Enforcer (Seattle Sharks Book 2)

by Samantha Whiskey

  “You aren’t wearing a tie,” Paige said as she stepped onto her front porch, her black pumps clicking against the concrete.

  Damn those shoes. There were too many good memories attached to them—like the spike digging into my back as I buried myself between her thighs—and she knew it. The woman was wicked and had worn them to torture me.

  “Ties are usually only good for one thing, and I doubt there will be a bedpost for me to secure your wrists to at this event.” I smoothed my hands down the all black tux I wore. “Is it mandatory?” I asked after relishing the flush of her cheeks.

  She blinked rapidly before focusing on me. “What? I’m sorry, I was just picturing it.”

  I stepped up to her, wrapping one hand around her waist. Her lips were painted a perfect red that I didn’t dare smear; instead I hovered my mouth just above hers. “That can go on our list.”

  Her breath hitched enough to make her pert breasts graze against my chest. “Maybe we can make an amendment to mine after the event? If you can manage to track down a tie, that is.” She laughed as she closed my mouth that had dropped open.

  I released my hold on her. “Oh, I’ll tear it off someone’s neck if it means you’ll let me strip you bare, tie you up, and use my tongue to make you come until you can’t take it a second more. Can you picture it? Your body quaking from release after release, limp and sated while you relinquish every ounce of control?”

  She gasped but the heat in her eyes told me exactly what I already knew—my redhead was up for anything, as long as it was with me. The notion made my chest puff out a little more than usual. Hell, it had almost been in a permanent prideful position since we’d exchanged I love you’s two weeks ago. Something I never expected would happen to me, let alone me be the first one to say it.

  “We don’t have to go,” I said, watching the heat fill her eyes the longer I held her to me.

  She pushed against my chest, putting enough distance between us to catch the cool breeze of the night air. “We do. Laying low worked, cooling off the heat the press kept putting on us, but now it’s time to remind them of the relationship we have…”

  “And you have something to prove,” I finished for her.

  “I do not.”

  “You’re a terrible liar.” I grinned at her, resolved to take her hand instead of her body.

  “Fine,” she said, allowing me to lead her to the car. “If it means maintaining my forward progression in the company and ensuring my funding for the shelter project, then yes, I want to show the world that I’m yours and it’s not the end of the fucking world.”

  I stopped our movements, my eyes widening at her quick mood shift. It wasn’t the first time she jumped tracks on me in the last couple weeks, and I wondered if she wasn’t being entirely honest about the pressure hitting her at work. I grinned at her, grabbing a handful of her perfect ass. “God I love it when you say that.”

  “Fucking?” She asked, a laugh on her lips.

  I trailed one finger down the line of her jaw. “You’re mine.” Her body shifted closer to me, almost as if a magnet tugged on her core. I called on all the willpower I possessed and kissed the back of her hand. “We leave. Now.”

  She sucked her teeth, snapping out of it. “Right.”

  Twenty minutes later she wove her arm through mine as we entered Mark Chase’s Night For Wounded Warriors event. The rooftop setting marveled that of the Four Season’s gala I’d attended on Paige’s behalf—the memory of that night made me hard just thinking about it. I focused on the view, assuring my dick he’d have his moment with her later. The sun had just set, leaving the sky an inky-blue with hints of stars piercing it. Twinkle lights offered an intimate setting despite the incredibly large space, and waiters casually made their way through the groups of people dressed in their best black-tie attire.

  Grabbing a couple of champagne flutes, I offered one to Paige. She smirked but didn’t bring the drink to her lips.

  “What’s so amusing?” I asked, wincing from the sugary sweetness the champagne left in my mouth. I was always going to be a beer or scotch kind of guy. Something flashed behind her eyes, but she quickly blinked it away before I could register what it had been, if anything at all.

  “I was just thinking I’ve only seen one view better than this.” She motioned toward the skyline, and it took me a minute before the memory hit me. The night I’d brought her to my place and fucked her on my balcony.

