Sterling
A Carolina Reapers Novel
Samantha Whiskey
Contents
Also by Samantha Whiskey
Now Available In Audiobook!
1. Sterling
2. London
3. Sterling
4. London
5. Sterling
6. London
7. Sterling
8. London
9. Sterling
10. London
11. Sterling
12. London
13. Sterling
14. London
15. Sterling
16. London
17. Sterling
18. London
19. Sterling
Epilogue
Crimson Covenant
Connect With Me!
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Copyright © 2020 by Samantha Whiskey, LLC All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you’d like to share it with. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Also by Samantha Whiskey
The Seattle Sharks Series:
Grinder
Enforcer
Winger
Rookie
Blocker
Skater
Bruiser
Wheeler
Defender
The Carolina Reapers Series:
Axel
Sawyer
Connell
Logan
Cannon
The Raleigh Raptors Series:
Nixon
Roman
Hendrix
An Onyx Assassins Novel:
Crimson Covenant
A Modern-Day Fairytale Romance:
The Crown
The Throne
Now Available In Audiobook!
Grinder
Enforcer
Winger
Rookie
Let the Seattle Sharks spice up your morning commute!
To the readers who stay up late
1
Sterling
"Good to have you back, Sterling," Paul, one of the jacked security guards at the player entrance to Reaper Arena said as I made my way to the door. It had been a long year, but I was finally home.
"It's good to be back," I replied. "How are the kids?"
"Are you talking about my middle schoolers? Or that group of juvenile pranksters you like to call teammates?" He cocked his head to the side.
"That's them," I said, flashing a grin. With a wave, I disappeared into the arena.
God, I'd missed this place. Not that Bangor hadn't been awesome, but I was a Reaper through and through.
Before that expansion draft, I'd taken it for granted—being a part of a team I loved. Never again. I might not be able to control my future in its entirety, but as of last night, I had a five-year contract to play where I belonged, right here in Charleston, South Carolina.
"So the prodigal son returns," came a voice I knew all too well. Canon, one of the best forwards on the team, pushed off the wall across from the entrance to the locker room.
"I'm not sure I'd say prodigal," I responded with a shrug. "But I'm back."
An uncharacteristic smile broke across the guy's face, and he grabbed me into a quick hug with a less than subtle back slap before quickly releasing me.
I guess marriage could soften even the hardest of hard asses.
"Hey," a guy called out as he stuck his head through the locker room door. "Why the hell didn't I get a hug when I signed?"
The kid couldn't have been older than twenty-two, maybe twenty-three. He still had that slick shine that came standard with most rookie contracts and an undeserved ego.
"Because I don't fucking like you, Olson," Cannon snapped, folding his arms across his chest.
"For the last time, it's Thornton," the kid fired back.
"Still don't give a fuck.” Cannon lifted his eyebrows.
A bigger player pushed Thornton out of the way, his familiar face lighting up as he saw me. "I thought I heard your voice out here!" Briggs pulled me into a hug, half-dressed for the ice. If we weren't careful, the atmosphere would slip into mushy territory. Not that I gave a shit. My heart was full, and my feet were so light I couldn't imagine anything bringing me down today—I was home.
“Signed last night,” I said after the back slaps. “How many Reapers are here?” Gathering before preseason for a few pickup games was one of the things I’d missed in Maine. Hell, I’d missed all my friends here, including Briggs, and I hadn’t even known him as well as the others before I’d been caught up in the expansion draft.
“Enough to have some fun this afternoon,” he answered. “Where’s your gear?”
“In the car.” I motioned behind me. “I have to sign one last thing with Silas, and then I’ll grab it.” There was a part of me that expected this deal to fall through at any moment. “What were you doing out here in the hall, anyway?” I asked Cannon. “Waiting for my smiling face?”
He snorted. “Hardly.”
In what could only be fortuitous timing, the elevator doors opened down the hallway, and a tiny, waifish blonde stepped out, her eyes locking onto Cannon with a magnetism the two had always shared.
“Ahh, I see now.” I grinned. “Hey, Persephone!”
“Jansen!” She waved, her smile lighting up the space and even bringing one to Cannon’s face. The guy might have been a tatted-up giant, but damn if he wasn’t wrapped around his wife’s little finger.
After yet another hug welcoming me home, and a low growl that told me to keep my hands far, far above her waist, I stepped back, feeling better than ever.
“Are you headed up to Silas’s office?” she asked as Cannon tucked her against his side.
“Yep.” I nodded.
“Good. We just finished a meeting about the foundation, so I know he’s up there waiting. Have you moved back into the village yet? Did you get your old house? Want to come over for dinner this week?” She fired off each question before I had answered the previous one, which only made me smile. Persephone didn’t just run the Reapers’ charitable foundation, she was pretty much charity incarnate, always looking to put people at ease.
