The Season: Rush (Austin Arrows #1)

by Nicole Edwards

  “I think I’m … just gonna go watch them play,” Noelle offers, winking at me when I peer at her over Ellie’s shoulder.

  “Can I help with anything?” Ellie offers when I pull back and stare down at her.

  “Depends.” Leaning down, I steal one more kiss before lowering my voice. “Does it involve you taking your clothes off and me drizzling chocolate syrup all over you? If so, I can think of a few things you can help with.”

  Ellie smacks my chest, but I see the color infuse her cheeks. “Speaking of chocolate syrup, did you make me dessert?”

  My dick twitches. “I’ll be glad to have you for dessert, but we’ll probably need a little privacy for that.”

  She stares up at me for a second before recognition dawns. When her mouth falls open, I lean in and steal another kiss, this time deepening it by sliding my tongue against hers. Damn, she feels so good. She smells like strawberries, which must be her shampoo, and she tastes like cinnamon.

  I’ve missed her and I just saw her last night. For some absurd reason, every minute I’m away from her feels incredibly long. Unfortunately, I’ve got to cherish the minutes I do have with her today because the team’ll be on the road again tomorrow for Saturday’s away game. I’m already dreading not being able to see her.

  But she’s here now and that’s all that matters.

  Another throat clears and I slowly pull back, looking up to see Spencer standing in the doorway. He’s watching the two of us closely, but I can’t tell what he’s thinking. He doesn’t look angry, maybe a little confused. I don’t know.

  “Hey,” Ellie greets her brother, leaving me so that she can give him a hug. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

  Spencer hugs her back, his eyes locked on my face. I won’t apologize for what he walked in on. Not even if he doesn’t particularly care for the fact that I’m with his sister. This might’ve started off as a favor, but it has since morphed into something else entirely.

  Something that I’m just now getting used to.

  Something that I refuse to give up.

  Not yet, anyway.

  Ellie

  I’ve spent Thanksgiving with Kingston and his brothers more than once in all the years I’ve known him. Before my parents died, he was always invited to their house, where we had big Thanksgiving feasts. I remember one year, we even had Kingston’s brothers and his dad over there, too. However, since my parents died, Spencer and I haven’t had any sort of holiday traditions. I think we purposely steer clear of the ones that we remember the most because it’s so hard, even now, not having them here.

  So, Thanksgiving and Christmas are usually a gamble. Bianca and I even had dinner at Luby’s one year, then we went to see a movie together. That was actually fun. The only rule I have for the holiday is that we spend it with people we care about. That’s the most important.

  The one noticeable difference between this Thanksgiving and all the others… Well, it’s clear that Kingston and I aren’t simply friends anymore. Or it doesn’t feel like we are to me. Maybe because he seems to want to kiss me any time we pass by one another, or because he sat beside me through dinner and even put his hand on my leg under the table while he talked to his father about who’s looking good for the Super Bowl this year. Apparently his father is as much a football fan as he is a hockey fan. Who knew?

  And now, as Noelle and I work to carry all the dishes to the kitchen while Heath and Scott dutifully rinse them and put them in the dishwasher, I’m wishing I could steal a little of Kingston’s time for myself.

  “You do know you look like you’re in love, right?” Noelle asks, nudging me when I pass by her on another trip to the dining room.

  “I do not.” I’m pretty sure I do. But whatever.

  As I step into the kitchen with another load of dirty dishes, I find Noelle standing at the bar, clearing her throat to get everyone’s attention. “I’m thinking we should go for a walk since it’s so nice out.”

  “I wanna go!” Bianca announces, putting some of the condiments in the refrigerator.

  “I’m down for a walk,” Scott says. “Sound good to you, Dad?”

  Kingston’s father nods his head. He’s been surprisingly lucid throughout dinner, but I know from experience that could change at any second.

  “You wanna come, Uncle Optimus?”

  “Sure.” My brother glances over at me, then to Kingston.

  “I think I’ll stay and finish cleaning up,” I announce, doing my best not to look at Kingston.

