Intimate Strangers (The Lisa Millar Series Book 1)

by Lasairiona McMaster

  He hesitated for a second or two, weighing up the pros and cons.

  “Good point!” He realized she was right and backed off. “I think I’d better go,” he laughed and turned to leave. “I’ll let myself out,” he called as AJ lay back in bed.

  “Oh, Jeremy?” Lisa called. He paused and glanced back. “Next time, please don’t just barge in unannounced. I realize that’s how it’s always been with you guys and I don’t want to come between you both, but things are changing for all of us. Can we please maybe work on some ‘AJ has a girlfriend now, to go with his wife on the side and she may be naked in his house’ boundaries?”

  “Yes ma’am,” he replied with a military salute. “Age, your new girlfriend is a real ball-buster! Later, gators!”

  With that, he was gone. She pulled a shirt and some shorts from his closet and headed back to the bathroom. When she emerged, she had the sheet neatly folded and placed it at the edge of his bed. Throwing him a quick smile, she headed for the kitchen.

  “What do you want for breakfast?” she called to him as she took two glasses out of the cupboard and sat them on the counter.

  “You.” He answered as he slipped his arms around her waist from behind.

  She hadn’t heard him get up and follow her to the kitchen, but his touch made her tingle. Turning to face him, she kissed him deeply as he lifted her up to sit on the counter, carefully sliding the glasses out of the way. Just how much does he bench-press, she wondered. He picked me up like I was as light as a feather.

  His hands slid up the back of her shirt as she wrapped her arms around his neck and linked her ankles behind his waist – pulling him closer to her. She loved being impulsive, especially this kind of impulsive.

  ***

  “How about that orange juice?” she asked him with a grin once they’d recovered from round two on the floor. Getting to his feet, he offered her a hand-up.

  “Sure,” he replied, matching her grin, “and how about we make pancakes?” he added hopefully.

  Laughing, she nodded, and before long the pan was heating up and a big bowl of thick pancake batter was sitting ready next to the stove. As she started to lay the table, he came up behind her, reached around and wiped a dollop on the tip of her nose.

  “Oh, no. You did not just do that!” she exclaimed, removing the gloopy mixture from her face.

  “Well, I clearly did,” he matched her incredulous tone, “I owed you.”

  “You’re going to pay for that!” she warned, playfully.

  “Oh yeah? What ya gonna do, babe?”

  She walked, slowly towards him, slipped her arms around his waist and kissed him passionately. He didn’t notice that she was dipping her hand in the bowl behind his back.

  “This!” she exclaimed as she drew a line of batter along his forehead.

  He laughed as she ran to use the sofa as a shield.

  “Brave move!” he challenged, as they circled the furniture in the living room. Her toes caught on the rug and she fell, landing with a thud on her side. Seizing the opportunity, he pounced. Pinning her hands above her head with one of his hands, he tickled her with the other, until she yelped and squealed so hard, she could barely breathe. Stopping for a second, she struggled to get free.

  “Surrender?” he goaded her.

  “Never!” she retorted hotly, he continued to tickle her. She put up quite a fight, but, once again, she was no match for his strength.

  “Ok, ok!” she cried, eventually.

  “Say you surrender!” he commanded.

  “I surrender,” she mumbled grumpily as he let go of her hands. Not getting up from on top of her, he continued,

  “Say, ‘AJ you are the champion’,”

  Cutting him off with a shove, she pouted.

  “So cute when you’re all sulky,” he jested and kissed her pout. Sliding her hands down, she gave his bum a suggestive squeeze.

  “Again?” he asked, his voice laced with both surprise, and excitement.

  “Hey now!” she said, defensively, “you’re the hockey player. Aren’t you people supposed to have lots of stamina?”

  “I have plenty of stamina,” he grinned wickedly.

  He kissed her again, and, as his hand travelled up her thigh, they heard a throat clearing behind them.

  “Ahem,” she said loudly. You could tell she was smiling.

  Britt.

  “Would you guys like to be alone?”

  Roberto.

