Here We Go

by Shannon Stacey

  But he was already here. She’d already had sex with the official family nemesis, so what harm could a little more sex do?

  “I think, when you’re done with your drink, we should go back in the bedroom and finish what we started.”

  He downed the last of the drink in three swallows and set the glass on the coaster. “I’m done.”

  Since she was naked under the robe and he was only wearing boxer briefs, they didn’t waste any time hitting the sheets. But the rush stopped there, apparently, because Will once again took his time lavishing his attention on pretty much every part of her body. At first, impatience distracted her—she really wanted his dick inside of her right now—but his mouth and hands were hard to resist and finally she let herself relax and revel in the feeling of being worshipped.

  But when he finally reached for the condom, she waited until he had it in his hand, and then she shoved at his shoulder and laughed as he rolled onto his back.

  “You in a hurry?”

  “You have other plans?” he responded as she straddled him.

  “As a matter of fact, I do.” And she set about seeing how patient he could be.

  She kissed his throat and his chest, swirling her tongue around his nipple before continuing down his body. His breath caught audibly when she reached the soft skin of his lower abdomen, and she grinned at him before sliding her palm up the length of his erection. His dick twitched against her hand, and she curled her fingers around it so she could close her mouth over the tip.

  He groaned, maybe cursed, as she sucked in his length. She gripped him with one hand while she splayed the other over his stomach, holding him still. His body trembled when she stopped to run her tongue from base to tip before taking him in her mouth again.

  It wasn’t long before he growled and, taking her under the armpits, hauled her up the bed. She laughed and rolled away from him, but he caught her and jerked her onto her knees, giving her a sharp slap on the ass.

  “Hey! Just in case you get carried away, my safe word is icing.” She turned her head so she could see him and laughed at the look he gave her. “Hey, it makes sense. Like you overshot my comfort zone.”

  “I don’t get carried away. Also, that’s a pretty strange safe word for a woman who hates hockey.”

  “It’s individualized, just for you. And it amuses me to think you’ll never play hockey again without remembering how it feels to fuck me.”

  His hand fisted in her hair, and he pulled her face close to his, arching her back so his mouth was near her ear. “I’ll be lucky if I can ever close my eyes again without remembering how it feels to fuck you.”

  Then she felt his hand brush against her clit before he drove into her from behind. She cried out and couldn’t stop the moan of pleasure when he pulled almost all the way out and then thrust again. His hand was still tangled in her hair and he pulled it, making her push hard against him.

  Her fingers dug into the sheet, and she would have buried her face in the pillow to muffle her cries, but he had her hair, exerting a constant pressure that increased almost to the point of pain when she dropped her head.

  Over and over he drove into her, deeper and faster, until she wasn’t sure she could take it anymore. And then he reached around and stroked her clit, and she might have screamed—she didn’t even care—when the pleasure blew her world apart.

  Her body was still shaking when Will let go of her hair and turned her onto her side, one leg caught between his and the other draped over his arm, pulled up toward her chest. Three hard thrusts and then he came with a guttural groan and pushed hard into her, his breath blowing in hard puffs across her heated skin.

  As his body started to go limp, he withdrew and sank to his side so she could untangle her legs from his. She heard a couple of tissues being pulled from the box, and then his body wrapped around hers. He kissed her hair and her neck and her shoulder—a dozen tiny kisses.

  “Holy shit,” she whispered.

  “Same,” he whispered back, still trying to catch his breath. Then he kissed her shoulder again. “You are one hell of a beautiful woman, Kristen Burke.”

  Even though she was pretty solid on the whole loving-her-curvy-body front, the words still made her smile because they weren’t just words. He looked at her like she was beautiful, and she could feel it in the way he touched her.

  She was glad she hadn’t sent him home when she found out who he was, because Will “Cross” Lecroix fucked even better than he played hockey, and the man was bound for the Hall of Fame.