  “I’m with Ellie,” Heath calls out.

  “Oh, no, you’re not,” Noelle says, grabbing Kingston’s brother’s arm. “You’re with us. Kingston can stay and help her finish up. It’s his house, after all.”

  Heath blushes because I think he finally realizes what Noelle is up to. “Now that you mention it, I think a walk is a great idea.”

  Before I can tell them they don’t have to go, Noelle ushers everyone out of the kitchen and then out the door. It’s still light out, and the walk down to the lake doesn’t take long, so I know they’ll be fine.

  Setting one of the plates in the sink, I reach to turn on the water to rinse it, but before I can, two strong hands land on my shoulders, gently urging me to turn around.

  “Have I mentioned your best friend is a life saver?” Kingston’s deep voice rumbles in my ear as he leans in and pulls me toward him.

  “She’s pretty good,” I acknowledge, but I’m more focused on his mouth.

  Reaching up, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him to me, too eager to wait for him to kiss me. The second his lips are on mine, I’m practically climbing his body. Although the man supplied me with one of the most incredible orgasms of all time last night, I desperately want more.

  Kingston’s hands slide down to my ass, squeezing as he pulls my hips forward. I feel the hard ridge of his erection against my stomach. Oh, yes. This is the type of more that I want.

  “How long do you think we have?” he asks.

  “If Noelle’s in charge, I’d say twenty minutes. A half hour tops.” I kiss him again.

  “And if Spencer’s in charge?” Kingston chuckles.

  “Ten minutes,” I whisper. “So we better not waste a second.”

  The next thing I know, Kingston has lifted me off the ground, my legs are wrapped tightly around his hips, and he’s carrying me out of the kitchen. He doesn’t go to the stairs, so I know we’re not going to his room. Probably not wanting to waste too much time, he carries me into his darkened office, then closes and locks the door behind him as I lower myself to the ground. Without releasing my grip on his neck, I lead him over to the leather sofa.

  “I need to be inside you,” he mutters as he fumbles with the button on my jeans.

  Good. At least we’re on the same page.

  While he works to free me from my jeans, I do the same with his. Another growl escapes him as he spins me around to face the desk.

  This looks interesting.

  Planting my hands on the mahogany top, I lean over while he shoves my jeans and panties down. Thankfully, I had thought to take my boots off earlier in an attempt to get comfortable. It allows me to free one foot from the denim and silk so I can widen my stance while he rolls a condom on.

  “Ellie…” The word is a gravel-laced whisper against my ear. His warm, rough hands grip my hips, and I’m pulled back toward him. “I promise next time’ll be better.”

  “I think this time’ll be pretty damn good,” I assure him. If he thinks I’m bothered by the fact that we’re having a quickie in his office, then he’s wrong. So wrong.

  A moan escapes when he fills me from behind.

  “Feel so good,” he rumbles against my ear. “So fucking good, Ellie.”

  That’s an understatement. This feels … incredible.

  Once he’s fully seated inside me, Kingston wraps one thick arm around my waist and begins pumping his hips. There’s nothing slow or sweet about this joining, and I’m completely good with that. This is frea
king hot. I’m not sure I’ve ever known a man who has acted as though he literally can’t keep his hands off me. That’s the way I feel when I’m with Kingston.

  His beard brushes my cheek as he fucks me harder. He’s holding me with one arm, and I’m keeping my hands planted on the desk so that I don’t tumble forward.

  “Ellie … I’m not sure I can hold off, baby.”

  I don’t want him to. I want him to fuck me like he wants to. Like he can’t get enough. I rock my hips back when he thrusts forward. A rough growl echoes in the room.

  “God, yes…” He slams into me again at the precise moment I push back.

  We keep moving just like that for… God, I have no idea how long we go at it, but the feeling is spectacular. The way he stretches me, filling me, claiming me.

  Kingston’s mouth moves to my neck and he nips me with his teeth. It’s a predatory move that sends my climax barreling through me. I bite my tongue to keep from crying out just in case they came back from the walk early.

