Down to Puck (Buffalo Tempest Hockey Book 2)

by Sylvia Pierce

  “Speaking of getting licked by your favorite hockey star…” He pulled her into his lap, brushing the hair back from her face, staring intently at her mouth. The look in his eyes said it all: If she said the word, he’d have her on that pool table again, his face between her thighs, his hot mouth on her flesh…

  Bex couldn’t believe how wet she was again. One look from Henny, and she went from zero to throw-me-down-and-fuck-my-brains-out in three seconds flat.

  But at the moment, she needed those brains. It really was getting late. Nico would be there soon to start prepping the kitchen, and Bex had a lot of work to do before they opened for the night.

  “Henny,” she protested, feeling like a traitor to her own body, “I’ve got things to do here, and you need to get your ass into bed. You need to rest before you hit the ice again.”

  “Sorry. All I heard was ass and bed, and my mind went somewhere else. Like back to your bed. Where we can go right now and spend the rest of the afternoon discovering all the ways I can make you come.”

  Bex closed her eyes, her mouth watering. God, how she’d love to take him up on that offer, take him home where they could strip each other bare, take their time exploring every naked inch. “You are such a cheater, Kyle Henderson.”

  “Don’t hate the player, hate the—”

  “Hey frat boy?” She slid out of his lap and stood before him, looping her arms around his neck. “Let me stop you right there, cheese ball. You sound like Logan Jennings.”

  “Don’t diss Logan. I owe that guy a drink. He’s the reason I ended up with such a hot fiancée.” Henny hooked his fingers in the waistband of her leggings, his knuckles brushing her belly.

  “Oh, yes. He’s a real prince among men.”

  “Long as he’s not your prince, I don’t give a fuck what you call him.” Henny dipped his fingers lower, brushing over the lace edge of her panties. “On second thought, forget the bedroom. I think we need another round on that table. I forgot to call my shots last time—doesn’t count.”

  “That’s convenient.”

  “My mouth, your belly.” He lifted the hem of her sweatshirt, then kissed her stomach, his tongue swirling around her bellybutton, turning her legs into jelly again. She ached with pleasure, her hips arching toward him, seeking the delicious friction of his touch as he slid his hand down the front of her panties. “My fingers,” Henny said, “your gorgeous pus—”

  “Game over, lover boy.” Bex grabbed his hand and backed away, saving herself from what was bound to be another marathon session. As much as she wanted to give in, she really couldn’t. Too much work, not enough time. “Nico’s coming in, and I’ve got citrus to prep, and you are not heading back to the ice without getting some sleep first.”

  “Fine.” Henny sighed, pressing a kiss to her palm. “You owe me a rematch.”

  Bex looped her arms around his neck again. “You’re not pouting, are you?”

  “This is not a pout.”

  “Pretty sure it is.” She kissed him, nibbling playfully on his bottom lip. “A nice one at that.”

  “Nice? What happened to super hot?”

  “Time to go, super hot.” She pulled him up to his feet, lingering a few extra moments in his embrace. She wouldn’t be able to make the game tonight, but she loved the idea of sleeping in the same bed together, waking up naked in each other’s arms, and actually remembering what happened.

  “I have to do the liquor inventory tonight,” she said. “Fee’s closing, but if you want to stop by after the game, I’ll wait for you. Sound like a plan?”

  “I’ve got a better one. Here’s how it’s gonna go.” He reached into his pocket for his keys, pulled the house key off the ring, and handed it over. “I get home from the game and find you in my bed.” He kissed her mouth. “Naked.” Her neck. “Wet.” Her ear. “And ready for that rematch.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “God, I love your morning face.” Henny leaned against his bedroom doorframe in a pair of sweats, a mug of fresh-brewed coffee in each hand, unable to tear his eyes from the beautiful woman waking up in his bed.

  They’d survived their first night together—really together. After yesterday’s insanely hot pool table adventure, Henny kept waiting for the awkwardness to kick in. The regrets on both sides. The “what have we done” wrecking ball to crash through their perfect little bubble.

