Alex

by Sawyer Bennett

Page 26

  “Any other questions?” she asks cheekily.

  Grinning at her, I rub my fingertips over her soft skin. “Nope. That satisfied my curiosity and has made me very eager to f**k you again. ”

  I start to lean in to kiss her, because damn, I want her bad. The thought of having no barrier between my hardness and her softness has my blood raging. But she pulls her head back a bit. “Well, then I have some curiosities of my own. ”

  I raise my eyebrows, quirking my lips upward. “Really? What might those be?”

  “Have you ever had a serious relationship before? Been in love?”

  I hold my smile but it dims a bit. “No. Never. ”

  “Not even in high school? Or whatever you call it in Canada?”

  Chuckling, I reach down and pull her legs so they wrap around my waist, and she settles down onto my erection with nothing but the material of my shorts separating us. She squirms a little but waits for my answer.

  Giving her a slight tilt of my h*ps so I rub against the heat between her legs, and just so she knows that I find that more interesting than this conversation, I tell her, “It’s called high school there too, and no—not even in high school. ”

  “You didn’t have a girlfriend in high school? A stud like you?” she teases, and in other circumstances, I would enjoy the joking nature of this conversation. But she’s hitting close to a subject that doesn’t produce warm memories for me.

  “I was too busy training. My dad wasn’t big on me dating. ”

  Sutton’s mouth hangs open and her smile fades some, but I can tell she’s not certain exactly what I mean by that. “You weren’t allowed to date? Ever?”

  “Never,” I confirm.

  She pulls her lower lip in between her teeth and chews on it thoughtfully, which is always a sexy-as-fuck move. I contemplate leaning forward and grabbing it with my own teeth when she sidetracks me. “I remember reading online that you left home when you were sixteen to play in the Quebec Juniors. Surely then—”

  Shaking my head, I cut her off. “I left home then, but my dad still controlled me. He forbade me from dating or having a relationship with someone. Hell, he forbade me to have any friends. Training was my number one priority. He wanted me to be the best and to do that, I had no room in my life for anything else. ”

  Sutton stares at me, her eyes doleful. It borders on the look of pity that I thought she had shown me before, which gets my hackles up a bit. “That’s terrible,” she says softly. “You didn’t have a childhood, did you?”

  The sympathy in her voice completely kills my hard-on, and I find myself suddenly needing a bit of space. I easily lift her from my lap and set her down gently on the carpet beside me. Rolling to my feet, I busy myself with picking up the pizza box and paper plates from the table. Sutton follows suit and helps me clean up.

  As I turn toward the kitchen, I attempt to alleviate the darkness of the moment by saying, “It was a long time ago. I’ve more than made up for the fun I missed out on back then. ”

  Following me into the kitchen, Sutton asks, “How? How do you make up for missing out on good times…having those memories?”

  “Who says I don’t have good memories?” I ask, hoping to throw her off the scent of tragic circumstances.

  Throwing the paper plates in the garbage, I turn to take the trash from Sutton’s hand and deposit it in the bin as well. She walks over to the sink and washes her hands.

  “Well…you said you didn’t date…didn’t have any friends. Always had to train. It sounds lonely. ”

  I don’t confirm or deny that because it was lonely. She continues on. “I mean, you didn’t have a first love, or a first kiss with someone special?”

  I like Sutton. I mean, a lot. More than any other woman I’ve ever known. But I see the starry look in her eyes, the utter romanticism seeping out of her pores as she laments the fact that I didn’t have what she deems to be a pretty important rite of passage. I think that means she finds me broken in some way, and while that may very well be true, I don’t like being the victim.

  So I decide to give her a reminder that I am who I am, and that I’ve done just fine with the way things are. I also want to give her a reminder that there’s still a dark side to me that she can never take for granted.

  “I had a first kiss, Sutton. ”

  Her eyes light up, just as I knew they would, and she looks at me expectantly so that I can give her some softly painted picture of my life that will make her feel better about my lack of a normal upbringing.

  “My dad bought a whore for me when I turned sixteen,” I tell her in a low voice. “I wanted to ask one of my classmates to a school dance, something my dad translated into meaning I wanted to get laid. And who knows, maybe I did want that too. So it wasn’t too much of a downer after my dad refused to let me go to the dance but instead brought me to a hotel room…shoved me inside after handing me a condom. Clapped me on the back and said, ‘Have fun. ’ I mean…what’s a kid to do when he walks in and sees a na**d woman on the bed. So, you see…I had my first kiss, Sutton. It just wasn’t very conventional. ”

  I instantly regret telling Sutton that story, because now her skin pales and there is a light sheen of moisture in her eyes. The story has sickened her, no doubt, but she pushed and I let her have it.

  “Your dad was wrong to do that,” she whispers.

  “I agree,” I tell her as I take a step closer to her. “He’s done a lot of things that put him straight in the monster category. ”

  “Like what?” she asks, no hesitation whatsoever in her voice.

  I take one more step and then I’m standing toe to toe with her. Lifting a lock of her hair that hangs over her shoulder, I tug on it thoughtfully. When I lift my eyes to hers, she’s staring at me with clarity, and the look of sickness is gone from her expression. Dropping her hair and reaching my fingertips out, I skim them across her cheek. “You don’t want to know those stories. ”

  “Maybe I do,” she counters boldly.

