The Bad Boy Hockey Collection: A Collection Of Single Daddy Romances

by Cass Kincaid

  Brody sets me down on the edge of his bed, a huge four-post bed with luxuriously soft blankets and the biggest, fluffiest pillows I’ve ever laid eyes on. Pillows that are also tossed onto the floor carelessly as he pushes me gently back into the mattress and begins to kiss me again, this time with more hunger, more fervor. I moan against his lips, letting our tongues tangle as I feel his fingers pull my sweater upward.

  “Corinne—”

  “Take it off,” I breathe out desperately. “Undress me, Brody.”

  Those words seem to do something to him, igniting the smoldering fire in his eyes into a blazing inferno. He pulls his body away from mine only long enough to tug me up into a sitting position, and I silently lift my arms to aid him in pulling the soft cashmere sweater from my upper body.

  “Damn,” he whispers, his eyes roaming down my newly revealed skin, taking in the matching slate gray bra, a dark contrast against my pale, creamy skin. “You’re so sexy, Corinne.”

  “Come here.” I match his low tone, not wanting to wake up Spencer, and reach my arms out for him. “My turn.”

  He steps between my knees, letting me graze my fingertips along the contours of his outer thighs over his jeans. Purposefully, I let my hands migrate around to his back, plucking the baby monitor from his back pocket and leaning sideways to place it on the nightstand, its speaker facing us. Without asking him for permission, I turn the dial on the top of it to increase the volume. If Spencer wakes, we’ll hear him, no matter what.

  When my eyes turn back to meet his, Brody’s gaze is hot and alight with lust. I thoroughly intended to undress him myself, peeling away the layers that barricade his muscular body from my own, but he dives forward, crashing his mouth onto mine, ridding me of my resolve with a crushing kiss that leaves me whimpering against his mouth as he pushes me back down onto the bed.

  Brody’s hands are everywhere. He greedily travels up and down the contours of my bare abdomen, exploring every inch of me, stopping only long enough to palm my breasts in his large hands, squeezing and thumbing my hardened nipples through the thin cups.

  I gasp as his fingers pinch slightly at the nub of one nipple. I’m not sure what sets him off—the sound I make or the sensation of my nipples through the fabric—but a low, desperate growl escapes his mouth and his hand disappears around to my back, seeking out the clasp of my bra. I arch upward, and the bra comes undone. He pulls it from my body and tosses it off the bed, letting his eyes scan my naked flesh once more.

  Another flash of sheer lust shines in his eyes, and I gasp at the intensity with which he descends on me, needing to be as close as possible, desperate to feel his body against mine.

  I’m aching just as much, and his animalistic gaze is doing little to calm me. With only my need and desire to guide me, I tug at his plaid shirt, pulling it roughly from his shoulders, followed soon after by his t-shirt. The sight of his chiseled abdomen and shoulders as he takes the clothing from me and tosses it to the floor makes a sharp gasp fall from my lips, and I can feel the clenching deep inside my core increasing with a new flood of desire.

  “Oh my God.” It’s my turn to stare up at him like he’s an exotic treat I’ve been craving for a lifetime. “Brody?”

  He stares down at me, his massive chest heaving with the weight of his agonizing desire. “Yeah?”

  My voice is hoarse as I stare up into his shadowed eyes. “I want you, too.”

  There’s nothing left to say, and obviously Brody agrees because he leans down again, claiming my mouth with his and putting an end to any other words falling from my tongue. I’m consumed by him, by the sheer power in his muscled body and the desperation in his kiss. By the way his body moves so familiarly against mine, and the way he holds me to him, not just claiming my body but also cherishing it.

  I reach between us to fumble with the fly of his jeans, popping the button and lowering the zipper. With furious, desperate movements, I push the coarse material down his hips, dragging his boxers down with it.

  “Please,” I plead, needing to rid the barriers between us. “Please, Brody.”

  Everything changes in that moment. Not just because he manages to get his jeans off, or because he pulls my gray panties down past my hips and tosses them on the floor, too. But because we both seem to lose ourselves. Completely.

  In a flurry of tangled limbs and possessive kisses, there’s not an inch of his body or mine that goes untouched. Each time his mouth nips at the sensitive flesh just below my ear, each time his fingers caress the sensitive, warm skin of my inner thigh, there are sharp gasps erupting from my throat. My back arches against his touch, and the sensation of his calloused fingertips as they play tentatively across the damp folds of my pussy is almost more than I can take.

