He Has MVP: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Boston Brawlers Hockey Romance)

by Stephanie Queen

  “But you’re not insulted. Why not?” It’s a stupid question, bordering on deep, and stretching the intimacy meter. Why do I care, anyway? I do not. But I watch him, waiting for his answer, not even pouring another glass of wine. Possibly not even breathing.

  “Because I know you’re not serious. You know I’m not a liar or a poser.”

  “I do?” I do, but I’m not ready to admit that to him, possibly not to myself either.

  He nods.

  “You’re ridiculously confident, aren’t you? Does that come from being smart or from being a hockey star?”

  “Neither. It comes from being a chick magnet.”

  “Oh my God.” I can’t help the burst of laughter. I shouldn’t hoot and snort with such amusement, I should be outraged. But I’m not. Because I know he’s not serious.

  I reach out and smack his shin because his legs are stretched out near me as we sit across from each other on the plush rug. I’m leaning against an ottoman and he leans into the puppys’ massive bed, propped on an elbow, absently stroking Moe’s fur. My pussy gulps with thirst and I can sense an urgent protest coming on, so I search for a distraction.

  My hand has other ideas as I rest it on his solid shin, the soft bristle of his leg hair tickling my palm, taunting me to slide up higher, to—WTF? I lift my hand with scorched quickness and then pretend to push hair from my face, as if that had anything to do with my inexplicable jerky move.

  The slow smirk he levels at me, though predictable, does nothing to calm my nerves and I shift.

  “Don’t be afraid to touch me, Pink. I’m all yours. Take what you want.” His words are quiet, his voice deep with meaning and truth and a good measure of arousal. Not quite enough to match my own, I calculate, but unmistakable to my overwrought pussy.

  He sits still and controlled while I’m all squirmy excitable nerve endings. I clear my throat.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” I’m well aware that I’m the one being ridiculous, but I lift my chin and force a change to serious business.

  “I’m going to bed,” I say. Maybe it’s the wrong thing to say, but the words are out and I push myself to a stand. He stands with me, with all the grace of the ballerina I used to be. I feel clumsy and shaky, uncomfortable with the truth that my shakiness is due to him, not the wine.

  “Good idea,” he says, close to my ear, his body heat warming me, my skin tingling with his nearness, and my willpower to separate from him, to put any distance between us, too weak for the task.

  “I didn’t mean—” I say, not even having the willpower to lie about my body’s intentions as they win out over my sensible smart mind. Foolish me.

  But any reprimand I might have coming to myself evaporates when he touches me. A light touch on the small of my back, no force, nothing but that powerful animal magnetism that defines Aiden the Conqueror, the MVP of players. I’m lost—maybe even conquered. And I don’t care.

  We move to the bedroom as if on a cloud of lust until we open the door and step inside, the lantern I left earlier lighting our way. Before he closes the door behind us, the puppies, all three of them, chase us inside, scrambling through the door and leaping onto the bed, panting with sudden life from their naps an instant ago, the pick up in wind and rain must have disturbed them.

  He laughs at the same time as I groan, but I’m ladylike enough to keep the groan to myself.

  Chapter 5

  Aiden

  Puppies make excellent chaperones. Even as I sweep them off the bed, Pink complains, her bleeding heart showing through loud and clear.

  “Hey, be nice,” she says and scoops up her favorite little girl pup, Curly. Pink’s softness hits a spot inside me, weakens me.

  “If we don’t shove them to the floor, where do you suppose we’ll be sleeping?” I point out. The mood is lost as I watch her stroke the puppy in her arms, wistful and wishing for the same attention. But in truth, any disappointment is banked, because how can I complain if we sleep together in the same bed, even with all the puppies?

  She sits on the edge, peeking up at me over the puppy’s head. Her expression apologizes for something not her fault. Because of course that’s the kind of woman she is. Responsible even when she shouldn’t be.

  Pulling down my shorts—because no way I’m sleeping in my clothes—I watch her eyes widen in shock. My cock is at half-mast, but even so, it makes an impressive tent in my boxers.

