Enticing Enforcers: A Slapshot Novella

by Myers, Heather C.

  "Excuse you!" she exclaimed, still breathless, as she slapped his arm playfully.

  He didn't respond. Instead, he grabbed her hips and picked her up, placing her on the edge of the desk and spreading her thighs open. He ripped the sliver of underwear—which got another round of protest.

  "I'll buy you another pair," he insisted. This caused her to press her lips together, still frustrated but more willing to go with whatever he wanted. He knew she liked it when it got rough like this. He knew she liked losing control to someone like him.

  When the scraps of underwear fell to the ground, he got on his knees, pressed the lips of her mound open, and began to run his tongue along her nub. He let out a moan, his lips vibrating against her. God, her taste. It was something he could not help being addicted to. He needed it in his life. In fact, he never told her about the slight worry he felt at the prospect that he might one day be without her. It was sweet and satisfying, something he had yet to experience. He wanted it always.

  Her hand found his hair and tugged at the roots. Xander couldn't stop a smile from eclipsing his face if he tried. She was close. He continued to please her a little bit longer until her breath came out in large, rough bursts, and her grip on his tresses was so tight part of him worried he might actually pull some out. Instead of letting her finish, however, he pulled away from her at the last moment, pulled down his boxer-briefs, and shoved his cock into her.

  Her cry of protest turned into a gasp and she seemed to naturally adjust to their new positioning. He took her ankles into his hands, spreading her legs open more so he could get closer to her, deeper inside of her.

  When he felt her ankles hook around his waist, he released his grip and reached for her breasts. He knew how much pleasure she received when her nipples were given the right amount of attention, and he wanted to ensure he could build her up again, more quickly this time.

  It wasn't long before she was ready to shatter. Besides her breathing, her moaning, there was something about her body that tightened up. It wasn't something that could actually be seen, but he felt it, and it was enough to push him to the brink as well.

  "Don't stop," she gasped.

  "Never," he assured her.

  He kept going until she began to spasm against him, coaxing his own orgasm out of him simultaneously. He moved his hands back to her waist and held tightly in order to give himself balance and to let him release all he could inside of her.

  When they both finished, he picked her up from the desk and placed her gently on her bed.

  Their bed, for the time being.

  He crawled in next to her, threw one arm around her waist, and almost instantly fell asleep.

  Chapter 6

  Pounding on the door in the middle of the night pierced through Isa's dreams. Her heart leapt in her throat and she nearly fell off the bed. A steady hand held her hip, offering a gentle squeeze. Immediately, any concern dissipated. She forgot Xander had spent the night. For some reason, she was instantly calmed by him, like she knew, no matter what, he would keep her safe.

  "Who the fuck is pounding at your door just after two in the morning?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

  Isa knew. She gulped. Her throat was as dry as the desert and nothing Isa could do was helping.

  "Xander," she said as he tossed his T-shirt to her, silently telling her to put it on. He busied himself with his boxers before pulling up his jeans. "You know how I offered the idea of us pretending to be together because it would seriously help you out with your ex?"

  Xander brushed past her as she hopped on her feet, pulling on a fresh pair of boy shorts from the top drawer of her old dresser. She grabbed pajama pants, one leg falling out of her hamper, and shoved her feet in as quickly as she could muster before she followed him down the hall and into the living room.

  "Xander," she tried again, hoping he would look back at her. It didn't help that the pounding continued. She hoped Benjamin didn't wake up her neighbors. "The thing is, this arrangement between you and I, it's actually beneficial to me as well. I should have told you but I didn't, I didn't." She pressed her lips together, willing the words to come but they wouldn't. When she looked up at Xander, he was finally looking at her, his eyes cold, his jaw clenched.

  "We'll talk about it after I deal with this," he said.

  Before Isa could stop him, Xander opened the door—practically threw it off its hinges. "What the hell are you doing, banging on my goddamn door like this after two o'clock in the morning?" he demanded.