  “Is that all you ever think about?” I asked, pretending to be offended. The fact that she wanted me as badly and as often as I wanted her—despite making love almost every day this week—only made me love her that much more.

  She smacked my chest before taking the flute out of my hands. “I’ll hunt you down something stronger.”

  “It’s fine,” I said quickly. I hadn’t had a hard drink in public since the night I’d been arrested for the brawl. The same night of the gala at the Four Seasons. I’d been on my best behavior, and I knew too much liquor only made my already short fuse shorter. Plus, we’d just sailed through playoffs and were on our way to the Stanley Cup. Staying sober seemed responsible. Boring, but responsible.

  Paige reached up and smoothed a crease between my brow. “Relax. I’m here.” She squeezed my hand. “And you’ve killed yourself in the rink all week. You deserve a drink.” She winked, but I didn’t let go of her hand, instead electing to follow her to the bar. Paige was like a lifeline—as long as we stayed connected nothing could touch us, paparazzi or vengeful puck bunnies alike.

  The bar had been stationed before one of the exposed corners of the rooftop—the massive wooden structure decorated with a back-lit ice sculpture depicting the raising of the flag on Iwo Jima. Chase had been a well-known advocate for Wounded Warriors, and it was no surprise he’d sprung for the best at this event—which was one of thirty taking place in various portions of the country throughout the year, or so Paige had told me.

  I’d always liked this organization and made an effort to contribute annually, but this event mattered more to Paige’s father who’d supported the troops and veterans—and made sure their company did as well. I knew it was the main reason she’d asked me to come and maybe that was the explanation behind her quick shifts in mood lately. The pressure to please her father was bigger than ever now that she was publically dating…me. Balancing who she was supposed to be with who she wanted to be—who she really was—was taking a toll.

  “Two fingers of scotch,” Paige asked the tender. “And a water, please.”

  I squeezed her hand. “We have a driver tonight,” I whispered in her ear. “You can indulge too.”

  She laughed, but the sound was tense. “I didn’t drink enough water today. I’ll have one later.”

  I took my offered drink from the tender and slipped a twenty into the crystal vase used for collecting tips. Paige reclaimed my arm, and we weaved through the crowd, stopping each time she needed to mingle with someone. I drank my scotch plus one more and enjoyed watching her work the crowd. The woman never missed an opportunity to make new business acquaintances, and the sharpness of her mind turned me on almost as much as her tenacity for getting me into bed.

  “Rory Jackson,” A slightly familiar voice took my attention off of Paige who spoke to a few people across the rooftop. I turned slightly, finding an Ontario enforcer—one of our biggest rivals and the same team that asshole Adkins played for. I glanced around the area, scanning for his face. It didn’t matter that Gage and Helen had worked their shit out, I still hated Adkins on principal, and he was the last person I wanted to see tonight. Trevor was a close second.

  “Trevor,” I said, finishing the scotch in my glass. “Adkins with you tonight?” The muscles in my shoulders tensed as I waited for him to answer.

  “No, he and the trophy wife are off buying diamonds or some shit.”

  A fraction of the tension coiling my muscles relaxed.

  “Rory?” Paige’s voice came at me as she returned to her spot by my side. Sh
e took my empty glass and handed me a fresh one. I instantly took a large gulp.

  The silence between the three of us bordered on awkward as I waited for Trevor to leave now that he’d made his presence known. “Thanks,” I finally said to Paige, who stood rigid next to me as her eyes jumped between Trevor and me.

  “Red is a new color for you, Jackson.” He pointed to Paige with the long-neck in his hand. “Thought you liked the blonde bunnies.”

  Instinctively my fist clenched tightly around the glass in my hand, his slow gaze lingering a little too long on Paige. I opened my mouth, but Paige’s response cut me off.

  “Oh,” she said. “You’re Trevor Hewitt. Ontario’s enforcer. Sorry about your loss last week. Must’ve been rough.”

  I smirked and fell a little more in love with her if that was possible.

  Trevor had the gall to look impressed. “She’s smart too? Now that is really off the mark for you, Jackson.”

