by Lily Harlem
“No, buddy, just finalizing a contract.” Dustin walked over to him and slapped his hand on Vadmir’s shoulder, the sound of flesh on leather creating a crack. “Seems our new boss is pretty smart at getting what she wants.”
“I wouldn’t argue with that.” Vadmir grinned at me in that predatory way of his and I remembered what Dustin had said about him chewing me up and spitting me out had I gone to bed with him back at the hotel.
Not that I would have. It seemed Dustin “Speed” Reed had been the only man I could think of since the very first time he’d called me “sweet cheeks.” No one else had been on my radar since, despite being surrounded by a glut of hot guys.
And he’d just walked away from me all over again.
Chapter Eighteen
“What can I do for you, Vadmir?” I asked, sitting and placing my hands beneath the table. They were shaking, which annoyed me. I shouldn’t have let Dustin get to me like that. Shouldn’t have let him get so close and I absolutely shouldn’t have allowed Vadmir to catch us like that. It was hardly professional conduct for the new boss of the Vipers.
“I’ve got a problem,” Vadmir said, walking up to the desk. “Back home.”
“In Russia?”
“Yes, my father, he is ill, seriously ill. I need to go to him as soon as possible.”
“Well, of course—”
“But you are worried about the game tomorrow night, Miss Gunner. I should stay and—”
I held up my hand. “Hey, I know what you’re going through. It’s not so long ago I raced back from Paris to my father who was critically ill. You should go now if that’s what you need to do.”
He shook his head and frowned.
“Listen,” I said, “you’re a valuable member of the team, the last thing we want is for you to not be here, but family comes first and if he’s that sick…”
“He is, I just spoke with my mother, she is… How do you say…? In bits and pieces.”
“Then there’s no question about it, you’re needed. Mike will figure it out with the lineup, this is why we have subs, for injuries and emergencies just like this.”
“You are sure?”
“Yes, of course.” I frowned. “And I hope he’s okay when you get there.”
Vadmir shook his head and rubbed his fingers over his forehead. “That is what I hope for, too.”
“Can you fly today?”
“No, next flight to Moscow is tomorrow morning. And then once I arrive I must take a drive of four hours to Vologda.”
“Well, safe journey, and here.” I handed him one of my business cards. “My personal cell number is on there. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help from this end.”
He took the card and stared at it, looking exhausted and relieved all at the same time. “Thank you, Miss Gunner. I really appreciate you understanding like this. It’s more than I could have hoped.”
“It’s no problem at all.”
“We’re lucky to have you.” He nodded. “I can see that now. The team, I mean. Lucky to have you.”
“Thanks.” I smiled for the first time since I’d applied a Band-Aid to my heart. “That means a lot.”
Vadmir left and I nibbled my bottom lip. He would be missed, he was a great player, but I did believe family came first. It was the way I was wired.
I opened my laptop, intent on tackling a few more emails, but I couldn’t concentrate. All I could think of was what Dustin had been about to say. On the island he’d never felt so what? Relaxed, hot for it, in love? No. I shook my head, not that last one. Impossible.
I stroked my arm, retracing his touch. What would have happened if Vadmir hadn’t interrupted us? Perhaps Dustin would have gone on to say how much he regretted being with me, that it was going to be awkward beyond belief now and not worth a few days of fun and a couple of wild and sexy romps.
I dropped my head, plastered my fingers over my face and groaned. No, he wasn’t like that, I was sure of it. I’d seen the soft center he kept hidden beneath his tough outer shell. He was a guy who loved kids, helped out whenever he could, wasn’t afraid to stand up to what was right and what was wrong. All of those were qualities that had made me fall for him hook, line and sinker. Would he really spin on a dime and be so cruel to me now?
It was something I couldn’t imagine and didn’t want to. The only thing for it was to accept that we’d been a fling. Nothing more and nothing less.
