PUCK (A BAD BOY HOCKEY ROMANCE)

by Marx, Jessica

  “I guess you’re right. And if you two are serious, there will be plenty of chances to meet him again,” she tells me with a tray of roast chicken in her hands. “Now open the door and let’s bring this all outside. It’s still beautiful out, so we might as well take advantage of it.”

  We step outside and the men scurry to make room on the table. Then we sit back down and enjoy the rest of the meal.

  It is perfect outside. I always loved my backyard growing up, although I didn’t appreciate it as much until I left and moved to the city. Our home is on the open bay and on quiet summer nights, overlooking the calm waters brings a sense of peace and tranquility. The only sounds are that of small boats passing slowly by on their way in or out of the inlet.

  The conversation flows easily. I keep catching Jayson looking at me but I pretend not to notice. The three glasses of wine are definitely helping my nerves and my confidence here. I don’t realize that I might have drank too much until I stand to help clear the table and it takes me a few seconds to balance. Everyone is getting up, clearing plates and going back and forth to the kitchen. My mother asks me to set my dessert out on the kitchen table.

  As I pull my strawberry shortcake out of the fridge, Mom announces, “Oh, Ashley, my favorite! You’re so good to me.”

  I set the plates on the table and take a nice piece of shortcake for myself, adding strawberries and whipped cream. “I think I’m going to sit on the deck for dessert. I don’t get to spend enough time outside at home,” I report on my way out the door.

  “I’ll keep you company,” Jayson says, making his own plate and following me out.

  “Great. Thanks,” I mutter under my breath. So much for peace and tranquility.

  I proceed to the edge of the deck and sit on a lounge chair, lying back with my cake and taking a big breath of the night air. Jayson makes himself comfortable in the chair next to mine and puts his feet up, digging his fork into his cake and taking a heaping bite.

  “Did you really make this?” he asks.

  I shove a bite of my own into my mouth. “Yup.”

  “A woman who can cook in the bedroom and the kitchen. It’s like a dream come true.”

  “You have no idea what happens in my bedroom,” I reply.

  “Apparently not much, if you’re relying on that no-show boyfriend of yours,” Jayson quips.

  Damn, he’s good. I’m pretty drunk and I’m having trouble forming a comeback. He looks at me and dips his finger into his whipped cream, then meets my eyes as he proceeds to provocatively and suck the cream off of the end of it. If we’re playing games, I’m losing. He continues talking since I have no response.

  “I’ve been thinking about you since we met the other night.” My heart stops. Is he for real, or is he playing me? Either way, it’s working. I’m so fucking hot right now and he’s barely said anything.

  “Oh, yeah? I saw you with that blonde chick when I was leaving. It looks like you forgot about me pretty quick,” I say, wondering if he hears my voice wavering.

  “You noticed, huh? Well, don’t worry your pretty little head over it. She was no big deal. I would have rather gone home with you,” he answers. Shit. I shouldn’t have let him know I noticed.

  “I’m not into players or one-night stands. You’re really not my type—at all.”

  “I hear what you’re saying, but your body tells me I am very much your type,” Jayson replies effortlessly.

  “My body and my brain are on the same page. I think you’re just such an arrogant prick that you can’t understand how a woman couldn't be into you.” Finally, I sound a lot more sure of myself than I feel.

  With that the patio door opens and Eric comes out, sitting himself on the bench across from us. He has no idea how perfect his timing is.

  “I think I’m going to head home in a few, sis. If you need a ride to the train, I can take you,” he offers. I think I’ll take him up on it. I’ve had too much to drink and as much of Jayson as I can handle.

  “I’m headed back to the city, too,” Jayson chimes in. “Mind if I hitch a ride?”

  What the fuck.

  “Sure, no problem,” Eric replies.

  Son of a bitch!

  The three of us get up and walk back inside to say goodbye. Tom is apparently spending the night at my mother’s house, which I’m sure he often does. I do a double-take when I see Matt pick up a set of keys off the counter. “You’re driving back into Manhattan?”

