“You are killing me.” I adjust the fabric of her T-shirt again, with a grunt.
“Less than twenty-four hours. That’s not so long.” One more kiss, and she’s in her car.
I stand there like a jackass and watch her drive away. In part because I want her so bad that it’s painful. Damn it. This is going to be a long night. Beginning with a cold shower as soon as I get home.
The anticipation of her is one hell of a high. Like competing for the Stanley Cup. Because come tomorrow, I will fuck Serena Ellis long and hard. She’ll want it as much as I do. Hell, I think she already does.
Chapter 6
Christian
I drive to the gym early to meet the guys and our coaches. At a traffic light, I take a swig of the expensive coffee that I never drink, because I need the caffeine jolt to get me back into form. Two fucking cold showers and I still couldn’t sleep last night.
Serena is screwing with my head, which is a first for me. What’s worse is that I can’t get enough. Hell, I don’t want to wait to see her again and even considered blowing off my commitments today, but the consummate professional in me won out. Even though very few guys make our early session in the gym, and most of those who do are hung over.
There isn’t much talking until we hike next door and hit the rink. My rink. Our head coach thought it would be a great way to bond. For now. So far it’s working out, with the exception of Gallagher. He’s still holding a grudge, and no amount of me reaching out or getting to know him has proven successful. If anything, he seems even more combative.
Those who made it to the finals do slow drills and laps with our coaches. It’s not about speed for us. It’s about gently rebuilding our bodies. The rookies work with their coaches on different, more strenuous routines. I keep glancing at the clock.
“Got a hot date later?” Nick’s got a wide smirk plastered on his face. “You are moving a little slower today. Did you get a workout in yesterday after all?”
When we grab our bottles of water and watch Lucky and Mighty going at it, I admit in a whisper, “I never kiss and tell, bro.”
Choking on his water, Nick says gruffly, “I was kidding. Seriously? The chick from the bar? What’s going on with you two?”
The fact that he went there right away tells me that I’m not keeping my feelings in check. “It’s…I don’t know what it is yet.”
“Fuck,” Nick mutters. “I take it you don’t want the rest of them knowing?”
“Are you kidding? They’re worse than eight-year-olds.” Lucky gives a whoop for beating Mighty in a sprint and several curse words interrupt our conversation. I can just imagine the antics now.
Nick punches my arm. “Yeah, I know that stage. You can’t keep your hands off each other. You have sex on every surface known to man.”
“Dude, shut the fuck up.” My reply is a little too defensive.
“Wait. You haven’t had sex yet?” Nick skates around me. “Seriously?”
Mighty and the Vampire are paired with a coach named Ian Grady. He’s instructing them to give it another go.
The Vampire, our resident Russian, is pale and hates sunlight. He also loves to kick Mighty’s ass. “Come on, asshole. I’ll always beat you.”
As they skate across the ice, some shoving ensues. Predictable. Nick and I let the coaches handle it and sit on a bench. “Why haven’t you had sex yet?”
That’s a loaded question. “Not because I don’t want to. She doesn’t do one-night stands.”
“But she said you were getting laid at the bar and that was how long ago?” Nick is not catching up as fast as I would like.
I sigh, my impatience mounting. “We almost went there, but I’m being a gentleman.”
“What the fuck is that?” Nick leans backward, looking like he just sucked on a sour lemon.
I roll my eyes. “Nice, Nick. Real nice. The word is in the dictionary. You should look it up sometime.”
“Like I’d dare. My ex shoved me out of the relationship lane. Which is where you seem to be right now, moving about twenty miles per hour.” Nick holds his fists out in front of him, pretending to drive. He then smiles and waves to his left. “Oh, look. Grandma and Grandpa just sped past you.”
Shouts grow louder now that the ruckus on the ice has led to a full-on fistfight. The coaches are having a tough time keeping Mighty and the Vamp apart. I race to break it up, grabbing the Vamp while Nick works on Mighty.
“We’re a team. Save this shit for the other guys.” I wrap my arms around the Vamp in a body hug. He thrashes, but quickly yields. Ian stands beside us.
