Enforcer (Seattle Sharks Book 2)

by Samantha Whiskey

  “Well, this looks divine, Jeannine. Thank you.” Rory licked his lips as his eyes trailed my body before he held up his full plate and sauntered to an empty table near the auction items.

  Jeannine whistled. “He just eye-fucked you in public, girl. I told you he’s got it bad.”

  I darted my gaze left and right, thankful no one was near enough to catch her words. “No, he doesn’t.” And the mere thought did not make my heart beat harder. Nope. It was just the way his ass looked in those slacks as he’d walked away.

  My second guest list made the perfect timing to arrive, and I hurried over to the entrance to greet them. “Thank you all for coming,” I said and pointed to Jeannine’s stations. “Please feel free to fill your plates, sit where you’d like, and enjoy the entertainment. After you’ve had enough to your liking, please stop by the auction table and pick up your raffle ticket. We’ll be holding a drawing after the auction.”

  I received several hugs, a few handshakes, and plenty of skeptical looks as people who varied in age and sex pushed on to the food, creating a fast but well-formed line. After satisfying myself that everything was running smoothly, and with the band in full swing, eliciting some people to dance before the stage, I made my way over to Rory.

  He grinned over his empty plate, the look all too confident that he’d known, without any doubt, I’d come to him.

  I took a seat next to him, adjusting my dress over my legs underneath the cloth that draped over the table.

  “You know, we joke about the stalking thing, but it isn’t really sexy. That junk only exists in the movies.”

  He placed a large palm over his chest. “You wound me.”

  “Please.” I laughed.

  Shifting in his seat, he angled his legs toward me under the table, his knee brushing mine. “I have some paperwork for you in my car. Signed. Aren’t you excited, honey?”

  The way he said the pet name was forced and awkward enough to make me laugh. Nothing like the real nickname he had for me, which made me shiver whenever he dropped it. “I’m thrilled, darling.” I teased him. “I can’t imagine how terrible this will be for you,” I said, lowering my voice.

  “Fun.” He shook his head. “It’ll be fun. You can at least admit that.”

  The ache between my thighs had yet to be satisfied, so I shrugged. “Still waiting to see.”

  He leaned to whisper in my ear. “Admit it. You got wet the second you saw me.”

  My lips parted, and I swear I didn’t mean to gasp. I glanced around with panicked eyes, as if anyone could’ve heard his hushed tone. My confident and controlling persona was useless here, surrounded by all the people whose livelihoods depended on our profitable and well-functioning company.

  His fingers grazed the bare skin of my thigh, pushing underneath the skirt of my dress, and rising dangerously high. Blood pumped so hard through my veins it rushed in my ears.

  “Wow. I’ve never seen you speechless, Red.” He stopped his ascent but kept his hand on my leg. Just two inches to the right and he’d be able to touch me where I ached.

  I didn’t dare move, unable to deny the pulse-pounding adrenaline I received from his direct advance in a very public place—not that anyone could see—the draped cloth covering everything that mattered.

  I locked eyes with him. “You haven’t known me that long.”

  “Something I’m trying to remedy. We’ve only got three months. Have to make it count.”

  “Look who is taking his duties more than a step farther.”

  “What makes you say that?” He took up his massaging of my thigh again, and I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry.

  “It seems like you’re taking an interest in my personal life. What matters to me. That’s dangerously close to ruining the casual agreement we’ve struck.” I intertwined my fingers on the table top, fearing if I let them wander they’d plunge down his pants. Good Lord I couldn’t keep it together around this man.

  He smirked. “Casual?” He eyed me. “Come on, Paige. You and I both know nothing between us has been casual.”

  “I’m proud, though. Your donations and presence here today will help jumpstart that…wholesome image we’re going for.” I tried to reference the business side of our deal in order to cool the fire pulsing between my thighs, but my words still came out stuttered with each movement of his hand on my skin.

