by Adele Hart
“Clint, there you are you dog.” A beefy blond guy reaches down and punches Clint on the bicep. “The guys are pissed. We’ve been waiting for you to start the poker game at the back.” He looks me up and down and then grins. “But I can see you’ve got a better game going on up here.”
I clear my throat and sit up straight. “No, there’s no game here.”
Clint gives me a long look and then lowers his voice. “You sure? I’m pretty good at math puzzles. I could help you finish that page you’re on.”
“I don’t need any help,” I shake my head.
Shrugging, Clint stands and then points to the puzzle I was just working on. “Sure you do. That should be a nine.”
Four
Clint
By the time Hunter and I settle into our tiny apartment in Athletes’ Village, I’m wiped. It’s been close to twenty-six hours since I woke up and in that time, I’ve been drunk, sober, drunk, and now sober again. As I lay my head down on my pillow in my apartment and close my eyes, it’s her face that fills my brain. Even though we didn’t talk again during the entire rest of the flight, I couldn’t get her off my mind the whole time. Not when I was beating the rest of the guys at poker, not when I was watching Ocean’s Eleven through Thirteen on my iPad, not when I was waiting at the carousel for my bags. I went up to the front of the plane as casually as I could no less than three times, but that girl can sleep. She somehow managed to block out all that noise and slept for at least ten hours.
At one point when I walked by, I couldn’t help but stare at her for a bit. Her angel blond hair had fallen across her face and my fingers ached to reach out and brush it off her cheek. But I had to stop myself in case one of the guys saw. They’d never let me live that down.
I should be exhausted, but I can’t sleep. There is an energy coursing through my veins that I’ve never felt before, and I know it has everything to do with her. My feisty little kitty. My dick gets hard as images of her flash through my brain. I think about all the ways I want to be with her. When I first laid eyes on her scowling, beautiful face, I was overcome by the urge to throw her over my shoulder and make my way to the bathroom so I could have my way with her on the counter. When I sat next to her in the seats, it was all I could do not to pull her onto my lap and slide my hand into those yoga pants she was wearing.
My hand glides down under my sheets and I tug my boxer briefs out of my way. There’s no way I’m going to fall asleep until I work out a bit of this tension she caused. I rub and tug on my cock, wishing it were her mouth instead of my hand. Thoughts of her full lips sucking me deep and pulling me in till I hit the back of her throat fill my brain. I can picture her tight, toned little figure and I know she must be incredibly bendy. Precum seeps out of the head of my cock and I feel that throbbing and pulsing all the way through my body. I work my dick hard now and rough thinking of Danika until I blow my wad, forcing myself to stay silent. I get myself cleaned up using some tissues on the night stand, then lay back staring at the ceiling.
As I finally drift off to sleep, something deep inside me tells me I’m going to see her again and that I’m gonna make her mine. It’s that same voice that told me I was going to make the pros. The same voice that knew I was going to score the game-winner in the Stanley Cup two years ago. I roll onto my side and fall into a deep sleep, filled with longing and excitement.
Five
Danika - Two Days Later
My heart picks up its pace as I step inside the Ice Pavilion, built specifically for the Winter Games. It’s a huge, beautifully constructed place meant to impress. This is really happening. A kaleidoscope of butterflies flutter around in my stomach as I grip the handle of my leather skate bag.
Tasha slaps me on the arm. “Can you freaking believe this? We’re really freaking here at the mother freaking Winter Games!”
“I know, right?” There is nothing on this planet that could wipe the smile off my face right now. Except maybe Brooke Donovan, who happens to be making a beeline for us at the moment.
She gives us each that patented Brooke once over complete with a tiny wrinkling of her nose, then says, “Hey, girls. I see you finally made it to Korea.”
This is her little way of telling us she got here two weeks ago on her parents’ private jet, along with her coach and physiotherapist. Brooke’s family has all but bought her way to the games. Like mine, I suppose, except without the double mortgage.
She grins down at us. “I guess neither of you heard either.”
“Heard what?” Tasha asks.
Brooke rolls her eyes. “We’ve been bumped by an hour. The men’s hockey team stole our ice time.”
“What? Why?” I craned my neck to look past Brooke but it’s no use. She’s almost six feet tall to my 5’1”.
“I guess they’re more important than us. ESPN wants to film them and get some interviews on ice for tonight’s news back home. Apparently, the rivalry between our guys and the Canadians heated up last night. There was a bit of a brawl in the gym.”
“Seriously? I thought Canadians were supposed to be so nice.” For some crazy reason, I find myself concerned about Clint. “Did anyone get hurt?”
“One guy from the Canadian team has a busted jaw!” Brooke says, slapping her thigh with one hand as she snort laughs.
“A broken jaw? That’s awful,” Tasha says. “I hope it isn’t Jared. I was really hoping to give that part of his body a good workout.”
She wanders off in the direction of the rink and I hurry to follow her. When I step inside the arena, I find Tasha standing on the steps about half way down the stands. Brooke stays with me, in spite of the ‘go away’ vibe I’m trying to give off.
