by Kate Meader
Gunnar.
Sadie watched him almost as closely as she watched her sister. He wasn’t as vocal as Theo who spent most of the time on his feet hollering like a madman at the team, much to Elle’s amusement. No, Gunnar had that quiet, forceful solidity Sadie could feel from all the way across the rink and twenty rows up to where she was sitting. When Lauren was on the ice, he followed her motions intensely. When off it, he sat beside her and pointed to things happening on the rink. During these interludes, Lauren didn’t look at him, just kept her eyes on the play, but Sadie could tell her sister absorbed every word into her heart.
He must have been a wonderful dad.
The sharp catch in her chest made the connection. All that loss, yet here he was hanging with kids and giving back. Perhaps he was further along in the healing process than she, or even he, had thought. Perhaps … no, don’t think you can be his harbor.
For some reason, this man wanted to bed her. Her, Sadie Yates.
Well, a bed hadn’t been mentioned but an offer of mind-blowing, no strings sex with a hockey god was on the table. She assumed he was a god in the physique stakes; her eyes and fingertips didn’t lie and no man filled a T-shirt like that without being able to back it up. The appetizer orgasm had been wonderful, though the antagonism between them had definitely helped, and the teary afterglow had only added to the tenderness she felt toward him.
It was also hard to hold a grudge against a man who had taken her sister under his giant wing. Yet Gunnar Bond still managed to irk her with how he’d phrased his offer of multiple orgasms.
Don’t look for any relationship vibes here, Sadie. I’m a Viking Robot and don’t do emotions. Ignore those tears behind the curtain.
She reached into her bag and took out a pad and pencil. Her nerves could do with some soothing, and sketching might help. A few quick lines, a swoosh of action, and Sadie managed a smile.
“Oh, that’s good.” Jenny leaned in. “Could you get one of Jason?”
“Sure.” She drew a few sharp lines, softened the ones around his feet to indicate motion, and pulled up his visor so she could add a dimple. “Here, what do you think?”
“You’ve captured something there,” Jenny said. “There’s something truthful about them. Did you go to school for design?”
Art had been her bedrock when she was a kid, a way to stay in her head and ignore her body. She might not feel beautiful but she could control it on the page. That love of lines naturally flowed into design and making her own clothes instead of relying on plus-sized, shapeless bags.
“I thought about going to design school, but it didn’t work out.” Actually her father had refused to pay her tuition unless she majored in something “useful.” Besides she couldn’t hate his guts and take his money at the same time.
“You don’t need it if you’re already designing your own stuff. I know you probably don’t have the time but I’d love to have one of your dresses.” She rolled her eyes. “Not one of your dresses, but a Sadie Yates exclusive. For me.”
“Me, too,” Elle said. “Give me something to look forward to after I lose all the baby weight.”
“Oh, I haven’t done anything for anyone before.”
“But that’s the plan, isn’t it?” Jenny sipped her wine. “Make a business of it? I’d pay you, of course. You could take my measurements and then send it to me when you’re back in LA. Whenever you have it done. Unless I’ve completely overstepped here.”
“No, not at all. I mean, that’s what I want to do.” Having people wear her designs might be even better than trying to get investors. Maybe she could start a portfolio on Instagram. Real women in Sadie Yates Originals … “I’d love to.”
“Awesome,” Jenny said. “So what are your plans for the Fourth?”
A week from Sunday was Independence Day. Usually Sadie would be helping Allegra host a cookout and taking photos and video for her social. She’d promised she would be back in LA but that was looking less and less likely.
“Packing, packing, and more packing.”
“Would you like to get out of the city for a night? Theo’s grandmother is in a play in Saugatuck. It’s a couple of hours drive away, and we’ve been invited.”
“Oh, but that’s a family thing, surely?”
Elle leaned in. “Theo has bought out one night of the show and wants to pack the house. We can’t get out of it, so why should you?”
