by Lily Harlem
“But attendance is good?”
“Yes, sellouts aren’t uncommon.”
“How about—”
“I’ve already looked into making money by hiring the arena out when the Vipers aren’t using it, and getting some off-season attractions in place to bump up the bank balance. But I still need to do more.”
He sat back, folded his arms.
I couldn’t help but glance at his biceps bulging around his t-shirt. I remembered how they’d felt when I’d gripped them earlier, as he’d sunk deep inside me and groaned in a deliciously carnal way. Had I left marks on his skin with my nails? I couldn’t quite see in this dim light.
“That’s what all of this is about, isn’t it?” He shook his head.
“What?”
For a moment he was silent, then, “You know damn well what.” His voice was suddenly gruff.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeah, you do. Me. It’s money, it’s my three-year contract and how much that’s going to cost. That’s the problem.” He paused and rubbed his left temple. “Fucking hell. Maybe I’m not so bright. Took me long enough.”
“How could you have known?”
“Because it makes sense now why you wanted to play Price. Fill my space with a much cheaper player and then trade me.”
I stayed silent and let him sift through the facts. He seemed pretty mad at himself.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” he asked. “You didn’t insist I sit on the bench first period against the Rangers because you’d taken an instant hissy dislike to me. You were genuinely seeing how the Vipers would cope without me if I wasn’t around.”
“Why would Dad have spent money on a rookie if he was no good?” I shrugged. “I needed to find out. That was the only way. Throw him in at the deep end.”
“He spent the money because he saw potential. That’s what Jackson Price has by the bucket load, but he’s not there yet. He will be, I’d bet money on it. Another season.” He stood, paced to the edge of the deck and put his hands behind his head, threaded his fingers together and let his elbows stick out to the sides. “Besides, you need two goaltenders who can play, not one and a half.”
“Isn’t that what I have now?” It was certainly a thought that had been rattling around my head.
“No way, the kid’s good, seriously good. Just not when Todd-fucking-Carty is around. Todd might be pretty but he’s a fucking menace.”
I waited for him to speak again, or move or something, but he didn’t. He stayed like a statue staring out at the inky water. The owl hooted again and a cricket started up in one of the planters.
After a couple of minutes, I gathered the plates and stacked the tray. Shit. I really shouldn’t have told him any of that. But at least he knew the truth now. That I couldn’t afford to pay his multiple zero wages, and certainly not commit to that kind of expenditure for the next three years.
I didn’t want to not want him. That was just how it was.
Chapter Ten
The first thing I heard the next morning as I rose from the depths of sleep was the sound of the waves. I’d slept with the small windows on top of the French doors open, loving the melodic rolling and crashing sound as I’d drifted off and thankfully let pleasant dreams wash me away.
I stretched and noticed how my inner thighs were tender. The memory of Dustin throwing me over his shoulder, and then us fucking like possessed demons rushed back to me. There was a little nugget of shame and mortification there, but mostly the emotion was lust, a sexy, hot sweep of desire that transported me back to the moment my goaltender had shucked off his clothes and stood, for the sweetest thread of time, all dark and handsome and massively aroused before me.
He’d been right, there was nothing that could stop us. Screwing had been the only thing on our minds.
I glanced at the door—it was shut—then slid one hand over my chest and the other between my legs. I’d started the day turned-on. There were worse things to be greeted with after an eight-hour slumber.
My nipples were tight, my pussy a little damp. I slid my two longest fingers through my folds and then a little way into my entrance. Yesterday Dustin had just rammed home. He’d aimed and fired. No chance for me to get used to his length or his girth. He’d hit the jackpot on one determined ride to completion.
I added another finger, shunted in roughly and tried to recreate that thick, rapid filling sensation he’d given me. But it was nothing like it. Barely a tickle in comparison.
I bit my lip and suppressed a moan of frustration.
Then, oh, then I’d ridden him. Flipped him over and sank onto his cock. I’d taken him so deep I was sure I could feel him in my throat. My clit had captured wonderfully on his pubis and he’d jerked his hips in time with my grinding movements.
Searching out my clit, I began to finger it, just the way I liked, rubbing and squeezing. He’d gripped my thighs as I’d fucked him, pressed his head so hard into the pillow that all of his neck tendons had stood out. He’d been at my mercy, so big and intimidating yet pinned down and being screwed by me. I’d had him. In that moment he’d been mine—but only in that one blip of time, one stolen memory, a deviation from the path of my destiny.
I shut my eyes again, allowed heat to flood my pelvis and harnessed the first rumbles of a building climax. It wouldn’t be long. Morning orgasms were always generous to me. Whether I was with a man or alone.
I was sure there’d be a bruise on my side from where he’d flipped me. One quick flick of his hips and he had me on my stomach, captured by his body lying over me.
He’d got my G-spot just right then. The fabulously wide domed head of his cock rubbing it over and over, pulling it down, shoving it up, generating the deep, blissful feeling that made me want to pee but not.