  “You know what I’ve told you when you go all boardroom on me?” He shifted closer to me, slowly tugging one of my hands underneath the table to lightly graze the outline of his extremely hard cock. “Keep talking like that, and I’ll forget I’m playing the good boyfriend who holds hands and does brunch.”

  His words soaked my panties, and I wiggled in my seat. Damn it, he had a direct line to my fuck me now button—one I hadn’t known existed until I’d met him.

  “Rory I—”

  “Saying my name only makes it worse, Red.” He hissed, and his fingers found my wetness under the table with no pretenses of light petting. He dove right in, pushing my panties to the side and stroking my clit with an expertise that had me immediately in sparking knots.

  I sucked in a deep breath, unable to tear my eyes away from all the potential people who could catch us. They danced, ate second portions, or browsed the auction table, not ten feet from where we sat—and they were all thankfully oblivious.

  My body? Not so much.

  Rory kept his eyes on me, grazing over my chest, which I tried beyond belief to keep control of. The act was harder than anything I’d ever done, and I was a fucking Harvard graduate. Sparks shot across every surface of my skin, the heat from his touch burrowing deeper in my core as he slipped his fingers inside me.

  God, why did I have to wear a dress?

  He pressed his thumb against my clit as he pushed his fingers in deeper.

  Scratch that. Thank God I’d worn a dress.

  My breath quickened, and I couldn’t help it, I moved against him with the smallest of motions, silently begging him to make me come…regardless of the people surrounding us. I’d needed the release at his doing since the first night in the penthouse. He’d kept it from me for so long I was ready to jump him at my own company’s event! I wiggled again, imagining his strong hand was the strong cock I knew he had.

  He jolted, immediately withdrawing his hand. He pushed back from the table, waving to the crowd who I only just now realized had their eyes on him.

  “Thank you,” he said after he’d climbed on stage and the crowd had started applauding. He silenced them with one raise of his hand. The same hand that had been inside me seconds ago. Holy hell. “I promised Paige I would say a few words. Promised her they’d be clever. Well, I’m going to have to break my promise as I’ve misplaced that priceless speech.”

  Everyone laughed, but I remained lost in my head, in the heat still throbbing between my thighs. How could I lose it like that? How could I let him do that to me with the chance of getting caught so very close?

  “What I will say is thank you all for coming. For contributing to a corporation that has helped keep families healthy and wholesome for decades.” The way he emphasized the word wholesome had me grinning despite the insane terror mixed with need rushing in my blood. It was like he was speaking only to me, not the hundreds in the crowd. “You’re all wonderful people that I’m honored to have met today,” he finished, flashing that million-dollar smile and descending the stage to another round of applause. He even stopped to snap quick photos with anyone who asked.

  I thought the separation would be like a cold shower and shock some sense into me.

  It didn’t. He only turned me on more, showing a side I’d never seen before—at least a side the media had never shown coverage on. His eyes caught mine across the crowd and I didn’t miss the lust that flashed behind them.

  I crossed my legs, unable to ignore the slickness between the motion.

  The auction winners were announced and collected their items right after his speech, and then, per my direction,
Kelsey had drawn a numbered ticket from the raffle I’d had the shelter guests collect from. The winner had two children with her and hugged them before rushing up to meet Kelsey. She didn’t know she’d just won a check big enough to feed her family for a year; she was just happy to win anything at all. It broke my heart and made me fill with pride at the same time.

  And just as I was mentally plotting all the people I could help once I took over as C.E.O., Rory drew my attention and motioned toward the parking area just outside the gardens. I quickly followed him to his car secretly hoping he’d throw me in the passenger seat and take me to his place for an entire night of nothing but him and a set of sheets.

  Instead, he opened the door and pulled out the same folder I’d given him over dinner. “It’s official.” He handed me the contract which I glanced at. It was signed. “You’re mine for three months.”

  The claim sent another wave of heat across my skin. I straightened, arching an eyebrow at him. “I believe this states you’re mine, Mr. Jackson. Do we need to go over the articles again?”

