HOT ICE: Complete Sporting Romance Series

by Lily Harlem

  “But you’re the best man and I’m—”

  His mouth hit down on mine. Hard and fast. His tongue poked between my lips and he dragged me close. I whimpered and hung onto him. Shut my eyes and let myself be transported to the fun we’d had before. Damn, the man could kiss for the Olympics.

  “We won’t be long,” he said a little breathlessly. “Trust me.”

  Within minutes we were on the freeway. My head was spinning and my lips felt bruised. It was getting dark now, and light from the streetlamps slid an orange glow over my legs and short dress every few seconds.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “We’re here now. I told you it wasn’t far,” Jackson said, turning into a parking lot I recognized only too well.

  “The rink.”

  He turned off the ignition. “Yeah, I thought you’d like a private tour, being you’re a fan and all.”

  “Well yes, but—”

  “But you’re missing the wedding. I know, so am I but hey, when else can I guarantee to get it completely empty? No one is going to be here to disturb us, the entire team are partying a mile down the road.”

  “Disturb us?” What was he on about? Oh, God, he meant fuck here, didn’t he? Something about that thought both disturbed and thrilled me, and a thud of desire pulsated through my core. He grinned sinfully then leapt out of the car, scooted ’round and pulled me up to my feet. I stared at the colossal red rink.

  A huge Viper logo lit the front of the building but Jackson steered me to the rear, walking quickly and efficiently with his hand at the small of my back. We reached the doorway I’d loitered next to waiting for him.

  He paused. “Happy memories?” he asked.

  “It was hotter than it is now.”

  He tugged on his bottom lip and studied me. “Mmm, you better have this.” He wrapped his suit jacket around my shoulders. “That should keep the chill off when we get inside.” He opened the door and stepped into the darkness. “Come on.”

  I followed him and instantly cool air caressed my cheeks and slid down my legs. “Are we allowed in here at night?” I could smell him, on the jacket that was wrapped over me. A bluster of memories swooshed into my mind. His scent, it seemed, did that to me.

  “Can’t see why not? I work here.” He draped his arm over my shoulder and with the other held his iPhone flashlight. “This way.”

  We walked in silence through several back corridors. I tried to take it all in, this out-of-bounds area, and admired the photographs on the walls and the hockey paraphernalia in a large cabinet by a set of offices.

  “Tell me if you get too cold,” he said.

  I was too excited to feel cold. In fact, the chill was welcome. “Is the ice near?” I could smell it, the crisp, clean scent of a rink.

  “Yes...” He stopped and clicked several switches on the wall.

  “Wow!”

  We were at the entrance to the tunnel and I could see the huge expanse of white ahead.

  I walked forward, lured to it. “It’s amazing from here.”

  I scanned the empty stands, the dark press box and the huge black TV screen.

  “Yeah, it’s even more amazing when there’s an opposing team who are hell bent on getting the puck past me.”

  “Yes, I can imagine.”

  “However,” he said, taking my hand as we stepped onto the ice. “It’s pretty amazing having you here, too.”

  “You don’t have to say that.”

  “I don’t do anything I don’t want to do,” he said with a grin.

  I gripped his fingers as my foot slipped. “Argh!”

  “Whoa, I’ve got you,” he said, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me against the length of his body. “Steady now.”

  “Shit,” I muttered, “heels are not sensible on ice.”

  He glanced downward. “Fuck, no they’re not.”

  Suddenly I was up in the air, pressed against him.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, clutching his shoulders. “We’ll go over here, I forgot about your girly shoes.”

  He marched across the ice as though it was normal ground. It was so quiet I could hear his footsteps and his breaths. My pulse was drumming in my ears and the wedding suddenly felt a million miles away.

  “This should be better for you,” he said, depositing me on terra firma on the other side of the boards.

  “The penalty box?” I said with a grin. “What have I done wrong?”

  He climbed in next to me and gathered the lapels of his jacket in his fists, tugging me close. “Oh, baby, you’ve done lots of dirty, bad things and you know it.”

  His breath washed over me and a tremble went through my knees. The low timbre of his voice, echoing around the empty stadium and the desire burning in his eyes made my pussy clench and arousal burn deep in my belly.

  “With you,” I whispered onto his lips. “I’ve done my dirtiest, most sinful deeds with you.”

  He smiled. “So the sin bin is the perfect place.”

  “Perfect for both of us.”

  Suddenly I was in his arms and he was kissing me with a hunger that stole my breath.

  I pressed up close to him, wondering if I’d ever get close enough. Damn why were we still dressed and upright?

  “I want to fuck you again, here, now,” he said, spreading kisses over my cheek to my ear. “And then again later, all night.” He bit my lobe, not gently, enough to make me gasp. “And then the night after that, too.”

  “Yes,” I said, grabbing his butt, giving it a damn good grope. “Fuck yes, now and later. Works for me.”

  The Armani jacket fell to the dusty floor, forgotten, and Jackson steered me to the bench. The bench I’d seen countless Viper players cursing and complaining on as they’d cooled down from fouls and checks.

  He sat, breaking our kiss.

