by Lynda Aicher
He yanked a glove off and jerked his chin strap free, grinning. “Would I have asked for you if I wasn’t going to listen?” His earlier angst had evaporated to leave him buzzing with excitement. He could already envision the success he’d have after working with her.
“Maybe,” she answered, the monotone answer flat. She followed his moves, removing her glove and reaching delicate fingers to unsnap the chin strap. Maintaining eye contact, she removed her helmet. Her trapped ponytail fell over her shoulder before sliding down her back. Damp ends of her hair wisped around her face and a few clung to the side of her neck, darkened by sweat. “I’m still not sure about your ulterior motives.”
He skated backward, getting some distance. There was no way he wanted to pop a woody in his cup, but the sight of a sweat-drenched Samantha was hotter than any gussied-up bunny he’d ever met. “The only motive I have is to improve my game. That’s it. You wiped my ass all over the ice just minutes ago. Isn’t that proof enough that I could use your help?”
She followed his retreat, not backing down. Her gaze dropped to his neck then flicked up. “And this has nothing to do with what happened last week?”
The hickey she’d left had faded to a pale yellow that was almost unnoticeable now. That didn’t stop him from recalling exactly how he’d gotten it. He let his voice drop to a husky note. “Where? On the ice or in the bar?” Because really, they’d both contributed to getting her here.
Her lips pursed into a tight pucker that reminded him of how forceful she was in everything she did. The urge to soften that look had him wetting his lips. Yeah, thoughts like that weren’t helping his no-woody campaign.
“It was one time, remember?”
“The bar…maybe.” He let that hang for a moment. “But you told to me to call you if I wanted to improve my game.”
Her eyes narrowed, a small smile releasing the tight pull of her lips. “You may have gotten me back on the ice, but you’ll never have me off it again.”
His harsh bark of sarcastic laughter shot into the high reaches of the rink to echo back and mock him. “Right.” That was a challenge he couldn’t ignore. “Would you like to bet on that?”
Instead of responding, she skated over to the bench and squirted some water into her mouth from her water bottle. She left her helmet on the ledge and swiped up his bottle before she skated back to hand it to him. “The last bet we made didn’t work out so well for you,” she said, wiping a sleeve over her forehead.
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.” He took a drink of his water then gave her a lazy smirk before continuing. “And I honestly think our last bet ended pretty damn fine.” The sex part at least. The awkward moments afterward, not so much.
A satisfying flush rose up her neck to tinge her cheeks darker, but she didn’t look away. “If that’s all you wanted, then you really didn’t have to go through all of this—” she waved a hand to encompass the rink, “—to get into my pants again.”
“Sweetheart,” he drawled, putting his Texas accent into his words as he drifted closer to her. “I’d be in your pants right now if that was all I wanted.”
She choked on a sound, her shoulders jerking with her muffled snorts before she opened her clamped lips and let the bubbling laughter free. “I honestly can’t believe that crap works on any woman.” She shoved his arm and grabbed his water bottle from his hand before he could respond. “And for the record, you’ve had your one and only shot with me, so I hope you enjoyed it.”
She winked and skated away, a grin on her face when she glanced over her shoulder at him. Now how in the hell was he supposed to ignore that?
“So is that a bet?” he called out.
“Bet, truth—take it how you wish.” Her voice was light with taunts that reminded him of the comfortable camaraderie he found with his teammates. It was fun, and he was suddenly looking forward to these private lessons with an enthusiasm that had little to do with improving his game.
He skated over to her as she put her helmet back on. “Then a bet it is,” he said, drifting past her. “I hope you don’t mind losing.” He flipped around to skate backward so he could continue to watch her.
“Here’s something for you to remember, Rylie.” She grabbed her stick and smacked a puck down the ice. “I don’t like to lose.”
“Neither do I,” he mumbled before he dashed after the puck, challenge on.