  As her breathing slowed and muscles she knew were going to be the delicious kind of sore tomorrow relaxed, she snuggled deeper against him and closed her eyes. It was the opposite of what she should be doing, she thought. She should be getting up. Offering him a goodbye drink. But she liked the feel of his big, hard body spooning hers.

  She was going to get up and send him on his way…in just another minute.

  Will was almost asleep when he heard a sound that had him wide awake again. “Was that your front door?”

  Kristen lifted her head off his chest as a man’s voice called her name from the living room.

  “Oh shit.” She scrambled off the bed and pulled on her robe. “It’s Erik.”

  Oh shit indeed. “How did he get in?”

  “He’s my brother. Security doesn’t pay any attention to him, and he has a key.”

  “And he doesn’t knock?” They were both out of bed now, speaking barely above whispers.

  “He’s supposed to, but sometimes he forgets. He always texts me to tell me he’s coming over, but my phone is...shit, in my coat pocket probably.” She tied the knot in her robe’s sash with a quick yank. “Stay here.”

  “Kristen, are you here?” Just hearing Burke’s voice grated on his nerves.

  “Hold on,” she called before turning back to Will to hiss, “Do not leave this room.”

  They’d get out of this, Will thought as he pulled on his boxer briefs. Burke never had to know he was here.

  But as Kristen told her brother to maybe knock first because she had company and reached back to pull her bedroom door closed, the angles of her apartment betrayed them. Will snatched his shirt off the floor and stood just in time to get a glimpse of the living room in her bedroom mirror, where he looked Erik Burke’s reflection right in the eye.

  “What the fuck?” he heard as the door swept closed, breaking the unfortunate eye contact.

  “Erik, don’t!”

  Will heard Kristen, but there was no way she was going to keep Burke from coming through that door, so he tossed his shirt onto the bed. He wasn’t going to face the guy with his arms stuck half through the sleeves.

  Sure enough, over Kristen’s loud objections, Erik Burke opened the door and walked in. His face was red, his mouth was twisted in fury, and his hands were already balled into fists.

  Well, shit. This was going to hurt. “Look, man, I didn’t know Kristen was your sister when I met her.”

  “You fucking liar. I kicked your ass and put you out of the game, so…what? You go after my sister for payback, like a little bitch?”

  “Erik, he didn’t know. Neither of us did.”

  “Stay out of this, Kris.”

  “Stay out of it? You’re in my bedroom, dumbass.”

  “Let’s take this in the other room,” Will said, keeping his voice reasonable.

  “How about you just get the fuck out of here?”

  Will could hear Kristen’s voice explaining to her brother that she decided when her guests should leave, but his gaze was locked with Burke’s, and it wasn’t in his nature to back down. “Seems to me I’m the only guy here she actually invited in.”

  The blow landed just above Will’s jaw and even though he’d been braced for it, the pain still shook him. His fist was already in the air because it didn’t matter if it was on the ice or not, if Burke wanted to drop gloves, he was all in. But Kristen’s hand hit his chest, and he wasn’t sure if she was in the way or not, so
he had to drop his arm.

  Her other hand was on Burke’s chest and that’s who she was looking at. “Get out.”

  “Kris, you can’t—”

  “Get. Out.” She shoved at his chest, though she couldn’t actually move him. “I mean it, Erik. Go home right now.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Will said, because as far as he was concerned, they weren’t done yet.

  Kristen swung her gaze to him. “You’re staying here. You don’t even have pants on, for chrissake.”

  Neither man moved, and Burke glared at him over the top of Kristen’s head. “This is between us, Kris.”

  “Yeah, I know. Burke versus Lecroix or whatever. I don’t care. I want you to leave right now, and if you say a single word about this to Dad, you’re not coming back. I mean it, Erik. I will not speak to you again for a very long time.”