  “Lose this,” I said, stooping between his legs and fumbling with his belt. I was breathing fast, my chest heaving against the constraints of my tight bodice. I wanted his cock now.

  He was already on the case, undoing the buckle and sliding the strip of leather free.

  We both delved for the zipper of his pants, my hands trembling as impatience ate away at me.

  “Fuck, you’ve got me raring to go,” he said. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking of that night. It’s like you cast a spell on me.” He paused and looked up. “Have you any idea what you did to me?”

  I slid my hand into his pants and pulled his cock free. “Something like this?” I asked, massaging his shaft from root to tip and back down again.

  He groaned and dropped his head back. It landed on the wall with a soft bump. “Yeah, and more, much more.”

  I dropped to my knees. The floor was scratchy and gritty but I didn’t care. I was too caught up in the moment, too intent on getting up close and personal with Jackson’s cock again.

  I licked my lips, opened my mouth wide and took his glans onto my tongue.

  He jerked and slotted his hands into my hair. “Ah, baby, yeah, like that. Fuck.”

  I laved at his frenulum, loving the way he jerked and moaned with each swipe of my tongue.

  “Ah, that’s a wonderful sinful talent you have there,” he moaned. “But come up here. I want you.”

  I was reluctant to interrupt what I’d started but Jackson left me no choice as he gripped my arms and pulled me upward, onto his lap. “Straddle me,” he said, shoving his pants down and rolling on a condom, “Straddle me and sit on me like you did that night. You just about blew my mind what you did with your hips.”

  Damn, he remembered that orgasm with the same intensity I did. I’d thought my head was going to explode and my body remain stuck on a climax. We’d taken each other to extreme highs. Highs I’d never been to before or since.

  My dress was tight around my thighs and, in order to part my legs, I had to wriggle it higher. Jackson helped, tugging and pulling.

  “Don’t rip it,” I warned breathlessly. “I’ve got to go back
to the reception later.”

  “What reception?” his voice was almost a growl. “Get it out of the way. Now. Or it bites the dust.”

  Thankfully the delicate material bunched belt-like around my waist, giving me the freedom to straddle his cock.

  He cupped my breasts through my dress and planted a kiss on my throat. “You taste so good,” he said, licking up the column of my neck. “As good as I remember.”

  I reached downward, found his shaft and allowed the head of his cock to kiss my pussy. “Do you remember it feeling this good?” I asked, pressing my lips against his temple.

  “This is better,” he said, gripping my hips. “Because this is real, here and now and not a memory.”

  He eased me downward and I held my breath as my pussy struggled to accommodate his cock. His thickness stretched me in a way that made me greedy for more.

  “Ah, yeah, take me, like that, baby,” he said. “Fuck, yeah.”

  I sank to full depth. “Oh, Jackson...” I moaned, my head falling back. The sensation was overwhelming.

  He caught the base of my skull in his hand and pulled me close. “You’re so hot, so wet, so fucking perfect for me,” he murmured against my ear. “Now fuck me, like you did before. I want it, no, I need it.”

  Damn, and so did I. I began to grind my hips, working my clit against his hard body. The stiffness of his cock rubbed against my G-spot. “Yes, yes, yes...” I was fucking Jackson Price...again. I’d thought it a one-time only thing. That I’d been a rink bunny he wanted one night with, a night I was more than happy to give, yet here we were fucking again. And at the Viper’s rink, too.

  Excitement and lust was a potent combination of emotions and the pressure was building inside. I picked up the speed, my climax was rollercoastering toward me, like an unstoppable force I knew I would soon have to give into it.

  Jackson’s breaths were a storm in my ear. I’d have bruises on my hips in the morning but I didn’t care. This was all I wanted—fucking, raw and primal.

  “Ah, yeah, baby, come, fuck please come.” He gasped. “I can’t hold out much longer.”

  His words toppled me over the edge and as I bounced on his cock a wild, frantic orgasm raced through me. It started in my pelvis and rushed outward, dragging bliss over all of my nerves and blinding me with a mass of beautiful colors and sensations.

  “Yes, fuck, yes,” I shouted, the sound echoing around my head and the rink.

  “Argh!” he yelled, slamming me down and shoving his pelvis up. “Yes...”

  He came with me. His cock pumping and pulsing as he filled the condom.

  I found his mouth, cupped his cheeks and kissed him. Showing him with my lips and tongue just how amazing I thought he was, how well we fit together and how much I wanted him, still wanted him.

  He squeezed me close, so close it was hard to drag in oxygen. My pussy was spasming around his cock, my heart racing and my clit trembling.

  Finally, I slowed and then stilled, so that I was sitting on his cock and cradling his face.

  “You okay?” he whispered, brushing his lips over mine.

  “Yes, you?”

  “Never fucking better.” He grinned. “Gives new meaning to the word sin bin, though, doesn’t it? I’ll never be able to sit in here again without thinking of you.”

  “Good.” I smiled. “I like you thinking of me.”

  “Baby, you’ve got under my skin. I can’t think of anyone else but you, haven’t since that night.”

  “Really?” I wanted to believe him but found it hard to.