  I can feel the hardness of his erection pressing against my thigh, pulsing and twitching, but Brody is insistent on bringing me closer and closer to the brink of release. I arch my hips against him, desperate for him to dip into the wetness of my core, to cause friction against my clit and ease the consuming mix of pleasure and pain that engulfs me.

  He pulls his mouth from mine, his eyes dark and glistening as he takes me in and searches my eyes. I’m not sure what he’s looking for until I feel the tip of one thick finger disappear inside me, and my head tilts back as every nerve ending in my body sends a storm of shocks and electricity coursing through my veins, burning me up from the inside out. A loud moan escapes my lips, every taut muscle in my body clenching decadently around his digit as he strokes me.

  “Oh, Corinne.” He leans forward, kissing my neck with feverish lips. “You feel incredible.”

  “Oh...oh God.” I can feel every muscle and tendon within my entire body buzzing with blatant desperation, constricting and pulsing just as harshly as the pulse I can hear in my own ears. “Brody...dear God, please...” My legs come up, clenching around his thighs, a silent plea for him to take me, to bury himself inside me and take away the incessant ache that rages painfully within me.

  Brody hears my words for what they truly are—I’m begging him to destroy me. Take my body, consume me whole, and leave me in shattered pieces. I can worry about those pieces later. Right now, I need him to shatter me utterly and completely, and that’s all I’m craving. All I can process.

  He painstakingly slowly withdraws his finger from within me, dragging out a guttural groan from my mouth as he does so. Then, he sits up, letting his long, rigid hardness jut out before him. He clamps one hand around himself and manages to retrieve a condom from the nightstand drawer with the other. He rolls it on, guiding the tip of his cock to my entrance, pushing just enough to elicit a whimper from me.

  When he doesn’t push himself inside immediately, I buck my hips upward, in silent askance. “Please,” I whisper to him, my lust-veiled eyes fixated on his.

  His jaw ticks visibly, and it occurs to me what’s happening—Brody is attempting to keep himself in control. But a second later when he plunges the entire length of his hardness into me, burying every inch into the deep depths of my core, it’s very, very clear that he’s lost the last shred of that control, and it’s replaced only by primal desire to own my body.

  He begins to move within me, at first slowly, letting every solid inch of his erection slide in and out of my slick channel, stroking my core with the deliberate slowness of a man who knows how to bring a woman to the peak of sexual bliss, then increasing his pace, thrusting his hips harder and faster to cause a furious friction that threatens to undo me. The throbbing of his cock tells me it’s threatening to undo him, too.

  I gasp each time I arch my back to meet his hips, slamming himself into me in rough, quick movements, and Brody grunts with the exertion, his hands positioned at either side of my head as he kisses me with the same feverish intensity he fucks me with.

  We are one, then, led by the rhythm we’ve found with each other and the inferno of desire that blazes through us. Gone are the soft caresses of his fingers, and the tantalizing, methodic massage of his tong
ue against mine. We’re too far gone, now.

  Brody plunges inside me with the intensity of a man who’s lost his civility, left with only his primal instincts to guide him. And that’s fine, because every instinct within me is begging to come apart beneath him.

  “Brody...” I manage to whisper, gasping again at the pleasurable pain that rages through my entire body with each thrust.

  “Come.” His mouth is pressed against the edge of my ear, his breath hot and damp on my fevered skin. “Come for me, Corinne.”

  As if obeying his seductive command, every tightly strung muscle within my body clenches deliciously and my eyes squeeze shut as my body shatters completely with the tsunami of sensual sensation and euphoria that rips through me with the strength of a hundred wild horses.

  “Oh G—”

  Brody’s hand clamps over my mouth, stifling my cries. He doesn’t slow his rhythmic thrusts, and within seconds his cock goes from throbbing and pulsating within my tightly constricted walls to spilling himself inside me. His own growls of intense euphoria are met with his bottom lip being bit down on, and every chiseled muscle in his gorgeous body is tense as he tries his damnedest to hold in the sound that threatens to escape his throat.

  He finally slows his hips, rolling off of me with heavy breaths that make his chest heave. We both stare up at the ceiling, letting our breathing return to some semblance of normal in the looming silence. We both lay there, completely naked and completely spent.

  If I’m supposed to be embarrassed or suddenly modest, neither of those things occur to me. Mostly because I’m still so completely overwhelmed by everything that Brody is. He might be laying here beside me, exhausted and just as disheveled, but the man has managed not only to take over my entire body and make it sing like a choir, but he’s taken over even the deepest recesses of my mind. I’m possessed by him, utterly and completely.

  When I turn my head to face him, he’s already staring back at me with the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m assuming we should probably talk about this,” he smirks.