  “That’s it, Ellie. Fucking come for me, baby.”

  I’m trying to catch my breath as lights dance behind my closed eyelids.

  “Did you come?” he asks, but I suspect he already knows the answer.

  “Oh, yeah.” I slam back against him. “It’s your turn.”

  Kingston stands up, his fingers digging into the flesh on my hips, and he begins fucking me harder, deeper, driving me right over the edge one more time. This time I can’t keep from moaning as I’m overwhelmed with sensation.

  “I’m coming, Ell. Coming so fucking hard.”

  Yeah, well, that makes two of us.

  38

  Kingston

  Friday, December 2nd

  Standing in front of the net, I dig my skates into the thin ice beneath my feet. I lock my knees and try to fill as much of the empty space behind me as possible. My gaze flicks up to the time that’s slowly ticking down. One minute, thirty-seven seconds. That feels like an eternity when I’m holding on to a shutout. No way will I let these guys take it from me. Not tonight.

  Tampa Bay’s right wing barrels toward me, bypassing our defenseman waiting in the wings. With some fancy puck handling, he taps the puck between Seg’s legs, then taps it again on the other side. I shift to my left and move farther out of the goal, making a larger target as he continues toward me.

  “No way, man,” I mutter to myself. “Not tonight.”

  In my peripheral vision, I see their center race forward, getting into position for a rebound. I’ve seen this move before, and if they’ve perfected their timing, I’m screwed.

  Their right winger rears back, slaps the puck my way, but it gets no air, and I see a body slide across the ice in front of me. It’s Patrick Benne and he’s laid out like Superman, his body deflecting the puck, sending it right over to Spencer.

  I watch, my eyes never leaving the puck as Spencer rears back and smacks the shit out of it, sending it flying down the rink and right into … the empty net!

  Goal!

  The roar of the buzzer drowns out the screams from the fans.

  Fuck yes!

  We’re up by one and a quick look at the clock says we’ve only got twenty-eight seconds before this shit is over. I’m feeling good. My heart is pounding due to the adrenaline slamming through me. It’s the greatest feeling in the world. Although in regular time, twenty-eight seconds is gravy, in hockey time, it’s a hell of a lot more. Anything can happen. Hell, if they were desperate enough—and with a little luck—they could possibly get two goals on me and win this one.

  Not tonight, I repeat in my head.

  I’m not letting this one go. No fucking way.

  They face off again and I’m poised and ready.

  Just as I suspect, they’re not willing to give up yet. Even if it means they lose the game, they’re still going all out. The puck gets passed back and forth, back and forth until their center gets a clear shot. I peek around a body, not even noticing which jersey they’re wearing. It doesn’t matter to me. I’ve simply got to stop that puck.

  Shift.

  Shift.

  Crouch.

  I drop to my knees as the puck flies toward me. It catches my right pad, bounces off. I lean over, then I’m back on my feet. I drop again, getting ready to grab the puck…

  Buzzzzzzz!

  The game’s over. We won!

  And it’s only then that I take a deep breath.

  And wish like hell this was a home game because the only thing better than ending this night with a shutout is the idea of spending it with Ellie.

  Tomorrow night … that’s right where I’ll be, and now it’s the only thing I can think about.

  Ellie: You looked amazing out there! Congrats on the shutout.

  Kingston: I wish like hell you were here so we could celebrate appropriately.

  Ellie: And what way would that be?

  Kingston: Naked, of course.

  Ellie: I like you naked.

  Kingston: Do you?

  Ellie: Definitely.

  Kingston: What do you like to do to me when I’m naked?

  Ellie: Well, one of these days…

  Kingston: Ellie. Don’t leave me hanging.

  Ellie: …I’m going to use my mouth and not stop until…

  Kingston: Fuck. Until what?

  Ellie: …Until you come down my throat.

  Kingston: Holy. Fuck.

  Ellie: You like that idea?

  Kingston: More than you know.

  Ellie: Well, I like imagining it.