Cannon chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“I’m moving back tomorrow if the truck gets here with all my stuff on time, and no,” I finished softly scratching the back of my neck. Another aspect I’d missed about the Reapers was the housing development just outside Charleston that the team owned. Most of the players lived there, contributing to the family atmosphere that I hadn’t found in Maine. “Unfortunately, there were a couple of last-minute trades, and whoever signed his contract right before me got my old house.”
Persephone’s face fell. “Oh. Well, that’s okay. You’re still on the street, right?”
I nodded. “Right next door, actually. And yes, I’d love to come over for dinner.” My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I quickly turned off the alarm. “That’s my five-minute warning. I’ll catch you guys out there.” I said my goodbyes and strode for the elevator. Asher Silas—
the owner of the Reapers—had infinite patience for his players with the exception to a few small pet peeves. Being late was one of them.
I stepped into the elevator and hit the fifth floor. Silas’s office was at the highest level of the arena, far above the coaches and admin. Even the escalators that carried fans up to their seats couldn’t reach his domain.
“Hold the elevator, please!” Just as the elevator doors were closing, a slender hand reached through.
I stabbed the door open button and retreated to the back of the small space to make room for the woman who hurried in, her face hidden behind a veil of black hair. “Thank you,” she said quickly, turning to the panel, but halting her finger just above the fifth floor. “Oh, you’re going up, too, I see.” Her shoulders rose and fell quickly, and her posture was ramrod straight.
“Sure am.” I leaned back against the furthest wall and crossed one ankle over the other as the doors shut. A light, acoustic version of Tonight by Smashing Pumpkins drifted through the speakers as the doors closed and we began our ascent.
The markers above the door lit up with each floor we passed, and I kept my eyes glued to the little illuminated numbers and off the figure of the woman just ahead of me. Not that I hadn’t immediately noticed a delicately curved waist that led to an incredible pair of hips under a navy blue sheath-style dress, but I liked to think that noticing was above staring.
She adjusted the file folders in her arms, and I was noticing again as we passed the third floor. I tried to drag my attention back to the numbers, but those hips led to an ass that made my mouth water, and then mile-long legs that ended in the sexiest high heels I’d ever seen. The blue pumps—at least that’s what I thought they were called—had red soles and must have given her petite frame a five-inch boost.
How the fuck did women walk in those things?
The file she’d braced on her hip slipped, sending papers fluttering to the floor as the number four lit up, and I immediately dropped down to help her.
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” she said, her voice light and breathless, but her trembling fingers told me it most definitely was.
“I don’t mi—”
She turned slightly, and her hair fell away as our eyes met.
Holy fucking shitballs of fire. The world stopped at the sight of those crystal blue eyes. Crystal wasn’t even the right term. I’d only seen that color once—back a couple of years ago when I’d volunteered to help Axel with his summer camp back in Sweden. Her eyes were the exact color of the glacier he’d made me hike to.
Thank God the captain of the Reapers didn’t take no for an answer, otherwise I never would have known what to call that shade of blue she was rocking, but there it was. She had bright, glacier-blue eyes…and the world. Fucking. Stopped.
She gasped, as though she’d felt the earth shift too, like I wasn’t the only one experiencing whatever connection this was between us. Fuck me, she was breathtakingly beautiful, her features as dainty as she was. All except those eyes. Those were huge and so damned gorgeous I only noticed something was really wrong when they disappeared.
The elevator had gone black.
She cried out, the sound breaking something deep in my chest, and I instinctively reached for her, grasping her small shoulders to keep her from tumbling over on those impossibly high heels that I could no longer see.
I would have laughed if I couldn’t feel the panic tensing her muscles into bricks. The world hadn’t stopped, but the elevator had. Talk about some fucking timing.
“It’s okay,” I said softly. “The backup should—” The lights came back on, but only a fraction as bright as usual. “There we go.”
Her shoulders began to quiver, and her eyes widened, staring at me in abject horror.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” I assured her like I fucking knew.
She nodded slowly, her entire body shaking.
“Why don’t we sit you down?” I suggested.
She nodded again, and I tightened my grip slightly, taking her weight so she could lower herself to the floor without falling straight on her ass. “S-s-sorry. I don’t do small spaces,” she whispered. “Are we stuck?”
Claustrophobic. This had to be her worst nightmare. “I’m sure it’s just a hiccup,” I said, keeping my voice as soothing as possible. “I’m Jansen, by the way.” Hell, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d introduced myself by my first name, but there it was.
She blinked rapidly, swallowing before she took a steadying breath. “Sterling?” she guessed.
