“Perhaps you will have more chances now that Holly is having second child.”
“Mmm,” she hums. “I doubt it. Holly is a rock star. She’s not going anywhere.”
Once we return to the cottage, we store our bicycles and head inside. Scarlett disappears to the bathroom while I greet the pizza delivery man, who has brought not just pizza but also a six-pack of beer. When Scarlett returns, she asks if I would like to eat outside on the patio. She has found a red and black picnic blanket in a cupboard and lays it on the table.
As we eat, we talk more about her fiancé and the abuse she incurred at the hands of his bookies. How the fuck had that man been so blind with his addictions that he lost track of the safety of the woman he supposedly loved? I know Galina’s husband, Heinrich, would protect her with his life. Gambling debts must always be paid—with money or blood. I cannot imagine why they stopped contacting her. Why? With her fiancé dead…Scarlett lives in fear that they will come for this money, but they have not after two years. Yet. Something is not right in this scenario.
Makes sense why she has never been outside this city. She is a small-town girl in some ways, exposed to the world through the caricatures she has seen throughout Las Vegas. I suddenly feel strongly to show her the world, to take her far away so that she can breathe fresh air, air that is not tainted by the mistakes of the men in her life.
“Have you ever been in a relationship?” She asks the question casually as we sip our beer, watching the sun set over the lake.
“Once. She was a dancer.”
“Was?”
“Well, likely is still, but I have not considered her for a long time.”
“Why did you end things?” she asks after a moment of silence watching the sunset.
“Is hard to be with someone who is as committed to sport as you are.” I give her a dismissive shrug. “My goal is to play hockey. The relationship created a detour from that goal.”
“That’s sad,” she says, giving me a pitying look. “You’re so married to hockey that you couldn’t figure out how to make a relationship work?”
“But I did not end it.”
“Oh…I’m sorry for assuming otherwise. And?”
“And I decided that the hurt was not worth it. I doubled my focus on hockey. That is all.”
“Nothing since?”
“No,” I answer, taking a long pull from my beer bottle. “Sex and relationships are not priorities for me.”
There is another moment of silence, so I look over at Scarlett, who is staring off in the other direction, her jaw set. I realize my mistake.
“I am sorry. I do not mean to make less of our time together. I mean only that I have not been interested in such things for a long time. Until I saw you. True.”
“That’s just a line of BS you’re feeding me.”
“BS?”
“Bullshit,” she snaps. “That just does not happen, Viktor. Men don’t swear off sex and relationships and then, like, boom, they’re suddenly all up and into someone. I swear I think you live a double life. Or you’re hiding how sexually active you really are. I mean, I’ve been sexually active. I can admit it. People like having sex. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Scarlett…”
“Viktor,” she shoots back.
I sigh. “I liked having sex with you. Very much. I have thought of nothing else since.”
“Really?”
I nod. “Really. And I did feel this…boom…that you speak of. I noticed you, in the locker room. Many other women try to get my attention, but it was you I noticed. Only you.”
“But…why?” Her voice has turned to a whisper.
“Why is anything? At first, purely physical. Your red hair. Your curvy body. The sound of your voice. It was appealing to me.”
“And then?”
“And then,” I say, standing and walking the few steps to position myself in front of where she sits on top of the table. “And then, perhaps, a game? You pushed me away. You told me no, and I was wanting to win you. At least for one night.”
Our eyes meet and I see longing there. Emotional and physical. I am not so adept at reading women—I have little experience, really—but I see what she needs. She needs to hear good things, nice things. She needs to know this has moved past one night.
“Well,” she says, clearing her throat, “that one night was pretty spectacular. At least…it was for me.”
“For me as well. I told you, I have not stopped thinking of you. Of the way our bodies fit. I feel like an animal with this constant wanting. What have you done to me?”
“I feel the same but…is this—” She stops and swallows. Takes a breath. “Is it…just sex?”
