Deadlines & Red Lines: Fast Ice Sports Romance

by Stephanie Julian

  “Your friends. Your teammates. A few of us have talked about it. We just don’t know how to help. Although Lad did suggest we get you laid. Guess the bastard had the right idea.”

  Grinning, Dwayne stood and offered his hand to pull RJ to his feet. RJ took it and let himself be helped.

  “That little punk doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about when it comes to women.”

  “That little punk outweighs you by twenty pounds. You’re just pissed he was right. When’re you gonna see her again?”

  “Thursday. I’m taking her to Shane’s. She works most nights.”

  “You wanna see her before then, take her to lunch.”

  “What are you? A matchmaker?”

  Dwayne got a good laugh at that. “Maybe I should be. Sounds like you need some help in the dating department.”

  “And you’re gonna help me? Dude, you’ve been married for more than a decade. What do you know about dating anymore?”

  “Why do you think my wife still loves me? Let me give you a few pointers.”

  Hope you have a good night at work. Looking forward to seeing you Thursday.

  Sugar stared at the text from RJ on her break Tuesday night, trying not to overheat. Or sigh like a lovesick idiot.

  She was having a sucktastic night, and she didn’t want to be here. She’d picked up an extra shift at Nero’s this week, thinking it couldn’t be as bad as the weekend. But even on a good night, she didn’t want to be here. She’d been overlooking the sleaze factor for so long she’d thought she could handle anything, but tonight…

  “Hey, Shug.” Creeper Chris the manager stuck his head through the break-room door and yelled over the thumping music from the dance floor. “I need you to wait on Suite Two. Dezzy’s running behind and these guys are big tippers. Trust me, you’ll thank me.”

  Before she had a chance to respond, the short, round slug who ran this club disappeared back into the bar, leaving Sugar staring at the door like she could set it on fire with her mind.

  Her feet hurt in the three-inch heels the club required of all their female servers. Her black skirt was wet from where she’d had to blot out a drink some asshole had spilled on her, and she’d already changed her sheer black top for an identical one after a girl had stumbled off the dance floor and knocked Sugar into another waitress whose tray had launched a used appetizer plate directly at her boobs.

  And now…Suite Two.

  She wanted to text RJ: Having a shitty night. My sister’s knocked up. About to be felt up by drunk assholes who think money makes it ok. And I miss you.

  Which was stupid, because she’d seen him last night at the diner. He’d been by for dinner, and they’d talked and flirted, and life had seemed normal for a couple of hours. Then he left, and she closed the diner at midnight and went back to her apartment to sleep on the couch because her pregnant sister was in her bed.

  And there was no way in hell she could text him how much she loathed working here. He already didn’t like that she worked here. Neither did she, but up until a few seconds ago, she’d been ready to suck it up and head back to the floor, thinking of all the money she’d make tonight. Money she was going to need because her sister was about to have a baby and had come to Sugar for help because Cookie knew Sugar wouldn’t let her swing out there on her own.

  Now…

  Shit. Just shit.

  “You could just walk out, you know.”

  Sugar sucked in a deep breath and shook her head at Kyann, who’d been sucking down antacid when Chris had stuck his head in.

  “And forfeit the money I earned this weekend? No way.”

  Kyann shrugged, D-cups jiggling under her top. “I get it but, hon, you look miserable tonight. Something else going on?”

  Since she and Kyann were more coworkers than friends, Sugar shook her head and forced a smile. “Just the general shittiness of this place. Guess I better get out there before Creeper throws a fit.”

  Kyann chuckled at the waitstaff’s nickname for the manager. “I hear you. I swear if one more asshole ‘accidentally’ touches my ass tonight, there will be crushed balls.”

  Tossing a grin of commiseration over her shoulder on the way out the door, Sugar headed for the second floor, trying to breathe through the tightness in her chest and unkink the knot in her stomach.

