Enforcer (Seattle Sharks Book 2)

by Samantha Whiskey

  “Let me take you home,” Rory said as we walked out of the building. The sun hung low in the sky fighting the good fight before night claimed it.

  My heart fluttered in my chest, the same damn way it had every time he’d spoken to me since I realized I’d fallen for him. “All right,” I said and waved off my driver.

  The ride to my place was silent save for the few times Rory complimented me on my eye for details. It was like I didn’t have a clue how to act around him now that my heart had latched on to the one man I’d basically hired to use for sex.

  For God’s sake, he’s not a prostitute. It was a mutually agreed upon contracted relationship, not a porn. Well, it did have some of the better aspects of porn, but still. I should have known this was going to happen. I’d had a crush on the man for years, and now he was here, with me, and so much better than anything I could have ever imagined.

  I clenched my eyes shut, breathing a sigh of relief when Rory’s driver pulled us up to my house. “Thank you again for showing up today, Rory. It was above and beyond.” And totally pushed me over the damn ledge I’d teetered on with my feelings for you.

  “You don’t want me to come in?” He asked, climbing out of the car behind me.

  I floundered around in my own head before I found my voice. “Of course I do. It’s just…I’m all dirty and—”

  He cut my words off with a kiss, his tongue slipping inside my mouth like he’d always belonged there. I immediately melted into his embrace, forgetting about all the reasons I shouldn’t—like how much of a hot sweat-soaked mess I was or how he was stealing my heart instead of striking off items on a list.

  “Let’s get wet,” he said, smacking my butt as he walked passed me toward my front door.

  I gaped after him, my heart racing in my chest from his kiss. I unlocked the door and led him to the master bath in my bedroom. He closed the door behind me, locking it as if someone could waltz in at any moment. Or perhaps he was worried I’d run and wanted to keep me there. Both weren’t going to happen. Rory didn’t need bolts to keep me, hell, all he had to do was ask, and I’d truly be his in a heartbeat. But what was I thinking? The man was performing his contractual obligations well, and that’s all.

  “I can’t believe you wore those heels,” he said, eyeing my pumps again. “I want to make a rule here and now. You’re never allowed to wear those to a game, okay? They kill me.” He hissed, slipping his hands underneath the hem of my T and pulling it over my head.

  “Am I allowed to come back to a game?” I asked, the notion shocking me with excitement. I hadn’t wanted to distract him ever again, but damn did I love to watch him play.

  He scrunched his eyebrows at me. “I want you in the stands.”

  “You do?” The hopefulness in my tone was so obvious I was shocked he didn’t pick up on it.

  “Hell yes. I won’t fuck up again. Well, I won’t as long as you don’t wear these.” He tugged each pump off before sliding me out of my jeans. I took my time peeling his clothes off, relishing the way his rock hard muscles felt underneath my fingertips.

  “Deal,” I finally said when I’d stripped him bare. I reached inside my shower and turned it to hot, popping the clasp of my bra after I was finished. A quick drop of my panties—which earned me a growl from Rory—and I stepped in.

  The warm drops of water hit my skin and soothed the tense muscles underneath. When Rory’s hands gently gripped my hips, my body coiled for an entirely new reason. I turned around to face him, suddenly beyond grateful I’d bought a house with a massive stand up marble shower. I had often thought it was a tad too big for only me but with Rory’s large frame in front of me, I knew it was worth it. He seemed to do that with every facet of my life—find the big, empty spaces and consume them until everything felt just right.

  He smiled down at me, lightly teasing my skin as the water rolled over us both. Reaching over me, he grabbed the bottle of lavender body wash I had on the shelf and squirted a mountain in his hand. Rubbing his hands together, he quickly created a lather which he immediately smoothed over my skin.

  “So,” he said, working his hands up and down my body like he’d memorized it. “Is this on your list?”

  I sucked in a deep breath, gathering some of the suds and swiping them across his chest. Damn the man was cut like he was carved out of the same marble as the shower. “No,” I said, sliding my hands across his lickable V lines. “But I’m starting to think it should’ve been number one.”