  “Yeah, you’ve ruined me for all others, so you might as well get used to the fact that it’s us now, Jackson and Harmony, making sweet, sweet music together.” He paused. “If you’ll have me, that is?”

  I glanced around the penalty box. My heart bursting with joy. “Well, only if it includes sinning?”

  “Oh yeah,” he said. “There’ll be a hell of a lot of sinning involved.”

  THE END

  Rookie Rules

  &

  Red-Hot Trouble

  HOT ICE Spin Off Short Stories.

  By Lily Harlem

  Rookie Rules & Red-Hot Trouble: text copyright © Lily Harlem 2018

  All Rights Reserved

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from Lily Harlem.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s written permission.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

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  Table of Contents

  Rookie Rules

  Red-Hot Trouble

  About HOT ICE

  About the Author

  Rookie Rules

  HOT ICE

  By Lily Harlem

  Chapter One

  “It’s perfect, stunning, but...hang on, there’s a crease.” I fluffed my best friend Samantha’s lacy white veil. I was more nervous than her. We’d been in a whirlwind of excitement planning this day for two months and now, suddenly, it was here.

  “I’m sure it’s fine, Harmony,” Samantha said, brushing her hand over the copious amounts of tulle that bushed out Cinderella-style from just above her hips.

  I pulled in a deep breath, stopped fussing and stepped back to admire her. Samantha was always beautiful, even when she’d just rolled out of bed, but today she was a vision of loveliness. Her masses of soft blonde hair were piled high and topped with a small silver tiara from Tiffany & Co. Her vintage veil had belonged to her husband-to- be’s Russian grandmother and hung over her face and down her back. Her dress was made to measure and designed by Carolina Herrera. She held a bunch of pale pink roses, each one with a Swarovski crystal in the center. The bouquet sparkled as she moved, as though stars from the night sky had fallen into it.

  “You look beautiful, darling,” her father said. “In fact, so beautiful I’m not convinced about all this giving-you- away business.”

  “Oh, Daddy,” she said, kissing his cheek. “You know I’ll always be your little girl.”

  He smiled and I could see love pouring from his eyes.

  “The music is playing,” Darya, my fellow bridesmaid said, her accent strong. “My brother will be anxious, Samantha, and he is not a patient man.”

  Samantha laughed. “Don’t I know it. Oh, hang on, wait a minute. Daddy, do you have that package I gave you earlier?”

  He tapped his breast pocket. “Yes.” He withdrew two small pink velvet envelopes.

  “Here,” Samantha said, passing one to me and one to Darya. “A little something from me to the two best bridesmaids in the world. I couldn’t have organized this wedding without the help of my best friend and my soon to be sister-in-law. You really are amazing and I love you both very much.”

  My eyes misted and I blinked rapidly, trying not to disturb my mascara. “You didn’t need to—”

  “Samantha—” Darya said.

  “Quick, open them or they’ll be playing the Bridal March twice,” Samantha interrupted.

  Hurriedly Darya and I unwrapped our presents. I held up a hair-thin silver necklace with a pale pink gemstone hanging from the center.

  “Oh, it’s beautiful,” I said.

  Darya said something in Russian that I didn’t understand.

  “Put them on,” Samantha said. “They’ll match your dresses.”

  We fiddled quickly then I touched the stone that sat just below the dip of my throat. She was right, they did go wonderfully with our short, fitted, baby-
pink dresses.

  “Are we all quite ready?” Samantha’s father said, looking at his watch and giving a mock frown. “I don’t want to upset a church full of brutish hockey players.”

  “I agree,” Samantha said, pulling in a deep breath and tilting her chin. “Let’s do this. I’m going to get married, right now.” She linked arms with her father, set down her shoulders and stepped forward.

  Darya and I exchanged a nervous smile and followed Samantha and her father. I took a deep breath. My stomach was rolling and my heart beating wildly. Normally it was the bride who was nervous, but I was walking on weak knees and my palms were damp as I held my small bunch of pink roses.

  It wasn’t because I was worried the wedding wouldn’t go to plan. Or that Samantha and hot-shot defenseman for the Orlando Vipers, Vadmir Arefyev, wouldn’t be eternally happy together. They would be, they were a perfect match. No, it was because he would be there, standing at the head of the altar right next to the groom. He’d be all big and gorgeous in an Armani suit that Darya and I had collected the week before. I wasn’t sure how I was going to cope with seeing him after all this time. Awkward just wasn’t a big enough word. Soul-achingly cringeworthy went somewhere near it.

  It had been several months since I’d captured the eye of Jackson Price, rookie goaltender for the Vipers. He’d given me an autograph, a seductive smile and then made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. I’d felt bad ditching Samantha, for a nanosecond, and then I’d had one of the best nights of my life.

  Jackson had taken me back to his place and we’d got straight down to business. We both knew what we wanted and boy, did we take it. He’d been like a stallion all night, endless stamina and a body that was made for being licked all over. And lick I had, and sucked and kissed and anything else he’d let me do which, as it turned out, was whatever I wanted.

  My cheeks heated at the memory as the piped organ music pulled me into the moment. Faces were turning our way accompanied by gasps and ohs of delight. Everyone was as wowed as me by Samantha’s bridal beauty.