  His hands snaked around my hips, the movement innocent, but it was enough of a public display that if anyone were watching they would know we were “together.”

  “Only if you want to give me an actual peek at the list, Ms. Turner.”

  I chuckled, shaking my head and moving his hands from my hips, keeping hold of one with my hand. “Why are you so interested in the list?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? If I’m number seven, I can’t imagine what else made it on there.”

  I playfully smacked his chest. “Overconfident much?”

  He squeezed my hand. “Haven’t you read the blogs? I’m Rory-fucking-Jackson. The only person I’ve ever loved is myself.”

  I squinted my eyes at him, noticing the crease between his brow appear again for a split second as he tried to play off the joke. I was quickly becoming aware he didn’t have a clue about his small tell, and it made me feel like I had a piece of him no one else did.

  This time when I touched his chest I used it to balance on my pumps as I pushed up on my tiptoes to kiss him. I kept myself in check, not slipping my tongue in his mouth like I ached to, but inside teased his lips with mine just enough to make him sigh. Pulling back, I locked onto his blue eyes. “Fuck the blogs. The papers. The magazines. They don’t have a clue who you really are.”

  He smirked. “And you do?”

  I licked my lips, happy they tasted like him. “I’m starting to.”

  His eyes widened as if the prospect was more terrifying than the hits he took on the ice. I laughed, tugging him back toward the party. “It’s almost time to clean up. How good are you with your hands?”

  “Figured you could answer that by now,” he said, following me behind Jeannine’s line of tables.

  “Jury is still out.”

  “Ouch. Red, you are hard to please.”

  “And you’re hard—”

  “Whoa, kids, we don’t need to hear all of that,” Jeannine cut me off, and I chuckled. “Or maybe we do.” She waggled her eyebrows again as she handed me a dishrag. I smacked her thigh with it before tossing one to Rory.

  “You think you can manage to clean some dirty dishes? Or do you have practice?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Practice isn’t for another few hours. And you know I’m really good at taking care of all things…dirty.”

  Heat rushed to my cheeks as I took up my spot at a full tub of dishes. Those non-existent butterflies were back, and try as I might to explain to them that Rory was nothing but a business arrangement, the fucking things kept on flapping until I felt like I was soaring.

  Chapter 7

  Rory

  Gage controlled the puck and headed toward the goal, the opposing team’s enforcer, Mathison, zeroing in on his back as he took off after him. Big fucking mistake. Coach had pulled me off the bench and gave me the green light to play my heart out in this game.

  I raced across the ice and crashed into the shithead just as he jerked his stick in front of Gage’s skate. The punk went down so hard his helmet smacked off the ice with an audible crack, but Gage barely missed a beat, regained his footing and passed the puck to Warren who shot it in for a goal to tie up the score.

  “Fuck yeah!” I screamed, fist bumping Gage’s glove and then Warren’s as we rounded the ice for the next faceoff. The crowd roared, fueling me with the kind of adrenaline that only hockey could give me.

  The Blackhawks—damn them—held their ground, their goalie blocking two more attempts. Sweat soaked everything underneath my gear, pushed harder than I had in weeks. That was the thing about this game; the second Coach said I couldn’t play it, only made me want it that much more. I shredded the ice, knocking players into the boards, on their backs, and anywhere an opportunity presented itself. No one was getting at one of my guys, not today.

  The breath was cold and quick in my lungs as I flew across the ice, slamming a guy into the boards before he could do the same to Warren. As the ref called offsides, the whistle blowing so we could faceoff at the blueline, a flash of red hair caught my eye. I looked up at the glass and nearly fell on my ass. It was a rare occasion that I’d seen Paige outside of her usual business attire, but seeing her in my jersey? Holy fucking shit it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. And it wasn’t like there weren’t fourteen other puck bunnies wearing the same number in the stands because there was. It just looked ten times hotter on Paige.