*****
The game against the Red Wings had the players on edge, so Mike told me in the corridor outside the locker room. With Vadmir out and after the previous week’s defeat, spirits were not as high as they should be. Add in Raven needing extra rest because of an old injury flaring up and the mood in the locker room was solemn.
I wrung my hands together, wishing I hadn’t decided to carry on Dad’s crazy tradition of giving a pregame pep talk. Now not only did I have to worry about what to say to all the sullen big hunks of muscle in there, I also had to face the man who’d stolen every one of my dreams the night before.
His face had loomed from the darkness, smiling, laughing, teasing, coming. I’d seen his every expression in my sleep and loved them all. When I’d woken, in that moment before fantasy turned back to reality, I’d reached for him, stupidly expecting to find his hot, hard body warming the sheets of my bed, ready to warm me.
“Shall we?” Mike asked, opening the door.
“Sure.” I stepped in. I wore the same cream power suit I’d worn the day before, but instead of scarlet blouse and heels, I’d picked emerald green. The top was silky with a ruffled collar and the shoes had peep toes.
As always the scent of male bodies and the distant smell of ice made me feel slightly out of place and ultra-feminine, a combination I found both alluring and unsettling. I forced down a glut of nerves, visualized the speech I’d rehearsed as if it were written in front of me, and followed Mike.
“Miss Gunner,” Ramrod said. His face was grim and he was banging his gloved hands together, creating sharp whacking sounds.
“Ramrod.” I nodded and looked around the room, purposely skimming my gaze over Dustin. But that was a hard task. Bigger than everyone else because of his padding and swirling his stick in his hands, he drew my attention the moment I spoke.
“I know we’ve had a rough hand dealt this week, guys, but when the going gets tough the tough get going, right? And I know you can do this.” I clenched my fists and tore my gaze from Dustin. “My father’s told me how we’ve wiped the floor with these wannabes in the past and I don’t see why that can’t happen again.”
“Yeah, that’s right, damn wannabes,” Brick said with a snarl. “We’ll show ’em.”
A selection of gruff cheers and murmurs of agreement filtered around the hot locker room.
“I’m not going to tell you how to play, that’s not my job.” I glanced at Mike. “He does that, but I want you to all know I’m rooting for you, holding my breath for you, willing in here.” I touched my chest, looked back at Dustin. “In my heart for you to kick ass and get those damn points.”
A collective cheer went up. Several players stood, towering over me. Yet again I tore my gaze from Dustin then hurried out of the way as Phoenix set his focus on getting to the ice with Brick hot on his tail. I didn’t think they’d hesitate to barge right through me.
“Well done,” Mike said with a smile as players clattered past. “A quick boost is all they need. To know you care.” He touched my arm lightly, and then headed out.
I turned. There was only Dustin left in the locker room. He was staring at me with that about-to-frown crease between his eyes again.
“Are you planning on playing, or what?” I asked, folding my arms and going for stern. It was that or hurl myself at him.
“Huh?” He stepped up to me and I had to tilt my head way back to look at his face. His skates were pushing him to well over six-and-a-half-feet tall.
“I just needed to clear something with you first,” he said.
“What’s that?” He’d shaved, his jaw was smooth, the scar on his bottom lip more noticeable. There was a time I would have just reached out and touched it, touched him. But I couldn’t do that anymore. He wasn’t mine to touch.
“The contract, the three years. When’s it going public?”
“Whenever you want it to. I’m proud that we’re getting to keep you. It’s no secret as far as I’m concerned.”
“No secret?”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“You don’t like secrets, do you?” he asked.
“No, honesty is the best policy, so I was brought up to believe.”
“I agree.”
“Speed, Jesus, get out here,” Mike shouted around the door. “Like now.”
“Yep, coming.”
Dustin didn’t move. Instead he just lowered his head. For a moment I thought he might kiss me, but then he breathed deep, shut his eyes and said, “Damn, why do you always smell so damn good, it’s like a fucking drug to me?”
