“Whoa! There’s that tension, Steve. What was that you were saying about rumor mills?”
“They will have a field day with this, Dave. The Harriers’ PR team must be pitching a fit as we speak. Oh, looks like the referee has finally made it out there, breaking up the fight between Dante Drake and Joel Palmer. And they are being escorted off; the Harriers receive two major penalties. Both star players are out for five. We’ll see how this affects…oh, and the Harriers score their first goal!”
“Oh, no.” I buried my face in my hands, my stomach rolling with guilt.
There was no way this wasn’t my fault. Joel and Dante had been so careful to keep their animosity out of the public eye, and now they were fighting on the ice? I should have kept my mouth shut, no matter how much Dante had pissed me off.
I looked at their faces as the camera panned over the penalty box. I saw fury etched into every line of Dante’s face. Joel just looked like a whipped puppy, sulking under his own personal dark cloud.
“Dante’s going to kill him,” I muttered, my heart lurching. “Or Joel’s going to quit. Damn it, Livia, why did you have to go and screw with everything?”
I buried my face in a pillow and screamed. I should have known that sports writing was a bad idea. I should have stuck with what I knew, stayed a little fish in the big pond, but no. I had to get all ambitious and reckless and…ugh.
This was not a good look for me. I threw the pillow away and stood up. Without a thought to my appearance, I shoved my feet into a comfortable pair of shoes and pulled on a thick-hooded sweatshirt. People always said that walking cleared their heads. It was time to test that theory; ice cream and pajamas certainly hadn’t helped.
Chapter 13
“Hi Joel, it’s Livia. I had a few follow-up questions for you. I don’t know when you’ll get this message, but it’s 10:30 in the morning now. If you could stop by my place sometime today, I would really like to do one final interview before I send this story to print.”
I hung up on his voicemail after leaving my address. I had been calm throughout that entire phone call, but now, it was time to call Dante. Strong, mixed feelings for the man made my mouth go dry. After a drink of water and several deep breaths, I dialed.
“Hello?”
I really hadn’t been expecting him to answer, and my stomach flopped.
“Hi, Dante, it’s Livia. I was hoping to get a follow-up interview with you—just a couple more questions before I wrap up this story.”
Silence answered me. It stretched out so long, I thought he had hung up.
“When?”
“Any time today. My place this time.”
“Why?”
His single syllables weren’t giving me much in the way of a read on his emotional state, which only heightened my anxiety. When I spoke again, it came out a squeak, and I had to clear my throat.
“I—um, excuse me—I saw the fight yesterday, and I think that there’s more to this story. I don’t want to miss anything.”
More silence. I was beginning to squirm, and I had the sneaking suspicion that he knew it.
“Same place I picked you up?” he asked.
“Yeah, just—”
The call ended.
“Wow. Rude.”
I sighed and ran my hands over my face. Not that I didn’t deserve it, but it was sort of killing me to suspect that the kind, sophisticated, smooth man I had met on our first date was a fabrication. Unless this was the fabrication, and that had been the reality…I couldn’t really see the cold, distant Dante getting into a fight over a girl in the middle of the game.
“Well, I guess I’m going to find out,” I said, glancing around my apartment.
I busied myself with tidying up while I was waiting. Not that there was a whole lot of tidying to do, but the uncertainty was stressful enough to make me go looking for dirt. Not knowing for sure whether either of them would show up or when was curdling my gut, so I blasted the feeling away with music and unnecessary chores.
Three hours later, my doorbell rang, shooting my heart into my throat. I hurried to the door and peeked through the peephole to see which of my warring suitors was waiting for me. To my shock, they were both there. I took a breath, smoothed my hair, and pulled the door open.
“Come on in,” I said, disguising my nerves with excessive warmth.
“We decided to do this together this time,” Joel said, almost apologetically.
He sported a deep purple black eye which I almost wanted to fuss over, but I doubted it would have done anything good for anybody’s ego. I showed them to the couch, and took the armchair across from them, notebook and pad in hand. I opened my mouth to speak, but Dante began first.