  Was that because we’d struck a deal? Because she’d been off limits until recently? Because she was out of my league in too many ways to count? Or was it because ever since I’d gotten that first taste of her in the penthouse, she was all I could think about? Her scent filled my head even though it’d been two days since I’d seen her last. Her laugh echoed in my ears despite the action of the game surrounding me. The woman was under my skin all the ways I’d never thought would happen and I hadn’t even fucked her yet.

  “Rory!” Gage shouted, snapping me out of thoughts. “Get your fucking head in the game!” He pointed at a defenseman going after one of our wings, and I bolted toward him, barely stopping him before he got our guy on his back.

  Fuck. Lock it up, man!

  Paige wasn’t the first gorgeous woman to show up to watch me play. Hell no. Beautiful women went hand and hand with being a Shark. Not once had I ever let any of them distract me and yet one glimpse of Paige and I was out of position and out of my fucking mind.

  I flexed every single one of the muscles I spent hours at the gym sculpting, pushing myself harder than ever, forcing myself to focus on the game and ignore the redhead in the stands. I swore I could hear her screaming my name over anyone else in the crowd, but that was impossible. Fuck, I was in trouble.

  Smack! Another goon bashed against the boards, dropping to the ice after my bone-crushing hit. I grunted, adjusting my mouthguard that had come loose underneath my helmet. In the two seconds it took to move it in place, I glanced upward where I knew she was in the stands. I just wanted a glimpse of that fiery hair, those emerald eyes…the man chatting her up as he stood over her in the aisle. Motherfucker was leaning…coming on to my woman. A rage I was all too familiar with bubbled near the surface, the urge to leap the boards and let the guy know who the fuck he was talking to, battled in my head.

  “Jackson!” Coach yelled this time, and my head snapped around, following his angry face to his jerking hand motioning toward the opposite end of the ice. Before I could skate two inches Gage had been taken down so hard I fucking winced. The player stole the puck while Gage tried to recover, and shot it in for a goal. The buzzer sounded at the same time the lamp lit, the sound shoving my heart to the bottom of my gut as the game ended 3-2.

  I skidded to a stop near Gage. “Fuck, man is your shoulder okay?”

  Gage ripped his helmet off, skating toward the bench. “Fine.” His sharp tone told me to leave him the fuck alone, so I did.

  My stomach rolled during the end-of-game niceties. How the fuck had I ju
st let that happen?

  “Damn, Rory, what the hell?” Warren asked when we’d made it back to the locker room.

  “I—”

  “Jackson!” Coach yelled before I could get an answer out. He stomped toward me, and I straightened like he was a four-star general. “What happened out there? You leave your brain in the fucking clouds?”

  “No, sir.”

  “You hungover?”

  “No, sir. I haven’t had a drop since last week!” I took a deep breath, clenching my hands into fists, so I didn’t snap. He had the right to be pissed. I’d gotten distracted and lost us the game.

  “You better pray a story doesn’t come out about you getting smashed at a bar last night because I will bench you the rest of the season, do you understand? Own up to your shit before you even think about lying to me.”

  I gave him one nod, holding my ground. It was the truth. I hadn’t even been to a bar since the night before the first charity gala I’d attended for Paige.

  Paige. The guy. Fuck, that is what had distracted me. Even if for only a few moments, I’d been consumed by jealousy enough to cost us the fucking game. I needed to get a grip on my balls before I lost them.

  Coach sighed, the vein throbbing in his forehead turning a less angry shade of purple. “Fine. Next time.” He looked at Gage and Warren who stood silently next to me. “We’ll get them next time.”

  “Fuck yeah, we will,” Warren said.

  “I’ll make sure of it,” I added.

  Coach nodded before stomping back to his office, probably to break something. I hated that my temper was yet again almost costing me the only thing I was ever good at but fuck me it wasn’t like I could control it. I was trying and thought the deal with Paige was going to help. Not once did I think she’d have the power to exacerbate it.

  “What happened?” Gage asked, his tone easier than it had been on the ice.