  Isa practically jumped as she positioned herself behind Xander—not because she thought she needed his protection. More like she wanted to be able to see over his rippling back and his broad shoulders and this was the only place she could do that successfully.

  "This isn't your door." Benjamin's familiar voice coiled around Isa and she felt her breath practically choke her. "Where the fuck is Isadora?"

  "It's none of your goddamn business," Xander informed him. "Now get the fuck out of here before I call the cops."

  From where she stood, Isa could see Benjamin blink once, as though this whole situation confused him. Clearly, he hadn't expected a strange man with no shirt on to answer Isa's door, but, quite frankly, Isa didn't care. All she cared about was getting Benjamin away from her. She had court in a couple of days in order to apply for the renewal of her restraining order, but that might not be as guaranteed as Isa had hoped. Now, she had pulled Xander into this mess. A selfish part of her was glad she had.

  "I'm sorry, who are you?" Benjamin asked, taking a step forward.

  Xander took a step toward Benjamin, almost as though he was daring Benjamin to try something, anything that would call for physical defense.

  "Again," Xander said. "None of your fucking business."

  "When it comes to Isa, it is my business," Benjamin said. "The fact that some strange man opens her door in the middle of the night—"

  "Funny," Xander interrupted. "That's exactly how I feel about you. I'm Isa's boyfriend. Whoever the fuck you are, you're irrelevant. And annoying. Stay the fuck away from Isa before I beat the shit out of you."

  "Boyfriend?"

  Before Benjamin could say anything else, Xander slammed the door in his face and locked it.

  Isa opened her mouth, still paralyzed in place, but Xander cut her off.

  "Couch," he spat. "Now."

  Isa cleared her throat. She always knew Xander was capable of that tone. She had heard him employ it when he was on the ice, when they were out and he encountered assholes, but she never expected him to use that tone on her. In fact, she hated that he was and she hated even more that she deserved it.

  She took a seat on the edge of the couch, her back rigid and flat. Her elbows rested on her knees, her wrists dangling between her legs. Her eyes were on Xander, watching as he paced up and down the living room, in front of the couch. She was suddenly glad her apartment was on the first floor. Xander wasn't stomping, per se, but he wasn't keeping his feet light, either.

  "I know it's not my business," he finally said, "but I would appreciate it if you would explain." He stopped pacing when he was directly in front of her and pressed his lips together, as though he wanted to keep any words from coming out of his mouth that he didn't want.

  "Sure." She placed her hands on her pajama pants and proceeded to rub her thighs. Through the thin material, she could feel how clammy they had gotten. "What do you want to know?"

  "Well, for starters, who was that guy?" Xander through his arms out as though he was frustrated that she didn't know what he expected from her. "Why was he here so early in the morning? Why did he want you? Who is this guy?"

  "My ex." She stopped rubbing her thighs as she looked down at her lap, her hair falling so it covered her profile. "My ex. He's a tennis player. I met him at the Espys years ago, when Chris took me. I, uh, I think it was his rookie year playing in the league and Chris asked me to be his plus one. He was an up-and-coming tennis star. Not the best, but pretty good.
"

  Xander shot his brow to his hairline, his forehead wrinkling, and his eyes wide. "I'm sorry," he said. "That guy was your ex? Then why was he so aggressive?"

  "Because he's my ex," Isa replied. "He wasn't pleased by the fact that we were no longer together." She shrugged her shoulder. "I have a restraining order against him.

  "You have a—what? A restraining order. What the fuck, Isa?" He ran his hand through his thick hair. "Jesus Christ."

  "I know." She took a breath. "I'm sorry, okay? I should have told you. I wasn't trying to keep anything from you. I just...I'm not exactly proud of this particular person from my past."

  "You think—you think I would judge you?" Without warning, Xander stepped closer to Isa and dropped to his knees. He grabbed her hands with his own. "Isa, you've met my ex. I thought she was bad. But for you to have a restraining order against this guy... Why didn't you tell me?"