I opened my mouth, about to ask what the hell he meant, but he disappeared. Three huge paces and he’d left me standing there gaping and wondering what I was supposed to do about being his drug when in my heart I knew that he was mine, too.
*****
The puck dropped and the crowd roared. A drum was banging a frantic beat in the corner and my heart seemed to thump in time with it. I was in the skybox today and I could see that Mike was on his feet, as were the other coaches. I alternated, my shoes requiring a little sit-down time, but every skim of the puck in Dustin’s direction and I leaped up, clasped my hands and willed him to stop it.
He did.
The first period went by. Brick had scored the only point after a face-off but had also been sent to the sin bin for two minutes. Mike appeared to want to both slap him around the head and hug him.
The Red Wings were playing hard and fast, not dirty but not squeaky clean either. Two players swooped in on Phoenix, cornered him into the boards and stole the puck. Mike hollered for Ramrod to back him up, but he needn’t have bothered, Ramrod had seen a break, thrown his bulk through the opposition sending two sprawling, and grabbed what he wanted. Another goal was scored much to the frantic delight of the home crowd, and the drum beat so loud I feared for my hearing.
During the remainder of the second period the puck didn’t go near Dustin because the Viper’s defense was impenetrable. He was on high alert, though, guarding the mouth of the goal, his concentration never leaving the game. I couldn’t help but wonder that he was the same man who’d given up control to me so trustingly and sweetly on the island. Confessed his desires, become vulnerable and allowed me to enter not just his mind but also his body.
I thought of the threads on his wrist, of the young boy they represented and wished I could take away the pain I’d seen in Dustin’s eyes as he’d talked of the loss of a friend. I hoped he did have children of his own one day. It was clear he’d make an awesome father.
Mike leaped up and I could lip-read him shouting, “Go, go, go.” I joined him just in time to see Phoenix score on a one-timer from the center line. Mike was grinning broadly as he punched the air.
“Yes!” I shouted and clapped.
But I’d spoken too soon. The Red Wings had come back strong, dumping the puck on an accurate slide toward Dustin. It scooted ’round his left skate and the sound of it pinging off the goalpost as it angled to the back of the net made my heart sink.
“Off-fucking-sides,” Mike appeared to yell, just as the ref signaled the same.
“Thank God for that,” I murmured with a shake of my head.
Mike jabbed at his right temple and leaned over the boards.
I did my best to lip-read his next words, which looked like “Watch the damn game, Speed. Concentrate, will you!”
Dustin glanced Mike’s way and then upward at me. He firmed up his shoulders and swayed slightly from side to side as though maximizing his size, setting his attention back on the puck.
The third period began with the Vipers two goals in the lead. Tension ran hot through my veins as the minutes moved slowly. But eventually the final buzzer went with the score unchanged.
When the players finally left the ice and their adoring crowd, I couldn’t get down into the locker room quickly enough.
When I got there the atmosphere was electric, on fire. The win had been just what the Vipers needed and, after being so embroiled in their depression after the Rangers defeat, I wanted a bit of the high, some of the good stuff.
The noise was deafening, shouts and yeehas and a whole load of back slapping. Several players had their tops off and I was met with a sea of skin and rippling muscles. All had their helmets off and were sporting bad hair and flushed faces. They looked like they’d taken on the world and won.
“Hey, boss, you happy?” Brick called with a wide grin.
“Yes. Very.” I smiled back and nodded enthusiastically. “Well played.”
He pushed toward me, bent down and kissed me on the cheek, quickly and a little hard. “Helps having eye candy around.”
I laughed at the cheeky glint in his eye. “And all the hours of training and a seriously huge quantity of talent.”
“That, too,” he nodded and chuckled.
Suddenly I was picked up high by two dinner-plate-sized hands around my waist. I gasped and looked down at Ramrod.
“Fucking amazing, eh?” he shouted over the din. “What’d you think, boss?”
“That, yes. Fucking amazing.”
