Waking the Lion

by Lacee Hightower

“Rhett!” he calls out, my mind somewhere between downright shocked and so pissed that I feel like taking my older brother and introducing my fist to his jaw.

  I wince. “I’m here.” Though there’s no emotion in my verbal response, my insides feel like they’re cracking. I want to kick the shit out of something. Just the thought of anyone, my brother included, laying a hand on a single hair of this girl causes an icy sweat to form on the nape of my neck. She’s beautiful. Sexy. Smart. Sweet as hell. All that a given, there’s more than a physical appearance. It’s her smile. Those damn eyes that make me want to pull her against my body and kiss the living breath out of her before sinking my dick so deep inside her that she screams my name. What the hell is this girl doing to me?

  “Well, good luck on getting laid,” I practically hiss, intentionally disconnecting and turning the volume to silent. Thoughts of my brother’s roaming hands on Kass don’t settle well, but damn it to hell, I have nothing to offer her … when Reese has everything.

  ****

  Another grueling workout complete, I quickly shower and return to my car. I’ll head home for a few hours before the season ticket holder affair this evening. But first, I stop and grab a dozen balloons at the grocery store before my next stop.

  Was it something I said?

  Something I did?

  With every fragment of my willpower being tested, my head is buzzing as I resist the urge to call my brother and come up with some bullshit reason to keep him away from Kass. Yet, my sane side tells me to do the opposite. He’s the better choice. The only choice.

  Whether I like it or not.

  Months have passed. Another birthday come and gone. Thanksgiving. A third anniversary to add to the list. Time has ticked by slowly. I haven’t pursued sex. Probably couldn’t have even gotten a boner in the beginning. But the cute hair stylist came knocking on my door, leaving my nostrils full of her light floral scent and my dick hard as steel the minute I reeled in on her pretty smile. Now, in spite of the fact my head still isn’t where it needs to be, my body has sprung back to life with desire and need, whether I welcome it or not. My hand has become my dick’s most valuable prized asset.

  And I need more. I need her.

  I’m sitting in the parking lot with a dozen pink balloons in my back seat. Willing myself to go replace the dried-up flowers from last week with balloons this time. I’m tending to a commitment. Making good on my promise to always make sure there’s something fresh and new beside her headstone. My heart pounding, I reach for my phone in the console, seeing two missed calls and a text from Reese.

  What the fuck, Rhett?

  In less than ninety seconds, I’ve answered my brother’s text with a curt Don’t ask Kass out. I’ll explain later, arranged to have two tickets sent over to the salon for the Skate with The Blue Hawks affair, hoping like hell she’ll come, and now I proceed to sit in my car with a dick so hard it could slice through fucking diamonds. Chances are good that she won’t even show up, being that Thanksgiving was yesterday, which in all reality would be the wiser choice. On top of the fact that I’m a fucking asshole to even be thinking of another woman right now, it’s also highly possible that my brother has already called her.

  And she’s agreed to a date with him. Women don’t turn Reese down.

  As I give a quick rearrangement to the steel rod scraping my zipper, another flashback grabs at me as I step from my car and proceed with what I came here for.

  “Hi, beautiful. I brought pink today.”

  Eyes sealed shut … soft breathing … body still as a mountain.

  Nothing but silence.

  “So pretty,” I whisper, reaching for her favorite lotion to rub on her hands.

  “Nice and soft now, sweetheart.”

  Forty-five minutes later, I’m back in my car, my heart heavy. My head between my hands, I’m broken down with painful sobs racking my chest. In the beginning, despite the doctors’ hopelessness, I’d still carried optimism. Refused to believe the inevitable. Fuck, it hurts so damned much.

  After long minutes, my emotions subside, and I start my car and carry on.

  Like every other day.

  ****

  Though far from being enjoyable, I guess in hindsight, these events aren’t all that bad. Most importantly, they come with the job. Plus, kids really get a kick out of skating with us and posing for pictures. I actually enjoy messing with them. Kids are cool. Little girls being the cutest to watch, I hold a strange soft spot when it comes to them. With a quick look at my phone, another text from Reese lights up the screen.