Mighty breaks free and lunges at us. The Vamp ducks, taking Ian down with him, and Mighty’s fist makes contact with my jaw.
“Knock it off, Mike!” Ian yells.
Nick body-checks Mighty and sends him flying halfway across the ice. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you crazy?”
My jaw throbs like a bitch, but I won’t let it show. Instead, I shake off the pain, and Nick’s concern for me. “We’re a team now. We’re on the same fucking side.” At this moment, I’m not even sure who Mighty was aiming at.
Gallagher glares at me while Ian skates toward me.
“What the fuck, Gallagher? Were you aiming at me?” Ian’s voice booms. So, he’s not sure either. “Use your words and say something. Who were you aiming at? Answer me, Mike!”
Ian using Gallagher’s first name just emphasizes the shit he’s in. In our world, our nicknames are sacred.
It’s my turn. “Are you Mighty or a mouse, Mike? You can throw the punch, then not say anything? You sure had a lot to say at the bar the other night when the crowd was eating your shit with a spoon.”
He had too much to say when he thought I was turned down by Serena. Now, his nostrils flare while he remains silent, short of his ragged breaths. He’s pissed at me and Ian. That much is clear. The coaches know it. That’s why they’re in the thick of it, threatening him with punishments. Nick knows it, too. That’s why he skates over to Mighty and grabs him by his shirt, yanking his burly frame off the ice.
“No one does that to our guys—you got it, Mouse?” Nick punches Mike in the face for good measure. This time the coaches don’t intercede. Welcome to Nighthawks hockey. Where the coaches are as enraged by Mike as the rest of us. They’re allowing Nick to deliver the punch they’d all like to throw.
“Maybe I wasn’t aiming for Pretty Chrissy. Or the Vamp. Or maybe I was. Or maybe it was an accident.” Mighty turns to Ian, glaring at him. His eyes tell the story. He wants Ian to know he might have been his target. “I forget. It all happened so fast.”
“Enough!” Ian shouts as I hold Nick back.
“Fuck you,” Mike mutters through clenched teeth.
I exchange glances with Ian and the rest of the coaches. Ian nods to me, giving me the okay to give orders. “Hit the showers, then everybody get the hell out of my rink.”
“Mike. Skip the shower.” Ian’s command causes Gallagher to stop dead in his tracks, but Mike doesn’t turn around. Instead he skulks into the locker room. The guys, Nick included, follow while I stay behind to talk to the coaches.
“That one is a problem.” Ian shoves his hair from his face. “We’ve got to let management know.”
Nodding, I can’t agree more. This may be Mike’s first physical incident, but he’s thrown a shit-ton of red flags before this. It doesn’t look as though his attitude is going to change. Not that I want to admit I can’t handle this guy to our veeps, but this is no way to begin a hockey season. Bottom line, we don’t need Mike’s shit and it will just be a cancer on the team from the get-go if we don’t nip it. “I’ll go with you. See if you can set up something for tomorrow. We’ve got to shut this down.”
By the time I hit the locker room, Lucky is tying his sneakers and his shoulders are shaking.
“Shit, Lepr
echaun. Why don’t you just point an arrow at his locker?” Our resident Swede, Theo Ture, shakes his head. Between his hair and beard, you can barely see his face. Thor is tough as nails and loves pounding the competition. He lost the cup last season and is hungry for it.
I turn to my locker. Sure enough, everything has been rearranged. “Funny, Lucky. Real funny.”
“It happened before the punch.” The Mountain joins my side, handing me an icepack. “It was supposed to be a joke. I’ll arrange everything back to where it was while you get in the showers.”
He’s a nice guy. A Canadian who has experience in the league. Still, despite his best efforts, there is a shit-ton of negative energy in the room.
“Just go home, guys. Make plans with your coaches on the way out. My rink is officially closed for these fun and productive sessions until further notice.”
When all else fails, scare the shit out of them. Alpha Male Psychology 101.
“This got serious real fast,” the Vampire whispers.