  It didn’t work. In fact, it only got worse the closer she got to her destination. Fuck it. Anyone touched her, she’d break their nose and worry about the consequences later. Turning the handle, she loosened her jaw and put on what she hoped was a pleasant expression. At least, she hoped it didn’t look like she wanted to strangle someone with her bare hands. Or puke on them.

  The noise hit her first.

  Lots of men shouting and laughing over each other. Not angry, just loud. Everything about it made her cringe. They were celebrating some deal they’d closed. Real estate. Stocks. She didn’t have a clue and didn’t care.

  She started making her way around the room, taking orders from men who either looked right though her or looked down at her tits and not at her face. A few of them actually thanked her before dismissing her. More than a few others looked her up and down like she was a cow they were going to buy. And then there was Tom.

  “Hey there. I’m Tom. You’re a beautiful woman. When you bring my drink back, bring one for you, too. I know the owner. I’ll tell him not to fire you for drinking on the job. Trust me, he’ll want you to make me happy.”

  Tom was fifty-something, bald and paunchy, and thought he had the right to put his arm around her.

  Sugar sidestepped him the first time. “We’re busy.” She didn’t even bother to cover the sneer in her tone. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Ah, babe, you’re breaking my heart. Come on. What’s one drink?”

  Enough to make her want to puke down the front of this guy’s thousand-dollar suit.

  “Sorry.” Not on her life. “What’ll it be.”

  She could see the answer in his eyes. He wanted her to give him what he’d asked for. Out loud, he ordered a bottle of top-shelf bourbon. Sugar escaped before he could say or do anything else and make her haul off and hit him. Then she really wouldn’t be getting paid.

  It didn’t take as long as she’d hoped to get the order filled at the upstairs bar. Apparently, whoever had rented Suite Two for the night had paid a lot of money to keep the liquor flowing. Grabbing the tray, she headed back to the suite. This time, she didn’t bother putting on a smile. She just wanted to get in and get out as fast as possible, without breaking the tray over anyone’s head. She’d distributed the drinks and was about to make a clean getaway when Tom decided he wasn’t finished with her.

  “Hey, why are you running away so fast? Have a drink.” He put his hand on her arm. “You don’t need to be such a bitch.”

  She tugged, trying to get her arm away from the asshole who had dared to grab her, but he held on. She had a brief moment of panic as his hand tightened before she ripped her arm away.

  Tom looked stunned for a second, but she could see what he was planning. Taking a step back, Sugar stared up at the man whose face was getting redder by the second.

  “Touch me again and I will call the police.”

  Then she turned and stalked toward the door, grabbing the tray as she went. She was about to step through it when she heard a commotion behind her. In the hall, she turned back to see a few of the men holding good old Tom by the shoulders and another man with a grim look on his face following her.

  She was about to make a run for the bar at the end of the hall when the guy held up his hands. Probably only a few years older than her, he looked upset and embarrassed.

  “We’re celebrating the close of a big deal and he’s drunk. He won’t be a problem again.” Then he reached into his pocket and handed her a wad of cash. “A little something to say thank you.”

  She wanted to throw that money in his face. She also knew she couldn’t afford to. So she took it.

  Haz
ard pay.

  Then she turned and walked back to the break room. Where she told Chris what had happened. To his credit, he got pissed and sent one of the security guys up to talk with the group. When he turned back to her, he started shaking his head, as if he could clearly read her intention on her face.

  “Sugar, don’t—”

  “That guy could’ve broken my arm before anyone got to him. This job isn’t worth—”

  “Look, I’ve dealt with the guy. He won’t be back. Just…take the rest of the night off. Don’t make a decision you’re going to regret later. Give it a day.”

  He walked away before she could respond. Standing in the center of the now-empty room, she took a couple of deep breaths before she pulled out her phone.

  It was one-fifty-five a.m. RJ had probably been asleep for hours already. He had the kids’ camp starting tomorrow. He’d texted her last around eleven p.m., telling her to have a good night.

