Anticipation licked up her inner thighs and hijacked her heartbeat.
She felt his warm breath on her face and started trembling. The second his lips brushed against hers, it felt as if every cell in her body detonated, saturating her insides with pure molten need.
Something between a sigh and a groan rumbled in Viggo’s throat before he started kissing her, tilting his head to better take possession of her mouth. His lips were warm and soft in delicious contrast to the raspy scrape of his stubble. He tasted like chocolate and sin, and she was instantly addicted.
His hands clasped her face as he traced the seam of her lips with his tongue and licked at the corners of her mouth. She moaned, her breasts growing heavy and her nipples puckering against her bra.
Her hands flattened against the hard slab of his chest, then slid upward until her arms wrapped around his neck.
Suddenly his mouth was everywhere, as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to kiss her the most. Her senses reeled as he traced the shell of her ear with his tongue, then skated his lips over her jaw and down the curve of her throat. Her head fell back when he sealed his mouth over the base of her neck and sucked the frantically beating pulse.
It felt so insanely good that she whimpered his name, her fingers tangling in the warm, silky strands of his hair. He made a raspy growling noise before his mouth returned to hers, hot and grinding. Man, oh man, could he kiss. Holy fuck.
Before she could catch her breath, he shoved the room service cart out of the way and then pulled her onto his lap, hiking her skirt up so she could straddle him. When her ass landed on top of his erection, they both groaned. His dick was huge and so freaking hard she could feel it throbbing through his pants.
She shivered uncontrollably as he ran callused hands up her bare legs, his fingertips grazing the insides of her thighs. As she rubbed her aching breasts against his chest, he grabbed her ass, grinding her against his massive erection. She moaned into his mouth as slick moisture dampened her panties. Her pussy was pulsing and her clit was one big knot of intense need.
He cupped the back of her head with one hand and slanted his mouth, deepening the kiss as his tongue wound hotly around hers. Her breath came shallower and faster as blood pounded through her veins like an erotic drumbeat.
When his other palm slid up her side to cup her breast, her nipple beaded tighter. He made a guttural sound of appreciation, caressing the stiff peak while sucking her bottom lip into his mouth. He had her panting and gripping him by the hair as she sank deeper into the kiss, sensation upon sensation swamping every part of her.
“God. Scarlett.” His hot tongue plundered her mouth while his hips thrust against hers with slow rocking movements. The granite-hard length of his cock stroked her pussy through her underwear, driving her to the edge of desperation and insanity.
She moaned helplessly, her hips twisting and churning against him. Her panties were soaked and she ached to have him inside her, filling her up as she rode him. She was seconds away from ripping off his belt and taking what she wanted.
“Fuck,” he rasped, breaking the kiss to let them breathe. He was panting just as hard as she was, his big chest heaving beneath his shirt, his lips slick from hers.
He stared up into her face, his gray eyes dilated and stormy with raw hunger. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. Their bodies were doing more than enough talking.
She shivered as his palm slid down her back, curving around her ass and holding her in place. His other hand tightened on the back of her head, pulling her face back down to his.
Their eyes locked, lips parting.
And then he was kissing her again as if he was a drowning man and she was his very last breath.
“Oh shit,” a voice intruded.
Viggo and Scarlett broke apart, their heads whipping around to see who’d interrupted their makeout session.
The Rebels’ second-string right winger stood in the doorway of the lounge. He was flanked by two puck bunnies in skimpy bandage dresses. They were gaping at Scarlett as she straddled Viggo with her skirt bunched up around her hips.
“Uh, sorry, man,” Viggo’s teammate stammered nervously when he saw his ferocious scowl. “I didn’t know anyone was in here, I swear.”
“Get lost, Dubinski,” Viggo growled.
As Dubinski started backing out of the room, Scarlett blurted breathlessly, “Wait! It’s okay, we were just leaving.”