“Is it for you?” I stare into her eyes as I ask the question. Maybe I can read her body language for a better understanding of her.
“I don’t know?” Her answer is a question. She frowns slightly. It is very endearing.
“We do not have to figure it out now. Or tomorrow. It can be what it will be. Yes?”
Scarlett bites her lower lip and I lean in, kissing it softly. She releases her lip and opens for me. My tongue explores her mouth, the roof, her teeth, her tongue. Probably without even knowing, she spreads her legs wider. I lean in closer, pushing her back on the soft blanket, pushing the empty pizza box out of the way.
We kiss with her lying on the table, a buffet ready for eating. And I do. I nibble at her ears and neck. I kiss her lips and her clavicle. I pull up her T-shirt and reveal those heavy breasts, contained in a silver lace bra. The color contrasts against her pale skin beautifully, but it is hiding what I need to see and kiss and suck right now. So I pull down on the cups of her bra and force those pretty nipples to pop out over the fabric. I lick and kiss and tease both with my teeth in alternating bites, some gentle and some harder. She arches toward me each time, soft moans escaping her lips.
When I see her shiver, I realize the night has descended, cooling the air outside. I put her lovely tits back into her bra and help her to sit up. After setting her down from the table onto her own two feet, I take her hand in mine to walk back inside the cottage. She leads us straight for the bedroom. Scarlett has a purpose. I am more than happy to watch the show of her stripping out of her clothes. Who am I to stifle her demonstration of getting naked for me? I am not fucking stupid.
Slowly, she lifts her shirt over her head before tossing it away with a sexy smirk. Then she unhooks her pretty silver bra from behind her back. She takes her time sliding the straps down over each shoulder in turn before letting gravity take it to the floor with a rustle.
Standing before me, breasts bared—which are the prettiest pair I have ever known—with her hair like red wine around her shoulders and down her back. She is simply perfect even though she still wears her black jeans and sandals—which need to disappear as quickly as possible. There is something so very innocent about her despite the obvious sensuality she is putting on display for me. I am bewitched by this beguiling woman in so many ways. Her beauty is something she does not even seem to be aware of.
“What?” She blushes shyly.
“You are perfect. A bewitching goddess.”
She pushes her lips together, the flush of pink staining her cheeks.
I pull my shirt over my head as well and toss it away. She admires me as I strip down. I notice how her green eyes darken and her creamy skin flushes in anticipation. My cock is already hard, springing up with a bounce as I get rid of my pants and step forward to help Scarlett out of hers. I jerk the buttons free and push them down over her hips, exposing a tiny strip of matching silver lace to her bra. I can’t help chuckling.
“What’s so funny?”
I fall to my knees, still chuckling. “These can hardly be classified as panties.”
She doesn’t get a moment to respond before I shove my face between her legs, ready to worship her. I lick and suck at her through the thin lace, feeling her wetness, smelling her sweet arousal. Eventually, I push the tiny
piece of fabric aside and shove my tongue into her, my hands grabbing her bare ass cheeks and pulling her forward.
I want her riding my face until she comes. My Red Rocket does not disappoint me either. With a heavy sigh and a deep moan escaping her lips, she buckles beneath my tongue devouring every part of her it can reach.
Her little moans turn me on. “I want you to come. And I want to hear you,” I tell her as I tear away her thong. I need her completely naked so I can enjoy every bare inch of her.
“Give me this,” I say as I pull her back to my mouth. With her cunt attached to my face I work over her clit with my tongue. When I push two of my fingers inside her she curses, dirty words that only serve to fuel my desire for more.
“Yes, yes,” she chants. “Yes. Yes. Fuck. Fuck, that feels so good. God, I’m so close. Fuck.”
Her whole pussy clenches and her body stops moving. The pulsating of her clit is palpable against my tongue. It lasts and lasts, and then she goes nearly boneless, falling back against the bed.