Sadie felt warm at their easy acceptance of her. It might be nice to skip town for a while, and especially escape the house with its chatty walls and ever present ghosts. “I don’t really have any money for a hotel …”
“Don’t worry about that,” Elle said. “Theo also bought his gran a big house years back with his signing bonus. There’s plenty of room and you’re going to love Aurora. She’s a hoot!”
“Looks like I’ve run out of excuses to refuse. We’re in!”
“Excellent.”
Team Li’l Rebels won 6-3. Lauren scored a goal and helped with two more—assists, Jenny said—which apparently counted almost as much as goals in bragging rights. After the game, they headed to a lounge in another part of the complex for a camp graduation party.
She found Lauren, went for a hug, but stopped at the look of horror on her face. In that moment, she looked so like their dad that Sadie had to fight the lump in her throat. “You were awesome! I can’t believe how good you were. Good thing we found Benny.”
“Who?”
“Sorry, I meant Iggy. I snagged him from the car.”
“Uh, thanks.”
“So, did you have fun?”
“I suppose. I’ll be back next week anyway.”
“Yes, you will! Off you go and get some pizza,” she said, though Lauren was already heading for the food and her new friends. It was good to see her acting her age around other kids. Anything Sadie could do to take Lauren’s mind off the family’s issues, she’d make it work.
As for her own issues, her greedy eyes sought out the man of the hour. Gunnar stood near the door—oh dear—watching her like a ravenous wolf spotting his prey. Sleeves of his T-shirt looking ready to shred at the biceps, pillar-thick thighs that had already done a fine job holding her steady. He took a long draft of beer from a bottle. The sight of it traveling down his throat should not have had any impact on her whatsoever, but she was weak. She wanted to lick that throat and more.
“Here you go.” Jenny passed her a bottle of water. “Figure we should be responsible and sober up. You okay? You look a little flushed.”
“Me? Oh, fine.” She placed the bottle against her heated cheek. “So how long does this thing last?”
Jenny raised an eyebrow. “In a hurry?”
“Not at all! Just wondering what the etiquette is.”
“This is the first year we’ve done it.” She checked her phone. “Probably another hour or so.”
Sadie’s phone buzzed with a text message, and her heart skipped at the name of the sender: Gunnar.
Edited from LonelyHeart, which she’d changed after a quick visit to the restroom. Out in the parking lot, he’d become someone else and in that moment, she’d become someone else. Someone desirable and good enough to break a man’s sex fast.
Gunnar: Make an excuse and meet me outside.
She shot her most meaningful glance his way and made a face to indicate this was nuts and she couldn’t possibly and did he not realize there were children present, for crying out loud.
With eyes raking her body, he placed a hand in the pockets of his sweats and pulled out something pink. No, he wouldn’t dare.
He would. Another inch of fabric.
The. Fiend.
She turned to Jenny and squeaked, “I need to make a phone call. Work. Could you keep an eye on Lauren?”
“Of course. Say hi to the Punani Queen for me!”
“Will do!” Ignoring Gunnar, she sauntered right by him and out the door.
For forty-three excruciating minutes after the game, Gunnar watched Sa
die from across the room, enjoying the way his body changed in her presence now that he’d given himself permission to indulge this desire. She was throwing her hands around, explaining something to Jenny. He checked her out furtively, getting a kick out of her vibrancy.
Why did he say all that stuff to her about connection and feelings? He wasn’t a big talker—he hadn’t been with Kelly—and now he found himself needing to explain to this woman something unexplainable.
He wanted her.
Badly.
Telling her why and how and all the ways he wanted her had assumed a weird importance. He could say it was to avoid any confusion about what this was, about the potential for more than the physical. He was explaining for her sake.
Not true.
He was doing it for himself. He needed to say aloud that this was merely biological, a raw physical need. Rest assured, Kel, nothing more than my dick will become involved.
