As the message ends, I push the button for the second message. As soon as it opens up, I let out a loud bark of surprise. Because there's Pam, in one of those satin bunny costumes. She has a pair of ears on her head, a tiny little puff of a tail on her rear end. Her curves are on full display, and she definitely looks better than the real bunnies who delivered those baskets.
"Hey, Georg," she says. "Through this series, you've received several messages from a special bunny who loves you. Hopefully you've figured out that it was me. And hopefully you've figured out that I am fully aware of what a total idiot I was."
Evan pops up at my shoulder and asks, "Is that Pam?"
I nod vigorously.
"Hot," he says.
I just keep nodding.
"I love you, Georg. And I got permission for us to see each other. And I get to keep my job. I was an idiot for not fighting for this sooner. But these past weeks, I've realized that loving you is really real. It's the most real thing I've ever known in my life. And I want to be yours. Always, if you'll have me. I have a proposal for us, and I can't wait to tell you. I'll see you soon."
The video message ends with her blowing me a kiss, and I'm frantic. That can't be it, right? There's got to be more. I look around, at every angle of the tunnel. The opening music is playing, and the players are about to get announced. I have to skate out onto the ice with the team, but I need to know where she is, if she's really here. I need to see her with my own eyes.
After most of the players are announced, the starting offensive line gets announced with a video of their best goals all season. Following that, there's a montage video that plays, showing Viktor, Tyler, and me making a bunch of crazy saves. We all hold up our sticks as they announce our names, and the crowd goes crazy. But then, an even crazier thing happens.
A song starts playing. And it's live. There's a platform being pushed out to the center of the ice, and red carpet rolled out to meet it. A guy with a big pompadour starts singing a song about the Vegas lights.
"Panic at the Disco," Evan yells into my ear. If I thought the crowd was crazy a minute ago, they are breaking the sound barrier right now. "Holly arranged this, because she's a big friggin' music nerd. He's from Las Vegas."
The guy has a great voice and a big-band, Frank Sinatra-like sound that mixes with a pop, dance, alternative feel. It's hard to describe, but the crowd is up and moving as he sings.
When he finishes the first song, he gives a speech about how proud he is to be here to cheer his hometown team toward a second championship. Then he says, "Now, I have a special guest joining me for my next song."
And out comes my Pamela, in full Playboy Bunny getup, high heels like skyscrapers, her blonde hair down her shoulders the way I like it best. She looks amazing, and I literally let out a groan of want and desire.
"Easy there, big guy," Evan says with a chuckle.
The singer hands Pam the mic, and she starts to speak. "I have an important proposal to make, and the answer will determine Brendan's next song. She turns to me and, to my total surprise, she falls to one knee. My heart is going to bust out of my chest I'm sure, but I don't even care, because I only have eyes for my beautiful sexy bunny.
"Georg, I told you earlier that I had something important to share. As you know, I love you. I realize I can be annoyingly stubborn sometimes, and I make the worst decisions because I've lived most of my life avoiding commitment. Before I met you. Then you came along and broke down every one of my walls with your love and your charm, teaching me that what we have together is something very special. I don't want another day to go by without you, so…with team permission, I'd like to fraternize with you every day for the rest of my life. You once told me that your younger self wanted to marry Miss March someday, so, Georg Kolochev, wonderful man that I love with all of my heart, may I be your Miss March?"
I don't know what I expected to happen next when I saw Pam's video message in the tunnel, but a marriage proposal during the pre-game was not it. I love it though. I love her. And now the whole world knows that she loves me enough to lay her heart into my hands for all to witness. During a nationally televised game in the Stanley Cup Finals no less. She did that to show me I'll never have to doubt her love for me again. And I don't. I won't, ever.
My face feels like it might break in half from my smile, but it feels so fucking good because she's here and I can see her. I pull off my helmet so she can see me too and nod my head so there's no doubt about my answer. A big, mute, stunned dummy. That's me. Nodding up and down over and over and over. Yes. Yes. Yes, baby, yes.