Viggo shot her a look, but she was already scrambling off his lap. Cheeks burning with embarrassment, she yanked her skirt down over her exposed thighs and jammed her feet into her flip-flops. Her lips felt warm, swollen and deliciously damp from his kisses.
The bunnies had gone from gaping incredulously at her to shooting jealous daggers.
Dubinski was grinning lasciviously.
Shifting their attention to Viggo, the bunnies started cooing and simpering flirtatiously. It was pretty obvious that he was the hockey stud they wanted to be with. Scarlett didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed by their attempt to steal him right from under her nose.
Viggo clearly wasn’t amused, judging by the death glare he was giving his teammate.
“We’ll, ah, come back later.” Dubinski practically had to drag the girls away.
Viggo scowled after them, then shoved two hands through his hair and blew out a frustrated breath. “Fuck.”
“We almost did.” Scarlett didn’t realize she’d muttered the words aloud until Viggo shot her a surprised look, then threw back his head with a husky shout of laughter.
Her face burned even hotter. Biting back a grin, she pushed her hair off her forehead and rose from the couch, grabbing her keycard off the end table. “We should get to bed.” Catching the suggestive gleam in his eyes, she added pointedly, “Separately.”
A low chuckle rumbled out of him. Then he heaved a resigned breath and reluctantly got to his feet, tugging his shirttails from his pants to cover the bulge of his erection. It didn’t really help. That monster couldn’t be contained.
As a fresh curl of arousal licked between Scarlett’s thighs, she dragged her gaze away and inhaled a shaky breath. It was going to be a long ass night.
“I’ll walk you back to your room,” Viggo offered.
“No, that’s okay,” she said quickly. “You’re already on your floor. No need to go out of your way to escort me upstairs.”
“I want to.”
“Really, Viggo. It’s okay. Besides,” she added wryly, “I don’t want to take a chance on my father seeing us together at this hour.”
Humor sparked in Viggo’s eyes. “At least let me walk you to the elevator.”
She didn’t argue.
They left the lounge and headed down the hallway together, their arms brushing, eyes meeting often. When they reached the elevator, Scarlett pressed the up button and then turned to face Viggo.
He reached out and captured a stray curl, twirling it between his fingers before tucking it behind her ear. “We’re still on for dinner when we get home.” Once again, it wasn’t a request. “What time does your flight leave today?”
“Not till five. Reid’s parents are taking us shopping and sightseeing. So I’ll be home pretty late.”
“Damn,” Viggo muttered.
“What?”
“I was hoping we could have dinner tonight.”
That surprised Scarlett. “So soon?”
“Not soon enough.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. Her tummy clenched and her clit pulsed.
When the elevator dinged, she was torn between relief and disappointment.
“Thanks for the late-night snacks,” she said as the doors slid open. “The chocolate croissant was delicious.”
His eyes glinted. “So were you.”
She blushed as another quiver of lust shot through her, curling her toes. Biting her lower lip, she backed into the elevator and punched the button for her floor without taking her eyes off Viggo.
He looked so sexy
standing there with his hair mussed, his shirt untucked from his pants, and his eyes heavy lidded and watchful.
Scarlett swallowed. “Goodnight, Viggo. Have a safe trip home.”
“You too, Scarlett,” he murmured.
They stared at each other until the elevator doors closed. Only then did she let out a slow breath, close her eyes and whisper, “Holy shit.”
Her pulse still hadn’t returned to normal when she reached her room and slipped inside, shutting the door behind her and leaning back against it.
She couldn’t believe she’d just made out with a guy she just met. What the hell was she thinking?
Like you don’t know, a secret voice taunted. How many times have you fantasized about kissing Viggo Sandström? How many times have you wondered what it would be like?
Scarlett looked dazedly around the room, then released a shaky little laugh and padded over to the bed.
She stripped down to her underwear, crawled between the covers and turned out the light. Folding one arm behind her head, she lay staring at the ceiling. Her whole body was still tingling from the aftereffects of Viggo’s electrifying kiss.
