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Las Vegas Sidewinders: Brock

Page 16

by Kat Mizera


  “Thanks, Doc.” Brock shook his hand and the doctor gave Ashleigh a brief nod before exiting.

  “Are you flying back to Vegas today?” she asked in a frustrated whisper.

  Brock held out his hand and she took it as he pulled her forward. “I’ll say I don’t feel up to it. I’m not playing the next game no matter what, but there’s a chance I’ll play the one after that, so if you want me to stay an extra day, I will.”

  She looked down, staring at where their fingers were locked together. “I got today off, but I don’t know that I can get any others. Sonya’s great, but she has a whole crew she’s paying while I’m here with my injured husband.”

  “Believe me, baby, I understand. We’re in the freakin’ playoffs and even though I’m hurt, I should be with the team. But no matter how much I feel the pull to get back to hockey, I’m not playing tomorrow night in Vegas. If I’m not playing, the only thing that’s important is you. Us.”

  “Is there an us?” she whispered, lifting her eyes to his.

  “Well, yeah.” He reached for her and she moved against him, though she rested her weight on the bed beside him. “I want to try. I want to wake up next to you and go to sleep next to you. I want to make love to you every god damn day until you’re begging me for more…”

  She giggled, her cheeks turning pink as she buried her face in his bicep.

  “Does that make you shy?” he asked softly, his other hand stroking her hair.

  “You know how I felt about sex…” she murmured.

  “Felt?”

  “Well, you’ve only made love to me twice, so maybe it was a fluke, like beginner’s luck—”

  “Beginner’s luck?” he muttered, squeezing her ass before running his hand up under her T-shirt. “Give me five minutes and I promise you’ll be soaked and ready.”

  “Not here!” she laughed, kissing the side of his neck, though she sensed he was right. “And not yet. Your ribs must hurt like a bitch!”

  He shrugged. “Had worse. No biggie. Not if it means making love to my beautiful wife.”

  “Is that enough?” she whispered suddenly, lifting her head. “The physical attraction? Do we have enough to make this work?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But we have enough to try. Don’t we?”

  “Yes,” she said, nestling against him again. “Definitely yes.”

  “Let’s drive to Atlanta,” he suggested.

  “What?”

  “You need to get back, and it doesn’t matter where I am. If the team needs me for game seven, it’s a lot closer for me to get to St. Louis from Atlanta than from Vegas, and I want to be with you. It’s about seven hours—can you drive that long?”

  “Of course. Are you sure, though? It’s a long drive with a broken rib.”

  “You’ve gone out of your way to be here for me, so I can go back to Atlanta with you if you don’t mind driving.”

  “I don’t.”

  They rented a car and Ashleigh drove while Brock dozed in the passenger seat. They’d opted to surprise Bella, and it was as though a weight had been lifted from her. Being together like this was nice, and as he’d reminded her, communicating what they were thinking and feeling was refreshing. She meant to tell him about the possibility Vampire Legend would move production to Vancouver, but he fell asleep before she could, and the surprise waiting when they got to the hotel made her forget about everything else.

  “Ashleigh, look! Gram’s here!” Bella came running toward her with a big grin on her face—and a huge pink bow in her hair.

  “What’s in your hair?” Ashleigh couldn’t help but ask, gaping at the massive amount of fabric on the girl’s head.

  “Isn’t it fantastic?” Ruby Stockton came out of the bedroom with a grin on her face.

  Ashleigh gaped at her mother. “W-what, what are you doing here?” she asked, subconsciously reaching out to hug Bella, who was still talking.

  “…and a makeup kit and glitter nail polish and—”

  “Well, since you couldn’t bring my new granddaughter to me, I figured I’d come to you.”

  “I said we’d come for a visit as soon as filming ended.” Ashleigh was still in shock, suddenly remembering the surprise she’d brought for Bella.

  “I wanted to meet her.” Ruby pouted. “Don’t you want me here?”

