by Amanda Cowen
“You can’t drive. Haven’t you been drinking?” I ask.
“I don’t drive. That’s what limo drivers are for, Mittens.”
Ten minutes later, I am sitting in the back of a limo, alone with Cash in complete silence. He hasn’t stopped staring at me, studying me with his eyes, while sipping on a tall glass of soda water and lime he poured himself from the bar.
As I tap out at text to Lyndsey, Cash leans over and says, “You know, you can pretend like you don’t like me, but I know that you do.” His lips brush my temple, and I feel his touch all the way to my toes.
“No, I don’t,” I insist, even though my body tingles and my heart beats violently in my chest.
“Liar.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
“Looks like you’re the one who likes me.” I try not to blush as I motion my head at the bulge pushing through his dress pants.
“Good eyes, Mittens.” Cash’s baby blues sparkle as he sits there, his thick, muscular legs spread.
“Typical,” I snort, taking my gaze away from his crotch.
“Typical what?” He drapes his arm behind me on the long leather seat. He’s not touching me, but I’m acutely aware his nearness.
I sit up straighter. “Typical hockey player. You guys are all the same.”
“How so?” His dimples deepen into his scruffy cheeks, but his eyes look hungry. He shoves his wavy honey hair out of his face and angles his body toward me.
I fiddle with my necklace, wishing I’d never started this conversation. “Come on, Cash. Have you forgotten who my father is? He’s warned me all my life about guys like you. You all think that because you’re ridiculously overpaid to skate around the ice bashing brains in that you’re somehow entitled to a different girl every night. Did it even occur to you that maybe I actually don’t want you.”
“So why do I make you so nervous?” He smiles smugly. “You’re messing with your necklace like it’s a cross you’re about to flash at a vampire.”
I shiver when his fingers brush my collarbone and slowly tug on the long silver chain. As he drags it upwards, the Atlas medallion pendant grazes along my breasts. I shiver more.
“That’s a nice necklace.” He twirls the disc between his fingers, studying it. “Did your boyfriend give it to you?”
“Fishing, Brooks? I don’t have a boyfriend. Not that it’s any of your business.” I snatch the necklace out if his hand and tuck the chain into my shirt. “And I don’t need a guy to buy me jewelry. I made it.”
“Really? It looked expensive.”
“Well, it’s not. I make jewelry in my spare time. It’s a hobby.” My pulse kicks into overdrive when he studies the spot where the necklace disappeared. I scoot away before he decides to reach for it again. “I make all kinds of things. Rings, bracelets, earrings…”
His eyes are on my face, studying me with what seems to be genuine interest. “Can you make me something?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Like what? Would you like to put in an order for one of your hussies?”
“You’re too suspicious, Mittens. Can’t you make men’s jewelry? Like a ring or something?”
“I am not putting a ring on your finger.”
He laughs, and I make the mistake of shifting my gaze downward to his lips. When the heated silence becomes too much to handle, I ask, “Don’t you have any hobbies, Brooks?”
He smiles. “Define hobbies.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Calculating the notches on your belt doesn’t count.”
He shakes his head in amusement. “Okay, well, if that doesn’t count, then I guess my hobby would be that I collect vinyl.”
“Like old records?”
He nods, inching his way closer. “Yeah, I love all kinds of music. And I would buy pretty much anything I could play on one of my mother’s old turn tables.” And before I can even comprehend what’s happening, he cradles the back of my neck in his strong hand, his eyes burning into mine. “What about you, Mittens? Tell me something else about you.”
I swallow hard. “Like what?”
Cash’s arousing smell surrounds me as he says against my lips. “Like what it’s going to take for me to have you?”
I shake my head. “Not going to happen, Brooks.”
“Why’s that?” He wraps his fingers in my curls, and a tiny sound escapes my lips. He brushes his thumb against my cheek. “You’re gorgeous and I want you. Isn’t that enough?”
“You think I’m gorgeous?” The quiver in my voice is undeniable. I fight not to melt in his arms.
