Rebound

by Cher Carson

  Rebound

  Book Two in the Hot Shots Trilogy

  By Cher Carson

  Copyright © by Cher Carson

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, including photocopying, graphic, electronic, mechanical, taping, recording, sharing, or by any information retrieval system without the express written permission of the author and / or publisher. Exceptions include brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Persons, places and other entities represented in this book are deemed to be fictitious. They are not intended to represent actual places or entities currently or previously in existence or any person living or dead. This work is the product of the author’s imagination.

  Any and all inquiries to the author of this book should be directed to info@chercarsonbooks.com.

  Rebound © 2011 Cher Carson

  Dedication

  To my amazing team of editors, cover designers,

  Beta readers, web designers, tour hosts, and publicist.

  Thank you.

  I could not do this without your help.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  About the Author

  Coming Soon

  Chapter One

  Brooklyn Sykes rolled her eyes, wondering what had possessed her to accept a date with Nick Morris. It must have been the three tequila shots she had guzzled with her girlfriends before he and his friends approached them. Sure, he was a professional hockey player, but that appeared to be his only redeeming attribute.

  The two-hour drive to the cottage where his team captain was hosting a weekend bash seemed never-ending. She even tried closing her eyes, hoping sleep would save her from having to listen to him drone on and on about his life as a high-roller. No such luck.

  “We’re here,” he said, pulling into the long gravel drive.

  The huge stone and cedar structure overlooked a clear lake with several hundred feet of private shoreline.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said. She was no stranger to the finer things in life. Her father owned one of the most successful law firms in the city. She just made partner last year, and the promotion had afforded her the luxury of buying a home most would envy. But she worked hard, often seventy hours a week, to earn the position. Her father was a self-made man who believed his daughter should have to work twice as hard as any of his other employees to earn the same accolades. That was just one of the many reasons she was ready to explore other opportunities.

  “I know, right?” He chuckled. “There’s not much a fifty million dollar contract won’t buy.”

  She’d read about Steve Davis’s contract in the newspaper, fifty million over five years. The general consensus among hockey fans, herself included, was that Davis was worth every penny. He was a strong leader who led the team to the play-offs year after year. In a city where hockey dominated all other spectator sports, that made him a living legend.

  Brooklyn secured her handbag on her shoulder and reached into the backseat for the bottle of wine she’d brought for the host. Making the selection had been difficult. She appreciated a nice bottle of wine and was adept at selecting a good vintage, but her perception of Davis, from the TV interviews she’d seen, led her to believe he was a little too rough around the edges to appreciate a hundred dollar bottle of vino. Of course, judging by his exquisite vacation home, she may have underestimated the man.

  “This is gonna be a blast,” Nick said, jumping out of the car. “Davis is famous for his parties.”

  She felt like she’d stepped back in time to her law school days, when she and her friends would devote their weekends to blowing off a little steam. Trying to make partner had left little time for a social life, and aside from her friends dragging her out for drinks last night, she hadn’t cut loose in a long time. She was more than ready to have a little fun. She wasn’t surprised when Nick dashed up the stairs ahead of her. A gentleman he was not.

  Nick poked his head in the door and shouted, “Let the games begin.”

  She was embarrassed to even associate herself with him, but she was here, so she might as well make the best of it. Maybe the rest of the guests wouldn’t judge her too harshly for the company she kept.

  Steve Davis made his way to the front door to greet them. He shook hands with Nick. “Glad you could make it, man.”

  “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t have missed this for anything.” He laughed, slapping Steve on the back. “Where’s the keg?”

  Steve chuckled. “Try the back deck.”

  Brooklyn stood just inside the door, admiring their host from afar. The pictures she’d seen of the man didn’t do him justice. He was bigger and broader than she expected, and the contrast between his black hair, dark tan, and light blue eyes was startling.

  He looked past Nick, his eyes settling on her. His chiselled face split into a grin, revealing a flash of white teeth and shallow dimples.

  She swallowed, trying to find her voice. She had never been speechless, not in front of a judge, jury, or roomful of her esteemed peers, yet one look at this gorgeous man and she could barely remember her own name.

  She waved her hand in greeting. “Uh, hi.” She cursed herself for giving him the impression she was a star-struck fan. Clearing her throat, she extended her hand, forcing a smile as she looked him directly in the eye. “Brooklyn Sykes, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  He took her hand, smiling. “I can assure you, the pleasure is all mine.” He released her hand and crooked a thumb over his shoulder. “You’re here with Morris?”

  She winced. “I guess you could say that.”

  He laughed. “I won’t hold it against you.”

  She smiled, rolling her eyes. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

  “Come on in; I’ll introduce you to everybody.”

  She held out the bottle of wine. “I brought this for you. I hope you like red wine.”

  He smiled, accepting the bottle. “Absolutely. In fact, a wine room was requisite when I built this place.”