  “Of course I do, Mama, but I’m in the middle of…” Her voice trailed off as Brock strolled in, having obviously heard the conversation from where he’d been waiting to surprise Bella just outside the door.

  “Guess who’s here?” He stepped into the room and Ashleigh nearly giggled at the look on both Bella’s and her mother’s faces.

  “Brock!” Bella launched herself at him full speed, but Ashleigh reached out to grab her just before she reached him.

  “Brock has broken ribs, sweetie,” she said in a breathless whisper. “You have to be gentle.”

  Bella’s eyes rounded. “Oh! I’m sorry. Does it hurt?” She approached him gingerly.

  “A little,” he smiled. “But it’s okay—I can still hug my favorite eight-year-old.”

  Bella giggled and wrapped her arms around him. He winced but shook his head at Ashleigh, indicating he didn’t want her to interfere.

  “So this is the husband I haven’t heard much about,” Ruby spoke up at last. “Looks like your own personal Grizzly Adams.”

  Ashleigh rolled her eyes. “Please, Mama. Be polite.”

  “About as polite as he’s been—hasn’t even come to meet his mother-in-law! What kind of Yankee manners are those?”

  “Mama!” Ashleigh hissed with embarrassment.

  “It’s all right, babe.” He leaned down and kissed Ashleigh firmly on the lips. “She’s right—I’ve been a little rude and I apologize. Mrs. Stockton, I’m Brock Lassiter.” He held out his hand, his gaze never leaving the older woman’s face. “I wish we could’ve made the trip to Alabama, but with me in the playoffs and Ashleigh here in Georgia, it got complicated. But you’re here now, and I’m so glad to finally meet you.”

  Ruby seemed momentarily speechless before grasping his hand and then pulling him in for a hug. “Well, look at those eyes. Aren’t you a handsome one, beard and all!”

  23

  The next hour was chaotic. Bella talked a mile a minute, as usual, and adding Ruby to the equation made it worse. It was like they were in a competition to see who could talk the longest and loudest and Ashleigh didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Brock sat beside her on the couch, one arm around her shoulders, surreptitiously squeezing her shoulder whenever he felt her tense. She was grateful for his presence and support, because her mother’s appearance just added another layer of stress. They needed time alone, and between Bella and Ruby, it didn’t look like they were going to get any.

  Brock had other ideas, though, because just after six o’clock, he got to his feet and tugged Ashleigh up with him.

  “It’s been a great afternoon, ladies, but I need a little alone time with my wife. I need to lay down for a while to rest my ribs, and Ashleigh and I have a few things to sort out to get us through the rest of the playoffs. Bella.” He turned to the little girl. “You and I have an ice skating date next time I see you, okay? Whether it’s here or in Vegas, just you and me. Deal?”

  “Oh, yes!” Bella’s face lit up.

  “Ms. Stockton, Ashleigh and I are going to make the time to come to Alabama once she’s done with the movie, and I was thinking of inviting my mom and grandmother along as well—so the whole family can meet.”

  “Well, that sounds lovely. I’d love to have everyone visit.” Ruby seemed a bit startled at his abruptness.

  “Are you able to get dinner for Bella, or should we call Jolinda?” His face was guileless, but Ashleigh had to bite her lip not to snicker at his obvious challenge.

  Ruby bristled slightly. “I think I can feed an eight-year-old. Goodness, I did raise a child of my own.”

  Brock gave her a grin. “Great. Thank you.”


  “Mama, you can order room service and hang out here,” Ashleigh interjected softly.

  “All right.” Ruby nodded, appearing cognizant Brock wanted time with his wife and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  Brock dragged Ashleigh into her room and nudged her toward the bathroom. “Get whatever you need for the night—I booked us our own room and a lobster dinner is going to arrive in approximately forty-five minutes.”

  She smiled, grabbing a mid-sized tote bag out of the closet and throwing in clean panties, her toothbrush, and a clean pair of shorts and a T-shirt, since that’s what she would wear to the set.

  “When did you book us our own room?” she asked when they were finally in the elevator heading up to the penthouse.