  Had a feeling mentioning the cute hair stylist might spark a nerve.

  How the hell did he know that? I haven’t mentioned a word about Kass … to anyone.

  Sneaky fucking bastard. My brother knows his shit. He never intended on asking Kass out. He was simply baiting me. Trying to get a rise. Just exactly what he accomplished.

  “Hey, Gentry!” Tack sits down beside me, and we both lace our skates. After a few minutes of conversation, we head out to the ice and go our separate ways, where I immediately take the hand of a little girl with a freckled face, who can’t be a day over seven years old and cute as hell. Her mother takes a selfie of the three of us and we circle the ice a couple of times before I move on to a set of twin boys who appear to be on skates for the first time.

  Thirty minutes later and about two dozen photos down, my temper flares as I skate toward the rookie defenseman I suddenly have the urge to kick the living shit out of. I never have liked the guy. Detested the hell out of him, actually. He carries a grudge a mile fucking long about his shitty upbringing and takes it out on everybody he meets. The only thing he has going for him is the simple fact that he’s a damn good defenseman. At 6’6”, 220 pounds, he’s strong as a bull. His second year playing pro, last season he led all the Hawks’ defensemen in goals, assists, points, and plus/minus. He has a good future ahead of him, but I still don’t like the cocky fuck.

  My chest clenching so tightly that I feel physically ill, I come to a flying halt, intentionally spraying ice. My gaze latches onto two big, surprise-filled, shiny blue eyes that make my pulse pound. “Get your slimy hands off her, Nielson,” I hiss to the Russian asshole, suddenly shaking so hard my knees are knocking together.

  “Okay, brother. No problem,” he replies, shielding his hands in front of him. The defensive move almost gets a laugh out of me, considering his size and position on the ice.

  “Jesus, Rhett.” Kass’s voice is solid. “Do you have to be such an ass? All the time? He was only trying to help me stay on my feet. I’m not exactly a great skater. Plus, I thought this was Skate with the Blue Hawks? Am I missing something behind the meaning of that?”

  She gives me a confused look at my back-biting fit of jealousy, but there’s also a touch of softness in her eyes. Hell, I don’t even understand where the sudden resentfulness came from, but once I saw the Russian with his hands on her hips, the sound of my molars grinding was loud enough that anyone within three feet could have heard the grating noise.

  “I don’t give a fuck. I don’t want him touching you. If you need help, ask me,” I bark, the unexpected stinging need to control this woman shaking me up.

  Her face goes white. “Okay,” she whispers. Her hand lightly brushes against mine. The corner of her lip slides between her teeth, her face appearing uncomfortable but … turned on. She skates away, and I follow, abruptly stopping in front of her.

  “I’ll be out of here and home by eight. My address is the same.”

  With a confused nod, she pulls her lip back between her teeth again and skates off, nearly tripping before gathering her balance. Goddamn, she’s cute. I fly by her again and give her a wink, my dick stirring as her cheeks flush with that sweet pink hint of color. For the first time in many gut-wrenching months, I’m feeling something I thought was long gone and buried. Not entirely sure what it is, or what it means, if anything at all, I want to get to know this woman.

  Though I don’
t really know how that could be a realistic possibility.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kass

  “I’ll be out of here and home by eight.”

  Nerves crawl through my body. With my destination only minutes away, my mind is racing. My stomach is jumping hurdles. Cold, shivery goosebumps coat my upper body even though the temperature is far from cold. Warm tension plagues me like every other time I make eye contact with Rhett, but something seems different this time around.

  Clearly, he seems different.

  “I don’t want him touching you.”

  I was shocked by his snarl of jealousy. And aroused. What in the world is it with this man? All the off and on mixed signals? The quivering tenseness straining through the muscles of his neck while his gaze on me was hard and fixed because another skater attempted to help me? What’s he trying to prove? And why? Shudders of desire wash over me as I get a quick stab of hope reliving those few short minutes. Tight and uncomfortable, lust and need combed his stare. He looked so strong.