  She was impressed. He appreciated a good bottle of wine, and he could turn her inside out with one innocent touch. It had been too long since a man made her feel that way.

  “I’ll have to show it to you later.” He took her hand in his, linking their fingers as he led her into the great room.

  “I’d like that.” She loved the way her soft, manicured hand felt inside of his rough, callused palm. He was rubbing circles on her wrist with the pad of his thumb and it was making her think all kinds of naughty thoughts. She could imagine him mimicking the action on her clit as he made her come apart in his arms.

  He introduced her to the group. She recognized many of the players. They were all open and friendly. The single ones were a little too friendly. The wives and girlfriends eyed her with open interest, but she expected that reaction. Women were always a little cautious the first time they met her, until they realized she wasn’t set on seducing their man.

  She watched Nick make the rounds, talking up the ladies and making a fool of himself, if the women’s reactions were any indication.

  Steve squeezed her hand. “Why don’t we take this bottle of wine downstairs?”

  “Sure.”

  He led her down a narrow staircase to the lower level of the house. It had a full walk-out basement with several patios bordering his private beach. The main room housed a big-screen TV and leather furniture, an ornate wood bar, pool table, card table, and, off to the side,
an exercise room.

  He ushered her toward a spacious room tucked into a back corner. It had an etched glass door with wraparound shelving that contained hundreds of bottles of wine.

  “Wow, I’m impressed,” she said, whistling under her breath. “And I was worried you wouldn’t appreciate a good bottle of wine.” She blushed when she realized he might take that as an insult. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply…”

  He laughed, setting her bottle in an empty compartment. “It’s okay. I know what you meant. People have a certain perception of hockey players, right? We’re beer drinking, skirt chasing jocks with rocks in our head.”

  She grimaced at his characterization. She was ashamed to admit she had jumped to unfair conclusions about him and his friends based on that stereotype.

  He closed the door behind them.

  There were two leather club chairs in the center of room, but it didn’t seem like a room built for entertaining guests. It seemed more like a place to get away when you wanted privacy. She glanced at the closed door, then back at him.

  “Do I make you nervous?” he asked, taking a step closer.

  She shook her head and swallowed. She didn’t get nervous. She was always calm and collected, in and out of the courtroom. “Of course not. Why would I be nervous?”

  “I have a feeling you’re a little out of your comfort zone.” He took another step toward her.

  She was standing in front of the club chair. One more step and they would be standing toe-to-toe or she would be forced to sit down. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “What do you do, Brook?”

  She frowned at his abbreviated form of her name. No one called her Brook. It seemed too familiar, too intimate, especially given the fact they just met. But she had a feeling he was a man who didn’t stand on ceremony. “I’m a criminal defense attorney.”

  He grinned, dropping his head to hide his smile. “Okay, I wasn’t expecting that.”

  Comments like that always pissed her off. Just because she looked a certain way, men assumed she didn’t have a brain in her head. They stereotyped her… just like she’d stereotyped him. “What did you expect?” She pressed her finger to her full lips. “Let me guess. Model? Actress? Oh, I know, waitress?”

  He laughed, raising his hands in surrender. “Okay, I get it. Now, it’s my turn to apologize.” He looked her up and down, stripping her with the heat of his gaze. “I’ve got to admit, I thought I was attracted to you before; now I’m…”

  She licked her lips, waiting for him to define this crazy thing that was happening between them. Attraction didn’t begin to describe it. That was too tame a word to describe something so all-consuming.

  “Intrigued.” He took another step toward her. “This thing with you and Morris…”

  Her breath hitched as she watched his eyes travel over her breasts. “There is no thing with Morris. I just met him last night.”

  “Nothing happened between you two last night?” he asked, his lips mere inches from hers.

  She fought to keep her eyes open when they wanted to drift closed to invite his kiss. “No, of course not.”

  He cupped her face in his hands, brushing the pad of his thumb over her full lower lip. “Not even a little kiss?”

  She shook her head, unable to speak.

  “He didn’t even hold your hand or caress your thigh or…”

  “No, he never touched me,” she whispered. “Why?”

  He smiled. “Good, not that it would’ve stopped me from doing this.” He dipped his head, brushing his lips against hers.

  She whimpered, wrapping her arms around his waist as she tipped her head back. She was wearing flat sandals and he towered over her, but she wasn’t going to let a kink in her neck stop her from taking what she wanted.

  “You realize once I’ve tasted you, there’s no going back, don’t you?” The words sounded like a veiled threat, but she was past the point of using good judgement. “Last chance to back out,” he whispered.

  She flattened her palms against his chest as a mite of common sense permeated her sensual haze. “This is crazy,” she whispered. “I don’t do things like this with guys I just met.”

  He chuckled, a low rumble deep in his chest that vibrated her sensitive nipples through the thin barrier of cotton between them. “I’m glad to hear that.”