  He chuckled, the sound igniting my insides as much as his touch. A moan escaped my lips when he threaded his fingers through my hair, his body close enough I could feel the hardness of his cock against me.

  “Can I see it yet?” He asked, his tone slightly gravelly.

  I bit my lip and shook my head.

  “Come on,” he begged. “Give me something.”

  A deeper blush than I thought possible flushed my entire body.

  Rory tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. “How are you embarrassed? You think there is something you could throw at me that I couldn’t handle?”

  I pressed my lips together to hold back a laugh. “Not a chance.” I had every confidence Rory could check off all the items left on my list within a matter of days if I asked him to.

  “Hey,” he said when I’d dropped my eyes once again. “What is it?” He wrapped a soapy arm around my hip, pulling me against him.

  I wanted to tell him the truth. Wanted to say I couldn’t stop falling for him, that I’d already fallen too hard, and I was scared to death of what would happen to my heart when our arrangement was up.

  “Paige,” he said before I could find the courage to say a word. “I’m here. With you. And there isn’t a thing on that list of yours that you should be embarrassed over. In fact, I think you’d be surprised how far I’m willing to go to make you happy.” He teased between my thighs with his hard length, and my eyes rolled back in my head. “Tell me.”

  Forcing my brain to work, I mentally scanned the list for the easiest number available. A lightbulb clicked, and my eyes darted through the glass shower door to the huge mirror in my bathroom. I smiled timidly up at Rory as I stepped further under the water to rinse off, pulling him along with me. Shutting the water off, I handed him a towel as I dried myself off, but didn’t bother putting clothes on.

  He arched an eyebrow at me, and I motioned toward the mirror. He looked at our reflection in the glass and then back to me before it registered in his eyes. “Ah,” he said, smirking as he dropped his towel. He licked his lips. “I love the way your mind works.”

  The heat in my cheeks doubled, but I held his gaze. He closed the distance between us, pushing some wet strands of my hair behind my ear.

  “Turn around.” He ordered and the dominant tone—so different from the soft and playful one he’d used seconds ago—awoke any senses that weren’t already firing at full capacity.

  I took a second too long to do what I was told, and he spun me around, so I faced the large mirror over my bathroom countertop. Heat blazed between my thighs as he pushed me from behind until my hips pressed against the marble. With one strong hand splayed across my back, he gave me a gentle nudge until I was leaning with my elbows on the cold surface. His knees brushed the back of my legs as he bent slightly over me, never losing my gaze in the mirror.

  “I want you to watch me fuck you.” His blue eyes were molten, and an ache wrenched itself low in my belly. He cupped my breasts as he kissed the back of my neck, down my spine, and back up again before he teased my wet center with the tip of his cock.

  I gripped the countertop to keep from turning into a puddle but quickly moved to help guide him in, to put an end to his teasing.

  He spun me back around, shaking his finger. “No. You watch.”

  His demand, paired with the full blasting light in the bathroom, turned up the intensity of the moment, though I didn’t know how that was possible. The muscles in his abdomen flexed as he moved behind me and good Lord h
e was more glorious in this light than he had been in his loft. Nothing was hidden in the view in the mirror, and I couldn’t help the wetness that slicked my thighs at the sight of his control over my body.

  I tossed my hair over my shoulder, fully submitting to him as he rubbed his hands over my bare back. His thumbs worked over my hips, teasing with their proximity to my aching pussy. I arched my back, moving against his cock, trying to somehow draw it inside me without my hands.

  Rory growled. “So fucking wet already.”

  I reached around and grabbed his hip, urging him closer. His wicked smirk had me wanting to spin around and demand he get inside me before I burst, but he quickly slid his free hand around me, stroking my clit with just enough pressure to make me buck backward against him.

  “Rory,” I begged.

  “Say it.”

  A thrill rushed through me, hot and pulsing. I knew from our night at his place what he needed—confirmation I wanted him as badly as possible.