  Isa bit her bottom lip. She shoved her hands under her thighs and looked away. It was difficult to breathe. Each inhale caused her chest to tighten and she had to clear her throat. She didn't like the feeling of guilt that sat in her stomach. She didn't like the burning shame that pinched her cheeks. And she didn't like the way her hands shook so badly, she had to shove them underneath her thighs and try to force the feeling to go away.

  "What happened?" Instead of holding onto her hands now, Xander was forced to hold onto her knees. "Isa, I would do anything for you. You're Christopher's sister—"

  That wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear. She stood up, forcing Xander to move backward and give her space. One hand went to run through her hair while the other played with the hemline of her shirt. She couldn't bring herself to look at Xander. Not yet. She hated this wretchedness that seemed to consume her. She hated even talking about Ben, even letting him have this much control over her.

  "You're probably one of my best friends."

  Isa stopped pacing and finally met Xander's eyes. She wasn't exactly sure what he saw in her eyes, but from what she could gather from his, they were sincere.

  "I am?" she asked, her voice quiet, as though she didn't want to dare to believe that was real.

  "Of course," he replied. He moved from the floor to the couch and spread his arms open, as though he wanted to emphasize his point. "Look, I have every guy on the team's back. Christopher and Peter are probably closest to me. I trust them more than anyone. But you fall into that same category, Isa. You aren't just..." He looked away and she could see by his hunched posture that he was suddenly uncomfortable with something. "You aren't just someone I have sex with, Isa."

  Isa knew what he meant, but there was something in his words, something she didn't particularly appreciate.

  "I'm just Christopher's sister."

  "You're more than that and you know it. What we have..." He pushed out a breath with his nose. "Look, I can't put into words what we have. It's difficult for me to explain. But you mean more to me than a lot of people. Than most. And knowing someone like Ben was in your life enrages me. Not because you made a poor choice, but that anyone would actually treat you that way. I want to protect you."

  "That's not what I need, Xander." Isa continued pacing.

  "Isn't it, though?" Xander's voice was tentative. "Isn't that why you suggested us pretending to be together? Me moving in? You know you could have just been honest with me. I would have done it. I would do anything for you."

  "Don't you get how ashamed I was?" A tear dropped down to her cheek, followed by another one, and then another. "Christopher doesn't even know what happened between Ben and me. You think I wanted you to know?"

  "What happened?" Xander repeated. "I can't help you if I don't know what to expect from the guy. I mean, did you think he was going to show up at your door in the middle of the night like this?"

  "Of course not."

  "Hey. I'm not trying to insinuate any of this is your fault." He reached out and grabbed Isa's hand, stopping her movements and pulling her closer to him. Slowly, he brought her hand to his mouth so his lips caressed her knuckles, his eyes looking up and locking with hers. "I am here to protect you from anyone. If you could help me do that, I would appreciate it."

  Isa took a breath. His eyes were so sincere, it was difficult for her to continue to stare in them. It was odd; she felt as though she didn't quite deserve the look he was giving her, like she didn't deserve the sincerity. Heaving a sigh, she took a seat next to Xander, keeping her hand in his. Her head found his shoulder and she leaned into him. She closed her eyes for just a moment, letting herself enjoy the warmth his closeness brought to her, and that bubble of safety wrapped itself around her once again. Her heart slowed down and that lump in her throat that made her feel like she couldn't breathe loosened its grip on her.

  "I thought I would never see him again," she admitted. Her voice sounded different, meek, so unlike her own. "He was on tour. I filed a restraining order. It was a few years ago while I was a freshman in college. I came out here to be closer to Christopher and he let me stay with him so I thought it was a win-win. I met Ben, a tennis player, a few years older at the time. Things were great until they weren't. Until they got bad." Her thumb went over the groves of his knuckles, back and forth. "After we broke up and the court served him, I thought I was done with him. But then, he came back because some tournament was here and the restraining order was expiring. I just...I didn't think." She shook her head. "It's been three years. I thought we were done." She took another deep breath. "But I was wrong."