Evan gives me a push at my back and one foot goes in front of the other until I've reached the base of the platform where she's still kneeling. I pull her off the platform and give her a quick spin on the ice before dipping her back and kissing her fiercely. I don't want to stop kissing her, and I couldn't care less that so many people are watching. The crowd absolutely explodes.
The cheering is so loud my heart is literally pounding along with the thumping beat coming from the Crush fans. When I can finally bring myself to release her back up to standing, she gestures to the singer, who breaks into a song about The Death of a Bachelor.
It's perfect. I grab her again and skate her to the gate. Once she's off the ice, I can't resist another kiss, before murmuring against her lips, "I love you, Pamela Jenson."
"I love you." She puts her hand to my face and smiles at me with happy tears shining in her dark brown eyes. "Now go out there and win this game, and then afterward I can show you just how much. I'll be here waiting for you."
"The six best words I've ever heard."
Thirty
Pam
AND HE SCORES!
Even the high of proposing to Georg, being engaged to Georg, can't override the feeling of total exposure in this skimpy bunny suit. I make a beeline down the tunnel, high-fiving strangers as I head down to slip into something a bit more comfortable. The adrenaline is still pumping through my veins. I can't believe I just proposed to Georg at a game. In front of so many people. But I did, and I have the puffy lips to prove that my Georg said yes. Oh my God, he said yes!
Still shaking as I remove the bunny costume, I switch it out with a fitted black dress and heels before heading back up to the owner's suite. I'm greeted with hugs and words of congratulations as I enter, and I can't wait to get a drink to calm my nerves. I want to just sit and watch the game and let it all sink in for a while. I think I'm still in shock to be honest. Out of body experience, anyone?
Max Terry approaches me, clinking my glass with his as we look out on the start of the game.
"So, there must be something in the water here, huh?" he muses. "First Evan and Holly, now you and Georg. Who's next to topple our fraternization policy for the sake of true love?"
"I don't know, but I'm really grateful to have this job despite it. Thank you for giving me a second chance. Thank you for giving Georg a second chance, too. This team means the world to him."
"He's really grown into a valuable player," Max says. "And you did amazing work getting him back on his feet after what could have been a season-ending injury."
"Well, thank you, he was worth the effort."
We're quiet for a few moments, watching the action. Max lets out a frustrated groan as we miss a shot on goal. Then, very casually, he asks, "Why the bunny costume?"
I take a deep breath. "So last year, remember when Georg, Evan, and Viktor got in that bar fight?"
"Ugh. Yes, I remember. Stupid boys."
I nod in total agreement. "Indeed. Well, that night, I went back to Georg's hotel room. I was a little post-traumatic I think, from getting knocked down, but Georg was in a rage about it. So it took a really long time for both of us to calm down enough to have any kind of intelligent interaction. I started asking him random questions. Like, if you could be any kind of animal, what would it be? And, when you were a boy, who did you want to marry?"
"What kind of animal did he want to be?" Max asks.
<
br /> "Oddly, an orangutan," I answer. "And he said that his thirteen-year-old self really thought he would grow up to marry Miss March from the Playboy he stole from under his dad's mattress."
Max lets out a big belly laugh. "So, you're his Miss March."
"In the flesh," I say, grinning.
"That's really clever. And cute."
"And embarrassing to be seen in that ridiculous getup in front of a gazillion people. But…that was how I needed to do it, so c'est la vie."
"Indeed," he says. "Well, cheers to you both."
The game is surprisingly normal for the first two periods. Each team scores in each period, so the game is tied at two-two going into the third.
I can see the concentration on the first-string line's faces as they huddle on the ice prior to the start of the period. Evan is talking a lot with his hands. Holly is literally bouncing up and down in one corner of the suite, biting her nails.
The period kicks off with Evan in control of the puck right off the bat, making it close enough to shoot before getting checked at the boards. DC seems to be resorting to a lot more physicality in this period than in the previous two.