Cash moves his hands down my sides and stops at my hips. “Come on, Mittens. You’re gorgeous and you know it.” He slips his fingers under the hem of my shirt, touching my bare back “I want you, Mittens. Bad.”
I shiver, feeling his strong warm hands continue to snake their way up my spine. Don’t give in! You will regret this in the morning. Clearing my throat, I wrap my five fingers around his tie, pulling him into my chest. “I’m not some puck bunny.”
His mouth is so close to mine; I can feel the heat from his breath. “Just because I invited you to the after-party and said you’re gorgeous, you think I’m treating you like a puck bunny?”
I laugh. “Yes. And the last thing I should have done was come to the party.”
Cash pauses, his hands cradling either side of my face. “Why? What’s the big deal?”
“Are you kidding? You and I both know what those parties are all about. I work for the Bruisers as the marketing coordinator, not the team escort.” Letting go of his tie, I shove him backward against the hard leather.
“Come on, Mittens, you don’t think I know that?”
“Then why did you invite me there? From what I saw there were more than enough women at that party fawning over you.”
He leans forward, touching my lips with his finger, silencing me. “Yeah, but, I don’t want those women. I want you.”
“I find that hard to believe.” I roll my eyes.
“What’s your deal, Quinn?” He grips my grin and brings my gaze in line with his. “Why are you so uptight?”
For a moment, the limo is silent and all I can hear is my heart beating loudly in my chest. And even though I barely know him, the way his eyes study me, tells me he can see right into the constant ache I have buried deep inside. But I will never admit anything out loud, because that would mean someone like Cash, a hot tempered bad boy with a terrible case of womanizing-syndrome would be the one to break me.
“I’ve had to grow up pretty fast,” I feel him wrap his free hand around my nape, brushing a ringlet of hair away from my eyes. “And if you must know, I’ve had a rough couple of weeks and a lot of people I refuse to disappoint. And as far as I am concerned, you’re a road block on my path to success.”
“Why? Because you can’t stop thinking about me?” he teases.
I roll my eyes. “There you go again with the ego.”
Cash’s hand roams slowly along my shoulder and grazes down my arm, his eyes glistening with a boyish charm. “Come on, Mittens, at least admit I’m growing on you.”
I chuckle. “Geez, you’re persistent.”
“What can I say? There is something about you I can’t seem to shake. Come to think of it…it might be your lack of manners.”
“Excuse me?” If anyone is lacking manners, it is Cash. Any guy who invites a girl to a party and then flirts with every other female except her is 100% lacking manners.
“You still haven’t thanked me for the cupcakes, and you haven’t even had the decency to tell me what kind of food you like so I know where to take you for dinner.”
I let out a low and amused chuckle. “Thank you for the extravagant cupcakes, but we are not going out for dinner, unless it’s for business.”
“Come on, Mittens.” He runs his thumb along my cheek.
The limo stops, and I glance out the window. My building is a sidewalk away, visible through the tinted glass. Within seconds, the driver opens the door. I
quickly scoot down along the seat, my behind, propped in Cash’s face as I graze my way past him.
He lets out a throaty growl. “You’re a fucking tease, you know that?”
I take one step backward onto the sidewalk, putting myself at a safe distance from his frustrated stare. “And you’re a man-whore, who needs a serious reality check. Once you get one, I’ll happily take you up on a business dinner. Until then, you’ll be dining alone.”
He loosens his tie, his blue eyes hooded with desire. “We had a deal, Mittens. I worked hard for those goals.”
I bite down on my bottom lip, before giving him one final smile. “I bet you did. Goodnight, Cash.”
Chapter 5
The following Friday, I wake up to the loudest wall banging I’ve ever heard, synchronized with euphoric moans of pleasure. Throwing off my covers, I find myself in front of Lyndsey’s bedroom door, hair a mess and teeth un-brushed in my flimsy pajama. Rapping my fist in three repetitive knocks causes a seizing silence. The door hinges creak, opening to reveal my freshly fucked sister. She is wearing a man’s button up shirt, glowing, illuminated by the sun filtering in through the window behind her. Her hair is wild, her lips are red and swollen and she looks guilty as all hell.