  “A couple hours ago, when I went to the bathroom.” He chuckled.

  “That was such a good idea—thank you.”

  “You looked shocked to see your mom. And Bella was in rare form, even for her.”

  Ashleigh shook her head. “It’s weird. When it’s just the two of us, she’s mellow. We cuddle, watch TV, play cards, read… She’s not hyper at all. But as soon as we’re around others—your mom, Sonya, Jet and Maya, and now my mom—she goes off.”

  “She craves attention,” he said. “She gets plenty from you, so when you’re alone she’s fine, but when she’s with people she wants attention from, she gets a little crazy.” He grimaced. “And that includes me.”

  “It’s the playoffs,” she said gently. “She has to learn you’ll never be available during the playoffs.”

  “But this is her first year as the kid of a hockey player—she probably doesn’t realize that yet.”

  Ashleigh sighed. “So many things to think about when you become the parent of an eight-year-old.”

  They got off on the top floor and were met by a bellman, who handed Brock two key cards.

  As soon as he was gone, they walked into the suite and Brock immediately went into the bedroom. He stretched out on the king-size bed and sighed.

  “Damn, that feels good.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, climbing in next to him. “I should’ve realized your ribs would be killing you all afternoon.”

  “It’s okay.” He smiled. “We didn’t have much choice.”

  She leaned over and took off his sneakers, tossing them on the floor. She unbuttoned his shirt and ran gentle fingers along his taped ribs. Her intentions weren’t sexual, but she found herself getting aroused anyway. He watched her through hooded eyes but didn’t say or do anything, letting her continue to touch him. She could feel him wince as her fingers trailed along his chest and she met his gaze.

  “I know you think you’re a big, bad tough guy, but I don’t think making love would be enjoyable for you tonight.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You’re kidding, right?”

  She smiled. “We’re married, and as of right now, we’re making a go of it—we have plenty of time to make love when just running my hands over your chest doesn’t make you wince.”

  He sighed. “Baby…”

  “Shhh.” She got up on her knees and rested one hand on either side of him, letting her mouth hover over his. “Don’t move.” She kissed him, sweetly, gently, her tongue seeking his more slowly than she’d ever done with anyone.

  “Sweet…” he whispered against her lips.

  “Mmm.” She kissed him some more, closing her eyes and losing herself in the warmth of his lips. His beard scratched her cheeks and chin as things intensified, but she could only sigh against him. She wanted to kiss him forever, never stop, until nothing else mattered but the two of them.

  Brock didn’t know what his beautiful, sexy wife was up to, but he liked it. She intoxicated him, made him forget why he’d remained single for so long, and when they were together like this nothing else mattered. He’d missed out on multiple opportunities to meet a special woman, but maybe that was because none of them had been Ashleigh. She was different in so many ways, and she was so many things he didn’t understand, but he was drawn to her like no one else he’d ever known. Not even Caroline. At this point, he could barely remember what he’d loved about Caroline, because when he thought about women, all he could envision was blonde hair, violet eyes, and a tiny dimple in the middle of her chin.

  If he was honest with himself, all he needed—hell, all he wanted—was his wife. He didn’t know when he’d started thinking of her that way, but she was all he’d been thinking about and now that they were together it felt like the most important thing in the world. And it wasn’t because he was hurt. He’d been injured dozens of times over the years, but this time was different. This time he’d been worried that his wife and kid were scared. He was acting like a grown-up for the first time, and it was out of character for him. Other than his mother, he was rarely concerned about anyone but himself since Caroline had left him. Getting married hadn’t changed much, but the emotional distance Ashleigh had put between them had changed everything. She cared about him. She’d become part of his crazy hot mess of a life and liked him anyway. Hell, he’d known she was falling in love with him—she’d said so—but he hadn’t given it a lot of thought at the time. Now he wanted to love her back. Maybe he already did.

  He wanted to give himself to her, tell her how much he wanted to change, how he wanted to be a different man than the one he’d been the last seven years. He wasn’t sure what had prompted this, but it didn’t matter. She mattered.