“That’s me.” I slipped my cell from my back pocket, before crouching in front of her. “I’m guessing you must work for the Reapers seeing that you’re headed up to Silas’s little treehouse.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “Treehouse?”
“His office is on the highest floor, accessible by only two elevators, one of which only he has the key to, so I feel pretty safe about calling it a treehouse.” I grinned, hoping it would put her at ease.
“I never. Thought of it. That way.” Her breaths were coming faster.
Shit, she was going to hyperventilate.
“How about I call and see what’s going on?” I said as I quickly scrolled through my contacts and hit the button for Langley’s phone. The Reapers’ publicist—who was also Axel’s wife—was always chained to the damn thing, so I knew she’d pick up.
“Hello? Shit,” she muttered, followed by the sound of something shuffling.
“Langley, it’s Sterling.”
“Hey! Look, I’m glad you’re back, but we just had a power outage—”
“Right, and I’m stuck in the elevator with…” I looked at the blue-eyed woman and lifted my brows.
“London,” she answered.
“London,” I repeated, loving the way her name curled around my tongue.
“Well. Shit. Hold on.”
There was another shuffling sound like she’d covered the mouthpiece, and her words became muffled.
London closed her eyes and started to focus on her breathing. In through her nose and out through her mouth. She might be terrified, but I had to give her all the credit in the world for managing what she could.
“Okay, Sterling, you there?” Langley asked through the phone.
“Yep, if you consider here somewhere between the fourth and fifth floor.”
“Okay, the building manager says the power is coming back right—”
The lights flared to life, brightening to their full level. “Now,” I finished Langley’s sentence, breathing in a sigh of relief.
“Thank God,” London whispered, scurrying toward the panel of buttons and pressing the fifth floor.
Nothing happened.
Fuck.
London stabbed the buttons for every single floor, but we weren’t budging. “This is not happening!” she shouted, pushing them all again.
“Right, so we’re still stuck,” I said to Langley, my chest clenching at how trapped London had to be feeling.
“Awesome. Okay. I’m on it. We’ll get you out of there as quickly as possible. The south elevator, yes?”
“That’s the one.” I hung up with Langley and slid my phone back into my pocket. “They’re sending someone to help.”
London leaned back against the wall, then slid down it, slumping in defeat. “We’re stuck in here.” She stared at the closed doors, her eyes unfocused and her breathing shallow.
“What can I do to help you?” I leaned back, letting my ass hit the floor and bracing my elbows on my raised knees.
“Um. Talk to me, I guess?”
“I can do that.” Happily.
She blinked those glacier-blue eyes at me and sucked in a breath. “I’m not crazy.”
“I would never even think of using that word,” I assured her.
“I just have a small—” She winced. “Okay, a large problem with claustrophobia. I fucking hate elevators.”
“So distract you?” I offered.
“Distraction is good.�
�� She tucked her hair behind her ears and nodded. “Incredibly long story short, I got myself locked in a really small tornado shelter as a kid during a game of hide and seek. The bad news? I was alone, and it took my brother almost twenty-four hours to find me.”
My stomach plummeted. “And there’s good news?” I asked incredulously.
The corners of her mouth tweaked upward. “I won the game.”
I laughed, the sound filling our little corner of the world and earning me a full, but shaky smile out of London. “Well done, but I can definitely see how that would lead to some claustrophobia.”
“It’s something I’ve been working on ever since,” she admitted, dropping her forehead to her raised knees and breathing deeply. “Tell me something you’re scared of.”
“Hmm.” I moved so I sat beside her, our shoulders touching so her body would register that she wasn’t alone. Normally I would have given her some sarcastic answer, but this wasn’t exactly a normal situation. “I’m not scared of too much, honestly. Except maybe disappointing my mom. She gave up everything to raise me and did it on her own.”
She lifted her head, clearly surprised. “Really?”
“If you knew my mother, you wouldn’t look so surprised. She’s pretty much a cat five hurricane when she’s pissed. Stubborn as hell, too. And it’s not like she had any help from my father since he’d hidden the fact that he was already married when he knocked her up.” That was the lightest version of events I was willing to divulge to a near stranger.
The truth was that my sperm donor of a father was a Grade-A asshole…and one of the best goalies the world had ever seen. Sergei Zolotov was a legend, not only here in the NHL, but in Russia, where he was born, and probably still lived with his perfect wife and two of his perfect kids. The third kid, who was no more than three months older than I was, currently played for Las Vegas. We’d crossed paths exactly seventeen times, and only on the ice. He’d never once gotten a shot past my glove and never would. Fuck him.
Sterling: A Carolina Reapers Novel Page 1