my break runs out, big man.”

  Which he proceeded to do. Spectacularly. Especially that last searing look from him as he came. His eyes were so intense as he stared at me pinned to the wall of the utility closet by his cock, my body tingling head to toe from the mind-shattering orgasm he’d just delivered. The intimacy between us was…blinding in that moment.

  I hoped I was right about the thoughts roaring and crashing through my head.

  Mostly that Viktor didn’t want to leave me any more than I wanted him to go—

  “Earth to Scarlett.”

  I’m ripped from my erotic reminiscing quite rudely by Sid with all the finesse of an ice-bucket challenge. Why is Sid Lane even here in the office today? And then I remember…On the guise of dropping in to check out the schedule, he’s probably more like checking out his new “friend,” Daisy. Yep, those two connected at Pam and Georg’s engagement party. While I was doing Viktor up in my room that night, Sid showed up to the party and hit it off with the shy girl.

  “I’m right here, Siddy, feet planted firmly on the earth.” I wiggle my foot and stomp it on the floor dramatically. “Whatever do you need?” I ask cheerily, desperately trying to distract him from the fact that he knows he just caught me red-handed deep in a filthy sex dream.

  At my desk.

  In the middle of a PR department.

  He laughs and shakes his head. “Um…nothing. But Holly’s been trying to get your attention for about two minutes.” He pokes his thumb in her direction.

  Oh. My. God.

  I flush with guilt when I look up to find Holly with her head sticking out of Fiona’s office impatiently motioning at me to come and join them.

  I move my ass into the office and sit down, trying to peek at Holly out of the corner of my eye. She looks cute. She always looks cute. She’s got a tiny little baby bump emerging, but since she’s a distance runner, her baby bump looks like someone else’s pizza overindulgence.

  “Scarlett,” Fiona starts, “Holly has something to tell you.”

  I look at my friend as she flashes me a small smile. “So, you know how Evan and I are having another baby?”

  “Yep. How’s everything going? Okay?”

  She nods. “Yes, great. I’m twelve weeks today, honestly further along than I thought. And I’ve been thinking that it’s been really challenging to be a good wife and a good mom and a good full-time social media manager for the team. Trying to balance it all…it’s been wicked hard. And I get these recruitment calls all the time, but I obviously wasn’t going to leave and go to another team while Evan is still here.”

  Fiona taps a pencil on her desk impatiently, clearly wanting Holly to get to the point. She jumps in and says, “Holly’s starting her own social media and PR company. She’s pulled together a few sports clien
ts who don’t have the interest or budget to hire full-time staff, or who want her expertise in campaign planning.”

  “Wow!” I turn back to Holly. “That’s really unexpected.”

  “I know. It’s just that I think if I work from home, I can maybe spend more time with my daughter. With our new baby. I can be more focused on my family and just work when I want, on the projects I want.”

  I can see she’s getting a little emotional, her eyes pooling with tears. I reach out and offer her my hand. “Are you sure you want this?”

  She nods and takes my hand in a firm grip. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, honestly. Evan is on board. And I really, really love this team, so it’s not an easy decision. But I am sure. It’s the right thing for me and for my family.”

  “Well, congratulations then?” It comes out more like a question than I intended, but I’m truly shocked by this news.

  “So,” Fiona says sharply. “With Holly leaving, I wanted to talk with you about taking on her role and leading our social media efforts.”

  The shock must be clearly written on my face because Holly jumps in to say, “You did a great job when I was on maternity leave. I can stay another month to on-board you and help you build a plan for the pre-season. And I’m not leaving Vegas. I’ll still be here if you need help or advice.”

  “Are you interested, Scarlett?” Fiona prods my stunned silence.

  I think about Viktor, about how badly I want to be with him, about how much he says he wants to be with me. And honestly, I think about saying no. About figuring out something else, about finding a job that will let me see him without the fear of being fired.

  But I remember that he’s gone for months and he could be lukewarm about things by the time he returns. How can there possibly be a future between me—an uneducated girl who’s only known Las Vegas—and a world-renowned Olympic champion and professional athlete who could have any woman he wanted at any time?