Hard Checked: Ice Kings, #4

by Lynn, Stacey

  Everything about him seems to be a puzzle, a missing piece here or there, a clue I have to dig for. And every time I find one, it feels like the smallest victory, watching him start to laugh, to smile… to admit he wants this.

  There are so many layers to Sebastian I’m not sure how long it’ll take me to uncover them all, but damn it all to hell I am up to the task of searching. We kiss fervently as he presses up my shirt. His thumb runs beneath my breast and I arch into him, desperate for more. His featherlight touch coupled with the roughness of his calloused fingertips and palms sends sensations rolling through me, making me crave more, or everything. My back arches, and I tug on my shirt, pushing and pulling until I can remove it completely.

  “Beautiful,” he murmurs right before he rolls on top of me.

  My legs spread, taking his weight and making room for him, and I barely have time to latch my fingers into his hair before he sucks one of my nipples into his mouth.

  And oh God. His hair, I’ve spent years dying to know how it feels. Now, his mouth is the only thing I can think of. And he doesn’t stop there. He kisses everywhere, as if he’s trying to sear the memory of my shape into his brain with his lips. By the time he reaches down to my shorts, I am so ready for him it’s almost embarrassing.

  He lifts his head, green, cloudy eyes meet mine and I nod. “Please. I want you.”

  A salacious grin is my reward and as he tugs down my shorts, me lifting my hips to help, he continues kissing me. The calla lily tattoo at my hip which he pays more attention to before moving down, glancing up at me, but I arch into him, giving my consent. Showing him my need.

  At the first slide of his tongue at my center, my hips thrust up and I cry out, digging fingers into the sheets beneath me. “Oh. Yes.”

  He hums against my sex, presses me into the bed with one large, firm hand and with the other, he presses a finger inside of me.

  I become a mess of sounds as he discovers what I like, which is everything. For a man who claimed to be nervous hours ago, he’s certainly gotten over that in a hurry. He’s a master at playing my body, adding a finger. Taking me slowly while driving me crazy with his tongue until I’m wet, so close but I don’t want to come yet.

  “I want you.” I gasp it out, my hand flinging to my nightstand where I keep my condoms. “Nightstand. Please.”

  I don’t know if I’ve ever been so needy, but with another slow swipe of his tongue that dives straight inside me, making me quiver, I don’t even care. I’ve waited for this. Wanted this for so long and now that Sebastian is here, moving on top of me, giving me a close-up view of his insanely sexy and perfect abs, I want to etch every second of this into the deepest recesses of my brain.

  Someday I’ll be in a nursing home, drooling into Jell-O and telling the twenty-something nurse about the best sex I ever had and it’ll be this moment.

  This guy.

  Sebastian kisses me, and I taste myself on his lips, his beard, and I hold him to me, fingers pressing into his cheeks and jaw to hold him close.

  “Now, Sebastian.”

  “I like hearing you beg for me.”

  “I’ll do it every day if you just get inside of me now.”

  He laughs, so husky and deep. I grin up at him as he opens the drawer to my nightstand. While he fumbles for a condom, I hook my fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs. He’s so damn pretty I don’t know where to focus first, until I reveal his dick. Wide, thick, perfect length with a pearly drop of liquid at the end of it. Yeah, it’s as impressive as he was last night in the office.

  I take him in hand, needing to feel the weight of him and at that first touch, his forehead drops to mine. His groan echoes along my skin along with his muted, “Yes. Shit.”

  We watch together as I slide my hand up and down his shaft and then he kisses my temple, goes back to the condom and barks out a laugh.

  “What?”

  I stall my movements, surprised by his outburst and then he’s back, a red condom wrapper in his hand and a smirk making his eyes gleam. Embarrassment stings my cheeks as I realize what it is.

  Cherry-flavored condom. A random item I grabbed on a rare girl’s night out when I first got back and tried to reconnect with old friends. It was a bachelorette party and I went home with condoms in more flavors than I knew existed. Why I kept them, I have no idea.