  “Fuck me already,” I begged, knowing it turned him on that much more when I dropped the F-bomb.

  He slammed inside me, all while keeping his fingers expertly massaging my clit, and the combination was perfection. I coiled inside, the pleasure hitting a crescendo as he thrust inside me over and over. I arched my head back and closed my eyes, my orgasm on the tip of his cock, but he froze.

  “Eyes open, Red.”

  I snapped them open, locking onto to his molten-blue gaze in the mirror. “Watch me make you come.”

  Holy shit, the mouth on this man.

  I clenched around him and bucked against his hand. I couldn’t help but notice how wild my own eyes were, or how delicious he looked behind me, inside me. He fit so well, rocking within me in the perfect rhythm. He relinquished control of my hip, grabbed my breast, and pinched my nipple at the same time as he did my clit with his other hand.

  “Oh, God, Rory!” I gasped, the pleasure hitting me in a hard wave that crashed inside me, forcing trembles to wrack my body. He held me steady, his eyes locked onto mine in the mirror, watching me shake with ecstasy as he made good on his promise.

  I sucked in a few deep breaths, recovering quickly as he continued to thrust. In a fast motion, I shoved him away enough for him to slip outside and for me to spin around. I hopped up onto the counter, bracing my hands on the edge for leverage.

  “Your turn.” I opened my legs, beckoning him back inside. He complied, the sweet motion of his reentry igniting all my already over-sensitive nerves again.

  I locked my ankles around his waist and took control of the pace by squeezing my thighs around him. I rocked him in and out of me so hard, and so fast he didn’t know what hit him—the shock evident in his wide, hot gaze which shifted from me to the mirror behind me.

  His cock grew harder within my walls, and he gripped my ass, pumping against me to match my pace. That sweet pressure grew, spiraling low in my belly. A low growl escaped his mouth, and I moaned in response, another orgasm shaking my core as he came inside me.

  I continued to ride him, working myself slowly down until I only slightly trembled against him. He pressed his forehead against my breasts, his hot breaths coming in ragged gasps against my skin.

  Wrapping my arms around him, I held him to me, not wanting to let go, relishing the quiet moments after being so incredibly high. It didn’t get any better than this. I knew that, now. Nothing would ever match how Rory could successfully push me to the edge; I just couldn’t help but selfishly want him to crash over it with me.

  Chapter 11

  Rory

  “Finally get your shit together, old man?” Bentley—the rookie still vying for Gage’s spot on the team—checked my shoulder as he skated passed me.

  “Watch your mouth, kid. Wouldn’t want to be forced to make an example out of you.” I eyed him from under my helmet as we warmed up on the ice before the game. Today’s game was important, and I wasn’t letting that little shit in my head.

  “Doubt that.” The kid skated within an inch of my face. “In fact, it’s been what? Four weeks since your last good brawl? I bet you’re fucking dying for a fight.”

  Adrenaline surged in my blood, the old sensation I was much too familiar with—the one that ended fights, not started them. “You itching for a beating, Bentley? Didn’t peg you for a submissive but hell, what you do off the ice is your own business.” Gage skidded to a stop beside me. “Find someone else,” I continued.

  Bentley laughed. “That’s right, I forgot. Your new chick put your balls on a keychain she keeps in her purse. Tell me, did she split them with Coach?”

  I clenched my hand into a fist, ready to fly at him but the idea of the backlash for myself and Paige stopped me. Gage was in front of me before I could make a move, but it wasn’t necessary. He tilted his head. “You good, bro?”

  “Fuck yeah,” I said, eyeing Bentley. “Little boy knows he can’t fuck with you anymore. I’m the next best choice.”

  “Always second best,” Gage joked, spinning toward Bentley. “Time to get off the ice, kid. The big boys are about to play.”

  I hissed, laughing as Bentley slowly skated backward toward the bench. “Damn, Rory. You used to be counted on for a good scrap. Now you’re just as whipped as Gage.” He spun and entered the box, shaking his head.

  Keeping pace with Gage, we circled the ice, and I scanned the stands. “I’m not as whipped as you,” I said.