Chapter Nine
Dylan paused outside the door, second—no, triple—guessing what he was about to do. He checked the hallway again. It was empty except for him. Exactly how it’d been the last five times he’d looked. There was no reason for anyone to be on this side of the closed-off stadium unless she was female, and the only one around right then was Samantha.
He rested his damp forehead on the cold metal and tried to force himself to turn around. It hadn’t worked on the entire trek over, so it was really a pointless endeavor. He still tried one last time. Why? He wasn’t sure. Double-thinking his actions wasn’t his norm.
Then again, nothing had been normal since Samantha had skated into his life.
With his cup removed, his erection strained against his compression shorts. He shoved the door open and stepped into the visitors’ locker room. He owed her for that hickey. And those scratch marks.
The hollow patter of a shower running echoed through the empty space, and a quick check showed one set of gear spread out before an open locker, the number seventeen displayed on the discarded blue jersey.
His stomach did a strange flip. It was out of place in this moment, yet he couldn’t deny the nerves that pulsed under his skin.
She could reject him. Kick him out and refuse to work with him again. As much as he wanted her help on the ice, he wanted her too. Maybe more. It was the chance of having them both that pushed him forward.
He’d stripped off his gear before he’d come over and now he removed his sweaty undershirt and shorts on autopilot. His feet were silent on the padded then tile floor, yet his blood roared in his ears over the beating rhythm of the shower. His imagination had vision after vision rotating through his mind on what he’d find. Slick, wet skin, bare flesh exposed and waiting for him to touch. Run his hands over. Kiss.
He turned the corner, caught sight of the naked expanse of Samantha’s backside and froze, the foil wrapping of the condom crinkling in his palm. Holy… He sucked in a breath, heart racing faster, his erection hardening impossibly more.
Reality was so much better.
The shower room was divided into individual tiled stalls, but she’d left the flimsy shower curtain open. Her skin was creamy white, slicked smooth with soapy water. Her blond hair, darkened by the water, trailed down her back like an arrow toward her rounded ass and muscular thighs.
He released a gush of air, bit back a worshiping curse, sucked in another rush of air and held it. The power in her lower body wasn’t that different from any hockey player’s, only it was. Rounded glutes and defined thighs turned into chiseled calves that he immediately imagined clamped around his waist. He wanted to rub his hands over every inch of each hairless leg, feel the strength beneath his palms and admire the dedication behind the physique.
Visions of sliding into her, that pale ass shoving back to meet each thrust, had his erection bobbing heavy and full with a need to repeat. Last time had been hot and hard, and he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the skin-on-skin contact.
Not until he saw her naked and bared like this.
She lifted her arms to wash her nape, the muscles through her shoulders and biceps rippling with the movement. There was a slight jerk in her arms before she went still. The water beat against the tile. Steam drifted heavy and weighted over his front, while cooler air covered his back.
His breath caught in his lungs as she lowered her arms and slowly turned her head to eye him over her shoulder. There was no shock, fear or expected anger in her expression. Only a heat in her eyes that burned him across the distance.
She wet her lip
s, her lids dropping in a sensual shift with her slow perusal of his body. “What are you doing here, Rylie?” There was a sultry note beneath her question that had his trapped breath expelling in a gush.
He cocked a half grin, found his confidence and gave her the same lazy evaluation she’d given him. “Isn’t that obvious?”
“You think I’m that easy?”
“Not even close.”
She bit her lip, eyes narrowing slightly as the moment dragged out. “Then why are you here?”
“I couldn’t stay away.” Honesty tumbled out before he could check his words. He couldn’t shake the pull toward her.
Her shoulders lifted with a big inhale that was silenced by the drumming water. “What do you want?”
“You.” There it was—the bold truth. He wanted more of her. Period.
“What happened to one time, one night?” Her tone had lowered, but she was still talking. Looking. That spoke louder than her words.
He kept his eyes on hers, resisting the allure of her naked body to convey how serious he was. “We deserve more.” He believed that, fully. They weren’t a onetime thing.
She puffed out a short laugh, a sultry smile growing that had him screaming to move to her. “How do you figure?”