  “You guys should really try locking the door!”

  Jeremy.

  “Not you, again!” Lisa groaned. “We talked about this, Jeremy!”

  There were more noises than people she’d heard so far. She turned to see who else was there and groaned again. Roberto, Jeremy, Britt and Chelsea.

  Perfect, she thought as color rose quickly to her cheeks.

  “We came by to ask you guys to join us for lunch before you need to head to the rink, but,” Chelsea paused and glanced over to the untouched bowl of pancake mix on the counter, “I see that you’ve not even made it to breakfast yet!”

  They all exploded into giggles.

  “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up!” she told them, her face hot. “What happened to pre-game? Did it go wholly out the window? Has coach gone soft in his old age?” She was clearly trying to re-direct attention from the embarrassing situation they’d just been busted in, but realizing it wouldn’t work, she added, “We’ll meet you guys there in ten.”

  No one moved, they all stood with amused looks on their faces.

  “Leave!” she ordered, exasperated, rolling her eyes.

  More laughing, but at least this time they moved.

  “You’re all just jealous that you’re not getting any!” AJ hollered as the door slammed shut.

  “Man, we gotta start locking that door!” she announced as they burst out laughing at their bad luck just as the pan they left heating on the stove spontaneously combusted and set off the fire alarm.

  Chapter 20

  Lunch was fun, and Lisa was convinced she’d pulled a muscle or two from all the giggling they’d done.

  That’ll go well with the bruises from my fall this morning.

  When it was time for the boys to leave for pre-game stuff, she kissed AJ goodbye.

  “Go gettum champ!” she said with a wink. “Good luck, and I’ll see you after the game. I told the guys we’d go with them for a drink after if that’s ok?”

  He nodded.

  “Stay safe?”

  He nodded again.

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  He kissed her lightly and headed off to the rink.

  ***

  The game was more physical than usual. There was a lot of on-ice tension. It was an important game, and both teams really needed to win. One player in particular on the visiting team, annoyed Lisa. He was a short and stocky guy, but clearly strong. In her opinion, he crossed the line from gritty into dirty too often – he was quick, so he often went unnoticed by the referee and linesmen. He appeared to have taken issue with AJ too, which was, of course, why Lisa didn’t like him. She assumed he was going after AJ because he was one of the bigger guys on the ice and he played defense. The two seemed to butt horns more than necessary. They were always on the ice together, and she really didn’t like it. There was way too much pushing and shoving for her liking.

  I’m probably just being over protective!

  If she had her way, he would be permanently on the bench, sans skates, and in a cocoon of bubble wrap.

  He wouldn’t like that so much though.

  Good job I’m not the coach!

  Maybe I could tempt him if I was wrapped up in the bubble wrap WITH him…

  Tonight, he was certainly racking up the ice time. Watching things heat up on the ice, she grew increasingly concerned that it would all end in tears. Hers, most likely. The fans loved a good fight. It was often the best way to clear the air between teams – a well-established tradition in hockey. While it seems co
unter intuitive to non-hockey-fans, fighting in hockey arguably keeps the infractions in check. If you know you’ll get your ass handed to you for a dirty hit, the theory is that you’ll be less inclined to do those things. But now that one of the ‘fighters’ was her boy, she felt very conflicted.

  The call was ‘hooking’, a two-minute, minor penalty for using your hockey stick as a kind of restraint. He had hooked AJ’s right arm, hard. Hard enough that AJ fell to the ice. AJ was clearly on his last thread and snapped, dropping his gloves when he got to his feet – the customary invitation to fight. His buttons were pushed. The guy, wearing the number three, had seemingly started on him verbally, too. She could see his mouth moving and guessed he was trash-talking AJ. In fact, “Three” had thrown his weight around on the ice for the entire game thus far and had even messed with the netminder Mike. If you know anything about anything, you know you never mess with the netminder in a hockey game. That’s just not a smart move. While AJ was not normally an instigator, “Three” certainly seemed to bring it out in him, and Lisa watched in horror as AJ dropped his gloves.