  “Keep telling yourself that.” Gage bumped me with his shoulder. “Who you looking for again?”

  I snapped my eyes back to him and the smug grin on his face. “Fuck you. I’m not.”

  “Uh huh.”

  The argument was right there and ready in my head, but it wasn’t the truth. Even if I wanted to lie to myself, I couldn’t. Paige had me completely wrapped around the same pretty polished finger she used to sign multi-million dollar deals. I was ready to do whatever she asked at the drop of a hat and found myself dying for the next item on her list.

  After the night in her bathroom—where the hot as hell mirror action had taken me to an entirely new level of fucking—she’d slowly started letting me know more numbers she needed help crossing off. She’d told me number one last night, which was sex in public. I didn’t have a clue how I was going to manage that one while also ensuring she didn’t get caught—the press backlash would ruin her name, regardless if we were in a relationship or not—but I was damn sure going to make it happen.

  A thought hit me as I finally spotted a mess of red hair in the stands—I liked her there. I liked the idea of her being there to watch me. And I liked the idea of her being mine. Really mine, not just a definition in a timed contract. Maybe Bentley wasn’t far off the mark, despite his prick status. Maybe I was whipped.

  Shit. When did that happen?

  My best guess was somewhere between the balcony where she’d said she trusted me, to the bathroom where she submitted fully to my demands right before taking the reins and giving me the best orgasm of my life.

  Fuck, head in the game.

  I focused on the ice, on the opponents, and tuned out every other thought. There would be plenty of time for that shit later. Now I needed to show Coach that I was still Rory fucking Jackson.

  Knowing she was up there watching me? I’d never played better.

  We beat them in a shutout, and there wasn’t a goon on the opposing team that wouldn’t be sore tonight, not after what I’d done to them. It felt fucking great, too. At least on the ice, I could give in to the instincts that always bubbled near the surface with me and not catch shit for it—it’s why I was the best enforcer the Sharks had. And with Paige’s help, my nighttime brawls had been whittled down to zero. Turned out, when there was something at stake more important than just my ass, I could contain my short fuse just a little bit better. Or maybe it was because it was Paige that I gave a damn in the first place.

  “Rory!” Coach shouted in the locker room, calling me into his office. I scrubbed my freshly showered hair with a d
ry towel as I hovered in his doorway.

  “Yeah?”

  “You did good out there today.”

  “Thanks, Coach.”

  “You’ve been doing well off the ice too,” he said, pointing to a picture he had up on his Mac on his desk. The shot was one of Paige and me outside the location for her future shelter—both covered in grime but grinning at each other like idiots. Thick bold lettering made up the headline: Rory Jackson steals wholesome heart of Paige Turner.

  Damn, we’re really selling it.

  I swallowed hard as Coach turned back toward me. “This change in you. Is it her?”

  I nodded.

  “I get that. There is something about a good woman who will turn us into the men we were always meant to be. And you were meant for more than bar brawls and bed-hopping.”

  Fuck, when did Coach become my father?

  He cleared his throat. “Anyway. Keep it up.”

  “Will do, Coach.” I turned to leave, but he called to stop me. I glanced at him over my shoulder.

  “I’m proud of you,” he said and then waved me off like I had knocked on his fucking door for the heart to heart.

  “What are you laughing about?” Gage asked, slipping his duffle over his shoulder.

  “Nothing, man.” I tossed the now wet towel in an overflowing hamper and tugged a white T over my head.

  “Poker tonight?” He asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said, grabbing my bag from my locker. “I’ll have to check with Paige.”

  “See,” Bentley blurted out beside us. “Fucking whipped.”

  Gage narrowed his eyes and whirled on him. “Dude, you’re being like twenty times more annoying than usual. Did you just get dumped? Is that why you can’t keep your mouth shut or are you simply hunting for pain?”

  Bentley cowered in Gage’s massive presence and held his hands up. “Whatever man. I’m out of here.” He ducked his head and bolted out of the locker room.