  “What are you doing?” She rakes her eyes over me and I don’t miss the extra pause at my hard-on.

  “Undressing for bed. How about it, Pink? You going to lose the skirt and blouse or do you sleep buttoned up too?” I give her my best overly confident wise-ass grin.

  She narrows her eyes at me, puts aside Curly, who cuddles into the covers. The other pups jump back up onto the bed and I don’t bother shoving them off again. They’d turn it into an all-night game.

  “You sleep in boxers?” she asks. Wind rattles the windows and she shivers, but I know it’s not the cold that shakes her.

  “Relax. I came prepared to sleep with puppies. Ryan warned me.” I go to my duffel and pull out my flannel sleep pants. I don’t tell her I normally sleep naked.

  Taking a small bag with her, she shuts herself in the bathroom and I settle on the bed under the covers, managing to keep the puppies at the foot of the king-size bed—on her side. Waiting for her to emerge gives me time to regroup, cool off, and it’s a shame. But the night is long—hell, the weekend is long—and I have patience.

  I never had patience before with a woman. Never had to. Putting off the reward has never been a thing I’ve had to deal with. Now I savor it like a scintillating challenge unlike any other I’ve been up against.

  When Pink emerges, I’m treated to the sweetest polka-dot baby doll PJs, long shapely legs and lush untethered breasts showing clearly under the silky fabric. My dick swells back up to full manhood while I suck in one long intake of breath.

  “This is all I had with me. I didn’t know I . . .” She sweeps her hand over the bed, encompassing the pups and me, her eyes settling on the new and larger tent in my flannels. In the low light of the room I can still see the blush coloring her cheeks, or maybe it’s my imagination, which is currently running wild, I have to admit. I pat the bed next to me.

  “Come on in. I won’t bite. I can’t speak for Moe, Larry, and Curly though.”

  She rolls her eyes and my dick gets harder, bigger. This will be a long night. I give the pups a dirty look.

  “If I end up with blue balls tonight, it’ll be all your fault,” I say to the three innocent furry faces. They appear to be grinning back.

  Pink laughs and slides onto the bed next to me.

  “Just because we . . . flirted before, doesn’t mean anything is going to happen here tonight,” she says.

  “Of course not,” I agree because I like to be agreeable. “Puppies make excellent chaperones,” saying aloud what I was thinking earlier. She pulls the comforter up over us and turns to me. I can barely breathe with her closeness and it’s all I can do not to take my cock into my own hands—so to speak—and relieve myself of the tension.

  But I’m a glutton for punishment because I’m enjoying the tension, even as my jaw muscle tics at the warm expression on her soft, sleepy face.

  “You’re a good guy, Aiden.”

  My chest tightens. I don’t get that kind of compliment much, except maybe from my mother or Aunt Tilly. But from Pink, it feels like a whole other category of compliment, the kind that revs my heart, makes me soft on the inside and hard as diamonds where it counts. Fuck.

  What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? How the fuck am I supposed to sleep now?

  “Good enough to kiss good night?” I finally ask.

  She smiles and raises up on an elbow while I lie flat on my back watching her lean in, holding my breath like I’m a teenager waiting for my first kiss. Her lips feather against mine, soft and moist and lush, toying with me, pressing and nibbling, moving from one corner to t
he other of my mouth. I let her play, let her adorn me with affection while I soak it in, helpless.

  Because I’m falling, spiraling in my descent, flipping head over heels for this woman.

  I groan and clutch a fistful of her silky hair, pressing her close, opening my mouth to ravage hers. My other arm comes around her body, clamping onto her sweet ass, crushing her to me so that my dick is cradled by the vee in her thighs. She squirms and grinds against me, saying my name in a sensual moan against my mouth, her breathing ragged.

  The pent-up lust bursts from the bindings of my patience, goodwill, and reason. Holding her in two arms, I flip us over, fully prepared to take her all the way, for the full ride, when the puppies bark and yip, then jump on top of me as if it’s all a game and they have no intentions of being left out.