  But it never did, and when he raced home after the game last night, he’d found her as he’d hoped—naked, in his bed, more than ready to pick up where they’d left off in the bar.

  Bex yawned and stretched, sitting up against the headboard and tucking the sheet under her arms, offering a bright smile. Her eyes were still half-closed, her curls fucking everywhere.

  He could not stop staring at her.

  “You’ve seen it before,” she said.

  “Let me rephrase: God, I love your post-sex-with-me morning face.”

  Bex laughed. “You’ve seen that before, too.”

  “No, I’ve seen your post-sex, hungover, totally-freaked-the-fuck-out morning face. As well as your post-sex, I-can’t-believe-this-pool-table-didn’t-collapse-underneath-us afternoon face. Completely different categories of sex face.” He handed over her coffee—no sugar, just a splash of milk—and sat down next to her, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “This face? I could get used to this face. In fact, this whole scenario is looking pretty damn good to me.”

  Bex took a sip from the mug, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the coffee. He realized now she’d always done that—at home, at his place, in a café, even on road trips with the shittiest gas station coffee—wrapping her hands around the cup, inhaling the scent, that first sip lingering in her mouth a few seconds. For Henny, coffee was a kick start. For Bex, a whole fucking experience.

  Just like everything she did. Bex didn’t know the meaning of half-assed.

  Add that to the list of things he loved about this girl. Why had it taken him so long to make a move? To even consider it? Now that she was here in his bed, naked, sharing this tiny everyday moment with him, Henny wondered how he could’ve missed it before.

  She was fucking breathtaking. And the best part? No small talk, no fakery, no masks. Thanks to their friendship, they could skip all the bullshit of trying to impress each other. Henny and Bex already knew each other, heart and soul.

  Not to mention body…

  Henny grinned. He couldn’t believe what a lucky bastard he was.

  “Promise me breakfast in bed next time,” she said, “and I’ll sleep over every night. Also, you need some new mugs.” She held up the plain white mug, one of a set of four he’d picked up at some big box store when he moved in. They were the only mugs he owned. “These things have zero personality.”

  “Done and done.” He kissed her shoulder, her neck, drinking her in. She was damn lucky, too—lucky he was giving her a chance to enjoy the coffee before his dick started calling the shots. “Hurry up with that coffee, though. Can’t promise I’ll keep my hands off you much longer.”

  “If I’m going to be waking up in your bed on a regular basis, we need to get something straight. No rushing coffee.” Raising the mug to her lips again, Bex closed her eyes and sipped.

  Henny was mesmerized, taking in every detail, all the little things he’d noticed but hadn’t given much thought to in the past. The blush in her cheeks, the sweep of her dark lashes, the arch of her eyebrows, the tangle of auburn hair floating around her face, the spray of California freckles on her shoulders that hadn’t quite faded.

  He wished he didn’t have practice today. He’d much rather spend the afternoon mapping those freckles with his tongue…

  “Hey, what happened with the PR meeting?” Bex asked, the interruption keeping his rapidly-hardening cock in check. “I didn’t get a chance to ask last night.”

  “Nothing that couldn’t have been handled with a five-minute phone call.” Henny set his mug on the night table. “Management wants us to start making oursel
ves quote unquote ‘more accessible’ to the fans. They think it’ll make us seem more like upstanding citizens and less like drunken meatheads.”

  Bex raised a brow. “Define accessible.”

  “Fundraisers, hockey clinics for kids, shit like that.” Henny winked, sliding his hand under the sheet, brushing his fingers along her upper thigh. “Nothing to be jealous about.”

  “Jealous? Ha! I just don’t want them wearing you out before I’ve had my—stop!” Squealing, she did her best to balance the coffee mug as Henny squeezed the top of her thigh. “I’m ticklish!”

  “How did I not find this spot before now?” Henny relaxed his grip, but kept his hand in place. He wasn’t ready to stop touching her. He still wasn’t convinced all of this wasn’t some elaborate hallucination. Had he hit his head on the ice last night?

  “A woman has many secrets, Hen. Even after all these years, you’re still only scratching the surface.”