  “I’ve wanted this with you since that morning I spent the night and a cherry-flavored condom went flying from your purse.”

  “What?”

  “That morning when you looked for eye drops. One flew out of your purse and I swear I got hard when I saw it.”

  “Oh,” I drawl. My hand at his dick begins to move again.

  “Trust me. I’ve thought about that condom a lot. And what it would be used for.”

  “Next time.” I seal my promise with a kiss and soon he has a regular condom in his hand, tearing it open. I take it from him, impatient and not ashamed in the least.

  “God, that’s the best thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

  I laugh. He’s ridiculous. And then his dick in my hand twitches and my laughing ceases.

  The size of Sebastian’s dick is absolutely no laughing matter.

  Plus, I really want to roll it on him, play with his dick some more. Once he’s sheathed, he slams his mouth to mine and finds my center. His thickness stays there while above me, his biceps strain with restraint.

  “You sure you want this?” he asks.

  For a second, his brows pull together and concern makes his gaze turn dark. I’m about to ask if he’s sure, but he rocks against my tender bundle of nerves he’s already primed and I arch into him.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Then hold on to the sheets for me, Gigi. I want to have some fun with you.”

  And play he does. He takes my body and slides deep inside of me, barely giving me time to adjust before we’re tangled in sheets and kisses. His mouth, warm and wet and still lingering with the taste of me takes mine in a breath-stealing kiss as he begins to move.

  We find our rhythm easily, like so much of the time we’ve already spent together, and I revel in two things.

  Sebastian is an absolute God in bed.

  And my heart is dangerously close to taking a leap that will no doubt leave it smashed to smithereens.

  I come so hard I scream his name, cling to his arms, to my headboard behind me. And when he follows right behind me, grunting my name, I keep my eyes wide open so I don’t miss a single second of this moment I drive him over the cliff.

  Chapter Twenty

  Sebastian

  Holy shit. I can hardly breathe. I’m pretty sure Gigi just sucked all my breath out of my lungs and straight through my dick.

  She’s incredible. Confident. Willing. She has no problems going for what she wants and holy crap it’s sexy as hell even while she lets me lead because I’m no fool.

  She’s absolutely giving me permission to lead when she takes what I’ve given her and already I’m thinking of the next time.

  There will be a next time. It’ll be at my place, where there are dozens of rooms we can continue to explore whatever in the hell just exploded between us.

  With that thought, I scrub a hand down my face, pinch my beard in my fist and groan. “I need to get home to Bruiser.”

  “Yeah?” Her smile is soft. Her lips are swollen. Her beautiful eyes are glazed over like she still can’t believe how good that was.

  I know the feeling.

  “Yeah. You want to come with me? Spend the day with me at my place?”

  Two perfectly trimmed eyebrows arch and a smile makes the lines around her eyes crinkle. “Really?”

  “Do you have to do anything here? For the bar?”

  “Nothing that can’t wait. You don’t have anything to do?”

  “Yeah. More of what we just did. In my swimming pool. Or maybe the shower afterward.” I stop there before I spill all the places I’ve considered taking her, but her eyes are already shimmering wi
th excitement. Anticipation. And something even better that’s threatening to turn my dick hard before we even get out of this bed.

  But I do need to let Bruiser out of his kennel. I’ve been a crappy doggy dad.

  “So, my place? All you need is a swimsuit. I keep the pool heated even when it’s cold out.”

  “Hotshot, I was going to say yes because you asked, but the pool sealed the deal.”

  I lean in and kiss her lips, smiling as I do it. “Why do you do that?”

  “What?”

  “Call me hotshot.” I’m the only guy on the team she has a nickname for. She might call some by their last name but it’s not the first time I’ve realized I’m the one who gets a different name altogether.

  “Oh well, that’s easy. The first time I saw you, I thought you were the hottest guy in the bar.” Her nose crinkles and she pauses. “Then I saw your wedding ring.”