The space smells of fresh paint and a hint of sweaty male. The white surface of the ice gleams under the new lights. I freeze and watch as the players take turns whipping slap shots at the goalie, my eyes scanning for Clint the entire time. Then I see him, standing with a small woman in a blue dress. She’s holding a microphone and talking into a camera while Clint leans on his stick and grins down at her.
“He is hot with a capital H,” Brooke sighs.
“Who?” I ask, pretending that I wasn’t just drooling over him.
Brooke gives me a skeptical look, then says, “Clint Sullivan. Did you not see the spread of him in People’s Hottest Athletes Going to the Games last month?”
“Must have missed it.”
“Oh, that’s a shame, Danika, because…” She finishes the thought by biting the side of her finger. “Too bad he’s engaged.”
“He’s what?”
“Yeah. To some Victoria’s Closet model. My mom is good friends with Victoria so she told her at a garden party in the Hamptons on Labor Day weekend.” Brooke holds a hand up to me. “But you can’t say anything to anyone because, like, nobody knows about it and she’s still in the middle of divorcing some Greek shipping mogul so it would really mess up her life if anyone found out.”
My heart sinks to my feet. That makes sense. Of course he’s with an underwear model. “Whatever, I met him on the plane. He’s pretty full of himself.”
“When you look like him and play like him, you can afford to be full of yourself.” Brooke shakes her head and stares at him some more.
Tasha and I make our way down to the dressing room, managing to ditch Brooke when a few more of the girls came into the arena and she needed to rush over to tell them the big news. I manage to put Clint Sullivan out of my head and get back to remembering why I’m here. Tasha and I sit in silence on the long wooden bench and grin at each other.
I whisper to her, “We made it.”
“We sure as shit did, hun.”
I lean back against the smooth wall behind me and close my eyes. As soon as I do, Clint’s face pops into my mind, just as it’s done every time I’ve closed my eyes since the flight two days ago. I sit up straight and open my eyes, willing myself to just forget him and his dream girl in her tiny panties and D cups.
“You okay?” Tas
ha asks.
“Yup. Great. Never better.”
“You sure? Because you’ve been pretty distracted since we got here.”
“Of course I’m distracted. We’re at the freaking Winter Games.”
“I’m thinking it might have more to do with a certain hockey player who couldn’t stop walking past your seat while you slept the entire flight.”
My cheeks burn hot. “He did not. And even if he did, I would never go for a guy like him. He’s a big meathead.”
She shrugs. “Haven’t you ever heard that opposites attract?”
“Not in this case…” I trail off when the door swings open and in walks Clint looking absolutely enormous with the extra height from his skates.
He smiles when he sees me and lets the door shut behind him. “Feisty kitty.”
“Aren’t you in the wrong dressing room?”
“Since you’re in here, it looks pretty right to me.” His helmet is off and his dark hair is soaked with sweat, and for some stupid reason, my girl parts are finding that attractive instead of a turnoff.
Tasha quickly stands, saying, “I forgot to bring that thing I left at that place…”
“No, you didn’t forget it,” I say through gritted teeth. “I picked it up for you. It’s in my b—”
The door swings shut behind her, leaving me alone with Hottie McEngaged Man. He gives me that smirk that makes my knees buckle and I force myself to look away.
“Well, great to see you. Good luck out there.” I reach down and pull a skate out of my bag, then attempt to put it on over my right Ugg boot.
Clint chuckles. “Is that the secret to all those twirls you ladies do? You wear your winter boots under your skates?”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, yeah, I’m a little…keyed up at the moment, so if you don’t mind, I should try to calm myself down a bit before practice.”
“Do I make you nervous, Kitty?”
“No. Why would someone like you make me nervous?”
“Because I want you. Kitty and all.”
My mouth drops open and instead of closing it, I bite my bottom lip. Clint stares at me and I swear to God he’s pulling all the dirty thoughts I’ve had about him out of my mind. I’m suddenly flush with embarrassment and lust. Underwear model fiancée. I clear my throat and sit up tall. “Listen, thanks for the flattery. I’m sure most girls would jump at the chance to be your Winter Games hook-up, but I’m not one of them.”
“Oh, no, Kitty,” he says, shaking his head a little. “This wouldn’t be just a hook-up. If you and I get this fire started, it’s going to burn hot, hard, and for a very long time.”
Well, now, my entire body just went to jelly. Where’s Tasha when I need her? Some friend, abandoning me with this incredible hockey god who’s looking at me like he wants to lick me from my toes to my neck. I shake my head to snap myself out of it. “No, thanks.” My voice comes out high pitched and weak which is not what I was going for at all.
“It’s okay to be scared.”
“I’m not scared, but I’m also not stupid.”
Nodding, he says, “Oh, you’re scared all right.”
“This is never going to happen.” I point back and forth from my chest to him.
“And why’s that?”
“First of all, because I’m not going to blow this for myself. When you fly home, you’ll go back to making millions, even if you leave here empty-handed. If I don’t medal, I go back to being broke, and if I’m lucky, I’ll get another shot in four years, but most likely, I won’t.”
Clint nods and his face grows serious. “And second?”