  So intense.

  So passionate.

  So damn beautiful.

  So much for playing it cool. By the time I get to his house, I’m so keyed up that my knees are shaking to the point of no feeling left in my lower body. On the stone-covered porch, stalling, anticipating who’s inside, I fumble with my earring. Before I’ve even pressed the bell, I’m yelping as Rhett abruptly opens the door. His fingers brush mine slightly as he gestures me inside, my palm sparking with warmth from the small touch. With a quick push of his foot, the door slams shut, and I swallow hard, staring up at darker than normal blue eyes that bring out another wave of goosebumps across my neck. The sight of him pulls the breath from me. I’m almost compelled to reach over and touch his hand again in an attempt to warm my body that’s suddenly chilled to the bone. Like always, my pulse quickens.

  Staring like a love-sickened adolescent, my eyes drop over his toned body, an unbecoming expression that I quickly regret. Don’t gawk! Don’t gawk! Inches in front of me, he’s wearing black jeans with matching dark boots, his shirt a deep gray Henley with open snaps at the top, revealing a toned wide chest that I remember all too well. Long, thick hair is pushed away from his face so I can see the glimmer in his slate-blue eyes. All this, along with the fact that he smells absolutely divine, Rhett Gentry is the essence of strong, sculpted male. A thick stillness fills the small margin between our bodies as he makes a short, throaty-sounding groan, his eyes glued on mine with what looks like a blistering hunger.

  “Maybe I’m losing my mind, because I don’t understand a fucking part of this … but I don’t want anyone else touching you.” There’s a hard force to his tone, and he contemplates me for a prolonged minute with something heavy behind his gaze, before reaching for my arm and spinning me around, swatting my butt so hard that I stagger and come close to stumbling to the ground.

  It’s the last thing I’m expecting, so I respond with a squeal. “Holy shit, Rhett!” My heart pounding, I rub at my ass cheek that stings even through the thick denim of my jeans.

  His brows arch. “That’s for wearing jeans ripped right underneath your ass cheeks,” he demands. “I don’t want…” He stops mid-sentence, his fists balling by his sides.

  My pulse thundering out of control, I stare at him with wide eyes. “You don’t want what?” I ask. “What exactly are you after, Rhett? Because honestly, you’re not a very nice person,” I say in a whisper that’s lodged deep in my throat. The slap on my ass was hot as hell and has my mind wandering. “Besides, what if I don’t particularly like your hands wrapped around all those female waists? Posing for photos when half, or probably more of them, are growing wet between the legs?”

  Humor sparks in his eyes, and he takes a long minute to answer, his tone smooth and deep when he does. He leans forward, his finger brushing my hair behind my ear. “I’m not worried about any other female.” His tall stature towers over me, and his lips brush my neck just enough to send icy chills through my spine. “I won’t have men foaming at the mouth over your bare ass cheeks, Kass.” His words come out like a growling command, and I blink, confused, struggling not to smile at his fixed and dark expression.

  Strangely, I’m turned on by this possessiveness. An edgy strain pulls at the room as I ignore his response, my gaze zooming in on the thickness of his lips.

  “Can we please just sit down?” I ask, trembling. Knees weak, I lower myself into a chair directly across from the sofa where he hesitates, and then finally sits.

  “Tell me what you’re feeling, Kass. What you’re after.” His eyes sear with heat, and my insides are jumping with the right words.

  “You,” I whisper. “You’re what I’m after.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rhett

  Suddenly, you just know the time’s right.

  Strained silence hammers between us.

  Directly across from me, which is everywhere I don’t want her to be, she nonetheless chooses to keep her distance. Avoiding what we both know is beyond the point of ignoring, her soft blue eyes beam with curiosity as I imagine all the damn places I want to explore. After several beats, she blinks, turning away from me.

  “Look at me, Kass.”

  She turns back to face me, a hint of pink in her cheeks that makes me want to kiss her for long drawn-out minutes until her modesty is forever gone. For a few seconds I can’t even form words as I look into her gaze that sets something off behind my chest. This urgency is unexpected and perplexing. Everything inside my head is unethical when it comes to her.

