by Lily Harlem
“Hey, where you going?” Jackson said into my ear.
His hot breath journeyed down my neck and spine, and a fizz of pleasure shot through me.
“To sit down,” I said, catching my breath as his thick arms wound around my waist and he tugged me closer.
“I don’t think so. It’s traditional for the chief bridesmaid to dance with the best man.”
“Is it?” God, I felt so small in his arms, small and delicate yet protected by his strength and size.
“Yeah, and you know it.”
Suddenly he twirled me around and tugged me onto the dance floor. I stumbled slightly but he held me up and dragged me closer still.
“Jackson,” I gasped, pressing my palms onto his chest. He’d removed his suit jacket and the soft cotton of his pristine white shirt allowed me to feel the hot, hardness of his body beneath.
“What?” he asked, smiling.
“What are you doing?”
“Dancing, with you.”
“But...”
“But I’ve stalked you all day. Yeah, I’m sorry about that, couldn’t help it.”
“Stalk, yes, that’s the word.” Damn, he was right. He had stalked me. He’d been everywhere I’d turned, looked, sat and stood.
“I don’t think you’re complaining, though.” He lowered his head so that his lips were only a whisper from mine. “And I’m only returning the stalking favor.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well let’s just say you weren’t accidently outside the rink that afternoon. You were hoping to bump into me. Admit it.”
“It might not have been you I was waiting for,” I said, going for nonchalant but not with much confidence. Who was I kidding? It was only him, had only ever been him I looked out for at hockey games.
He grinned and I studied the way his top lip stretched and his cheeks balled. “But it was me, wasn’t it?”
I looked away.
He rested his hand on my cheek and turned me back to face him. “I’m not complaining though, baby. In fact, I’m glad you did.”
I pressed my lips together and spread my fingers out on his chest. What the hell was happening?
“We had an amazing time,” he went on, “as you put it earlier, fucking each other stupid.”
“Jackson.” I glanced left and right. “Shh...”
He smiled. “No one is interested in us, it’s all about the bride and groom today.”
I looked at Samantha, who had her head resting on Vadmir’s shoulder and her eyes closed. Vadmir was holding her as though he’d never let her go.
“They make a great couple,” Jackson said.
“Yes, the best.”
“Ah, well, I’d dispute that. We were the best that night, don’t you think? On our one and only night together the earth moved.”
I huffed. “That’s corny.”
“But you’re not denying it?”
A flutter of arousal tugged at my belly. “No. I can’t deny there were a few earthquakes.”
He grinned. “It was so hot, wasn’t it?”
My nipples tightened and I hoped they wouldn’t be visible through my satin dress. Damn. Of course they would be. “Yes, it was hot. It was also a one-night stand.”
“Says who?”
“Me.”
He poked out his tongue, swept it over his bottom lip and stared down at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “Wanna make it a two-night stand?”
“Yes.” The word popped out before my brain even had time to process the question.
He smiled, slow and sexily but also with more than a hint of predator. He’d made his catch, gone in for the kill and won.
I trembled. Not out of fear but out of anticipation. Now, this time, I knew exactly what this hockey player could do in the bedroom. His on-ice skills were nothing compared to his between-the-sheets talents. I was in for the ride of my life, for the second time.
“Shall we get out of here?” he asked.
“I think that would be sensible if we’re going to...” I paused and swallowed.
“Fuck?” he said.
“Yes, fuck.”
“Where are we going?” I asked as Jackson led me out the front of the hotel.
“You’ll see.” He’d grabbed his jacket as we’d left and slung it over his shoulder, his finger hooked in the label. He strode forward, all purpose and determination, his smart suit belying the feral needs I knew he had lurking beneath the surface. “But we can’t just leave.”
“Sure we can.”
“But...”
He stopped and turned. His face was serious, his eyes flashed. “No one will notice, I promise.”
“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 t
hinking 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
(Want to know more about Samantha and Vadmir’s romance? Don’t miss RUSSIAN HEAT )
RED-HOT TROUBLE
HOT ICE
By Lily Harlem
Chapter One
I would never have pictured myself at The Orlando Vipers’ home stadium on the Friday night before Christmas, but here I was standing in the front row, listening to the roar of the crowd, inhaling the scent of corn dogs, and wincing as bodies barged into the Plexi.
I suppressed a yawn. It had been a long day.
My twin, Benjamin, was a mad hockey fan and currently a rink-side medic for big games. Trouble was, he’d double-booked.
And not any old double-booking, he’d clashed his rota with his honeymoon.
Which was why I’d stepped into his shoes. He was lucky I could. I had the same medical degree as he had.
“Not long now, Dr. Delaney,” one of the coaches called to me. “Then you can go home.”
Damn it, had I really looked so bored?
“Thanks.” I glanced at the scoreboard. Five minutes left of play.
“And The Vipers are onto a winner here, if they can just hold it together,” the commentator in my earpiece shouted. “This has shades of last year’s Stanley Cup triumph. And there goes Phoenix, he’s on top form lately. He’s unstoppable. But here comes the defense. Can he get round it…no…but he’s spun it and passed. A beautiful side curve to Brick. This pair are unstoppable.” There was a pause. “And now to Nathan Walker; they don’t call him The Flash for nothing, he’s moving like the wind, and…it’s in!”