  Three dropped his gloves in response and the circling started. The fight didn’t last long. AJ was taller and stronger and he’d obviously thought this through, because after a few hits, the other guy was down. Despite AJ having won, they were both bleeding, but from where Lisa was sitting, it looked as if it was just superficial.

  Probably another broken nose, she sighed as both boys skated off to the penalty box. A five-minute penalty each. The crowd had loved the action, but it seemed that Three was even more incensed. He tossed his gloves off in the box, and threw a tantrum like a little boy who wasn’t getting his own way.

  The Chargers won – barely, but it was still a win. When he joined her in the bar, she was still a little grumpy that he’d started the fight, despite knowing he’d been goaded into it.

  “Hey,” he leaned over to kiss her cheek. The bar wasn’t too loud, yet, but it was a hometown win – the place would be packed within the hour.

  “Hey,” she replied.

  “Sorry,” he sounded kind of deflated.

  “What for?”

  “Dropping my gloves. But that guy, he just-”

  She cut him off, “Pissed you off, I know.” She sighed and turned to face him. “He pushed your buttons,” she finished as she took him by the chin to get a better look at his face.

  He had a bruise already darkening his left cheek bone and his bottom lip was swollen with a single stitch holding it together. She could tell his nose had been bleeding too.

  “Oh Pim!” she sighed. “He got you good,” she fawned over him. Tracing her finger around his bruise, she kissed him gently.

  “Not as good as I got him,” he winced as he put his arms around her to pull her in tight.

  “How is it?” she asked, indicating his shoulder.

  “Fine,” he obviously lied.

  “Urgent care in the morning?” she could tell he was putting on a brave face.

  He nodded.

  “Want to go now?”

  He shook his head.

  “You sure? They won’t give you a shot in the morning if you’ve been drinking tonight, AJ.”

  She spoke to him like he was neither a grown man who could take care of himself, nor an athlete who went through this fairly regularly. Apparently, she was a mother hen, and she just couldn’t help herself. Thankfully, he thought she was cute when she fussed over him.

  “No, it’s ok, honest. I’m not drinking. Plus, we’re playing tonight. I gotta get on stage.”

  “When did this happen?” she asked, more than a little surprised.

  “About ten minutes ago. The band cancelled, so we said we’d fill in.”

  “AJaaaaaaaaaay! But your shoul-”

  “I’ll catch you after, promise!” he said, kissing her quickly and disappearing into the growing crowd.

  “I’ve been abandoned, by my bruised and stitched enforcer,” she sighed as she plopped herself into the seat beside Chelsea. An enforcer’s job on the team is to deter and respond to dirty play by the opposition, but tonight, she felt as though they were both at fault and she was less than thrilled that it was a double-header weekend, meaning they had another game to play before the weekend was over.

  “He’s playing?”

  Lisa nodded. “Want a drink?”

  “Sure! Want me to come with you?”

  “No, it’s ok. It’s not too busy yet, I can handle it. I’ll be right back.”

  The crowd at the bar was already starting to build, Lisa had to wait a little, but she didn’t mind. Her boy was singing, so she sang along softly until her turn came to order drinks. She placed her order with the barman and glanced up at the stage. AJ was smiling down to her as he sang, and she returned his smile, quickly glanced around to make sure no one was looking and blew him a kiss.

  We are so friggin’ cheesy, she thought making inward gagging noises at this rom-com her life had become lately. She barely recognized herself.

  Turning to pay for the drinks, she picked them up and started to walk back to the table. Out of nowhere, he was in front of her. The hooking guy, number Three. And he was blocking her path.

  Chapter 21

  Great. Just, great! Here stands before me one large asshole, Lisa thought. Stay calm, she instructed herself. She didn’t want to cause any kind of scene, especially with AJ on stage. If this guy said anything to her, the quick game-plan she threw together in her head was to be polite and get the hell away from him as quickly as possible – even though what she really wanted to do was to tear his head off.