  He was startled out of his thoughts when Ashleigh started to unzip his shorts. She slid them down just enough to free his cock and he let out an involuntary shudder as he felt her breath graze the sensitive skin there.

  “Baby, what are…”

  “Just enjoy,” she whispered.

  “I thought you said you don’t like—” He groaned as she ran her tongue over him, pressure so light he wanted to arch up against her, but his ribs would undoubtedly protest that type of movement.

  “Actually, I said I preferred it,” she murmured between kisses, her lips moving along his length in tiny increments, “because penetration is painful and this isn’t. But with you? Penetration isn’t painful for me, but it would be for you today because of your ribs, so I’m giving you pain-free pleasure the way you gave it to me.”

  “Ashleigh…” His voice escaped in a breathy whisper. Her lips were hot and wet, getting his dick hard in mere seconds. He wasn’t used to going this long without sex, and having her mouth on him like this had him embarrassingly close to the edge. “Baby, I don’t know how long—”

  “Shh.” She sucked him deep, her hands at the base of his shaft, one caressing his balls, the other following the movement of her mouth as she slid up and down. Her tongue was swirling around the tip, licking him into oblivion before she all but swallowed him whole. His hips jerked, but the pain that shot through his ribcage paled in comparison to the way it felt when she swallowed and his cock hit the back of her throat.

  “Ashleigh! Shit!” He growled out her name as he shot off deep into her mouth, wincing a little when he heard her gag but unable to stop. She didn’t seem to mind, swallowing every drop and continuing to milk him dry. When he finally came back to reality, he found her gazing up at him, her violet eyes filled with an uncertainty he’d never seen before. Unsure what she was worried about, he cursed his inability to pull her on top of him and settled for tugging her forward until she was in the crook of his arm. “That was incredible, baby… Not a lot of women can take me all the way.”

  She gave a small shrug, her gaze shifting to some invisible point on the wall. “I honed the skill to distract men from wanting…” Her voice drifted off. “Sorry. I shouldn’t harp on that.”

  “If we talk about nothing else,” he said gently. “We should talk about anything related to sex—especially anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

  “It’s not that I’m uncomfortable…” She sighed. “It’s more that I’m…embarrassed.”

  “You’re embarrassed you give great head?” He wa
s surprised.

  “I’m embarrassed about how much head I had to give to get good at it.”

  “So you slept around.” He shrugged, though it was odd to hear her admit something like that. “Me too, you know? I wish people wouldn’t worry about how much sex is too much.”

  “It’s different for girls...”

  He agreed with her to a degree, but he had no room to talk. “But it shouldn’t be.” He used his finger to lift her chin until she was looking into his eyes. “People need to get over that kind of double standard. I’m not embarrassed that I’ve enjoyed sex in the past, and you shouldn’t be, either. The past is just that—past. I don’t care who you slept with or what you did with them; all I care about is what we’re doing now.”

  “That makes me happy.” She pressed her lips to his just as someone knocked on the door. “That must be our dinner.” She slid off the bed and straightened her top. “You want to eat in here or in the living room?”

  He grimaced. “I’m too sore to manage in bed—let’s eat in there.”

  “Okay.” She hurried to answer the door as he tucked himself back into his shorts and went to the bathroom to clean up.

  24

  They ate dinner, talked for a little while, and went back to bed. Brock slid between the cool sheets with a sigh of pleasure. As high as his tolerance for pain was, he hadn’t had any medication all day and it was starting to catch up to him. He was tired and sore, and as much as he wanted to ravage his beautiful wife, he didn’t think he was up to it—definitely a first for him. Ashleigh, however, seemed content to nestle against his side, her hand buried in the hair on his chest. She touched him a lot, without any sexual innuendo, and he wondered why. Was she afraid he would leave her in spite of their decision to make it work? He didn’t want to ask, not tonight, when they had so little time together, but in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but think she still didn’t trust him. He hadn’t given her any reason to, which made the situation that much more frustrating.

 

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