  I shifted my weight, his tone making my skin itch. “We’re not all prone to the senseless, Hewitt.”

  “Since when?” He took another swig of his beer, his lazy gaze falling on Paige again. “Don’t let him fool you, sweetheart. Not three months ago he was plowing through a haystack of traveling bunnies and tossing them like used cups.”

  “Still sore about that beatdown I gave you then?” Every muscle I had flexed. “A little petty to goad me at a charity event. Save it for the game. I’ll remind you how my fist feels then.” I made my tone as sharp as a razor, my chest tightening from the ache in my bones to knock the greedy look off his face as he kept ogling Paige.

  She tugged on my arm. “Come with me, will you? I’m dying to show you this ice sculpture,” she said, clearly giving me a free out from the heated situation. We’d already seen the sculpture, but I turned to follow her. We stopped at a clear space near the bar, and she reached up to cup my face.

  “Rory, look at me,” she said, and I locked onto her emerald green eyes. “Remember why we’re here?”

  I nodded, breathing deep but not enough to squash the adrenaline in my blood.

  “And you remember what I want to do afterward?” she smirked at me. “We can’t do that unless you’re a good boy.”

  A smile finally cracked my tight lips, and I sighed, trailing a finger down her cheek. “You’re wicked, Red. Smart, but wicked.”

  “Just as you like it,” she whispered, slipping her hand beneath my tux jacket and rubbing her palm across my abs. I closed my eyes, leaning my forehead against hers as I often did to calm my raging nerves. Something about Paige always kept me grounded whenever I felt like I was going off the rails.

  After a moment she jolted underneath me, turning around as if someone had tapped her on the shoulder. “Yes?” She asked, a hint of annoyance in her tone.

  “I forgot to give you something, sweetheart.” Trevor’s gaze didn’t leave mine as he handed Paige a business card with a hand written number on it. “For when he’s licked your flavor clean. Never seen a bunny hold his interest beyond a night. You must be…talented.” He cut his eyes to Paige for a moment before bringing them back to me. “The second you realize Jackson is useless know that I’d love to discover just how talented you are.”

  The energy shifted in the atmosphere around me. He’d hit upon two of my biggest triggers—calling me useless and hitting on Paige.

  One second I’d swam in the calm waters that Paige’s presence surrounded me in. The next I was a maelstrom seeing red. I launched at Hewitt as if we were on the ice, and sent him crashing straight through the sculpture we’d been pretending to look at moments ago. It shattered in huge chunks both behind and in front of the bar.

  I dove on top of Hewitt, laying into him with a right hook he should have memorized from our past games—but this wasn’t to prevent a goal, this was to prove a point. No one spoke to Paige like that. Ever. Hewitt managed a crack at my jaw, but I recovered quicker than he could blink, landing another blow hard enough to make him limp. I pulled my fist back, readying for another punch to be sure he got the message.

  “Rory Jackson!” The sharp tone of Paige’s voice was the only thing capable of jerking me out of myself. I snapped out of it, slowly returning to reality, one where I hadn’t even registered the group of younger guys surrounding us with their phones out and cameras rolling. Fuck, this would hit the media in minutes.

  I pushed off the floor, craning my neck until I found her—along with the entire party—staring at me. The hurt in her eyes crushed the center of my chest harder than any physical blow could. She looked at me like I’d betrayed her and the sight made me want to drop to my fucking knees before her.

  “Paige—”

  She held her hand up to stop me, smoothing the lines of her dress as security rushed passed her. They hefted Hewitt off the floor.

  “Just a misunderstanding, gentlemen.” Hewitt swiped at some blood on the corner of his mouth. “No need to cause more of a scene. I’ll cover the damages.” He glanced at the crowd. “Sorry about that, folks. Little anxious to get back in the rink with this one, seeing as we’ll be going against each other for the Stanley Cup in a couple weeks.” He gestured to me, but I only spared him a glance before I returned focus to Paige. While he was cleaning up my mess—saying all the things I should’ve—I was watching the light go out behind Paige’s eyes.