  Chapter 7

  There was nothing Xander could really do at this point except hold Isa the rest of the night. He could feel her toss and turn and he hoped that his presence next to her would help soothe her. He couldn't let her see how absolutely furious he was. Not with her. Never with her. Just with the fact that she had to endure this on her own. To a degree, he was upset with Christopher. How could Christopher not know what was going on? And, even worse, if he did, then what?

  All Xander knew was that he intended to get this Ben asshole to stop harassing Isa in whatever way possible. If he had to beat the shit out of him in order to do that, so be it.

  He did not sleep at all that night. How could he? Part of him was waiting for Ben to come back. Maybe he was hoping Ben would come back. It would allow him the opportunity to finally be done with the guy, but there was no pounding on the door, no screaming in the hallway.

  That was almost worse.

  Isa slowly raised her arms over her head to stretch as she always did. When she opened her eyes, they immediately met Xander's. There was a small smile on her face, almost as if she seemed surprised by his presence.

  "You're still here," she said.

  "Of course," he said, reaching down and curling her hair behind her ear. "I'm not going to leave you, Isa. Especially not with Ben around."

  "I have to go to court today," she murmured, her lips curling downwards as though she just remembered.

  "I'll go with you."

  "No." She winced. He could tell she hadn't meant to snap, but that didn't make him feel any less startled. "Sorry, I know you have a game today. And this should be the last thing on your mind. I can go by myself. You have a morning skate. We can meet up for coffee in your usual place if you want, and I can let you know what happens."

  Xander didn't like it, but she was right. He did have a morning skate in less than two hours. He did have a game later in the evening. He shouldn't be focused on something that clearly wasn't hockey. But he didn't give a shit. This involved Isa, and if it involved Isa, it required his full attention.

  "Okay," he agreed.

  Isa nodded her head once, causing her hair to fall into her face. He grinned and pushed the invading locks over her shoulder. "We still have time before you leave," she said slowly, wiggling her eyebrows in a playful manner. "I think I know a way to pass the time and distract ourselves." She proceeded to climb on top of him until she sat down on his waist, straddling him.

  "Do you now?" he asked, looking
up at her in all of her beautiful glory.

  He could not help himself as he raised his hands and pulled off his T-shirt. After they had both gotten dressed to see who was at the door, neither of them thought to remove their clothing afterward. Now, he wished they had. He needed to bury himself inside of her, and while stripping clothes off of Isa was certainly fun, he did not want to waste any time.

  Before she knew what was happening, Xander managed to flip Isa so she was on her back. She gave a small squeal of surprising before bursting into a fit of giggles. Xander's heart swelled at the sound of it. Such a strange feeling, to have his heart affected in such a way by laughter, but he could not help it. Not when it came to Isa.

  In a matter of minutes, he removed her pants so she was completely naked. He traced the curves of her body with his hand, tainting her flesh with his callused palm. It was almost as though he was branding her, marking her as his own.

  Isa was never one to sit back and idly wait, either. She was just as enthusiastic as he was. Her hands were up, her fingers running over his abdomen. He liked the look of awe on her face every time she saw him without his shirt on. He liked the way she swallowed because her mouth would go dry and her eyes would linger even if she sometimes didn't want to. And when she was in bed with him, he loved the way she had to feel him every single time, almost as if to assure herself that he wasn't a dream.

  No one had ever made him feel so worthy before. No one had ever made him feel like he was the only person in the room—save for Isa. It was probably one of the reasons he loved being with her, because she was both sweet and seductive. Those eyes carried innocence to them while her smile was nothing short of devilish.

  When her fingers reached the waistband of the pajama pants, a pout marred her face and she looked up at him with those big eyes.

  "Please."