“I owe you an apology,” he said stiffly.
“I would say so,” I answered before I could stop myself.
“I wasn’t planning to tell you about the contest,” he said, shifting uncomfortably away from Joel as if trying to shut his existence out of his mind.
“Then why did you?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking away.
“Should I give you guys a minute?” Joel asked me.
I shrugged. Dante shook his head.
“I don’t know,” he said finally.
I didn’t believe him, but I decided to let him dodge for the moment.
“What was the fight about yesterday?” I asked.
“You,” Joel said honestly. “Dante accused me of using you, and I pointed out that he did the same thing, and—”
“You saw the rest, I assume,” Dante interrupted.
“Yeah, so about that…what the hell, guys? Dante, you’re a grown-ass man, and you’re playing these stupid college games. Joel, you have your whole career ahead of you, and you’re risking it to dogfight with a legend. Why?”
My frustration with the situation broke through the whole tangled mess, lending me a moment of much-needed clarity.
“Exactly,” Joel said, leaning forward earnestly. “That’s why I’m doing this. If I’m going to make it in the league, I need a reputation that doesn’t revolve around stained shirts and calls home to my mother. If I go head-to-head with Dante and win, people will stop screwing with me.”
“Screwing with you?” Dante asked, crinkling his forehead in confusion. “You were handed your place on the team. If the coach and the manager weren’t best buds with your old man, you never would have made it.”
I raised my eyebrows. I hadn’t heard this angle before, and I was intrigued. Joel sputtered for a moment, turning red.
“I wouldn’t have made it if I wasn’t good,” he said through his teeth, glaring at the floor. “My old man prepped me for this from when I was two. Okay? Just because he has connections, doesn’t mean I’m not good enough. It means I’m good enough and lucky.”
“Luck,” Dante said bitterly. “You think luck is going to earn you a career?”
“No!” Joel shouted, jumping to his feet. “I think practice, hard work and a team that doesn’t hate me is going to earn me a career. But I can’t practice, can I? Not with you guys, anyway. You’ve made it damn near impossible to exist in the same room as you. What are you scared of, Dante? You’ve had your shot! Ten years of it! How much spotlight do you need?”
Fury crossed Dante’s face and he tensed to move. I stood up and snapped my fingers.
“Not in my apartment. Joel, sit down. Dante, relax.”
They did as I said, to my astonishment, but continued to eye each other from either end of the couch.
“Joel has a point,” I told Dante. “How is he supposed to learn anything if you keep trying to get him to quit?”
“I’m not trying to get him to quit,” Dante objected. “I’m trying to make him earn it.”
“And you think after a year on the team, he still hasn’t earned it?” I asked, raising a dubious brow.
“No, I don’t,” he insisted.
“I think you just don’t want to admit that he has,” I said, crossing my
arms. “I think you’re dying to see him fail.”
Dante scoffed. “Why would I want that?”
“Because if he fails, it means you won’t be outshined when you finally take that retirement they’ve been pushing at you for the last year.”
I had done a bit of research since our last interview, and it seemed to have paid off; Dante looked away, the challenge in his eyes fading to something more introspective.
“So, what are the stakes right now? That fight yesterday couldn’t have gone over well.”
“It’s bad,” Joel said with a wince. “We’re both on notice. If I don’t show up to practice every time, I’m gone. If Dante screws with me, he’s gone. Any more fighting and we’re both gone.”
“It’s essentially over,” Dante said, shrugging a shoulder.
“You think fighting is inevitable?” I asked, raising a brow.
“Inevitable is a strong word,” Dante said, meeting my eyes evenly. “Difficult to avoid is better.”
“Why?” I asked.
Dante and Joel exchanged a look, the first one which held no animosity. I waited patiently, my entire body tingling the way it does just before I find the break in a story.
“He thinks I should have asked you out and treated you like a princess,” Joel said, cocking his head at Dante. “Instead of just messing around thirteen times.”