  She finally broke our locked eyes, shaking her head as she walked inside the building, holding her grace, her composure, because apparently I fucking couldn’t. For a second I hesitated, my muscles locked from adrenaline. Then I ran, chased after her faster than when I was on the ice. I grabbed her arm outside the elevator bank, spinning her to face me.

  “Paige—”

  “Don’t.” She cut me off again. Tears were in her eyes, and she held her stomach as she took a deep breath.

  I’d made her sick.

  She opened her mouth to speak but jolted again, and I did too as my cell buzzed in my pocket. Where she reached for hers, I stood absolutely still, silently begging her to forgive me.

  She clenched her eyes shut after reading the message on her screen, the motion forcing the tears to roll down her cheeks. “I could’ve handled Trevor on my own,” she said. “I didn’t need the macho crap.”

  “I know,” I said. “I can’t control it. Sometimes—”

  “I know. Trust me.” She stepped toward me, placing a small kiss on my lips. “I fell in love you with you, Rory. Every part of you.” More tears as she slipped her phone back into her small purse. “But you just cost me everything.”

  She could’ve hit me in the gut with a sledgehammer, and I would’ve been in less pain than I was in that instant. The tightrope across my chest cinched, threatening to crack my bones. I didn’t need to see the screen to know what was on it. Her father’s vow...my actions...she’d just lost her company.

  I parted my lips, searching for the right words. Words that would win me her heart—her trust—back. Another bucket of ice water crashed over my head, turning my blood cold.

  She’d needed me to be man enough to restrain myself unless the situation desperately called for it and tonight’s did it. How many other nights would there be where I did this to her?

  Fuck.

  A sharp twinge wracked my insides like I’d drank nothing but pure acid all night.

  Paige deserved better than this. Better than me. She always had. And I was the dumbass for thinking I was strong enough to give it to her.

  “Rory…” she said my name with a tear stained voice. “Let’s go—”

  “No.” I was the one to cut her off this time. I clenched my eyes shut, giving myself a moment to find the mask I needed to do right by her. After a few seconds, I opened my eyes and looked at her like she was any bunny from my past I wanted to get rid of. “You go. I don’t need this hassle.”

  She flinched as if I’d slapped her, her hand once again flying to her stomach.

  Good. She should be disgusted with me.

  “What?” Anger fla
shed behind her wet eyes.

  I shrugged, the motion more painful than knowing I would never touch her again. “This was fun and all, but I’m done being your go-to bad-boy for a fucking list.”

  “You don’t mean that,” she said, sucking in a stuttered breath.

  I turned my back on her, unable to hold the casual mask with her eyes on me. My resolve shook when she reached out and touched my shoulder. I was seconds away from breaking, from dropping the act and being the selfish asshole who stayed with her just to ruin her some more.

  “I’ve lost everything tonight, already,” she whispered. “Don’t make me lose you, too.”

  She’d lost her dream, her company, because of me. I’d known the terms her father had placed upon her once she’d started a relationship with me—I’d known them and still fucking slipped. I jerked out from underneath her touch, glancing over my shoulder with eyes I hoped were as cold as ice. She took a few steps away from me like she’d just happened upon a stranger…a dangerous stranger.

  “Can’t lose what you never had, Red.”

  A tiny gasp and one more tear. One more slice to the heart I never knew I had.

  Then she straightened her spine, shifting from wounded bird to fearsome lioness in an instant. She gave me one nod and backed into the elevator, never losing my eyes until the doors slid closed, taking the only woman I ever loved away from me for good.

  Chapter 16

  Paige

  “Paige, won’t you reconsider merely taking a small leave of absence?” My father paced in front of my desk as I packed some of the more important items away in the box I had on top of it. “I was too harsh last night. I should’ve waited to speak to you in person.”

  I cut my eyes to him, battling the anger I had inside. I couldn’t decide which was worse, that I understood his actions from a business standpoint, or that I felt beyond betrayed as his daughter? I couldn’t have it both ways, but even as I stood there, contemplating how best to professionally handle the situation, I knew where my heart lied.