  She wanted to talk to him so badly, she could barely breathe.

  Shitty from start to finish. Leaving ea

  “Hey, Sugar,” another of the girls stuck her head in the break room. “I could use some help—what’s wrong?”

  “Shit.”

  Sugar looked down at her phone. She’d accidentally sent her unfinished email to RJ. She wanted to delete it immediately, but her fingers had started to shake, and she just wanted to get the hell out of here now.

  “I’m leaving. Sorry, Dita. I’m out.”

  She put on a fresh shirt, grabbed her sneakers, and changed out her heels.

  “Whoa, Shug. You sure you’re okay? Want me to call you a ride?”

  “No. I should make the next bus. I just…need to get out of here tonight. And if you have to put up with Suite Two, make sure you stay away from the asshole named Tom.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  Sugar bounced back onto her feet, ready to head for the door when her phone vibrated.

  Bad night? You ok?

  RJ was still awake. The need to see him was like a physical ache in her gut. She sucked in a sharp breath and responded before she took a second to think through a response.

  Yes.

  Wanna stop by?

  God, yes. She absolutely wanted to stop by. She could text her sister and tell her she’d see her in the morning. Cookie was probably already asleep, and if she needed Sugar, she could call. It wasn’t like she was going to give birth tonight.

  Don’t you have to be up early tomorrow?

  I can survive on a couple hours sleep. Rather spend the time with you.

  She blinked, stupid tears at the corners of her eyes.

  OK. Will see you in a few.

  Need a lift?

  She didn’t want to drag him out this late at night. But—

  “Sugar.” Chris stuck his head through the door. “I got you a ride. Car’s here.”

  Holy shit. Chris must really feel guilty. More like he didn’t want to lose another waitress during their busiest season or have her bring the cops in.

  “Okay. Be right there.”

  No. Thanx. Be there in a few.

  Look forward to it.

  The driver waiting for her was a woman, which Sugar appreciated more than she could say. She’d had enough of men for the night. Except for one man.

  You know it’s not going to last, right? You’re just a diversion. The rebound.

  She realized she was gritting her teeth and made a conscious effort to loosen her jaw. She hated that voice in her head, but it had been whispering in her ear all night and she hadn’t been able to shut it up.

  “You look exhausted, sweetie. Hope you’re heading home.”

  Sugar smiled at the older woman looking at her in the rearview mirror, shaking her head.

  “Actually, I’m heading to my…um, friend’s house.”

  Friend. Is that what she should call RJ? He wasn’t exactly her boyfriend, but she did consider him a friend. She had for the past several months. And now they were… What?

  The driver grinned at her before pulling the car away from the curb.

  “From the smile on your face, I’m thinking this friend is more than that. Maybe one with benefits.”

  Sugar smiled but honestly didn’t know how to respond. Which just made the little voice in her head louder.

  You’re just a piece on the side, a diversion until he finds another woman who’ll fit into his life. Not some uneducated waitress with a pregnant sister to support.

  After giving the driver the address of RJ’s apartment building, Sugar settled into the backseat, determined to ignore that voice. But the closer she got to his apartment, the more insistent it became.

  Why haven’t you told him about Cookie? Because you think he’ll drop you so fast it’ll make your head spin? Hell, he may feel sorry for you because he’s such a nice guy but you’re just not right for him, are you?

  Jesus, how did she make this stop?

  It didn’t take long to get to RJ’s at this time of night, and by the time she thanked the driver and slid out of the car, she had to take a couple of deep breaths to calm down.

  You’re fine. Everything’s going to be fine. It’s not like you’re in love with the guy. It’s just sex. Right?

  Just thinking that one four-letter word made her brain stutter and pop like a fuse short-circuiting.

  Stop. Just…stop.

  Sucking in a breath, she forced her brain to shut off and headed for the lobby.