I stand and look at my handiwork. Her swollen pussy lips and clit, the wetness that streaks her inner thighs. Her flushed, rosy cheeks and breasts. And I realize that this will never be enough. I don’t know what it is about her. There are so many things to learn. And she may not like me very much if we continue down this path. But I want to try.
I lean in with care, kissing her gently as she recuperates from her explosive orgasm. She responds, her arms snaking around my back to pull me down onto the bed with her.
“So good,” she says quietly. “This is so good with you.”
I could not agree more with her.
I slip inside her quietly, without preamble, loving the feel of her tight warmth around my aching cock.
“Yesss,” I hiss. “You feel so fucking good.”
I move slowly, at first, savoring each movement, each thrust, each corresponding kiss. But she is having none of it. No, she wants more, and harder, and faster. So, the pace quickens as I plunge in and out of her, our kisses getting rougher, sloppier.
She cries out as she comes again, her body going rigid as she clenches around my shaft. I keep fucking into her, the added friction pushing me to the edge.
“Come on me,” she says breathlessly. “I want to see your cock in your hand coming all over me.”
This is all I need. I pull out of her, stroking myself as she watches with heavy eyelids, her fingers playing at her clit. It is the sexiest thing I have ever seen, made all the sexier as I climax all over her fucking gorgeous tits and throat.
I fall beside her, breathing heavily. She runs a finger through a stream of cum and puts it to her mouth, tasting. I lean in and kiss her, our scents and tastes mingling. This just makes me want her again, and she seems keen, grabbing my cock in her hand and stroking it. My fingers find her soaked cunt again, and we prime each other through more kisses. Kissing…always kissing. I need her kisses. So many kisses…
When I am ready to go again, she pushes me to my back and mounts me, grinding over my cock with her back arched and her hair slapping against my balls and thighs as she moves up and down. I sit up slightly, pulling her closer, sucking her breasts, grazing her nipples with my teeth.
“Mmmm,” she hums. “Yes. Yes. Do that. Yes, Viktor.” I have discovered that Red Rocket likes a little pain along with her pleasure.
Her movements get faster and her eyes close as that now-familiar pulse begins inside of her. It just never stops. Minutes. Hours. I don’t know. It could be days. She rides me, pumping against me, coming all over me. She’s so wet.
When I come, it’s nearly a surprise, a sharp spurt of intense pleasure, before I pick her up and carry her into the bathroom. The shower is small. Too small, really, but I turn on the faucet while still holding her against me, my cock still buried inside of her as I go back to kissing her soft, sweet lips. The water pummels us, hot and steaming, after we step inside, still kissing. Still fucking. I harden again, inside of her, and we just…keep going.
It’s like a haze of drug, fucking Scarlett. I’ve never felt something so good in all my life.
I never want it to end.
Nineteen
Scarlett
STAR CROSSED LOVERS
It’s very early in the morning. Monday, I think? I’m not even sure, to be honest. I need to get back to Vegas though before I lose one or both of my jobs.
Viktor is sleepy but awake, my head on his chest as he strokes my hair idly.
“I feel like we went to another planet last night,” I comment with a yawn.
“It was out of this world, yes.” His beard stubble rasps against my skin as he nuzzles my neck with a kiss. He has a fixation with my neck, I think. Lots and lots of kisses there from him.
I think about what he just said. A pun? From Viktor? I look up and find him smiling.
Like, a real smile, not just a smirk. It’s very attractive. He has really nice teeth, which is a rarity among hockey players. Maybe a few are implants, but I like that he fixed his teeth rather than leave gaps like many guys do—waiting for their retirement from professional play before commencing with the dental repairs.
“You’re smiling.” The words come out sounding kind of dumbfounded and dazzled. Which I am.
“You make me happy, Red Rocket.”
This takes my breath away. But still. “You shouldn’t say things like that,” I say softly, laying my head back on his chest.
“Why? Is true.”