Mikhail gets tripped on a breakaway, resulting in him on his face and an opposing player in the penalty box. Ready to fight back, Viktor levels one of their offensive players, sending him to the bench on concussion protocol. Ouch.
The minutes tick down, with no more goals, but several hard hits. The game gets to the last two minutes and it looks like we'll go to overtime, but then I see Georg stop a goal and wing the puck right over to Mikhail. The opposing team would have expected him to send it to Evan, so they're not in position to stop Mikhail as he nears the goal. The goalie looks ready, though, and someone skates fast to get to him, to provide just a little extra support. Just as Mikhail gets sent to the glass, he pushes the puck backward. Doesn't take the shot. No, he sends it to Georg, who is right behind Evan. Evan moves to the left, closer to the net, and just when I think Georg will pass it to Evan, he doesn't. Instead, he takes a shot.
And he scores!
My Georg. My fiancé. A defenseman. He just scored what is likely the game-winning goal in a game the Crush had to win to push this series to a seventh game.
The energy in the arena is electric. The sound in the owner's suite is overwhelming, with cheers and crying and all kinds of emotional outbursts, including my own. Weeping. That's me right now, full-on weeping, exposed out in the open where people can see the tears streaming down my face. But I don't care about either. It's not something I'm used to feeling, but then none of this is familiar because I've never been in love before. I didn't know love like this was even possible for someone like me.
But with Georg Kolochev it is. It so is.
* * *
A million hours between his goal and the moment I'll finally get to be with him again are passing at a snail's pace. I realize he had to do the post-game press with some of the other players and shower, but I'm terribly impatient waiting in the hallway for him to finish up. I pull out my phone for what easily could be the tenth time, when I feel familiar strong arms wrap around me from behind. A sigh of pure relief comes out of me as he presses his body flush with mine. His spicy cologne fills my nose as his damp hair falls forward to brush against my cheek. I close my eyes and just take him in. Finally.
"I'm looking for my smokin' hot fiancée. Blonde. Legs for days. Rocks a bunny suit like a Playboy model. Wears it better, actually. Seen her?"
All is right in my world again.
I'm in Georg's arms and he's kissing me. I'm pretty sure we're both crying. It's the best feeling in the world. "What do you want to do tonight?" I ask once he lets me come up for air.
"You." He's not even joking. His eyes take on a serious note as they move over me intently.
"Well, that's a given, but were you planning to go out if you guys won? I know I was a surprise for you tonight showing up like I did, and maybe you had plans for after the game with—"
I don't get a chance to say more because Georg shuts off my babbling with his beautiful lips. Beautiful lips I've missed so, so much. Showing me how much he's missed me too. Kissing me senseless, until I don't remember the question I even asked.
Doesn't matter.
Don't care.
Pretty sure Georg doesn't care either.
* * *
We end up doing the most mundane thing ever. Pizza and salads while watching the post-game cuddled on my couch. His physical exhaustion pretty much matches my emotional exhaustion right now, so when he told me he wanted to go home with me, where we could be alone, I offered my very enthusiastic approval to his "plan."
I ordered our dinner from my phone as he drove. To my place. I wonder if he wants our reunion to be back at my condo because that's where we left things, and he needs to cancel that other sad memory out. I sense he's deep in thought from the intense expression on his face. Every few moments he looks over at me and smiles. He holds my left hand in his right until he needs it to drive, but then it comes right back to find mine again. Now that I think about it, his hands have been all over me since we met up in the tunnel. It feels to me as if he's worried. Like if he lets go of me, I'll slip away or leave him. That thought gives my heart a sharp pang for hurting him., but I tell myself he'll never have to worry about me leaving ever again.
"How long until the food gets here?" he asks the minute we're inside.
"Forty-five minutes to an hour," I whisper, barely able to get the words out. I'm nervous, and the predatory gleam in his eyes as he backs me against the wall ratchets up the tension another notch.
"Perfect. Just enough time to take the edge off, because that's all it'll be. I need you over and over again until this ache I've been carrying around for too fucking long is totally obliterated."