  “Okay, coffee time is over.” Henny took her mug, setting it on the night table next to his. “I’ve got a burning question, and I’m gonna need an answer right now.”

  Bex rolled her pretty blue eyes. “I can’t wait to hear this.”

  “Morning sex: Hot or not?”

  “Hmm.” Grinning, Bex lowered her gaze to his cock, straining hard now against his sweats. “I can’t answer that until I’ve got all the facts.”

  “You want facts? I’ve got facts for days, baby.” Henny stripped off his sweatpants, then tore that damn sheet right off her body, climbing on top of her. Her warm, supple curves melded against his bare flesh, their bodies fitting together perfectly. Heat radiated from between her thighs, making him even harder.

  She was wet and ready for him again, legs parting easily as he slid inside her. “Deep,” he said, rolling his hips, sliding out, then plunging back in. “Penetrating.” Another thrust. “Hard-hitting.” God, yes. Right there. “Facts.”

  “Kyle…” She whispered his real name—the only woman who’d ever done that, and it drove him fucking wild—already losing herself to the pleasure. Henny could not believe what was happening between them. One drunken night, one kiss, and suddenly two-and-a-half decades of solid, steady friendship ignited into a blaze that made him hot and dizzy.

  Yeah, until you fuck it up and she bails…

  Henny closed his eyes, driving away the thought with another deep thrust, his hands tangling in her soft curls. Bex was the best thing in his life—hell, she always had been. He may have been losing his footing on the ice, pissing off his friends, doubting whether he even belonged in Buffalo anymore. But if there was one thing in his pathetic, screwed-up life he’d always protect and cherish, it was her. It was this.

  Opening his eyes, he found Bex looking up at him through those feathery lashes, her lower lids smudged with yesterday’s eyeliner, her gaze both serene and intense, completely open to him. Trusting. She whispered his name again, pressing her fingertips to his lips, her gaze unwavering. Both of them stilled, their bodies pressed together, breath mingling, hearts banging like drums. Something passed between them, fiery and fragile. Henny didn’t have the words to describe it, but he knew she was sharing something with him then—a soft, vulnerable hope flickering back to life inside her.

  He wanted to fall into those eyes, get lost there forever. It made his heart hurt, his throat tight with emotion he couldn’t explain.

  Holy shit…

  The moment was too much, too raw, too everything-all-at-once. Henny had never experienced anything so intimate. He couldn’t take it. One more second, and his heart would fucking burst.

  Breaking their gaze, he pulled out and flipped her over on the bed, positioning her on her hands and knees. He grabbed the soft flesh around her hips, sliding back into her from behind, burying himself to the hilt. Bex arched her back and moaned, pushing against his thrusts, curls bouncing down her back as Henny lost himself in the feel of her slick, hot flesh.

  Leaning forward, he ran his palm up the curve of her back, kissing the soft skin between her shoulder blades, the nape of her neck, her hair. The sweet taste of her made his mouth water, desperate for more.

  “That’s… right there,” she breathed, her body tightening around his shaft. She was close to the edge now, her legs trembling, skin glowing with a thin sheen of sweat as he straightened up and rocked forward again, plunging back inside, deep and hot and oh-so-fucking-perfect. Everything about this was so damn right.

  They’d side-stepped it for decades. Now, they’d crossed into brand new territory. One night with Bex, and he was just about ready to carve out his heart and surrender.

  Hell yeah, he’d make her breakfast in bed. If she let him, he’d spend every day dreaming up new ways to make her laugh. To make her happy. To keep that flame inside her burning bright.

  He didn’t have the words to tell her all that, though. Not yet. So when he felt the last of his control slipping, felt the hot, familiar tightening in his balls, he took the easy way out, sliding his hand between her thighs, rubbing her clit as he slammed into her from behind, harder, faster, sending them both into blissful fucking overdrive before he spent himself in a final shudder and collapsed on top of her, panting and exhausted, happier than he’d been in years.