  “Fuck.” I shove Larry off my back, shielding Pink from the assault of their prancing paws and playful nips. “Get the hell off me. Off the bed.” I wave my arm, shoving the puppies aside.

  They of course, come back for more, fully engaged in the game now. Pink laughs.

  I look down at her, the candlelight flickering against the classic features of her pale face, soft and sensual in this aroused state, all stern seriousness gone. The tightness returns to my chest like she owns the vise that grips me, turning the screws. Because she does.

  I smile back at her in spite of that because I’m a fool and I don’t care. I’ve never been foolish over a woman before, but so far I like it. A lot.

  “I think it’s a losing battle,” she says.

  “Miss Obvious.”

  She laughs. I turn over onto my back and shove the dogs down to the foot of the bed on her side again where they belong, below her feet in the corner.

  “Stay.” I sit halfway up and speak sternly to the animals while I hear Pink snicker, mocking me. My gut tumbles like I’m a kid on a whirling amusement park ride. Fucking A. I am so gone.

  Lying back down next to her, I gather her into my side so that her head nestles against my shoulder and I can feel every part of me touching her somewhere.

  “I wish we weren’t wearing these fucking pajamas,” I whisper. She giggles. a giddy zap shoots through me, and I think I understand the whole concept of Cupid’s arrow.

  “Another time,” she says, her voice sleepy. Then I do something I’ve never done before to a woman I’ve been with, I kiss the top of her head. I want her, but I’m willing to wait because there’s so much promise.

  Quiet bliss permeates me, bringing on peace and sleep.

  No matter that there’s a storm raging outside.

  The next morning is clear with some sun, though there are clouds on the horizon and the wind is still strong. Maybe the storm is over and it’s turned out to sea. A good sign.

  It’s early. I can tell from where the sun peeks through on the horizon. Pink is still asleep, so I sneak out of bed to feed the pups in a blatant attempt to keep them busy and get some morning alone time with my girl. Because I’m thinking Pink is definitely my girl.

  Locking the door behind me, I slide back under the covers with her, stroking a hand down her side, into the dip of her waist and up over the curve of her hips and down her elegant thigh. She squirms and emits a delicious, boner-inducing sigh. I lean in and nuzzle the delicate skin of her neck, the fine hair tickling my nostrils, her scent intoxicating.

  Pink’s eyes flutter to life, opening up wide and staring straight at me. An initial smile fades as she looks around and then out the window.

  “Sunshine?” she says. Then she bolts upright, pushing me away. “The storm’s over.” Shoving the covers aside, she jumps from bed before I can stop her. She hurries to the desk and flips open her laptop without sitting in the chair.

  “What the hell, Pink? Where are your priorities, girl?”

  Staring at the screen and clacking the keyboard, she says, “Exactly where they need to be. With any luck the Internet is up again and I can get some work done.”

  She slams the computer shut. “Shit. It’s still down.” Spinning around in her chair, she says, “I wonder what’s going on with this storm. This radio silence is killing me. Since there’s a lull maybe it’s possible to get a ferry off the island.”

  “We can try that. You might need to dress, though.” I give her an appreciative smirk. She rolls her eyes.

  We dress and go to the kitchen to let the dogs outside and get something to eat.

  “How about if we pack up the car and take the dogs with us in case we can catch the ferry?”

  “Ryan and Chelsea won’t be back until Monday. My condo has a strict no dogs rule. Are you going to keep them with you? You live in a fancy building downtown. I bet they don’t allow dogs.” She scowls and I grin. “Now who’s the practical one?” She throws a dog biscuit at me.

  “Anyone ever tell you that you have a violent streak?” I ask.

  “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a brat?”

  “No. Pretty much ‘dickhead’ is the preferred label.”

  “It suits you.” She opens the refrigerator a crack to preserve the cold and pulls out the orange juice. It’s weird that I have mixed feelings about leaving the island. I need to get back to Boston as much as she does, but Monday night is soon enough for me.

  “Why do you want to leave so much when we’re having such a good time?”