  “No, I’m headed to West Hampton for the rest of the weekend. I figured since I was already coming this way I would crash at my friend’s house for the night,” he answers, having no idea what havoc he is wreaking on my life right now.

  I’m screwed. I can’t stay here and I have no other way back. Time to put on my big girl pants and get ready for the ride home.

  We all say our goodbyes and I hug my mom, promising to come back very soon. She also promises to meet me for lunch. I shake Tom’s hand and say, “So nice to meet you. You make my mother very happy. Thank you.”

  He smiles at me. “Of course. She is an amazing woman.” And then he takes her hand in his. They look like teenagers in love.

  The four of us head out the front door. Matt says goodnight and gets into his car and Eric, Jayson, and I get into Eric’s Jeep. I am half-listening to the small talk between Eric and Jayson while mentally preparing myself for the next hour and a half. I’m trying to conjure my best bitch persona so I can be ready for the battle of wits I am sure is coming.

  * * *

  _____

  * * *

  “Well-played,” I mutter once Jayson and I are standing in the station. Eric left us back by the entrance. I wish I’d had an excuse not to let him go.

  “What do you mean?” Jayson inquires, his eyebrows raised. “You live in Manhattan, I live in Manhattan. We both need the train to get home. No game here.”

  “Just don’t get any ideas,” I warn him. “I don’t even want to sit next to you right now.”

  And I don’t. I want to sit on his lap, naked, and ride him the whole way home, but that’s not going to happen, ever. I won't let it. I erase the thought from my mind when I hear the train coming down the tracks.

  “Easy, Ashley. I’m not as evil as you think,” Jayson says, sounding just a little bit hurt. Does he have feelings, after all?

  The train comes to a stop, the doors open, and we board. There are very few people headed west this time of night, so it’s pretty empty. I choose a seat and place my bag down next to me, assuring Jayson can’t sit there. Instead he makes himself comfortable across from me. Now I have to look at him for the whole ride. Maybe this was a bad idea.

  We sit in silence for the first several minutes. I feel awkward, so I pull out my phone and pretend to be very interested in it. I see a text from Rachel asking how it’s going. I answer, Talk tomorrow. There’s no way to begin explaining how tonight was going.

  I see a text from Michael also. Sorry, Ash. I never meant to hurt you. I just erase it. There’s no point in dwelling on our relationship, I don’t forgive cheating.

  “You are so beautiful,” Jayson says, startling me. I look up and he is staring right at me. “There are so many things I want to do to you.”

  “I’m sure there are, but it’s not going to happen. Do you even know how to have a normal conversation?” Seriously, does he? He only speaks to me in sexual innuendoes.

  “Of course I do, but something about you makes me want to forget everything else. I’m actually a really nice guy.”

  “I have a hard time believing that,” I snark.

  “It’s true. But I like teasing you. You’re different,” he says.

  “How?” I ask, and I really want to know. What makes him think he can talk to me like this?

  “I know you think I’m hot, but I also know you’re not going to make it easy for me. You’re beautiful and witty, and if you really thought I was an ass, you would have slapped me when I dropped that first line on you at the bar—which, by th
e way, I would never have used if I couldn’t tell that all just by looking at you.”

  Jayson tells me this with the confidence of someone who thinks they know everything. He actually hit the nail on the head, though, so maybe at least when it comes to women, he does know a lot.

  “You seem to think you know me pretty well. But I’m still not convinced even part of you is a nice guy,” I reply.

  “I can be a very nice guy,” he insists, looking into my eyes. I am entranced and I want to hear more, but say nothing in return. He continues, “If I were so lucky as to be given the chance, I would take you out for a nice dinner at one of my favorite Italian places. We would order a nice bottle of wine and enjoy some good conversation—you know, the kind where we talk and laugh and get to know each other better. We would share a sweet dessert and by the time we left, we would be walking hand in hand.