“I’m pretty sure it wasn’t thirteen,” I said with a laugh.
“And he seems to think that you aren’t worth the effort,” Dante answered with a smoldering glare.
“It’s not that, it’s—” Joel began defensively, but I held up a hand.
“Dante, why do you think I should be treated that way by Joel, specifically?” I asked.
He shrugged, his ears taking on a red tint. “Because you deserve it,” he said.
“But why Joel? The way I see it, there are two of you who could afford to slip the Prince Charming boots on.”
I gazed pointedly at him, and he squirmed.
“You don’t want me,” he said with an uncomfortable laugh. “You’re right; they’re pushing my retirement. Junior’s got the better part of a decade to wine and dine you in style. Me, I’m…” He shrugged, trailing off.
Joel’s eyes were bulging at this hint of vulnerability in the all-powerful legend. My heart was softening as all the pieces fell into place.
Dante was the man I’d met that first night, just wrapped in insecurity and facing an unpredictable future. Even his attitude toward Joel began to make sense. He was desperately thrashing against the inevitable, sucked down by the feeling that he was no longer good enough. At least, that’s how I would have written it, had I been doing a personality exposé on the formidable Dante Drake.
“Well, now,” I said thoughtfully. “You just went and gave me an idea, Mr. Drake.”
I crossed to the coffee table and sat down on it between them.
“You two need to learn how to work together. You, Joel, could benefit from taking some lessons from the master. And Drake…you need to see Joel as something other than your replacement. As his own person, someone you can mentor. You two need to…bond.”
I put one hand Dante’s knee, and my other on Joel’s.
“And I think I know how to do it.”
Chapter 14
They both began to sputter around questions and excuses and disbelief, but I ignored them. I kissed Joel with the quick, easy passion which came so naturally to him. He responded exactly the way I expected him to, his mind instantly derailed. Dante grew silent and furious beside me, and I laughed as I pulled away from Joel.
“Don’t be jealous,” I whispered as I held Dante’s face in my hands. “As I said, you’re the master. Joel sure has a lot to learn…” I touched his lips with mine, and flames licked my very soul.
Dante was hesitant but powerful, following my lead until he overtook it, turning the tables on me until I was a slave to his mouth. I shuddered with pleasure as his tongue tangled with mine, as his strong hand ran up my side until it was wrapped in my hair. He tugged gently, tearing a gasp from my throat.
He released me, casting a shifty look at Joel. Joel was alternating between excitement and confusion, and I laughed again.
“Come on,” I said to them as I took their hands in mine. “Show me you can play as a team.”
“Oh, God, you’re serious,” Joel groaned, his eyes darkening with lust.
He stood to follow me, but Dante held his seat firmly.
“I am not having sex with Joel,” he said, slowly and clearly.
I threw my head back and laughed.
“You don’t have to,” I said, catching my breath. “Just with me. Working toward a common goal…together.” I bit my lip and gazed at him from under my lashes. “It’ll be a good team-building exercise.”
“I sense an ulterior motive,” he observed, quirking his lips.
“Call it my way of apologizing for pitting you two against each other,” I offered. “I owe you one.”
“Or thirteen,” Dante said with a dry look at Joel.
“More like seven?” I still couldn’t remember, and shook my head. “That’s a scoreboard for another day. Come on—are you really telling me that you don’t want to equalize?”
It was a cheap shot, but it worked. Dante lifted his chin and stood, but still resisted when I tried to walk to the bedroom. I glanced at him over my shoulder with a questioning brow.
“I’m not touching anybody’s dick but my own,” he said firmly.
“Ditto,” Joel said with a grin.
“Are we all agreed, then?” I asked with an expression bordering on an eye-roll.
We were.
Electricity raced over my skin as I walked to the bedroom, holding two men’s raw sexual energy in my hands.