Yet he found himself in a bind. Because he wasn’t an asshole, not really. His factory setting was good guy. This cranky, brooding version was a placeholder, a shell he’d created to pour his pain and hurt into.
These dueling versions of himself were as far apart from each other as Chicago was from LA. He and his useless emotions were in flyover country. What was left of him, the rubble of his existence, was all he had to give. He hoped it was enough to satisfy Sadie for a brief time.
He waited a couple of minutes after she left then turned for the exit.
Theo materialized like a phantom. “You’re leaving?”
“Do I need permission to take a leak?”
“No, but you might need condoms. Got any?”
Gunnar went for the bluff. “Why would I need condoms?”
“Because Sadie just left and you’ve been making eyes at her for an hour. Going to give her a tour of the facilities?” He shuffled closer. “And by facilities, I mean, your—”
“I know what you mean, Kershaw.”
The man had a point. He hadn’t even thought of protection, hadn’t thought for a moment he’d pounce on Sadie in the parking lot, demand possession of her panties, and then text her to meet him for sex in the middle of a hockey youth camp graduation celebration.
Who was this person?
“You prepared?” Theo raised an eyebrow. “I have a condom in my wallet.”
“Is this from the same batch you used when you knocked up your woman?”
Theo grinned. “No, actually. Those condoms—and you’ll note I used the plural—belonged to Elle. She picked them up at the army base where she used to serve, so you could say Uncle Sam is responsible for that cock-up. Though really, it all worked out for the best because without the baby we probably wouldn’t be together. So thanks, military-industrial complex—”
“Just give me the rubber, Kershaw.”
“Sounding impatient there, Double-O! Try to give the poor woman a good time before you blow your load.”
Jesus. “Forget it.”
Theo zigged when Gunnar tried to zag. “Hold up, man! Just kidding around. Here you go.” He slid a foil into Gunnar’s hand, who slipped it into his pocket with Sadie’s panties. He was fifteen years old again.
“I’ll cover for you while you’re gone.”
“No one will ask—okay, thanks.” The kid meant well but Christ, he was exhausting.
At the end of the corridor, Sadie was circling a spot. On hearing footsteps, she quickly put a phone to her ear. Acting. When she spotted him, she lowered the phone and smiled.
His cock stirred and his heart flipped over. Both of them, just like that. Ker-ist. That should not be happening.
He closed the gap and took her hand. “Let’s go.”
“Where? We can’t stay away for long. I have to …” She thumbed over her shoulder.
“I won’t say I’ll be quick because that’s not a good look.”
She giggled, and that sound released a coil of tension inside him. He turned and kissed her because to not do so would be a missed opportunity for joy. He found himself craving it all. Craving her.
“What was that for?” she whispered when he let her up for air.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
She blinked in surprise. “Oh. I’m glad I’m here, too.”
He tried a door, pleased as fuck to find it open, and pulled her inside. Coach Calhoun’s office. He turned the lock behind him.
Their breaths mingled as he moved close enough to kiss her, yet he held off. Waiting for her to give him the go ahead. The last time, he’d lunged at her like an animal.
“Gunnar, who’s Angel?”
“Angel?”
“When I called you yesterday, you asked for Angel.”
Ah. “What I called you in my contacts. The girl from LA, Angel.” Tying it to the other reason, how she’d saved him, would be too much.
She smiled. “Mystery solved. Now are you going to kiss me?”
“Do you want me to?”
She placed a hand on his chest and he damn near lost his mind. How did she do that with one simple touch?
“I want you to make good on all that orgasm talk. And I don’t need any seduction. I’m all in.”
She stroked his jaw, her touch soft. He captured her mouth roughly, with a hunger he’d kept at a simmer below his boiling surface. His veins—and other parts—bulged with desire.
Something she said pinged him. “What do you mean you don’t need any seduction?”
“You’ve already said what the expectations are. So no need to play games. I’m a sure thing.”