  This time she used both hands to shove at her brother’s chest, and he took a step back. Then he spun and walked into the living room, with Kristen on his heels. Will followed as far as the bedroom door because he knew seeing him leaning against the bedroom doorjamb in nothing but his boxer briefs would piss Burke off even more.

  “He’s using you, Kris. To get to me.” Even as he walked toward the front door, Burke wouldn’t give up.

  “I know it’s hard for you to believe and Dad would say otherwise, but not everything is about you,” Kristen said. “Goodnight, Erik.”

  “Goodnight,” Will couldn’t stop himself from adding, which earned him cold blue glares from both Burkes.

  “You can’t hide behind my sister forever. I’ll see you on the ice, bitch.” Burke pulled open the door but had to look back for a parting shot. “If you make it back.”

  Kristen winced when the door slammed behind her brother, and then she shot Will an annoyed look. “Did you really have to antagonize him?”

  “Yeah, I really did. Especially since you got in the way of him and me working it out our own way.”

  “And people wonder why I hate hockey.” She pulled out the freezer drawer and rummaged around, probably looking for a bottle of vodka. He had a strict one-drink limit, and he’d already had one tonight, but he could use a shot right now. “Overall, that went better than I expected it to, though.”

  He snorted and caught the bag of frozen vegetables she tossed to him. After grimacing at the package—now he knew who the one person that liked frozen Brussels sprouts was—he pressed it to his jaw. Yeah, that hurt. “You really think so?”

  “The police didn’t have to show up, and neither of you left in an ambulance, so yeah. It went better than I expected.”

  “You going to kiss my face and make it better?” he asked, hoping to move the conversation along and put Burke out of their minds.

  “Nope. You’re going to ice that for a few minutes, until I stop feeling guilty about it and I’m sure Erik’s gone, and then you’re going to get dressed and go home. I’ve had enough of hockey players for the night.”

  He couldn’t say he blamed her, but he was still disappointed he wouldn’t be waking up in her bed in the morning. Rather than push the issue, though, he respected her decision to end their night, and once the Brussels sprouts started thawing, he got dressed and let her walk him to her door.

  The robe was flirting with falling off her shoulder again, and he tugged it up with a sigh of regret. “Do I get a kiss goodnight?”

  “I guess one kiss goodbye won’t hurt.” Then she looked pointedly at the bruise developing on his jaw and smiled. “Not too much, anyway.”

  He’d caught the transition from kiss goodnight to kiss goodbye, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he cradled the side of her face and gave her a thorough kiss he hoped she would think about for many nights to come.

  Then he opened the door and stepped into the hall. “I’ll be in town for at least a couple more weeks. Maybe we’ll cross paths again.”

  “Maybe. But I wouldn’t count on it.”

  The last thing he saw before the door closed was that arched eyebrow and slightly naughty smile of hers, and he got hard all over again as he walked to the elevator.

  Maybe he wouldn’t see her again and maybe he would. But it had for damn sure been one hell of a night.

  4

  Will woke up with a dick that ached almost as much as the side of his face, thanks to a dream that was already fading from his consciousness, except for a lingering impression of Kristen’s mouth on his neck.

  At least his shoulder didn’t hurt.

  That wasn’t still true when, what felt like a million hours later, he finally walked out of the Skimmers’ rink. It wasn’t a problematic pain, but it let him know the morning of practice with the team, interspersed with check-ins with the team doctor and physical therapists, had been a lot. The Skimmers were going on the road for a couple of games, and he wouldn’t be joining them, since he wasn’t scheduled to play until after the break, so he had the afternoon to himself.

  He planned to spend it standing under a scalding shower until the hot water gave out.

  When he hit the street, a man who’d been leaning against a red sedan straightened, and Will recognized him as a sports reporter from Hometown Hoser, a very popular hockey blog and YouTube channel, despite the name. Or maybe because of it. “Cross!”

  “Hey, Joel. Doesn’t Boston have ordinances about loitering?”