I was frigging my clit faster now. I held my breath, knew the climax was just there. To tip myself over the edge, I recalled how I’d masturbated yesterday with him inside me. Combining the internal and external sensations had catapulted me into a state of ecstasy I could happily have existed in for hours. And him pumping, too, no barriers, nothing except flesh on flesh, his hot seed just spurting into me accompanied by his gasping groans.
I came. A toe-curling orgasm that I was in complete control of. I eased through to the end, enjoying how my pussy clamped down, throbbing and releasing moisture as my clit bobbed beneath my fingertips.
Not as good a climax as yesterday. But I had to take what I could get, and what I had now was some wonderful wank fodder that would last me for months, or at least until I found another man. A suave, sophisticated guy whom Dad would approve of.
Because if Dad ever found out Dustin and I had gone for it on the bed outside the villa, and, oh my God, if he knew that afterward Dustin had licked me all over, then I’d be disinherited. I was pretty damn sure my father had other hopes for my romantic future than a rough and gruff hockey player.
I jumped through my en suite shower, washed my hair, and then pulled on a little red-and-white polka dot bikini. It had frills over the cups and around the waistband.
I had plans, spending the day sunning myself and reading through some of the reports I’d brought from the office. I figured if I had to do work, then what was better than breaking the back of it on the beach?
Wandering into the main living area, I glanced through the open doors, half expecting Dustin to be where I’d left him the night before, standing on the decking, staring out at sea.
He wasn’t, but a white Vipers t-shirt lay over the back of one of the chairs, so I figured he was up if he’d left clothes lying about.
I poured orange juice, grabbed a slice of melon from the fridge and wandered outside. The sun was scorching despite a glance at the clock telling me it wasn’t even ten o’clock.
The tide had come in high during the night and a slim line of debris, thin sticks and small pebbles, sat halfway between the villa and the shoreline. I set my drink on the table and nibbled the melon.
Splashing out at sea caught my attention
. I peered closer.
Oh God, it was Dustin, it had to be. He was a distance away and swimming at quite a speed, parallel to the beach.
His head was turning, his face and then his dark hair, as his arms powered forward. A slight trail of disturbance, white froth, told me he was kicking furiously beneath the surface.
I finished my melon and dropped it onto the table. I was compelled to go down to the water’s edge, check for fins, or signs of something that would attack him.
The sand was warm so I walked quickly, hunting all the time for those lethal gray triangles that stuck out of the water. He was so far out, he wouldn’t stand a chance. Was he on some kind of suicide mission?
My stomach tensed for him. I wondered if I would bring up the melon. Why was he going farther away? Was he nuts?
I twisted my hands together, worried at my bottom lip.
He suddenly ducked beneath the water. The trail he was leaving behind just stopped.
“Shit!” I shouted, stepping into the first bit of the waves, where the salty foam bubbled around my toes.
He’d gone. That was it. Dragged under and never to be seen again. Some hideous creature had savaged him and was taking him to the dark depths to enjoy his thick muscles for its breakfast.
I could just imagine the headlines. Vipers’ Goaltender Eaten By Great White, No Remains Found. This was awful. What should I do?
The surface of the water broke about fifteen feet from where I’d last seen him. He was powering ahead, swimming fast.
He’d got away, thank goodness, from whatever was after him. Whatever had pulled him under.
He turned toward the shore.
I sent a quick prayer heavenward that he could outswim his attacker. Thank goodness he was fit.
It seemed he could swim at great speed and, as I kept my attention peeled on the water behind him for signs of him being followed, he reached the waves breaking in front of me.
I paced left and right, hardly able to watch in case a last minute attack happened.
Finally, he was in the shallows. I was relieved to see that he had on the dazzling green trunks he’d bought the day before.
“Are you okay?” I called.
“Yeah, you?”
“What was it? Did you see?”
“See what?”
“Whatever was chasing you?”
He looked confused. “There was nothing chasing me.”
“Out there.” I pointed. “You went under, came back up at one hell of a pace. Something must have scared you.”
“Nothing out there that’ll scare me, sweet cheeks.”
He grinned and I knew I’d made a mistake. How stupid was I?
“I was just swimming,” he said. “No gym, no ice, I gotta do something to use up my energy.”
I was about to retort that he’d found a different way to expend his excess energy the day before, with me. But I kept my mouth shut. That was an incident never to be mentioned again.
“You really should try it,” he said. “It’s wonderful.”
“You have to be joking, it’s death soup out there.”
He laughed. “You’re so dramatic.” He held out his hand. “Come here. Just to this bit.”
The water was around his waist when the swell of the tide ambled up his body. He was far too deep for my liking. “No way.”
“Yes way, come on. This is crazy, this fear of yours.”
“Crazy to you. Rational to me.”
“But there’s so much water here, why would anything be interested in a little thing like you?” He nodded at me and let his attention slip down my body. “Not like you’ve got much meat on your bones.”
I fiddled with the tassels on my bikini top and stepped back as a slightly bigger wave rushed forward. “I don’t suppose a great white really cares as long as it’s food.”
“A great white isn’t interested in you, and besides they spit people out, they think we taste like shit. They like seals for dinner, not humans.”
I frowned. I was sure that wasn’t right.