  A different security guard, a little older and grayer, stood behind the desk and, once again, she got the up-and-down assessment. Her blood began a slow boil. She was in no mood to deal with another asshole male.

  “I’m here to see RJ Mitchell.”

  “Name?”

  “Sugar Donahue.”

  His brows rose. “Your parents actually named you Sugar?”

  She stopped a sigh in mid-formation. “Yeah, they actually did.”

  “Huh. Thought RJ was yanking my chain. Go on up. Know where you’re going?”

  “I do.”

  “Then have a good night, Miss Donahue.”

  She mustered a smile for the guy who was only doing his job. “You too.”

  Okay, maybe all men weren’t jerks.

  Just most of them

  Ugh. Make it stop! She wanted to throw a full-fledged tantrum, which would only prove she wasn’t mature enough for RJ.

  And that was a load of bullshit, because for as long as she could remember, she’d been the most mature person in her family, and she was including her parents in that count. There was a reason Cookie had come to her instead of to their parents. There was a reason her youngest sister had sobbed like someone had died the day Sugar had left.

  Damn it, when did she get to be the one who needed to be taken care of?

  Now you’re just feeling sorry for yourself. When you should be focusing on the fact that you’re about to see RJ and you don’t want to be a bitch.

  Because, honestly, she wasn’t sure how often she’d get to see him in the future. They’d just found each other and now there were all these roadblock—

  God, just stop.

  The elevator stopped, and she practically ran down the hall to his door. Which opened before she had a chance to knock.

  “Hey—”

  She stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say by sealing her lips over his. She kissed him like she needed him to breathe. And tonight, maybe she did. Maybe she needed him to wipe her brain clean and replace it with memories of him. The way he kissed her. The way he touched her, the way he smelled, and the feel of his hands gripping her hips and pulled her against his hard, ready body.

  If she’d surprised him, he recovered in a split second. He wrapped one arm around her waist and lifted her off the ground while he shut the door behind them. As he started to walk, she lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist. Both hands landed on her ass, holding her in place and petting her, like he co
uldn’t wait to touch her.

  She knew he was moving toward the bedroom, and her already overexcited emotions heightened every sensation. By the time he sat on the bed and lowered them down to the mattress, with her knees on either side of his thighs and her body plastered flat against his, she thought she might crawl out of her skin.

  Only the crush of his mouth against hers and his hands roaming her body shut down all the questions pounding away at her brain.

  They made out like horny teenagers for long minutes, all lips and tongues tangled and hands stroking and petting. But unlike a teenager, RJ knew exactly what to do with his hands. He stroked and kneaded and petted her with the sole purpose of making her crazy for him.

  His fingers knew exactly where to touch her to make her gasp into his mouth as she grinded her hips into his. His erection was a stiff rod beneath his gym shorts and his t-shirt clung to his chest like a lover. For tonight, that chest was hers and she wanted it exposed.

  Sitting up, she looked into his eyes, burning hot with desire for her. Making sure he was watching, she shoved her hands under his shirt, wanting to lick her lips at the heat of his skin against her palms.

  “Take this off. Please.”

  He grinned at her demand, the purely sexual curve of his mouth making hers water. Without a word, he crunched forward, grabbed the back of his shirt with one hand, and pulled it over his head. She swallowed hard at the sight of his abs doing all that work before she put her hands on his shoulders and followed him back down to the mattress.

  Her mouth went to his throat, kissing a trail down to his chest, as his hand tangled in her hair. She’d forgotten she’d pulled it back in a ponytail until he tugged out the band and her hair spilled around her face.

  In the next second, he gathered it in one hand and held it at her nape. The slight tug as she kissed her way down his chest sent tingles through her body, caused her core to clench and ache. She stopped to suck and nip at his nipples before continuing her journey down his body to her destination.

  His stomach contracted under her lips as she stopped just below his belly button. Looking back up at him, she saw he’d lost the grin. This look blistered her with its intensity as she yanked down his shorts and exposed his cock.