“It’s just the glow of sexual satisfaction. It will wear off.”
“That is true also, but I think there is more. A connection, as you have asked for. Yes?”
“Maybe.” I roll to my back and stretch out like a cat. “But you have to leave for the summer. And staff isn’t supposed to date team. We’re doomed. Star-crossed lovers.”
“Humph.” His beautiful smile disappears as quickly as it appeared.
He stands and stretches, his arms over his head, showing off each glorious muscle in his back. His butt is phenomenal. Like, buns-of-steel good, and his legs are ridiculously defined.
“Do you enjoy this view?” he asks playfully.
“I do, yes. Thank you.”
He turns, giving me the full monty of his front side. “And this?” The smile is back, but this time it’s more of a wicked grin.
“Yep, that view’s good, also. Especially that smile. When did you get so smiley?”
“More smiling only for you, each time we fuck like that.”
Oof. He’s so direct and literal. The things he says to me would be offensive coming from anyone else. But with Viktor? Off-the-freaking-chain hotness when it comes out of his mouth.
“You are kinda dirty, mister. The things you say are uber filthy.”
“The things we do are uber filthy. You like filthy, I think.”
“I might have liked it…” I give him my sexiest wink.
“You liked it four or five times last night.”
“Ahh, it was more times than I could count.”
“There is more we can do. More filthy than that.”
“Oh, I’m sure there is.” I let out a sigh. “But I really should get back to Vegas. I’ve got to work at the arena tomorrow. And I might already be fired from my other job.”
“Okay, but I need to wish you a proper good morning first. I can do that in the shower…if you will join me.” He holds out his hand to help me out of bed and gives me yet another magnificent smile. Viktor has no idea of the power that smile has over me. I fear I’ll be putty in his hands whenever he lays one on me.
* * *
When we finally head out after some spectacular good-morning shower sex, I’m sad we have to leave our secluded little lake cabin behind.
“This was a perfect getaway, Viktor. Thank you for inviting me,” I say as we walk to the car.
“You are most welcome, Red Rocket.” He gives me a sweet kiss after buckling me into my seat first, then going around to get himself in. Always such a gentleman in his manners
and behavior toward me. Viktor Demoskev was brought up to treat women with respect, that much is apparent. His refined manners off the ice are in complete contrast to the Mad Russian enforcer he becomes on the ice. Who would’ve guessed it? Not me. But I’m so glad I got the chance to find out at all.
We drive for a while in comfortable silence, just listening to the radio. A Demi Lovato song comes on. “Confident,” it’s called. I sing along, badly, and Viktor nods his head along. The boy really has zero rhythm.
“We’re going to have to teach you to dance, big man,” I joke.
“What do you mean? I am good dancer already.”
“Slow dancing, yes. But anything with a beat? You are baaaad.” I giggle. “Awful.”
“That is offensive,” he says, mock hurt. “You will have to make it up to me now.”
“How could I possibly make up for the hurt I’ve caused by mocking your bad dancing?” I ask sweetly.
“Well, you can tell me why you say we are doomed. There is no reason to think such things.”
“Oh, not what I thought you would ask for. Umm…I just think it will be hard to make this work. You’re going to be gone. The team doesn’t like fraternization. You know.”
“That is…flimsy logic. You are grasping for reasons to sabotage this.”
“This?” I laugh lightly even though I know what he means.
“This new thing between us. I told you, Scarlett, I have not been with a woman for a while. My focus has not been taken from hockey in a long time. I like you, and I like what we are together. Why should we not try?”
“Good sex notwithstanding, what else is there between us? Hot sexy times does not a long-term relationship make.”
“There is time,” he insists. “We can get to know each other more. We have only just begun. All things have a beginning.”
“And an end,” I argue. “And maybe it’s best if we just enjoy this and let it go, so that we have good memories of it. It will never have a chance to fall apart if we end it now.”
Red Rocket: A Hockey Love Story Page 13