Nick rounds on him. “Yeah. That’s what happens when you instigate a fight and Mouse decides to clock our team captain. You know, the guy who’s taking us to the Stanley Cup? Chris won’t say it, but I will. Training camp hasn’t begun, boys. Get in line or you’ll be replaced. It’s as simple as that.”
“Why? Because you say so?” Mighty rises from his bench.
“No. Because I haven’t seen any magazine covers hyping the Nighthawks with your face. Have you?” Nick towers over Mighty at six-foot-six. “You want a cup? He’s already won two. Oh, the same two you lost. What does that tell you? Get your fucking act together.”
I refuse to show weakness, so I stand, posture stiff, with a lethal glare. My anger and frustration are at an all-time high. Lucky is the first to apologize, followed by the Vampire. They leave the locker room, and the rest of the team remains behind.
“This is bullshit. We are a team.” Thor glares at Gallagher. I think he’s going to rumble with the smug son of a bitch.
Patting his chest, I veer him toward the door. “It’s okay. I appreciate it. Put the hammer down.”
Thor laughs. “Rule number one: the hammer goes with Thor. Everywhere. Haven’t you seen the movies, dude?”
Far be it from me to remind him what happens to the real Thor’s hammer. Instead, I grin. He’s a good guy. Someone I’ve been getting to know and have mad respect for. Honestly, the team is filled with good guys. “Take care, guys. Your coaches are waiting.”
My teammates exit, leaving Mighty to stare and stew. He refuses to say jack crap. So, I do the talking. “I’ll be damned if I let one asshole destroy this team.”
Gallagher flinches. “You think you’ve got it all. The cups, the cash. Well, fuck you.”
“Hey.” Nick takes a step toward Mike.
Getting in between them, I hold Nick back. “Get out, Mike.” When he fails to move, I say through gritted teeth, “Now. You don’t want to fuck with me any more today. I will kick your ass.”
As Mike walks by, he bumps into Nick with his gym bag. “I’d like to see you try.”
“You fucking—”
“Calm down,” I mutter to Nick. “He’s not taking us down with him. Got it?”
Nick’s muscles are twitching, his teeth bared.
“Got it?” I ask. He’s my family. First and foremost. I won’t let anything happen to him. He may be my unofficial enforcer, but I have his back, too. He’s not going to get caught up in the Mike mess.
It isn’t until Mike leaves the locker room that Nick answers me. “Thanks for talking me off the ledge. I was about to knock some teeth out.”
“Yep. I knew that.” I pat him on the shoulder and walk to the showers.
Placing the icepack on my jaw, I lean against the wall, under the cascade of water. “Shit.” New team, new problems. At least Nick has my back. But he needs to keep it together. Mike definitely got under his skin today. Mouse has that effect on people.
I towel off and head to my locker, where Nick is organizing my stuff.
“Mike’s a problem,” he says, tossing me my pants. Nick then arranges my shampoo and deodorant left to right by height.
“Tell me what I don’t know. Ian and the coaches are meeting with management about him. I’ll be there too. I don’t think it will be an easy fix, but they’ll do what they have to. The team will come first. You know Marcus.”
Marcus Noble is the owner of the Nighthawks. A billionaire, and known for his keen business acumen, he’s also a man you don’t want to mess with. Nobody messes with Marcus. He’s got a reputation for being a shark, though he’s been nothing but good to me.
While I’m pretty tough, with a high threshold for pain, the thought of meeting with Marcus about Mike makes me a little intimidated. I’m supposed to mentor the jackass, but Gallagher can’t get out of his own way.
“Mike’s gonna force Marcus’s hand and find himself out the door.” Stepping into my trousers, I drop the towel and zip them. “Hey, leave my locker alone. It’s my phobia, not yours.”
“I’m finding it oddly comforting right now. Unless you’d rather me punch a wall.” Nick tosses me my deodorant. “Mike wants what you’ve got. The fame, the fortune, the girl kissing him in a bar…he wants it all and knows he’ll never get it. That motherfucker can’t go quick enough.”
True. I agree. Mike’s going to cause as much destruction as he can. He’s that type of guy. “We’re not even into the season yet, and our own guys are sabotaging us. So much for me making a team.” I grab a clean shirt and button it.