  Happier than he’d been ever.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Eva grabbed the bottle of Malbec and topped off their glasses, grinning at Bex across the table. They’d met up after Eva’s Tempest practice at Chop’s Grill, a new pub in Buffalo’s Allentown district that Bex had been eager to check out. The place did not disappoint. It was more upscale than Bex’s cozy neighborhood pub, but the vibe was unpretentious, the food delicious, and the wine selection unique and affordable. Bex found herself taking lots of mental notes for her marketing plan, dreaming up new ideas for Big Laurie’s. By the end of the meal, she was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn’t realized Eva was talking until she heard her friend’s warm, jovial laughter.

  “Sorry,” Bex said, blinking away the daze. “I’ve got work on the brain. What were you saying?”

  “Oh, nothing much.” Eva smirked, reaching for her glass. “Just that Henny’s been playing like a rock star lately, smiling like an idiot, and walking around like a man who’s really making the most of his free time. Don’t suppose you know anything about the sudden improvement in his mood?”

  “Wow,” Bex said, scooping up a forkful of the peanut butter cheesecake they’d decided to share. “We made it all the way to dessert before you started the third degree.”

  “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

  Bex swallowed the velvety-smooth cheesecake, wondering why her mother had never considered chocolate peanut-butter menu items for Big Laurie’s. Add that to the list of things to fix when the place is finally mine…

  “Fess up,” Eva said. “This is a safe space.”

  Laughing, Bex gave a playful shrug. “Why are you asking me about Henny’s game?”

  “Hmm. Maybe because you’re wearing the same guilty, wanton look he’s been wearing lately?” Eva cracked up, clearly enjoying this. “You two are so busted. Spill it.”

  “A lady never kisses and tells.”

  “Good thing we’re not ladies.”

  Bex laughed again, stealing another bite of cheesecake. Since they’d started hanging out, Eva had been the one with all the red-hot stories; Walker’s athletic prowess apparently extended well beyond the rink. Now that Bex had a few stories of her own, she was more than a little out of her element.

  It’d only been a few weeks since she and Henny had “leveled up” on the pool table, but she’d already lost count of all the places they’d done it since then. In his bed. In her bed. In her car. In the tiny office behind the bar. In the even tinier store room behind the tiny office. In the press box at the practice arena. Two more rounds on the pool table before they finally decided to give that rickety old thing a break.

  To say Henny was insatiable was like saying Buffalo winters were a little on the cool side
. Bex’s body had been in a constant state of beautiful exhaustion for weeks, and she’d never felt so damn good.

  “Things are definitely heating up between us.” Bex sipped her wine, trying to hide her smile. “Maybe it’s helping his stamina.”

  “It’s the enhanced personal training program.” Eva winked. “I’ve got Walker on it, too.”

  “Do you think those boys have any idea we control their destiny?” Bex teased.

  “It’s way more fun to let them think they have free will.”

  Bex poured herself a little more wine, enjoying the oaky aroma as it swirled into her glass. She really needed to broaden Big Laurie’s wine list. “Long story short, after the whole drunk nachos thing, we just kind of went for it. And now it keeps happening. Like, everywhere. We can’t keep our hands off each other.”

  Eva placed a hand over her heart, lashes fluttering. “Young love in a kid-free, dog-free home. I can’t even remember what that’s like.”

  Bex nearly choked on her wine. “Slow down there, hotpants. It’s only been a few weeks.”

  “Plus or minus twenty-some years.”

  “As friends. No one’s talking about the L-word here.”

  Eva shrugged. “Maybe you’re not talking about it, but it’s pretty obvious you guys are crazy for each other.”

  Bex opened her mouth to deny it, but she couldn’t. Her feelings for Henny were complex, growing deeper and less defined by the day. Unspoken or not, the L-word had always been part of the package. But now, that love was evolving so quickly, she couldn’t keep up.

  The friendship was as solid as ever. All the inside jokes, the secrets, memories of a thousand heartaches and triumphs and everyday moments they’d shared over the years—none of that had gone away. And the passion between them? The new path they’d been forging together as they spent their nights touching, kissing, bringing each other to the edge and back again? Epic. Bex had never felt so desired. So alive.