  She wanted me. That was over a year ago. My thumb finds my metal band and I cringe. Surely she’s seen it. It’s been a part of me for so long, only taking it off for games, I haven’t even thought about removing it until this moment. Even over the last few weeks, after the divorce papers came, I’ve taken it off for games, slid it back on and never gave it a second thought.

  Which is pretty fucked up now that I think about it. Especially with all the time I’ve spent with Gigi, starting to feel things for her, and I’ve still been wearing my loyalty to Madison shining bright for all to see.

  “Gigi—”

  She stops me by pressing her thumb to my lips. I kiss the tip playfully.

  “This doesn’t have to be serious, you know. I’m okay with fun, as long as it’s safe fun and we keep our cards face up on the table.”

  She’s read me totally wrong, and I inspect her gaze, I search for anything she’s hiding, that she’s lying. In truth, I like this woman, but I can’t and won’t lie to her and say my head is in the right place for something more than what she’s offering. Even if I think I want it.

  “I’m not sure I have anything serious to give. Not now. Not in the season either.” We’re close to playoffs. But that’s not the only reason. I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep to Gigi.

  I might not quite know what we’re doing, but she’s important to me and for that reason I don’t want to hurt her.

  “It’s fine. I totally understand and if I wouldn’t have been okay with it, I wouldn’t have mentioned it.” She smiles at me, kisses my mouth and pulls back. She reaches for her tank top and slides it on, her back curving as she wiggles it on and all I want to do is throw her back to the bed and make love to her again. “So, let’s go get Bruiser before he starts hating me for keeping you from him, shall we?”

  She saunters off, wearing only a tiny tank top and nothing else and I’m left staring after her, feeling like the world has decided to throw me on a wild journey I never could have predicted. How in the hell did I go from getting so drunk over my wife divorcing me to finding someone as beautiful as Gigi in the span of weeks?

  * * *

  “Your house is something else, hotshot.”

  Shaking my head, I bump my hip into her playfully. Bruiser, after freaking out when he saw Gigi and then ran in circles before running outside, is now nestled in her arms while she cradles him, following me through the house.

  “It’s pretty damn crazy some days to think it’s mine. Can’t lie.”

  From a two-thousand square foot split-level home that’s forty years old to a five-thousand square foot two-story with a pool and enough yard space to build an indoor ice rink if I wanted, this home sometimes still takes my breath away.

  Madison and I found it as soon as I was drafted here. The first few years I thought the expense on something so massive was absolutely the dumbest thing we could do. But then we talked about filling it with kids. Space for all our siblings and families to come visit. Then we planned to add an ice rink outside in its own barn. And a workout gym for both of us. With all the plans we had, most of them were done besides the rink I kept putting off.

  But other than that, Madison and I spent five years getting this monstrosity exactly how we wanted it… or at least how Madison wanted it. Some days I walk through and it feels almost cold and impersonal to me now that she’s gone. There’s a hell of a lot of white in my living room and now that I don’t have her music or her distracting me, when I sit down and watch television at night, I’m still afraid of spilling something on the rug or couch knowing it’d earn me a tongue-lashing from Madison.

  When did we become so damn grown-up or distant that a spill on a couch we can easily replace would send us into a week-long argument?

  I think of all of this while I show Gigi the small movie room with eight theater-style chairs. Her jaw drops, turning to me. “Do you actually use this?”

  “Yeah sometimes. When the guys are over or when family visits. My nieces and nephews think it’s the coolest thing in the world.”

  “Man, I bet they do.”

  “My sister tells me that it’s all they talk about. Coming to see Uncle Sebastian for his movies.”

  “Bet that knocks you down a peg or two, doesn’t it?”

  Admittedly, yeah. I mean, they all still live in the town I grew up. People know who they are. Anyone connected with hockey or a fan knows the story of the teacher’s son who’s made it big in the NHL. So yeah, hearing that my nephews only care about my projector screen and fancy chairs is a kick in the gut.