  “I would take you back to your apartment, and before we said goodnight, I would slowly run my hand over your cheek, grasp your chin, lean closer, and kiss you on your sweet lips.” His description has me melting into my seat. I can almost taste his lips on mine.

  “Then what?” I ask, not realizing I am saying it out loud until I hear it myself.

  “Then I would part your lips with my tongue and kiss you while I ran my hands down the curve of your back. I would pull you into me so our bodies were pressed together and slowly start kissing your neck, letting you feel how hard I get just from kissing you.”

  His description makes me feel like I am right there with him. He hasn’t looked away from my eyes for a second. I lean toward him, wanting him to make it real. I don’t care what I thought before I got onto this train. All I know now is that I want Jayson. I need him. Now.

  He leans in and runs his fingers through my hair and rests his hand on my cheek. Our lips touch, and without any hesitation, we kiss. My hands find their way up to his neck and I’m rubbing the back of it and pulling him closer into me. The heat between us is deep and primal. Our tongues are twirling in rhythm as he runs his hands through my hair, kissing me deeply and passionately. It feels like the kiss lasts for hours, but when we hear the call for the next station we are startled back into reality.

  I lean back into my seat, and him into his, and we just look at each other. What the hell is happening? I can’t fall for another player—a bad boy. He talks a good game, and fucking-A, he can turn me on, but I just got caught up in the moment. This isn’t going anywhere. I’ll just be another notch on his bedpost. I can’t let myself fall for him like this.

  “That was even better than I thought it would be” Jayson says, breaking the silence.

  “It was nice,” I say softly. That’s all I can give him.

  He quirks a brow. “Nice? I can think of much better ways to describe it. Guess I’ll have to work on my moves.”

  “You don’ t have to. I don’t think that will be happening again.” I sound cold. Which is a feat, because I’m still hot from that kiss.

  “Why not? I thought it was pretty fucking awesome, and I would love to see what the rest of your body is capable of.”

  “Number one, you’re a player. Once you actually have me, you’ll move on to your next victim and I’m not looking to get into a situation like that. Number two, you’re what? Twelve, fifteen years older than me? Number three, my mother and your father are pretty serious about each other. That makes us practically related, which makes ‘us’ just weird.” The effect of his kiss is wearing off and I’m getting my bearings back.

  “You shouldn’t be so quick to judge. Number one, yeah—I love the ladies and I love to fuck, but that doesn’t make me incapable of having feelings for a woman. And number two, I just turned thirty-five, and even though I’m older than you, we are both adults and can make our own choices. And number three, Miss Porter, even if our parents decided to get married and live happily ever, after we wouldn’t be living under the same roof. There’s nothing weird about it.” His voice holds such conviction.

  We sit in silence for what’s left of the ride home. I can’t help think about what he said. Yes, we are both adults, but I’m still considered a teenager and he’s in his mid-thirties and a successful businessman. How would being together not seem strange?

  That kiss, though. It was magical, and the chemistry between us and the heat we created was real and raw.

  But the fact remains that Jayson is a player and my future stepbrother. It—we—just can’t be.

  8

  JAYSON

  * * *

  I know it’s not in my head. The signs Ashley’s been sending me are unmistakable. She may not want to admit it, but she digs me. I know she feels the magnetism we have. Maybe it’s just sexual right now, but I know it goes deeper. I know because I’ve never felt that with any woman—ever.

  How can she even try to deny it after that kiss? She was screaming for more with every stroke of her tongue. If we weren’t on the train, who knows how far we would have taken it? I need her to understand my feelings are real. I don’t know a lot about her yet, but I want to. I actually want to spend time with her and do fun things—things that people in an actual relationship do.

  And how can she think that just because my father and her mother are in love, we can’t be? All the more reason to believe what we feel is real. We’re all adults. Ashley seems mature for her age, and no matter how old she is, I can’t help what I feel. I can’t let her go without her giving me a real chance. I have to help her realize that we can have something great together. I can’t let her go.