  Kingston: Tomorrow night, it’s going to go from fantasy to reality. Be ready.

  39

  Ellie

  Saturday, December 3rd

  I’m losing my mind.

  That’s all there is to it.

  Kingston has turned me from a relatively good girl to a hormonal hussy. After our text conversation last night, I have thought about only one thing. Only one.

  So, when I see his truck pull into the lot, I decide to put my plan in motion.

  “Hey, Julie. When Kingston gets here, send him to my office, please.”

  “Sure thing,” Julie replies in her chipper voice.

  Without wasting another second, I slip down the hall and into my office. Five minutes later, there’s a knock on my door.

  “Come in.” I put my pen down, acting as though I were really doing something.

  “Hey.” His eyes light up when he steps into the room.

  “Lock the door,” I instruct, fighting my nerves. I told myself I would take control.

  His dark brows lift and a sexy smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. He does lock the door, though, so clearly he’s down for my plan.

  I get to my feet, then motion to my chair. “Have a seat.”

  Kingston’s forehead creases. I can tell he’s trying to figure out what I’m doing.

  “Well, hello to you, too,” he says, grinning. As he passes by, he leans down and brushes his lips to mine. He smells so freaking good. I mean so good. I want to eat him alive.

  “Hi.” Perhaps I didn’t think this all the way through. I skipped right over the pleasantries in my mental version of this seduction. Hopefully Kingston will forgive me.

  He lowers himself into the chair, hands on the arms as he stares up at me. “Now what?”

  I perch on the side of my desk. “Take your shirt off.”

  If the man is surprised by my insistence, he doesn’t show it. The T-shirt quickly comes off, landing on the papers overflowing my desk. Mesmerized by the phenomenal sight, I drink in the planes and valleys of his chest and abs. I follow the corded muscles up to his neck, down his arms, back up again. The tattoos add to his bad-boy image and I feel my body heating.

  “So, I take it we’re not going to talk about the weather,” he muses.

  “Not unless you want to.”

  Kingston’s eyes drop to my mouth and I know he’s thinking about that text message. “No, I’m good.”

  “I thought so. Yo
u said we could turn fantasy into reality, and I figured there was no better time than now.”

  “Is that what we’re doing?” His eyebrows lift, and his eyes darken with what is clearly anticipation.

  “That’s what we’re doin’,” I confirm. “Now unbutton your pants.” My voice is scratchy and rough, my arousal making me weak.

  Kingston smirks but unbuttons his pants.

  “Unzip.”

  He does.

  “Now push them down to your knees. Underwear, too.”

  I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. It feels like someone else is speaking through my mouth while I get the pleasure of seeing it all with my eyes. I have never seen so much masculine beauty in my life, much less had any power over it. This is surreal.

  Kingston’s jeans go to his knees and my gaze travels between his legs. His cock is rock hard, standing up straight, resting against his stomach.

  “Now what, Ellie?”

  Well, I guess now it’s my turn.

  I move over and kneel on the floor at his feet. This didn’t work out quite the way that I planned. His jeans are in my way, which means he’s going to have to lose them. I help remove his boots, then shove his jeans and boxers to the floor. Once he’s naked—holy smokes the man is so fucking hot when he’s naked—I kneel between his legs, keeping my eyes locked with his. He’s watching me carefully, as though he’s attempting to memorize my every move. Without asking permission, I lean forward and press a gentle kiss to the head of his cock. His eyes flare, but he doesn’t move.

  I give him a little lick, then smile. “Remember, there are customers and employees on the other side of the door. I don’t want them to know the naughty things I’m doing to you, which means you have to be quiet.” I knew Kingston would say he didn’t care, so I had to make it about me.

  Kingston nods. “I can do that.”

  “And this time, you can’t stop me.” He has stopped me every other time, focusing more on my pleasure. It’s my turn. I want to make him wild, watch him come undone.

  “Okay.”

  Sliding my tongue along the smooth, soft flesh, I set out to make this man lose his mind the same way he’s done to me time and time again.