  “No, I mean it. I’ve never had a one-night stand.”

  He stroked her lip with his thumb, his eyes fixed on the action. “That’s good, ‘cause I promise you that’s not what this is gonna be. I’ll never get my fill of you in just one night.”

  His words sent a current of excitement through her. She couldn’t wait to find out what he had planned. “You don’t understand. I have a ten-date rule.” She laughed, a little embarrassed to be confiding in him. “Most girls have a three-date rule; mine is ten, ‘cause I know if I like a guy enough to spend that much time with him, he’s worthy of…”

  He grinned. “Rules were made to be broken, sweetheart.”

  She had never been so tempted to strip naked and let a man have his way with her, but her inner angel always outmuscled her inner devil. “I can’t, Steve. It’s not that I don’t want to, I do, but…”

  He took a step back, dropping his hands to his sides. “Okay, I get it. Say no more.”

  “Do you always give up so easily?” she asked, slightly affronted.

  He laughed. “Honey, when a woman says no, she means no, even when her eyes are telling me a different story.” He winked. “Will you come find me later?”

  She reached out to grab his hand. “Wait.” She refused to leave this room until she got the kiss her lips were craving. She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck, drawing his head down. She dipped her tongue into his mouth, tentatively at first, until he opened up to her.

  He groaned, grabbing her by the waist and crushing her tits to his chest. He didn’t just kiss her, he devoured her, his tongue sparring with hers until she was shamelessly grinding her hips into him and moaning deep in her throat.

  He boosted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he caressed her ass, sliding his hands under her thin tank top to stroke her bare back.

  “Oh God,” she whispered, trying to catch her breath. “Steve, I…” She didn’t know what overcame her, but she didn’t care about rules or consequences. She needed him, now.

  He peeled her legs off of him, setting her down on her feet as he struggled to re-gain his composure. “I was afraid that might happen,” he muttered.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  “If I start, I’m not gonna be able to stop.”

  She reached for the hem of his t-shirt, trying to pull it up and over his head. “I don’t want you to stop.”

  He grabbed her wrists. “Brook, listen to me.” His hands moved to her face. “I meet a lot of women, hell, let’s be honest. I sleep with a lot of women, but it’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this, if ever. I don’t want to rush it. I don’t want you to regret it, okay?”

  He doused her flame when he admitted he was a player, though she didn’t know why she should be surprised. He was rich, gorgeous, and a professional athlete at the top of his game. Of course women would be chasing after him, and she had no doubt he made it easy for them to catch him.

  She pushed past him. “You’re right; this was a bad idea.”

  He thrust his hands into his hair. “Brook, dammit, that’s not what I said.”

  She walked out of the room to the sound of his muttered curses.

  Chapter Two

  Mark Atwell, Steve’s friend and teammate, elbowed him in the ribs. “So, get this, that smokin’ hot chick Morris brought to the party is a partner in some big law firm downtown. Can you believe that? I would’ve bet a million bucks she was a centrefold in some porn rag. I mean, seriously, did you see you her in that bikini? That rack…”

  “Take this, Atwell,” Steve said, thrusting a tray of food at him.

  He didn’t ne
ed anyone to draw his attention to Brooklyn. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of her all day. The sight of her prancing around in that bikini was driving him crazy.

  “Every single guy here has struck out with her today,” Mark said, popping a cracker into his mouth. “How ‘bout you? Have you taken your turn at bat?”

  “None of your goddamn business,” he said, taking a long pull from his bottle of beer.

  He was not going to tell anyone what had happened between him and Brooklyn in his wine room. He couldn’t even make sense of it himself. One look at her and he was hooked. She touched him, kissed him, and he couldn’t stop thinking about getting her into his bed. But if her attitude since that kiss was any indication, that fantasy wouldn’t be fulfilled anytime soon.

  “So, what do ya say, can I borrow your boat for a couple of hours?” Mark asked, setting the food tray down on a nearby table.

  Steve hadn’t heard a word Mark said. He was too busy watching Brooklyn cozy up to his buddy, Lee. He was a cop and Steve’s lifelong friend, but if Lee didn’t put some distance between himself and Brook, Steve was going to kick him out on his ass. “Yeah sure, have fun.” Steve reached into his pocket and handed Mark the keys to his new twenty-two foot fishing boat.

  “Awesome, I told her I’d take her out to that little island. I thought we could drop anchor and go for a dip.” He laughed, lifting his eyebrows. “With any luck, it’ll be a skinny dip.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Brooklyn, that hot little lawyer. I told her I’d take her out on your boat for…”

  Steve snatched the keys back and scowled. “Fuck that.”

  He crossed the room, edging his way between Lee and Brooklyn. “Hey, buddy,” he said to Lee. “Mind if I steal her for a minute?”

  Lee frowned, obviously not happy about the prospect of giving up center stage. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

  He smiled at Brooklyn. “I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”