  “Good time? Hah. We’re making the best of the situation, I’ll give you that. But we don’t even have hot coffee.” She smiles and pats my cheek as she rummages through the food choices in the cabinet. “Seriously, I have work to do and the Internet is down for who knows how long. That’s just unacceptable.”

  I let the puppies back inside. My stomach growls and I’m hungry, but more for her than food. She’s standing at the counter unwrapping a protein bar or some such shit as I move up behind her. Putting my hands on her hips, I relish the sweet heat and swell of her ass against my rising dick.

  “Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something,” I say into her ear.

  She snorts and turns in my arms, pushing me away. I try to hold onto my smile. I know she likes me, know she’s hot for me, but her refusal to give in to it is fucking disappointing.

  Hell. What’s the matter with me? I’m no quitter.

  “The universe is telling me to leave the island,” she says. “It’s telling you too. In a very loud voice.” She does a double take like she’s had a lightbulb moment. “You can take the dogs to your place. I know they allow pets.”

  “How the hell would you know that?”

  “Finn had a kitten. I know he did.”

  Her eyes gleam with excitement now as she grabs for the leashes. I don’t bother telling my building doesn’t allow dogs. I watch in fascination as she starts clipping them on even while the puppies are scarfing down some treats laced with medication I added to their dishes.

  “Watch out they don’t bite you for interrupting their meal.”

  She spins around, her face lit up in triumph like she’s just won the Cup.

  “Let’s go. Let’s pack up the car just in case we can get on the next boat out of here.” She moves to go by me and I grab her arm to slow her down.

  “Hold on there. I can’t believe I’m accusing you of this, but don’t you think you’re being a little impulsive? I never agreed to take the pups to my place.”

  She scowls and tugs her arm, but doesn’t move away from me. Fuck. Now I’m all aware of her and my dick notices her proximity and jumps for joy.

  “You can’t say no.” Her face loses the scowl, all the edge disappears, and I don’t know when I’ve seen her this vulnerable—or vulnerable at all. She licks her lips and I stare at the pink tongue and the glossy wetness of her lips. My dick reminds me how much I want her. Fuck.

  She says in a whispery voice, “Hell, Aiden, can’t you see I’m desperate here?”

  And just like that, she has me. I’ll do anything she asks. I’d swim back to Boston with her and the pups on my back to give her what she wants. Never
mind that I’ll probably get fined up the wazoo if the association manager ever discovers I have three puppies in my condo. But who cares when this woman needs me to do her this favor?

  “Okay. I can do it. Let’s go.”

  She throws herself into me, her arms wrapped around my neck, and kisses me—on the cheek—but hell, I’ll take it. My arms automatically go around her, pressing into the enticing curve of her waist. It takes an act of iron will not to slide my hands up her rib cage to capture her perfect pert breasts in my hands. Gritting my teeth, I step back before my will melts under her heat.

  We pack up the car with all our stuff—mostly hers—and the puppies and their gear in back. The road to the wharf is littered with random tree branches. I pull into a nearly empty lot at the island’s ferry services. It doesn’t look good, but I don’t say this because I know Pink needs to hold onto the hope of finding a way home.

  The wind whips up as we dash to the small office of the high-speed ferry. But before we get there, we see the bold red CLOSED sign on the door.

  “Shit.” Pink looks around, her brow furrowed.

  “Let’s check with the Steamship Authority office, because that one has to be open,” I say. “They’ll let us know when ferries will be running.”

  A smile splits her face as she grabs my arm and she runs, tugging me behind her, and I admire the view. It’s not far and we slow down to go inside, breathing a little heavy.

  The manager at the Steamship Authority tells us there will be no ferry service because this is a short lull. The storm isn’t far out and is swinging back around, joining with a storm cell coming in from the west. I’m no meteorologist, but it doesn’t sound good to me.

  “There’s a shelter at the high school if you have no power,” he says.

  “We’ll be fine where we are,” Pink says and I salute him. I recognize the appreciation as his eyes follow her walking out the door. I’m right behind her, but this time I catch up. Flinging an arm around her shoulder, I’m prepared to console her, but she’s ahead of me.