  “Keeps me humble,” I tell Gigi. “Besides, the oldest one is seven. He has a few years yet to redeem himself. But I do laugh when he watches my games on TV and then goes and tells his friends about my movie room and nothing about his uncle on TV.”

  Gigi pets Bruiser’s back, sliding her hand through his white fur and he gives me a look of complete contentment.

  “Is it bad,” I say, getting her attention, “that right now I want to kick Bruiser out of this room and have you all to myself on those chairs?”

  She slides me a look full of mischief and promise. “I think that’s something I’ll take you up on after you feed me and take me swimming.”

  “Right.” I laugh. We left her house in such a hurry this morning so I could get home we haven’t even had breakfast. “Come with me then. I’m sure I’ve got something I can cook.”

  We head back down the long hall that takes us almost straight to my kitchen and again, the stark whiteness of everything feels almost blinding as we reach the large, open space with the kitchen island in full view. There’s a small stack of mail sitting there I haven’t yet gone through outside tossing the divorce decree into my office.

  I force myself to focus on the present, on Gigi walking through my house, bottom lip pulled in between her teeth mixed with her eyes wide with wonder and I wonder what she’s thinking.

  “Come on. My housekeeper and dog sitter usually stocks up the fridge when I’m gone. There should be plenty to choose from.”

  “I’m okay with anything. But I need something before the monster growling in my stomach bursts through. Then we’re all in trouble.”

  “We’ll get you taken care of. Bagel and cream cheese? Eggs and bacon? Yogurt? Name your poison.”

  I pull open the refrigerator door and scan the contents. I have everything I just mentioned. Rows of Greek yogurt in various flavors. I usually eat a few containers a day with some granola and eggs and even though I should be focused on my diet right now, getting my protein and fats on my day off so I have energy for tomorrow’s game, I’m more focused on taking care of Gigi’s needs.

  “Yogurt and a bagel are good.”

  I step back and open the door. “You choose then.”

  “Your fridge looks like a grocery store,” she says, and that sense of awe flickers in her gaze. “You’re so… organized.”

  “Cara just stacks things and puts them away.”

  “Well my fridge looks like a mess compared to yours.”

  “I thought I wasn’t going to get to tease you about
your cleaning habits anymore.”

  “You’re not.” She shoves my chest and then grabs a yogurt cup, already peeling off the top before she turns back to me. “But I never said I wasn’t going to tease you about yours.”

  “Spoons are in the drawer to the right side of the island. Help yourself. Need coffee?”

  “Does a giraffe need a super long scarf?”

  “What?” I laugh. It feels like I’m always laughing with Gigi and damn it feels good. “You are… you are something else, Georgia.”

  She sticks out her tongue at me and grins. “You’ve said that once or twice, you know.”

  “And I’ve meant it every time.” I grab my own yogurt and container of eggs along with some spinach and cheese. An omelet won’t take much work. When I reach for my own spoon in the island Gigi is at the corner, hip to the counter, one leg braced up and the bottom of her foot placed on her knee like she’s in some yoga pose. “I also like you. Even when you stand like a flamingo.”

  She snorts and looks down, shrugging unashamedly. “I know. It’s weird.”

  “It’s cute. Like everything else about you.”

  I kiss the tip of her nose and then get to my breakfast. We need fuel for the plans I have for us today. Lots of fuel. Lots of plans.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Gigi

  My hand is pressed to the wet, white subway tile in front of me. It’s all I can see. White tile. Water droplets. The tips of my teal-colored hair falling down.

  None of it compares to the feel of the body behind me. Sebastian’s hands on my shoulders, massaging them, following the massage with his mouth and his tongue as he kisses and playfully bites me.

  “Please,” I whimper against what his hand is doing to my front. My breasts are heavy and full, wanting, and my legs are shaking.

  “Patience,” he croons into my ear. He’s been playing my body for what feels like hours. Bringing me to the edge. Pulling back. Taking me there again. The cliff of my orgasm is beyond my reach, but my insides are screaming for it.