  “Have you daydreamed about me touching you, Kass?”

  Her lips drop open at the bluntness of my question, her soft sigh telling me everything I need to know. This woman is an unwinnable war that I’m confident I’m losing.

  “Yes.” Her whisper of an answer is so quiet that I only read her lips.

  Blood instantly shoots through my cock at her soft response, a rumble of satisfaction pulling deep through my chest. “I’ve made myself come thinking about you and those beautiful eyes.” I ease my legs open, giving her full sight to the thickening behind my jeans and leaving her to her own speculations. Her gaze drops toward my widened legs, and she sucks back a deep, long breath that ends in another soft sigh.

  That fucking sigh…

  “What about you? Do you ever touch yourself, sweetheart?”

  Her lips open wide, her legs shifting while the curling of her toes into the floor doesn’t go unnoticed.

  “Do you, Kass?” My voice turns stern, and her heels lift even more as she swallows hard. The sight of her getting turned on nearly makes me come in my damn pants. Imagining how motherfucking hot she is naked and wet makes my cock hard as granite.

  She doesn’t answer my question, but nods, her fingers slowly sweeping down the length of her thigh and lingering at her knees before sliding back up.

  “Touch yourself for me, beautiful,” I groan. Her eyes widen with a weighty lust before her fingertips press deep into the insides of her thighs, a pretty pink glow rising up her neck that matches her cheeks. My dick so hard I can barely stand it, I take in a long breath smelling sweet … vanilla … female … sex.

  “I want you touching me.” Her request comes out more of a plea than a demand, one I have every intention of honoring.

  “Where, sweetheart? Show me where you want me to touch you.” Her hands still lingering on her thighs, she slowly eases them open just the smallest bit. Every straining part of my body throbs to drop to my knees and replace her hands with mine, but I don’t move. I stay completely still.

  “Touch yourself, Kass.”

  She gulps back another swallow, opening her thighs enough that I see a small damp spot on the crease of her jeans that has me wanting to reach for my aching dick.

  Jesus almighty Christ! My body tenses. I’m so hard, it’s more misery than pleasure.

  Her shaky, delicate fingers lead a small trail over the fabric of her pants as her soft eyes stay glued on mi
ne. I, in turn, reach between my legs and give her a satisfied moan as I stroke myself. She takes a deep breath, and I smile at her.

  “My God,” she pleads. “Please … just touch me, Rhett.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kass

  “My God. Please … just touch me, Rhett.”

  Did I really just say that?

  “I’ve wanted to touch you for way too damn long.”

  Fire jets through my body during the most open, profound, sexual exchange of words I’ve ever shared with a man. Rhett stands and reaches for my hand, his lust-filled stare burning through mine like scorching flames as I’m so ruffled with adrenaline that I need to clench my thighs.

  “You have no idea, Kass,” he says with a blazing seriousness as his gaze slowly drags over my body, “just how much I want you. Your voice cracking as you beg for more. Those pretty eyes glazing over when you’re on the edge. I want to … know what you like for breakfast for Christ’s sake.”

  Everything becomes a blur, the command in his tone drawing me in even tighter. I want to experience every single hot thing he just said … and then do it all over again. I’m wet and so turned on I can barely stay still, and my past opinions are nothing but tiny specks of meaningless dust as I slide over into a whole new element with this man that’s all sleek, sensual temptation.

  And a widower.

  “So, what happens now?” I ask, scrambling for the right words—or any at all. A prickly shiver shoots down my spine as his eyes suffuse with pride and contentment.

  His finger traces the curve of my bottom lip, which I feel all the way through my spine. “What do you want to happen, doll?” His hand ceases but doesn’t venture from my lips, and my stomach fills with warm bumps of need. He takes a small step forward, and the spicy scent of his cologne, along with his natural smell, do crazy things to every place that I’m trying to keep balanced, and I brush my hands over his shirt, feeling nothing but pure hard muscle. “Tell me what you want, Kass.”