  I need to kiss her again. I need her to feel me again. I need to get her back to the forbidden place that she doesn’t want to go so she can understand how real this is. I think that’s the only way to break her down enough to get through to her. When she lets her guard down, I know she feels it too.

  I’m not giving up on her. I can’t. I can truly love this woman. I already know that she is all I’ll ever need.

  9

  ASHLEY

  * * *

  We exit the train and walk up into to Penn Station. It’s late on a Saturday night so it’s somewhat busy, complete with drunken barely-legals stumbling around, looking for their train home.

  We make our way up to the street and I try to say goodnight and hail a cab. Jayson and I haven’t said anything to each other since the kiss.

  “Not a chance you’re going home alone,” he tells me.

  I roll my eyes. “I’m a big girl. I’ve taken plenty of taxis. I’ll be fine.”

  “Not on my watch, Ashley,” he says as he gets in the backseat of the cab with me. I wish he wouldn’t say my name. The sound of it coming out of his mouth is heavenly.

  I tell the driver my address and he takes off. I’m trying to leave enough space between Jayson and I so there is no opportunity for us to touch—even accidentally. I have to physically restrain myself from this man. He makes me feel like I have no control.

  “Well, it seems we don’t live too far from each other. Small world,” Jayson says, smiling at me.

  “Too small, sometimes,” I mutter. How is it that of all the men I see every day, this one may one day be my stepbrother?

  The taxi is at my building already. I try again to say goodnight and leave without Jayson, but he pays the driver and hops out behind me.

  “What are you doing?” I ask him, knowing very well what he’s trying to do.

  “Just making sure you get home safe and sound,” he replies.

  “I am home. I have a few feet left to walk to my door. You should have stayed in the cab. You’ll never get one over here this time of night.”

  “Hey, you can never be too safe,” he says as I turn my back and start walking away. He grabs my hand and pulls me around to face him. We’re dangerously close again. I take a step back but he doesn’t let go.

  “Ashley,” he says in a breathy voice. Oh my God, please stop saying my name. I can’t take it. “You can’t deny that there’s something between us. I know you feel it.”

&nbs
p; “I can. It doesn’t matter what I feel. I already told you why I can’t fall for you.” I avert my eyes. I can’t bear to meet his gaze.

  “I think you already did,” he whispers, and with that, Jayson puts his strong hands on my face and gently pulls my mouth to his again. I try not to give in, but I have to concede. I want him—all of him. It may be foolish, but I can’t resist.

  Our bodies are pressed together and his hands are on my back, pulling me tight against him. I feel his erection against me and my knees grow weak. Our tongues are intertwined, and no matter how deep our kiss is, it’s like we are trying to get closer and deeper. Jayson slides his hands back up to my neck and rests his fingers in my hair and thumbs on my cheeks. He slowly pulls away and I see his face is red and his lips are swollen.

  “Give me a chance, Ashley. I promise I will make it worth your while.”

  Strange thing is, I believe him. Maybe I should give him a chance. Maybe he can change. All I know is that kiss made me weak, and I want more.

  “One chance, Jayson. You better make it count,” I warn him as I kiss him on the cheek and start to walk to my door. He begins to follow me, but I’m not playing his game. This is my turf.

  I wait until he’s coming up the stoop behind me to say, “Not tonight. I only kiss on the first date.” I smile and he stops, a look of genuine surprise on his face as I open the door. “If you want to prove yourself, you’re going to have to do better that sweet talk me for a night and kiss me—no matter how good you are.”

  I walk into my building with a huge smile on my face. That took every ounce of strength I had. I wanted to rip his clothes off and tear into him, but I can’t—not yet. I really like this guy, and I believe he may really like me too, which means I can’t make it easy for him. If he really thinks I’m worth it, he’ll prove himself. I press the elevator button and wait for the car, still smiling.