  Joel laughed at his weak attempt at a joke then held up his phone to show his thumb hovering over the voice recorder button. “You got time for a couple of questions?”

  Time? Yes. The desire? Not so much. But it was part of the job and he had nothing to hide, so it would be standard. The shoulder was fine. Everything was fine. He was looking forward to rejoining the Harriers when his conditioning stint was over. “Sure.”

  “Is there any truth to the rumor you got that bruise on your face from Erik Burke after he found you in bed with his sister last night?”

  Will brain seized up like an old car engine, and all he could think was oh shit and the recorder’s running. Anything he said could and would be used against him in the court of the hockey fandom’s opinion.

  “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Let’s just say it was a source very close to the Burke family. Is it true Erik Burke interrupted your one-night stand with his sister by punching you in the face?”

  That asshole. Her own brother had run his mouth. He had to have because only three people knew, and only one of them was angry enough to make the situation sound so damn sordid.

  “That’s not accurate,” he said tersely, which wasn’t exactly a denial. He didn’t want to lie because he didn’t know if Joel had voice or video proof of Burke spilling his guts. But the actual details weren’t 100 percent accurate—he hadn’t found Will actually in Kristen’s bed—so he tried to walk that line.

  “Then what did happen? It’s pretty obvious somebody punched you in the face last night,” Joel pointed out. “What didn’t my source get right?”

  Standing there with a bruised jaw and faced with a story that was essentially the truth to explain it, Will thought fast.

  His mom had drilled a lot of life lessons into his head growing up, and she’d taken it up a notch as he prepared to go off to college as a top athletic prospect. Never disrespect a woman. And never, ever throw a woman’s reputation under the bus to make your life easier.

  I have a very conservative boss, and I’m up for a promotion. The last thing I need is to be caught in some one-night-stand sex scandal with one of the most hated athletes in the city.

  Will didn’t give a shit what was said about him—and he couldn’t do a damn thing about the circus surrounding him and Erik Burke—but he could do something to stop rumors of a one-night stand getting out there.

  “Kristen and I have been dating for…a while.”

  That threw the guy, but he rebounded quickly. “How does Erik Burke feel about you dating his sister?”

  Had this jerk not gotten a good enough look at his face? “I think
it’s safe to say he didn’t take the news well. But at the end of the day, it’s really none of his business.”

  The sportswriter arched an eyebrow and Will’s stomach sank. He was digging himself one hell of a hole here. “You don’t think his sister is his business?”

  “Of course she is. I just meant that she’s an adult and I doubt she runs her dating decisions past him.” He needed to get out of here. His rental car was only about fifty feet away, but Joel was following him.

  “How long have you been dating? When did you meet? Have you met her father yet? There’s been a lot of animosity toward you from Lamont Burke over the years. What does he think about you dating his daughter?”

  It was going from bad to worse. He hit the button to unlock his doors and tossed his hockey bag in the backseat before pulling open the front door. Then he looked at Joel over the roof. “Look, Kristen’s a very private person, and yeah, Burke got pissed and took a shot at me, but it’s behind us and there’s no story here. I’m asking you to just drop it.”

  But as he drove away and glanced in his rearview mirror, Will saw Joel typing something on his phone screen while practically jogging back to his car. There was a story there, and the reporter had no intention of dropping it.

  Shit. Kristen might not follow sports, but Hometown Hoser had enough of a following that somebody in her life was going to see it. Her brother and her dad definitely would. Or, worst case scenario, Joel would reach out to her directly for a comment. While she was working.

  Just the thought of her being ambushed with this at work made his stomach hurt.

  He shouldn’t have answered the damn question at all, but he’d been caught totally off guard. Even though the guy was an asshole, Cross would bet good money Burke wouldn’t have brought his sister’s name into the story, but somebody in his circle of friends must have run his mouth. And the team’s PR people had never given him a script for what to say if you were asked about a rival punching you in the face for having sex with a member of his family.