“What?”
“You said, first of all. That usually means there’s more.”
“Second is that I just don’t like you that much.” I think about his fiancée to stop myself from grinning at the shocked look on his face. I don’t bring her up even though I know if I did, this entire thing would be over instantly and I could get started on forgetting about him.
“Liar.”
“Arrogant goon.”
He shrugs like that’s not an insult. “I may be arrogant, but I’m also right about you. You want me.”
“I do not. You’re so not my type.”
“How do you know that? You don’t even know me.”
“Name the last book you read and when.”
“The Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell. Finished it this morning at breakfast.”
Oh, well, I wasn’t expecting that. I shake my head. “All right, so you read. Big deal. Still not interested. Now, you should get going so I can concentrate.”
“I can help you, you know. I’m really good at helping people get in the zone.”
“In the zone? Oh, please. You’ll try anything.”
“When it comes to you, I will.” He smiles. “And I didn’t mean it that way. I meant that a lot of the time when one of the guys on the team is struggling, the coach gets me to have a talk with him. Usually helps.”
“Oh. Well, thanks. If I need help, I’ll come find you.”
“You do that. I’m in building two in the village, apartment thirty-six.” He opens the door, then turns and points back and forth between him and me. “This is going to happen, Dani.”
As soon as the door shuts, I melt into the bench and groan. What the hell just happened? He reads? And he’s some sort of hockey player whisperer. And he’s lickably hot. But he’s also a cheating bastard. Damn underwear models! Who invented them in the first place?
Six
Clint
After I shower, I decide to sit in the stands and watch Danika practice. She’s amazing. A tiny, little ball of strength and agility as she performs her routine over and over. Her coach is a typical dickhead. Never smiling, never satisfied with what she does, no matter how graceful or perfect it looks to me. He just glares, arms folded, shaking his head. Barking orders. Wanting more.
As the practice wears on, I can see she’s getting tired, even though she’s in incredible shape. The more exhausted she gets, the more trouble she has sticking her landing after her triple salchow. She falls again and again and I can tell by her face, she’s getting more discouraged by the second. I want to rush down and carry her off the ice, punch her coach in the face, and take her home with me. Rage courses through my veins as I watch but I know I can’t interfere. I don’t even know her, no matter how much I want her.
Finally, her practice ends and she hangs her head as she steps off the ice. I stand and make my way down to the hallway where the dressing rooms are and wait for her to come out. It takes her almost half an hour to shower and get dressed, but somehow, I know she’s worth the wait. When she comes out, she doesn’t notice me at first. She’s looking down at the floor as she walks.
“You all right?” I ask, keeping my voice gentle, even though I’d like to kick the shit out of her coach.
She looks up, surprise crossing her tear-stained face. “What are you doing here?”
“I watched your practice. Your coach is a real prick.”
Shaking her head, she says, “It’s not him. It’s me. I fell apart out there.”
“I thought you were doing fine until he just kept pushing you past your limits.”
Dani starts walking quickly, passing me as she pulls her wool hat over her wet hair. “He knows what he’s doing. He’s had two skaters medal at the last three Winter Games.”
I match her pace as she hurries to the exit. “If he’s so great, why have you been crying?”
Dani stops in her tracks and turns to me. “Can you just…not…” When she turns to keep walking, I grab her arm with my hand and stop her.
“Dani, you can talk to me.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“Let’s change that.” I reach up and touch her cheek with my fingers. Her skin is every bit as soft as I thought it would be.
She closes her eyes for a second, then opens them and says, “If I were your fiancée, I wouldn’t want you treating another woman like this.”
&nb
sp; Where did that come from? “If you were my fiancée, I wouldn’t treat another woman like this.”
“Clint, please. Just go back to your underwear model.”
“Are you talking about Ashley?”
“I don’t know her name. I just know you’re engaged.”
“No, I’m not.” I shake my head. “She wanted me to propose and I thought about it, but then her ex bought her a yacht and she went back to him. Where’d you hear that anyway?”
“One of the girls on the team knows someone who knows someone who knows Ashley.”
“Well, that sounds like a reliable source.” I stare down at her, feeling irritated by the gossip mill and a little bit at Danika for believing it. “I have to say, I’m a little insulted that you’d think I’d be hitting on you if I were engaged. Just because I’m a hockey player doesn’t mean I’m an asshole.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed the worst, but to be fair, you’re probably the most cocky guy I’ve ever met and that’s saying something.”
“Cocky, yes. But I’m also loyal.” I smile down at her. “And very single.”
“Listen, Clint, I really can’t do this.”
“Why not?”
She shakes her head, looking adorably irritated. “I’ve already told you. I’m here to win and that doesn’t involve letting some guy distract me.”
“I’m not just some guy. I’m the right guy.” I lower my face to hers and hold my lips an inch from hers. “I’m going to help you win.”
Seven
Danika
I close my eyes just as his lips touch mine. Softly. Slowly. Carefully, as though he’s testing the waters with one toe only to find me warm and inviting. The sounds of voices echoing around the enormous stadium fade into the background as I let myself disappear into him.