He twirled another three-sixty then set me down. I staggered slightly and bumped into Phoenix, who was popping the cork on a magnum of champagne. The fizz tumbled out. Mike and Price tried to catch it but Phoenix was letting it spurt upward in a shower of bubbles. A few big drops hit my cheek and I laughed and swiped at them.
Another two players planted kisses on my face. Another cork hit the ceiling and Ramrod shouted something disrespectful about the Red Wings and received yet another big cheer. The sound went right through me, thrilling me. I was completely caught up in their achievement, their excitement. I could see why Dad had found it so addictive, so enjoyable to be part of a hockey team and to keep it alive and kicking and keep his players winning and happy.
I spotted Dustin. He was on the opposite side of the locker room, peeling off his shoulder padding. His eyes were blazing as he stared straight back at me. His lips were a flat line. I wasn’t sure if he was thrilled about the win or annoyed that I was there celebrating with everyone.
My heart sank. Perhaps he didn’t want me around at all. I’d monumentally fucked up by fucking him. Running the team was never going to be the same for me as it had been for Dad. Not now I’d screwed the goaltender and made him regret breathing the same air as me. I wasn’t really welcome here. There was too much baggage already.
I felt my smile fade, the heat drain from my cheeks and a heavy weight settle in my chest.
I should go.
Dustin stood, stripped off his next layer and dropped it on the bench behind him. It landed in a crumpled heap over his pads, forgotten, and then he straightened, squared his shoulders and tilted his chin.
My traitorous body perked up at the sight of him stripped to just his pants and his leg padding. All big and dangerous, hard and angry. I knew I shouldn’t want him, but I did. The desire was a reflex, much like my feelings for him. It simply was.
He walked toward me, elbowing Ramrod and Brick out of the way, his path straight and determined. His face was grim, he didn’t blink, just narrowed his eyes as he got nearer.
Nervously, I glanced at the door, wondering if I could slip past a few players and make it out before he got to me. But thinking about escape had been a mistake—as always, he was quick.
Just before he walked through me he stopped. He was breathing fast, though I knew he was super-fit and had recovered from the game so I wasn’t sure why he was out of breath, but there was no denying I felt a little short on oxygen, too.
“Hey,” I managed as the rest of the room faded, the noise, the people, the heat from other bodies. It was only Dustin that I could concentrate on. Just him, looming before me, taking over my world. Was he about to order me out? Tell me he didn’t want my drug anymore?
“Out there.” He jerked his head in the direction of the rink. “I kept thinking about what you’d said about secrets and not liking them.”
“You were supposed to be concentrating on the game,” I said, shifting from one foot to the other. My legs were weak, my spine a little juddery.
“I told you before. I can multitask.” His eyes flashed.
“Okay then.” I paused. “What were you thinking?”
“I’ve decided I don’t like them either. Secrets, that is.” He lowered his head until our noses touched. “Not one fucking bit.”
“Oh…I see.” What the hell was he doing?
“Do you see, really?”
“Yes.”
“So you’ll understand this then.”
His mouth hit down on mine. Not gently but firm and possessive. It was as if he was staking a claim, showing the world that he wanted me. His tongue was fast and strong, his breath washed over my cheek and he held my head in his hands, holding me firm and close. I couldn’t have gotten away if I’d wanted to.
I didn’t.
For a second I was shocked. Stunned that he’d broken our rules and let the team in on what we’d had going on. But then all sane thoughts left me and I opened up and let him kiss me into a daze. I hung on to his forearms and chased his tongue as the rest of the universe slipped from my consciousness.
“Dustin,” I managed when he came up for air. “But…?”
He grinned, a big wide smile that creased the corners of his eyes, stretched his damp lips and erased his somber expression of moments ago. “I can’t help it,” he said. “I’ve just gotta have you, be with you. You’ve got under my skin and…” He paused then lifted his head and scanned his gaze around the silent room. “I…”