Chapter 15
When the bedroom door closed, everyone froze. My sudden impulse was quickly becoming reality, and I had a moment when I wondered if I was completely out of my mind. But then, Dante pressed his hand to the small of my back, guiding me toward my pink duvet-covered bed, and Joel laced his fingers in mine.
My heart began to race with something far more pleasant than anxiety, and I allowed myself to be pulled and pushed until I was lying on my back, looking up at the two hockey players.
An instinct halfway between fear and excitement rippled through me like a snake, making me shiver with anticipation. Joel ripped his own clothes off and leapt onto the bed beside me, hooking an arm around my waist and kissing my mouth. I returned the kiss in kind, reflecting that teenage glee which exuded from him.
I reached for Dante, silently asking him to come closer. His warm hand slid over my knee and up my thigh, instantly filling me with hot, liquid lust. Slowly and meticulously, he touched every inch of skin, traveling up under my skirt. I opened to him, gasping into Joel’s mouth.
Joel groaned and peeled the straps off of my shoulders, releasing my breasts. Dante touched the wet crease of my panties, shooting mind-bending sensations over my body as Joel’s hungry mouth wrapped around my firm, hard nipple. Moaning with need, I arched against Dante’s hand, only for him to take it away.
“Don’t stop,” I whimpered huskily.
He only grinned at me and knelt down at the edge of the bed between my knees. Joel ravaged my breasts with hands and mouth, making me dizzy with desire as Dante slid my panties down my legs. My belly quivered with anticipation.
Hot breath warmed my most intimate places and I gasped, gripping the sheets with one hand and Joel with the other. He groaned, flicking his tongue over my nipple, as I slid my hand over his throbbing, hard cock.
Dante’s lips touched me, light as a petal, hot like fire. His tongue slid inside of me, tasting, teasing. I stroked Joel with a feverish need, egging him on until he bruised my tender flesh with forceful, desperate hands and violent kisses. Rough tongue and smooth lips coaxed me to the edge; firm fingers kept me there.
My legs shook and I groaned with need as Dante teased, torturing me with his calm
, steady touch. Joel began to growl, thrusting into my grip. The palpable heat of his lust in my hand, in his breath, in every tense and quaking line of his body fed my own, and when Dante finally plunged his fingers deep inside me, the universe exploded in my head.
My primal scream was echoed by Joel’s. Dante’s warm, smooth chuckle rippled through the wild atmosphere, like a lifeline to my drifting consciousness. Joel rolled over, momentarily sated, and I curled up to wrap my arms around Dante’s strong neck.
He met my kiss with his crushing intensity, pressed me deeper into the bed, and came to hover over me. He demanded my mouth and I gave it willingly, tangling myself around him, desperate for more. His hands slid under my skirt to peel my dress from my body. I lay naked under his gaze, basking in the smoldering appreciation beaming from his green eyes.
He absorbed me with a glance, trailing his eyes over my skin, leaving a tingling excitement in his wake. His hands trailed after, hypnotizing me with the softness of their firm touch. Then his lips—in the hollow of my throat, over the marked skin of my swollen breasts, down my belly to the subtle curve above my hips. From the corner of my eye, I saw Joel watching.
Yes, grasshopper, I thought in ecstasy as Dante seduced every molecule of my body. Take it all in. Learn from the master.
Joel was getting excited again, which piqued my own arousal. Dante moved up to take my mouth again as Joel moved down, using his mouth and hands in a decent impression of Dante, igniting my hips and thighs.
Dante slid his hand down to circle one lazy finger around my clit, just enough to make me moan, then slid it up my belly once more. Joel took the indication for what it was, pressing his lips to the spot, ripping a cry of pleasure from my throat.
That animal look lit Dante’s eyes, and he stripped out of his clothes. His caramel skin was radiating heat, drawing me in.
As Joel lapped at me, making my hips rock in time with his tongue, I drew Dante toward my mouth. His hard, velvet-sheathed erection glistened tantalizingly, making my mouth water. I guided him into my mouth, wrapping my lips around him, making him groan with pleasure.
His Eternal Flame Page 63