He stepped forward, lowering the water to mid-thigh. “Here then. This is really shallow.”
“But they can—”
“I know they can go in shallow water, but there aren’t any here. I would have seen them.”
“How?”
“Because I was looking, when I was out there.” He nodded behind himself. “There’s a few fish and a bit of seaweed, that’s it.” He smiled, a devil’s smile hidden in a sexy man’s face. “Come on, be brave. How do you expect to run a hockey team if you can’t step into the water a few feet?”
“I can.”
I frowned. “Come on then.”
“You’re too deep. Come shallower.”
“Ah, this is real shallow, just here.”
“But I’m shorter than you. It will be up to my waist.”
“You’re exaggerating, but okay.”
He took one step closer. It hardly made any difference. But even so I moved into the water until it was well over my ankles. I didn’t like to be told I couldn’t do something, especially by him.
“Keep going.” He put his hands on his hips. “So you’re right here, next to me.”
I gulped, glanced around and then moved four fast paces through the skittering waves. It was cold and little splashes bounced up as high as my thighs.
“Well done, keep going,” he said. “That’s nearly halfway.”
I held my breath, stepped deeper, blew the breath out. The sand was squidgy beneath my toes, seeping between them. I stared at the seabed, searching for predators that had sensed my arrival and couldn’t wait to get a taste of me.
There was nothing there, not even a stray bit of weed. It was just clear water.
“Don’t look down,” he said. “Look ahead, look at me.”
I did as he’d asked. Wondered what the hell I was doing facing my phobia so early in the damn morning. Where had the idea come from anyway?
The tide was over my knees now. It stung a little, too, on my grazed one. When small waves headed toward the shore, the surface swelled up to my thighs.
“You’re doing well, sweet cheeks. One more step and you’ll have done it.” He held out his hand.
My heart was racing as I took that final step, reached for his hand and found myself up to my waist in water.
It was the deepest I’d ever been.
“You did it.” He grinned down at me. His lashes were heavy with drips, his stubble even denser than the day before. Now it was almost as long as the hair on his head. “I’m impressed.”
A nervous laugh bubbled up from my chest. I might be in the sea, facing my phobia, but I was scared shitless. The cold was bad enough, seeping into my private places, but the thought of what was looking at me, eyeing me up as a target, was downright petrifying.
He squeezed both my hands in his and steadied me as a larger wave buffeted us.
“That’ll do, we should go now,” I said, glancing nervously around. Had the gush of water brought with it a sea monster?
“It’s fine. Stay for a minute.”
I gulped. I really didn’t want to.
Something hard touched my ankle, swept around it and then hit against my shin.
“Oh fuck,” I shouted. “There’s something there.” I hopped up and down.
Dustin glanced downward. “It’s probably just a small fish or something, or a bit of weed.”
“No, it’s big, and hard.” I stared at the water but I couldn’t see much, the bottom was hazy at this depth. “Fuck, there it is again.” A flash of silver and a nudge on my knee. “I think it’s got teeth.”
I leapt upward, out of the water, and climbed up Dustin’s body, clinging to his shoulders and wrapping my legs around his waist so that only my ass was touching the surface.
He laughed loudly and held me, scooping his hand beneath my butt and his arm around my waist. “Jesus, it’s just a tiny fish. I can see it now.”
“I don’t like it. Get me out of he
re.” I whacked his wet shoulder. “This is your fault. You made me come into the sea.”
“And you were enjoying it until Nemo came along. Chill out. He won’t hurt you.”
“No, you chill out. Chill out and get me to shore.”
He didn’t move. “Say please.”
“What?”
“Get me to shore…please.”
I looked into his eyes, felt him brace as another wave tried to wash us away. “Please, please, take me to the shore, pretty please with sprinkles. I really, really don’t like being in the sea.”
“Well, because you did try, I’ll take you to safety like the good knight in shining armor I am.”
Chapter Eleven
Dustin pushed through the water as though it wasn’t there. I hung on to him limpet-style, and began to breathe again as the cold subsided from my ass and I saw the waves grow smaller.
But when we were out of the water completely, I became aware of how inappropriate it was that I was literally wrapped around his body and suctioned onto him worse than any octopus could.
He stopped with his hand still on my ass. “Better?”
“Yes, thanks.” I swallowed. Being pressed against him was not good for that once-only plan we had. His wet flesh was like rain-soaked concrete. His shoulders glistened, the seawater like morning dew. It didn’t help that I was only wearing a small bikini and that there was only the thinnest bit of fabric between my pussy and his stomach.
“You gonna let me go now?” he asked, one side of his mouth lifting in a smile. “Or are you planning on staying like this all day?”
“No, of course not.” I unhooked my ankles and slid down him.
But I didn’t step away or unlock my arms from around his neck. I couldn’t, he was holding me tight and up close against him.
His smile dropped. He shook his head a little. “I wouldn’t have let anything hurt you.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?” He frowned.
“Yes, you chased down that mugger yesterday.”
He nodded. “I guess I did.” He slid his hands up my back, cupped my cheeks and threaded his fingers into the hair around my ears.