  “Excuse me,” she said politely as she tried to side-step him. He moved to block her path, cutting her off. She threw him her best confused-smile, “Could you let me past, please?” she inquired as she attempted, once again, to maneuver around him.

  He intercepted her again. She was starting to get annoyed.

  “You’re not from these parts, are you?” He moved closer to her and she smelled alcohol on his breath.

  This dude must have hit the bottle as soon as he stepped off the ice, she thought, grimly.

  “No pulling the wool over your eyes, is there?” she replied dryly. Her patience was quickly wearing thin with this guy. He’d just hooked AJ’s bad arm, busted his face and now he was kinda holding her hostage at the bar. She attempted to step around him once more, but he moved to cut her off. The old stereotype of hot-headed Irish came to mind as she stood deciding how to handle the situation.

  I think I’m doing pretty well at keeping my Irish temper at bay right now, she mentally patted herself on the back.

  “Excuse me!” she repeated. Louder this time. Before she could move, he was practically on top of her, her back pressed against the bar. The drinks she had thus far managed to keep intact, sloshed over the rim of their glasses, splashing over her hands and dripping down her arms. He reached around her, picked up a shot from the bar and downed it as she attempted to put her two glasses back down on the bar and somehow shake off the sweet and sticky drink from her hands. With her hands, now free, though sticky, she placed them firmly on his chest and pushed.

  “Are you crazy?” she exclaimed hotly.

  “For you,” he replied with a lopsided grin. He slipped his hand around her waist and groped at her butt.

  Is this guy for real? She wondered momentarily, trying, frantically, to come up with some rational explanation for the series of events that were unfolding around her.

  “I’m only going to say this once,” she started as calmly as she could muster, struggling to keep her voice steady. “Take your cheating, can’t play hockey to save your life, hands off me!”

  “I do love a girl with a fiery temper,” he taunted, downing another shot from behind her.

  Is there a never-ending supply of shots lined up behind me? she thought. Cause I sure could use one right about now!

  She stole a look at the stage. AJ had noticed she was cornered by this imbecile. He was in the middle of a
song though, and could hardly dive off the stage and ride up to her on a white horse and save her from this big bad troll. She almost imperceptibly shook her head at him. Concern furrowed his brow. Ignoring her, he waited for the next pause in lyrics and whistled in the direction of their table.

  Probably to Jeremy, she guessed.

  She tried to mouth, “I’m fine!” at him, but this delayed her in escaping the offending visitor – she still didn’t know what to call him. Asshole seems appropriate. Let’s call him asshole – had moved his hand and was trying to insert it between her thighs. Disbelief and anger flared like gasoline poured on an open flame.

  “I TOLD YOU TO TAKE YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF ME!” she yelled, as she lifted her knee, hard, and struck him squarely in the groin. As he doubled over, she grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and kneed him again in the face. “No means no, asshole. Consent is key. And you definitely don’t fucking have it.”

  He slumped onto the floor, hissing in pain as he gripped his groin. Glancing to her now-open side she saw Jeremy standing there, poised to intervene. She held out her hand to signal that she had things under control. She turned on her heel and headed for the door, not looking back. Once she opened the doors, she ran. She didn’t stop until she couldn’t run anymore. She bent over to catch her breath and throw up. Christ, I’m so unfit, she thought glumly, Not the time to berate yourself for being unfit, Lisa.

  What about for running away from every overwhelming situation? Can we talk about that right now?

  Nope.

  Fine. Let’s get to breathing, cause you sound like you’re going to pass out any second.

  She sat down on a nearby bench and hugged her legs to her body. She cried. This wasn’t the first time someone had attempted to assault her, but it was the first time she had fought back. She sat, sobbing quietly and trying to steady her breathing as her tears fell.

  Shit girl, you sure do cry a lot in America.

  She quickly started to get chilly, but she didn’t move. She just sat there, staring into the night. Hearing footsteps behind her, she still didn’t move. She knew it was Jeremy. AJ was either reluctantly finishing the set, or beating the ever-living crap out of the guy she had left in a heap on the floor.