“Sometimes you have to go with your instincts.” And his had led him right here. He held still, even though his blood hummed and his nerves vibrated with the urge to go to her. She had to consent, or he’d walk away. There was no halfway on that.
She tilted her head, the edge of her lip sliding between her teeth, eyes drifting closed before they squeezed tight. His heart hitched, chest expanding around a strange wave of longing. She was so fucking beautiful.
And she was going to turn him away. Fucking hell.
Her eyes opened, lips parted, tongue snaking out to wet them in a slow trail that screamed of deliberate. His heart leaped, hoped.
“And sometimes you go against them.” Her low words barely reached him across the distance, but her smile, a teasing curl of invitation, screamed “come get me” before she looked away.
He was moving then, strides sure. The heat hit him an instant before warm water sprayed over his skin. He jerked her back to his chest, arms circling her waist. Her gasp blended with his and his eyes drifted closed as he absorbed the heady sensation of first contact. Silky, hot flesh on flesh from shoulders to hips. His erection pressed between them, the sensitive head rubbing over the small of her back in a temptation that had him clenching his teeth to keep from grinding against her.
“You feel so good,” he murmured into her ear, his tongue snaking out to trace the shell. Her slight tremble and head tilt was a silent consent he went with.
He tossed the condom on the corner shelf and ran his palms over the warm expanse of her toned abdomen. She arched into his hand, head falling against his shoulder with a sigh. She was hot, slick and smooth everywhere he touched. So sensual and stunning beyond his imagination. He stared down in hazy amazement at the woman in his arms.
Her full breasts were tipped with coral nipples that were already peaked and begging to be pinched. And damn, he couldn’t pass that up.
He slid his palms over her ribs until he cupped a breast in each hand. They were perfect in his clutch, firm yet soft like her. He’d missed these the last time, hidden beneath her clothing and bypassed in the frenzied rush. What a mistake.
He caught the tips in his fingers to squeeze and roll each one until her lips parted, a sensual moan slipping out in a provocative purr that chased down his back to clench his balls. His hips jerked forward, his need to plunge into her bursting into a consuming fire. She gripped his sides, those nails of hers gouging his skin to urge him closer. Damn, he loved this fierceness in her.
“Fuck,” he said against her neck, his teeth catching on her skin. “That reminds me.” He bit down and sucked just enough to tease. “I owe you.”
Her nails dug in further as she wrenched her neck away to glare at him. “Not a chance.”
His smile was automatic. “It seems only fair.” He tugged on her nipples, stretched them until her chest pitched forward.
“Maybe I don’t play fair,” she gasped, mouth parting. Her eyes closed and the bold defiance that hardened her features was softened by pleasure. Damn, he liked that too.
“Maybe I don’t mind,” he mumbled. He rocked his hips, pushing her pelvis forward until she lifted onto her toes, then swayed back. The motion was an erotic foreshadowing that pulsed heavy in his cock.
He released the tension on her nipples. Her sigh was a mix of pleasure and relief as she relaxed into him. Her head rolled on his shoulder, eyes fluttering open to hold his. Unguarded for maybe the first time, the deep blue pools exposed a desire edged by a soft vulnerability that sucked the breath from him.
“Maybe you should,” she whispered before her lids dropped down.
A curse caught in his throat, jagged and sharp. She had him by the balls right then. Oddly, he didn’t give a damn.
He nipped her earlobe, the clean scent of her soap an unexpected aphrodisiac that sailed through his system. His hips bucked. His cock slicked over the arch of her ass to run up her spine and send sparks of need shooting down his shaft. Fucking…
A frustrated growl worked its way out of his chest. He slid a palm down her front until his fingers grazed the springy, wet curls above her sex. They hid what he wanted and he sucked in a breath, anticipation building for the heat he’d soon find.
She caught him off guard when she moved. One second she was wrapped in his arms and the next he was sprawled against the wall.