  Giving her a sad smile, I slide my fingers to the back of her head and grip her neck firmly. “Well, then I don’t want you to hear those stories. They have nothing to do with me anymore. ”

  Sutton wraps her fingers around my wrist and I think briefly of pulling my hand away from her neck, but she holds me tightly in place. “Your past has everything to do with who you are today. ”

  I start to point out that I’ve warned her I can be an ass**le but my words dry up when she steps in and lays her cheek against my chest. The move is tender and caring, causing my heart to lurch in response.

  “But,” she says with utter defiance. “I’m finding I like who you are a lot, so maybe your past doesn’t have quite the hold on you that you think it does. ”

  My stomach flips inward and a hollow, bottomless feeling courses through me because she’s so wrong about that. My past controls almost every action I take and every thought that comes out of my f**ked-up head. Sutton’s arms wrap around my waist and she nuzzles against me, her cheek warm against my skin. It’s a move calculated to show me she cares for me, and the empty feeling is immediately filled with something warm and comforting.

  I wish I didn’t like that feeling so much, because it pulls me in deeper. It makes me want to experience it more, which is very dangerous for both of us. For me, it will make me susceptible to her goodness. For her, it will make her vulnerable to my darkness.

  Glancing at the clock hanging on my kitchen wall, I see it’s getting late. I have to get up early tomorrow for a practice skate and then a team meeting to prepare for our evening game. But I want her again, probably more than once, and I have to budget time for that. I want her to explore me as well, and this could potentially take hours.

  So we better get started.

  Reaching behind my back, I pull her arms away from the comforting embrace she’s offering me and lace my fingertips through hers. Turning, I lead her back toward my bedroom,
neither of us needing to say another word.

  Both of us know that we are perfectly happy with getting lost in each other for a bit of time. In particular, I know that the comfort of her arms provides me with a peace that I’m starting to appreciate, and even starting to crave.

  Yes, I know it’s dangerous for me, but I’ve never been one who scares easily. I’m more worried about the time that will come when I’ll probably hurt her, but I’m still selfish enough to put that thought aside and take advantage of what she is offering me.

  Chapter 18

  Sutton

  As expected after a hockey game, Hoolihan’s is packed and there aren’t any tables or booths available. I decide to order a beer at the bar while I wait for Alex and Garrett. I know from past experience of meeting Alex here after a game that it will be a while before he gets here.

  I take a moment to check my phone. Brandon has finally stopped texting and calling me. I eventually called him and apologized for the way I snapped at him. He also apologized for not understanding what a crappy day I had had and said that he realized it was a little rude to just show up like that and ask me to cook dinner.

  Once the apologies were out of the way, it got awkward when Brandon immediately asked me out to dinner. It was at this point I had to tell him that this wasn’t ever going to go where he wanted it to.

  “I’m sorry, Brandon,” I had told him gently. “But I can’t go out to dinner with you. Not now, not ever. ”

  He was silent for a moment, then he asked, “Is it me? What I did to you? Or is it something else?”

  At that moment, I knew he knew, so I laid the truth out to him. “It’s someone else, in particular. ”

  “Alex” was all he said.

  “Yes. But even if Alex wasn’t in the picture, I don’t think you and I could have started over. I think we were done for good. ”

  He was fairly understanding and we talked for a bit more. We made vague promises to keep in contact and to continue our friendship, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen. Those things never work out as we hope they can.

  I do have a text from Shelley. She’s taken to watching hockey now, in particular the Cold Fury, so we can dish about Alex. She thinks it’s beyond exciting that I’m dating an NHL player, but I never look at Alex that way. I just see him as Alex.

  Not a good game, she texted along with a sad face.

  I wrote her back, I know. I feel terrible for Alex.

  Love on him good. That will make him happy again.

  I wrote back a last message. Head out of gutter. Talk to you later.

  I’m nervous as to what type of mood he’ll be in. The Cold Fury have been on a winning streak and tonight’s game was only the second one they’ve lost since I met Alex. He didn’t look happy after the 3–2 beating they took by the lowest-ranked team in their division. It didn’t change the Cold Fury’s standing, but even I know enough about sports to know that a loss does not make for happy players.

  I texted Alex as soon as the buzzer went off ending the third period, offering to take a rain check on getting together. He didn’t respond, so I had no choice but to head to Hoolihan’s as we had originally planned and wait for him. He had asked me earlier in the day if I minded if he invited Garrett, and of course, I didn’t. I was anxious to learn more about the man who was apparently becoming a good friend to the self-admitted loner, Alex Crossman.

  “Sutton?”

  Turning toward the feminine voice, I see Monica standing there, her blond hair in a riot of curly ringlets. She’s wearing a Cold Fury jersey, obviously having just come from the game. When Alex had gotten me a ticket for tonight, I was slightly surprised it wasn’t in the same spot where I had previously sat beside Monica. However, the change was nice because he put me in The Fury Club, which is a section of the upper-level seating that has plush leather seats, a food buffet and free alcohol. Not that I partook of any of that since I’d be meeting Alex later.