“Hey, you haven’t done the math.” Nick crosses his arms over his chest. “You’ve got the rest of them. The Demon’s on board. He couldn’t make it today, but he’s got your back. Even the Vamp does. And our non-Marvel Thor is ready to go all hammer on Mike’s ass, as you saw. We’ve got good guys. Mike’s the bad seed.”
“How many of the ones not taking part in our summer activities will follow Mike’s lead if he’s still around?” I tuck my shirt in and run a brush through my wet hair. According to my watch, Serena will be at my house soon. “You’ve got a key. Skate if you want. I’m taking a couple of days off.”
“With Serena?” Nick asks.
I shoot him a what the fuck look. “I don’t know yet. How the hell do you know her name?”
He shrugs. “I asked her friends after you left the bar. Her friend Becca is nice. The whole group is. Serena Ellis…You know her dad sold the Nighthawks the land for the stadium, right?”
The throbbing in my jaw intensifies. “Fuck. She told me about her family, but I didn’t put that together.”
“You’re playing with big fish in a deep pond, my friend.” Nick leans against the lockers.
“Serena told me her parents are wealthy, but, shit, I never guessed. The Ellis Corporation owns most of Manhattan, right?” It’s more of a statement than a question. Forget fish. I’m in the ocean with circling sharks who smell blood in the water.
“You’ve got the dream girl.” Nick walks to the locker exit. “Now, you need to hold on to her. If you want to, that is.”
That’s the question. One I already know the answer to, though I won’t admit it aloud. Not even to my best friend. “No pressure there.”
I follow Nick out of the rink and lock the doors as it begins to rain. It’s gotta be some sort of fucking sign. I curse as I settle in the Rover, watching the pelts of rain hit the windshield. The team’s in trouble. I should be concentrating on this shiny new shit show, not Serena.
I’m reminded why I never date. Because it takes work, and I don’t have time for it. I reach for my cell and am about to call her to cancel. My index finger hovers over the call prompt, but I can’t push call. I’m physically incapable of it.
Hell, I deserve to get laid. I deserve some fun. We’re not talking love or marriage. We’re talking sex. S
ex with someone I am really into. But, still, it’s just sex. It’s consensual. It’s what I need. Though my instincts are quick to tell me it is more than that, I ignore them.
“Fuck it.” I place the car in gear and drive; windshield wipers and rain are the only sounds. No radio today. Just me and my thoughts.
Serena is nice, sexy as hell, and sends my senses reeling. But there is no commitment, short of tonight. I’m making too much of this. It’s just a fuck. Nothing more. We both want it. I continue to remind myself of that the rest of the way home.
Chapter 7
Christian
I asked Nick to take Puck for the night. He loves dogs and needs a companion. I’m in need of hot sex with no interruptions. He was happy to oblige, though I didn’t talk sex out of respect for Serena.
It’s pouring, and as I wait by the door with an umbrella, I check my watch for what has to be the twelfth time in less than a minute. She’s late again. I then check my cell. No missed calls or texts. I’m just about to call her when she pulls up.
Rushing down the steps to my driveway, I wait beside her driver’s door with my umbrella. Though it’s dark, I can discern enough through the shadows to catch her stuffing something in an oversized purse. I squint, but between the gusts of wind and rain, what it was remains a mystery.
Serena opens her car door, and together we run up the steps and inside. Her Volvo taillights blink, which tells me she’s locked her car with the fob. Kinda funny, considering I live in a wealthy gated community. I don’t question it, though. Instead, I study her. Red raincoat and heels. Red heels. Sexy heels. She’s got a thing for red and I’ve got a thing for her.
“Sorry, I got stuck in traffic.” Dropping her keys in her purse before tossing the bag on the floor, she turns to me. Her minimal makeup remains in place. Like even Mother Nature knows not to mess with Serena.
Patience isn’t one of my virtues. The fact that she’s dripping rainwater in my hallway makes no difference to me. I want her. Now. And that is before she lowers her hood.
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