He liked the no games thing and he had explained what this was about. That didn’t mean they had to forego a buildup. Did she think she didn’t deserve to be told how sexy and desirable she was?
“I know I’m rusty but that doesn’t mean I can’t make it good for you.”
She trailed a finger down his chest to his sweats, then brushed the back of her knuckles over his straining cock. Not going to last.
“How rusty?” She mouthed an O. “Sorry, I shouldn’t pry.”
“It’s okay. But to make it good for you, I need you to … not touch me until I say so.”
“You mean anywhere?”
He pushed her back toward Coach’s desk. The man would kill him if he ever found out, but Gunnar couldn’t wait a moment longer. He placed her on the edge, jerked a chair forward, and sat down.
“Pull up your skirt.”
She inhaled sharply. “You mean—”
“I need a taste, Sadie. And once we’ve taken care of you, then you can touch me. I’ve only had the company of my right hand for the last three years, so this is the best, the only, way to make me last.”
The tenderness he saw there almost broke him. He figured he could be honest about sex. About desire. This was the first woman he’d been with since Kelly and there was no point lying about it.
She looked over his head at the door.
“Don’t worry, Sadie. No one’s coming except you.”
Her gaze smoldered and she pulled at the fabric of her dress, a pretty black skirt with white dots. Raising one foot shod in a cute low-heeled sandal, she placed it on his thigh. He moved the chair closer while curling his hand around her ankle.
The skirt inched higher, oh so slow. This woman had claimed not to need seduction, but these moves were seducing them both.
“That’s it. Gimme a peek of all that sweetness.”
He’d never been much of a dirty talker, but this was good. It separated the now from the then. Family man Gunnar was gone and in his place, a harder, unencumbered version remained. His cock thickened at the words coming out of his mouth, the flash of desire in her eyes, the skirt creeping higher until finally—fuck, all that pretty pink heat came into view.
He scooted closer, lifting her other leg to slot in at his waist. The move forced her to balance her palms on the desk.
“Wider, honey. Show me everything.”
Her breath came in shallow pants now, and as he watched that beautiful sigh
t, she turned wetter under his intent gaze. His mouth watered. He spread his palms on that silky soft skin inside her thighs—which always felt like the most vulnerable place on a woman’s body—and coasted his palms north.
Peering up, he found her lips parted, her silver eyes wild.
“Need to see more of you. Take off your blouse.”
With shaky fingers, she unbuttoned, revealing a pretty cream bra, edged with lace. Her tits were the stuff of every male fantasy. Full, voluptuous, waiting to be sucked deep and long.
“Uncup them, Sadie. I want to see your breasts. I want them ready for my tongue.”
But first, he needed to feast on all the pretty before him. His thumbs strained closer and then he gave one light swipe. She shivered all over.
“Like that, honey?”
“Yes. Gunnar, yes.” Her voice sounded strangled.
He ran a finger along her soft seam. “You’re so fucking wet. Ready for me to taste you?”
“Jesus, yes. Please.”
Her impatience made him chuckle and lightened the situation. Inclining his head, he gave the lady what she needed. What they both needed. So sweet, the perfect treat. She cupped the back of his head, urging him closer, and he gave her his all. Sucking, licking, feasting on her in a frenzy. She came quickly, and he was disappointed it was over so soon.
But it was only the beginning.
He stood to find her panting and still in her bra.
“What did I say, Sadie, about needing you naked?”
“I haven’t had a chance! You got me off so fast I can barely catch my breath, never mind follow your precise orders.”
He kissed the indignation off her lips. “Not my fault you’ve got a hair trigger clit.”
“Not usually. But damn, you’ve got skills, Bond. Thought you were rusty.”
He kissed her again, feeling freer than he had in years. “I guess you bring out my A game.”
“Now can I touch you?” She looked down between their bodies. “Though at the rate that thing’s expanding, it’s going to be touching everything in the room soon.”
This woman was funny. He’d forgotten how funny she was.