His words cause tears to spring to my eyes as I nod up at him. "Whatever you need, I want to give you."
That gets me a smile.
It's not long before his fingers are up my skirt and he's sliding his palm over my thigh, covering as much skin as he possibly can. I return the favor by unbuttoning his shirt and tugging it free of his pants. The defined planes of his pectoral muscles, as always, look good enough to lick. When I do exactly that with a wet kiss over a peaked nipple, he shudders into my neck. "I love you so much, and I hated every day that I couldn't be with you."
"I hate that I caused all of those days apart for us. I'm so sorry."
"You were scared, I get it. But we can get over our pasts. We can move forward together. Right?"
"Together," I say, dipping my hand down into his pants to find his cock. After releasing him from the confines of his boxers, I stroke the silky length to full, erect hardness. It doesn't take long. "I want that very much, Georg. In fact, that's all I want."
He groans, pushing himself hard into my hand. "Feels so good…Pamela, more like that."
His palm grinds between my legs as I stroke him, his lips kissing down my neck to find my mouth periodically, our tongues mingling before retreating again.
"I don't want to come like this," he says pulling me over to the couch. "I want to be inside you when I come."
Happy to oblige, I straddle him after he sits. With zero hesitation, his fingers push my panties aside for quick access. Thank God, because there isn't time to take them off. Roughly, he plunges inside me at the same time his mouth claims mine in a blistering kiss. I'm full of him. He's everywhere. So deep, so big, so penetrating. I can't help the sound that comes out of me—a cry of pleasure and pain in equal measures. He swallows that too. The pleasure is because he's inside me once more, but the pain because I was the one who caused us to be apart in the first place. I don't have long to ponder though, because he begins to move. Hands at my back, in my hair, at my neck, working my body to fit his need of me. I'm lost in the sensation of being claimed by my man. Totally and irrefutably claimed. His mouth skims along my jaw, moving down into my cleavage where a nipple peeks out from the low neckline of my dress. He n
ips at it, shooting heat straight to my core as his cock spears into me.
His palm finds my clit and grinds at it, the pressure intense as we pick up the pace. I can't get close enough, can't move fast enough. The pressure builds and builds, and I can hear myself moaning. Over and over he slams into me, melding our bodies into something fucking wonderful. Wonderful fucking for sure. Georg knows what I need, because his free hand pushes at my ass, pushing me forward so his other hand is a constant pressure against my clit.
I see stars when the climax hits. Literally, my vision goes fuzzy. My breathing halts. I'm in outer space, for all I know. All I feel is the pulsating vibration of being thoroughly and truly loved tingling through my whole body.
When I come back to reality, I'm sagged against Georg, barely coherent, but enough to see that his eyes are closed, his chest is heaving, and his cock is still shuddering inside me as he works out the end of his own orgasm.
"We came together," he finally breathes. "Like it should be."
Georg
Game seven remains at home, and the streets of the Vegas Strip are lined in Crush colors. People, flags, lights…it's all for us. We are at a pre-game signing party, and I've probably had four women tell me they should be my fiancée instead of Pamela Jenson.
Of course, they’re completely wrong. After a long night of reconnecting—in about every position possible—I woke up early to a text from Scott, congratulating me on the engagement and the big bonus he just scored for me based on my goal in game six.
I promptly kissed my sleeping fiancée's head and snuck out to meet a jeweler I know so I could blow that bonus on a ring. I've now had forty-eight hours to soak her in, and think I'm leveled out back to normal again.
When the conversation got around to talking about our wedding, I was the one to bring it up. Would we have a long engagement? Live together for a while first? Pam rushed in saying that we didn't have to get married right away, and if I wanted to wait indefinitely it was okay with her. I put a stop to that noise immediately. I took her face in my hands, looked her right in the eyes and said, "I've just gotten you back and I'm not interested in waiting to make it official. I'm marrying the fuck out of you just as soon as we can arrange it."
Sin Shot: Vegas Crush #2 Page 20