Slowly she reached up and traced her lips with her finger, remembering the way his mouth had felt against hers, the heat and pressure, the erotic slide of his tongue.
As her nipples tightened and the skin between her thighs grew slick, she closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath.
It was going to be a lonnng night.
Chapter 4
Viggo
She Keeps Me Up
* * *
Kissing scarlett left Viggo with the worst case of blue balls he’d ever had in his life.
As soon as he got back to his room, he headed straight to the bathroom to take a cold shower. Standing under the arctic spray with his eyes closed, he tortured himself by reliving the superhot kiss. He could still taste her soft lips, still feel the swell of her ass in his palms, still hear her breathy moans, still feel the lush heat of her body writhing against his.
As the cold water pounded over him, he wrapped slick fingers around his raging erection and started jacking off as images of Scarlett flashed across his mind. He imagined her leaning back against the shower wall, her leg hooked over his shoulder and her eyes closed in ecstasy as he buried his face between her thighs. He imagined her on her knees before him, his cock disappearing between her plump lips. He imagined her naked and sprawled beneath him, those silky brown legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into her. He imagined those sexy claws of hers raking his back as her hot pussy muscles clenched around him. And he imagined her throwing back her head and screaming his name, her voice hitting all sorts of toe-curling high notes.
He groaned raggedly as he came, spurting forcefully against the tiled wall.
The orgasm took the edge off, but he was still horny as fuck minutes later when he stepped out of the shower and slung a towel around his hips.
He’d had sex plenty of times, with too many women to count. But no woman had ever affected him the way Scarlett Warner did. He’d wanted her from the moment he set eyes on her at the engagement party. She’d been standing with her back to him, sipping from a glass of champagne while chatting with her cousin. He’d approached her from behind, admiring the smooth bare skin exposed by her backless pantsuit, the material clinging to her round ass and smokin’ hot curves. He was practically drooling as he got closer to her.
And then she’d turned around and…holy hell. She’d taken his breath away and stopped his damn heart.
She was even more beautiful than she looked in pictures. She had the most incredible eyes he’d ever seen, slanting pools of onyx rimmed with long black lashes. Her cheekbones were high and her pillowy lips were ripe for kissing. Her piercings only added to her total hotness.
As he’d stared at her, he was struck by an overwhelming feeling of déjà vu—a certainty that he’d met her somewhere before. But that was crazy. No way would he ever forget meeting a woman like her.
He’d watched her all night. He was mesmerized by the hypnotic pull of her face and her innately sensual moves on the dance floor, the way she raised her arms over her head and swayed her hips, losing herself in the music. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. When she danced with other guys, he’d felt insanely jealous. We’re talking she-belongs-to-me-so-get-your-fucking-hands-off-her jealous.
Now that he’d kissed her, now that he knew just how good she tasted and how right she felt in his arms, he wanted more. Had to have more.
He went to bed so fucking hard he hurt. He could have gone back to the party and picked a bunny—any bunny—to have sex with. It would have relieved some of his pent-up tension. But it would have been a total dick move, banging one woman to quench his thirst for another.
And he didn’t want anyone else. Nobody but Scarlett would do.
He tossed and turned all night thinking about her and that explosive kiss. No surprise that he woke up with an even bigger boner, which required another cold shower and more whacking off.
Instead of joining his teammates downstairs for breakfast, he ordered room service and ate alone while watching highlights from last night’s barn burner against the Red Wings. He’d scored two goals, and Reid had clinched the win by nabbing his three hundredth career goal in the final seconds of the game. They’d had a big night, but reliving the highlights did nothing to improve his mood.
He was still surly as fuck when he boarded the team bus two hours later. So when Reid showed up wearing the satisfied grin of a man who’d had his world rocked all night long, Viggo went from feeling surly to downright hostile. Which, of course, made him a selfish prick. Reid was his best friend. Why should he begrudge him his happiness just because he was suffering from the world’s most epic case of blue balls?