“Omigod, did we wake you?” Lyndsey gasps letting out a nervous giggle.
I glare at her. “Could you be any louder?”
“Do you honestly want me to answer that?” She quickly glances over her shoulder.
“No, please don’t.” I try to sneak a peek at the mystery man in her bed, but she blocks my view and steps into the hallway, closing the door behind her.
I narrow my eyes at her. “Who’s in there?”
Lyndsey bites her lip. “Louis.”
My eyes widen and I suppress a laugh. “What? I thought you guys were just friends?”
Lyndsey nods, bringing her voice to a near whisper. “Yeah, we are. Jesus, Quinn, haven’t you ever heard of the term friends with benefits?” She lets out a deep breath and chews on her bottom lip. “Maybe you should try it sometime. It beats the hell out of a relationship.”
“When sex is involved, there is no such thing as friends,” I say.
“Oh trust me, we’re friends…” She giggles. “He’s the best friend my vagina’s ever had.” She leans closer and whispers, “I’ve already had four orgasms, Quinn. Four!”
When I look up, Louis is leaning in the doorway, half naked, sporting only a pair of boxer briefs. His soft hazel eyes, crinkle around the edges when he smiles a warm seductive grin at Lyndsey’s backside. Noting my gaze, she turns, beaming back at him.
“Hey, Quinn,” Louis shoves his face forward and yawns. “Did we wake you?”
I nod, smiling. “Sure did.”
Louis blushes. “Err…sorry about that.” He glances from Lyndsey back to me. “Are you hungry? I can make you girls some breakfast.”
I shake my head. “No, thanks. I’m going to grab a bite on my way to work.”
Lyndsey smiles up at him, “I’d like breakfast.”
“Do you like pancakes?” he asks, flicking his blonde hair out of his eyes.
“Love them,” she grabs Louis by the arm, tugging him back into her room. “But I’m not done with you yet.” She bats her eyelashes at him, then turns and gives me a wave. “Bye, Quinn, have a good day at work.” She blows me a kiss before closing the door behind them.
When I arrive at the arena, I move quickly, heels clicking one after another, while I scarf down a blueberry muffin. I unclog myself from the elevator, round the corner, and catch a glimpse of the rink through the windows into the empty arena. I stop mid-step, mouth full of muffin hypnotized from the sight of Cash running the stairs, shirtless, with muscles bulging and sweat dripping from his brow. He is so focused, pounding up each step. I swallow my lump of muffin unable to pull my eyes away from Cash’s bare hulk of tattooed muscular mass.
I watch him hit the top step, bend over and take a drink from his water bottle. He doesn’t know I’m watching him, but when he stretches his groin, shifting from side to side to give me the perfect shot of his ass I swear he can feel my stare fixated on his backside. He straightens up and stretches his oblique’s, placing his big hands on his powerful hips, leaning from one side to the other. I blush, jaw on the floor, entranced by the piece of pure brawn glistening and flexing in front of my eyes. And when his stare suddenly shifts upward in my direction, it’s like he senses my arousal.
He cocks his head to the side, catching my greedy eyes gawking. He gives me a wink letting a huge self-assured smile touch his lips. Caught red handed and humiliated, I flinch backward, stumbling into something strong and hard. I spin around, a brown stain already blossoming on Theo’s chest. I gape up at him. “Omigod, I’ve ruined your shirt.”
As I’m apologizing over and over again, Theo uses his tie as a makeshift cloth, dabbing the stain. “No worries, Quinn, I’ve got an extra shirt in my office.” He winks. “You know, for emergencies like this.”
I start digging in my purse, pulling out some tissues. “Here, at least let me help you dry up.” Stepping closer to dab his shirt. Theo glances down at me, watching me pat his chest dry.
“It’s okay, Quinn,” he chuckles. “How about you buy me a coffee sometime and we’ll call it even.”
My gaze shifts upwards to a smiling Theo and his warm brown eyes staring back at me, framed by his dark thick lashes.
“Okay, what would you like me to get you? I can run down the street to Starbucks right now.” I fumble my way over to the garbage can to rid my hands of the wet and brown Kleenex.