His gasp was wrenched from him when the cold tile hit his back. “What the hell?”
He caught a flash of a satisfied smirk before his head was tugged down, his lips claimed by Samantha. Her tongue thrust into his open mouth as she took everything she wanted from him. At first he was too stunned to retaliate, then he didn’t care. Hell, his mind shorted out when she pressed herself to him, soft curves underscored by hard muscle and pure force left him scrambling to keep his feet under him.
Fuck, he couldn’t keep up with her on or off the ice.
He was reaching to hold her against him when she was suddenly gone, hands smoothing down his chest before one clamped around his erection. His eyes flew open to catch her hooded glance up before her lips closed over the head of his dick. Damn.
She swallowed him down, sucking hard on her withdrawals. The tease of her tongue around the head and on that fuck-awesome spot right under the rim fired through his system and knocked everything from his thoughts but what she was doing to him.
He rocked back on his heels, hips flexing forward to get more of the pleasure that was raging down his dick to burn in his groin. His eyes wanted to close as he lost himself to the orgasm building in every part of his body, but he refused to miss a second of her show.
Lips stretched, cheeks hollowing on every glide up his shaft—the visual was incredible. She was on her haunches, knees spread wide in a squat before him. The position was challenging to hold for any duration, yet her focus never wavered from her task.
He reached out to grasp the back of her head, not to force her but to simply hold on. He’d just skimmed his fingers over her hair when she yanked her mouth free and knocked his hand away. Her glare was hard and almost cold.
“Don’t touch,” she demanded, tone close to a snarl. Her eyes narrowed in warning. Damn, she was serious.
Her need to control these encounters was both a turn-on and a puzzle that was another piece of this complex woman he wanted to solve—but not right this second.
His chest heaved, and the thought of her leaving with his dick aching and ready to burst had him lifting his hand in retreat. Know your teammate and play to her strengths.
His ego had no problem giving her this. Hell, why would he?
Her fist tightened around the base of his shaft and she stroked him—once, twice—in slow pulls that had him clenching his hands to keep from grabbing her so he did
n’t fall. Her eyes never left his as she flicked her tongue to tease over the slit on the end. The little probing sent a dart of desire firing down the inside of his dick.
“Shit.” His curse was washed out by the drone of the water and the roaring in his ears.
She wet her lips, her free hand cupping his balls. He sucked in a breath and gave over control—for the moment.
She rolled his sac in her hand and closed her mouth around him again. Damn. His head dropped back to thump against the wall, teeth clenched to withhold the sounds that wanted to roar from his chest.
Two more hard sucks, a squeeze to his tender balls, an edge of pain and he was gone. His orgasm exploded from him in a shock of blinding power. He hadn’t expected it just yet. Hadn’t had the chance to warn her until it was too late.
His curse echoed in his head and resounded off the tile. He jerked forward, ass clenching as he thrust one last time. Heat bathed him from the inside out and his eyes squeezed closed, a blinding flash of light blazing behind his lids.
He gasped, sagged forward then arched again when a shot of pain pierced his hip.
Dizzy, disoriented and barely staying upright, he forced his eyes open. Samantha moaned against his hip and the pain intensified where she sucked yet another mark onto him. He’d just processed that when she let go to crush her forehead against him, moaning. His focus darted lower to see her hand moving quickly between her legs.
Oh, hell no. That orgasm was his.
He yanked her up, whipped her around to switch their positions and was on his knees, one of her legs thrown over his shoulder before she could protest. He spared a quick glance up to her stunned face then dove into the heat that was her. Her taste—sharp and clean—blasted over his tongue with each swipe through her sex.
Water coursed down his back, a counterpoint to the beat of need driving him. She gasped, muscles clenching around his tongue when he thrust it into her. Christ. Revived need tried to bolster life in his spent cock. Too bad his recovering time wasn’t that quick. If only…
He moved his focus to suckle her sensitive nub. Her cry pitched off the tile, high and airless. A sweet note he could hear repeatedly and never tire of.