As Reid started down the aisle, the guys whistled and cheered and made loud kissing noises at him. Some wiseass started playing the “Wedding March” on his phone, which set off a chain of raucous laughter and jokes.
Reid took the teasing in stride, laughing and accepting backslapping congratulations as he made his way to the back of the bus and plopped into the seat beside Viggo.
“Yo.”
Viggo grunted a greeting.
Reid chuckled. “What’s your problem?”
“Nothing.”
“Sure about that? You sound like you had a rough night.”
“I didn’t,” Viggo muttered.
“That’s not what I heard,” Logan Brassard joked, popping up from his seat in front of them. He was grinning, dark brown eyes gleaming with mischief.
Reid hitched his chin at Logan. “What’d you hear?”
“Dubinski says he caught your boy making out with Nadia’s cousin last night.”
“Holy shit.” Reid’s incredulous gaze swung to Viggo. “You made out with Scarlett?”
“They got interrupted,” Logan said, grinning harder. “Judging by his pissed-off mood this morning, I’m guessing he had to settle for a self handy and a cold shower.”
Viggo flipped him the bird.
Logan just laughed, rubbing a tattooed hand over his buzz-cut black hair.
Reid grinned at Viggo. “So how’d you go from stalker-watching Scarlett—”
“I wasn’t stalker-watching her,” Viggo grumbled.
Logan snorted. “You’re kidding, right?”
Reid laughed. “Seriously, bro. You should have seen your face when she was dancing with Colt. I thought you were gonna kick his ass. He thought so, too. You had him so nervous he asked me if Scarlett was your woman.”
That gave Viggo a surge of satisfaction even as he grumbled, “He couldn’t have been that nervous. He danced with her three fucking times.”
Reid laughed. “True.”
Logan grinned, scratching the scruff on his jaw. “Can’t really say I blame you for acting all possessive and shit. Scarlett’s a total babe.” His eyes glinted. “If things don’t work out between you two, give her my number.”
Viggo scowled. “Fuck off, Brassard.”
Laughing, Logan turned around and dropped back into his seat.
As the team bus pulled away from the hotel, Reid took out his phone and sent off a text. From the shit-eating grin on his face, it was obvious that he was texting Nadia.
“Aww.” Viggo leaned over, pretending to read a made-up message in a syrupy falsetto. “Hi, honey boo. We’re heading to the airport. I’ll be thinking about you allll the way home. Kiss, kiss.”
Reid laughed. “Don’t be jealous.”
Viggo grinned crookedly. What could he say? The green-eyed monster was doing some serious jiu-jitsu all over his ass right now. No point denying it.
Reid responded to a text from Nadia and then tucked his phone away, still grinning from ear to ear. “We’re gonna check out some wedding venues tomorrow.”
“Yeah?” Viggo drawled humorously. “Sounds like fun.”
“I’m looking forward to it, actually. I hope we find the perfect spot.”
Viggo stared at Reid. The womanizing player he’d known for the past six years had been replaced by a lovesick sap he hardly recognized.
And now he was whistling. Whistling.
Viggo shook his head at him. “That good, huh?”
“Oh yeah.” Reid didn’t have to ask what he meant. “Damn good.”
Viggo couldn’t help smiling. “Lucky son of a bitch.”
Reid’s grin softened. “I know.”
Chuckling, Viggo turned to stare out the window as the bus rolled through the streets of Detroit. When an image of Scarlett’s face flashed in his mind, hunger heated his bloodstream. He couldn’t get their kiss out of his head. Several hours later, he could still feel her breath mingling with his, still feel her pulse pounding against his lips as he pressed his mouth to her neck, still feel her nipple pebbling against his palm—
“So…”
Viggo jerked away from the window to look at Reid. “What?”
“You finally got your introduction to Scarlett,” Reid said, his blue eyes glinting. “I’m guessing she was worth the wait.”
The Swede Page 5