Theo laughs. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll survive for today. But you owe me this afternoon.” He gives me a wink and walks down the hallway, disappearing into his office.
The rest of the day at work, my head is not in the game. I constantly update all the Bruisers social media sites, and organize Theo’s calendar, but I still feel like a jittery mess, letting Cash and his sexy body loop endlessly through my thoughts. With a stack of paperwork, a mile-high requiring Theo’s signature of approval for travel expenses for the Bruisers string of out of town games this month, I walk across the hall and into his office. I know I should be internally high fiving myself for my restraint against Cash’s lick able dimples and rock solid frame, but somewhere deep down inside, I can’t shake the magnetizing pull I feel towards him.
Registering that Theo is now speaking to me, I straighten up a bit, bringing him and his dark framed glasses into focus. “– the charter bus is booked. Also, please confirm with Coach Bartley that his corporate travel card hasn’t expired and that it is up to date.” I blink a few times, before Theo adds, “Oh, and your father wants to speak with you in the boardroom.”
“Sorry, what did you say?” I ask like an idiot.
“Your father. He flew in from Santa Anna this morning. He asked me to have you meet him in the boardroom.”
I swallow the nervous lodge in my throat. Why would he want to meet with me? Sure he travels back and forth from Santa Anna to Bexley on a regular basis, but why is he making our meeting so formal?
“Right now?”
Theo leans back in his chair and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Are you okay, Quinn? You’re acting a little off today.”
“I’m fine.”
I drop the papers that need signing in front of him, exit his office and walk down the hallway into the boardroom.
My father sits at the end of the boardroom table with his hands tented in front of him. His gray eyes study me with a disapproving glare as I slide in the empty seat next to him. Once I let out a steadying breath, he leans forward, all business and no smiles.
“We need to talk.”
He watches me with a frown. An unnerving sensation coils along my skin. I am not unfamiliar with his puckered brow and what it means. He is unhappy about something I’ve done. He is about to interrogate me. I hate the deafening silence building between us. What is going on? Did something terrible happen to Lyndsey?r />
“Something has come to my attention,” his voice is low and authoritative. “That’s why I’m here.”
My stomach drops.
“What did Lyndsey do this time?”
He shakes his head. “No Quinn, this time my concern is you.”
“Me?”
“It’s a week into your internship. I never thought I’d have to warn you. I thought you were smart enough to know better.” He pauses again, shifting uncomfortably in his chair as he mumbles under his breath. He gains his composure then looks back up at me. “You are a beautiful girl, just like your mother. And you may be blessed with her beauty, but you have my brains, my drive, and my ambition, which is exactly why I recommended you for this internship. You have a very bright future ahead of you…and I’m warning you… do not fuck it up over Cash Brooks.”
Feeling blindsided, I blink rapidly as he stares at me. “Dad, nothing is going on between us.”
“I hope not,” he taps his finger on the edge of the table. “I received a call last night from my Executive Assistant of Hockey Operations, who said she saw you leave the post-game party with Cash. What on earth were you doing there? You should know better than to mix business with pleasure. This is something I would have expected from Lyndsey, not you.”
I swallow, regretting ever going to that stupid game and showing up at that party. Smarten up Quinn! I silently scold myself. The last thing I need is to get fired, disappoint my father and have that mistake looming over my professional future.
“I’m only going to warn you once. Stay away from him.”
“How do you expect me to stay away from him? He’s a player on the Bruisers. Why would you recommended me for an internship with the Bruisers if you expected me to stay away from your star player?”
“I expected you to get to know him on a professional level. Not leave a post-game party with him outside of working hours.” he raises his voice and slams his fist on the table. I jump in my seat. “The last thing I need is my daughter flouncing around with Cash Brooks. He’s a disaster and the last thing you need in your life.”
“Dad – “
He cuts me off, “I’m telling you this, because I love you and I care about you and your future. You are perfect for this internship Quinn. Do not embarrass me. I wouldn’t want you compromising your position with the Bruisers because of him,” he says in a hard voice.