  My limbs are heavy as I turn onto my side to grin mischievously back at him. “We could,” I agree, reaching out and letting my fingertip trail slowly down his bare abdomen. “Or, we could—”

  A sudden wail breaks through the quietness of the room, making my spine rigid.

  Brody only sighs, however, then chuckles. “That’s my cue,” he says, pulling himself up into a sitting position.

  I mimic his actions, sitting up, my limbs heavy and my movements sluggish. “Looks like we’re making coffee and talking, Brody,” she grins, obviously amused.

  “I’m assuming I’ll never find out now what you were going to suggest?”

  My loud laughter bubbles up from within me, and I shake my head. “Saved by the crying baby,” I chuckle, standing to search out my clothes. “I’ll make coffee. You go get Spencer.”

  Chapter Ten

  Brody

  Spencer is quite content after his nap once I get him out of the crib, which is a relief. Mostly because I’m pretty damn content myself, and I’m not sure even the incessant wailing of my little boy could curb the crooked smile I can’t seem to wipe off my face.

  Corinne has managed to find everything needed to set the coffeepot up to brew, and I’ve just gotten Spencer to chill out comfortably in his seat. He’s watching the two of us with wide eyes, like he somehow knows what’s going on and is eagerly awaiting whatever happens next.

  Funny, I’m feeling the same way.

  Corinne impresses me by pouring a cup of coffee and remembering that I add two sugars to it. She mixes in the sugar with a spoon and pushes the cup across the counter towards me. I’m surprised even further by the words that come from her mouth next.

  “You and Jackson never seemed close when we were growing up.” She stares at me from the other side of the kitchen island, and I can tell her thoughts are light years away.

  I’m not sure if that’s meant to be a question, but I respond anyway. “We weren’t, really,” I admit. “We still aren’t. He lives three hours away from here, and I rarely see him.”

  “I know,” she says quietly, and I assume she’s referring to knowing he doesn’t live in this city anymore. “But why?” she adds. “I mean, why weren’t you two ever close? You’re brothers. If I’d had a sibling, I’d like to think we’d be close.”

  I offer her a halfhearted grin. “We’d all love to think that, Corinne. But, I’ll be honest, he’s a jerk, and he always has been. I know what he did to you, and I know how he treats other people in general. I’ve got no time for guys like that, even if he is my brother.”

  She doesn’t blink, her eyes blazing into mine as she ponders my answer. “Did you know? I mean, before.” She sighs, frustrated by her own convoluted sentences, then tries again. “Did you know before I did that Jackson was cheating on me with my best friend?”

  It’s news to me that the chick he was screwing during his time with Corinne was her best friend, but I am trying my best not to dig up anymore negative thoughts than the ones that are obviously swirling about in her pretty little head. “I had no idea what happened until long after the fact, Corinne, I swear to you.”

  She’s nodding, but her gaze turns away from me. She doesn’t want sympathy; she just wants to know what to believe. And I’m pretty sure giving herself to me the way she just did has rocked her will to keep her defenses up against me.

  Good, because I have every intention of keeping those walls torn down. I want to see all of Corinne—the good, the bad, the ugly and the beautiful. Because it’s all beautiful when it’s the real Corinne.

  I round the island and tilt her chin up so she’s forced to look into my eyes. “I only found out because he admitted it in front of a couple of his buddies one night when I happened to be at my parents’ place. I didn’t talk about it with him, didn’t find out any other details, and I sure as hell never gave him the disgusting high-five he was obviously looking for. The guy is a totally idiot, Corinne,” I tell her honestly. “I know he hurt you and broke your heart, but if he couldn’t see what he had with you after all those years, he didn’t deserve you.” I lean down and give her a soft kiss on the lips, a silent confirmation of the words I’m saying. “Now, why in the world are we discussing this after the earth-shattering time we just had together?”

  I attempt to give her a crooked smile while letting my thumb caress over her chin and jaw. She smiles halfheartedly and sighs.

  “I guess I’m just ruminating about everything, and my mind seems to be circling around the past and present, especially because they’re so interconnected. You’re so interconnected.”

  She gives me a playful nudge, one that is obviously meant to make it sound like a joke, but I can tell from the haunted look in her eyes that Corinne is struggling with what we just did together. “You know what I’m going to say,” I whisper, never once looking away from her.

  “You’re going to ask if I regret it,” she says weakly. “Sleeping with you.”

  “Do you?”

  “No,” she confesses without hesitation. “I don’t regret it, Brody.”

  “Good, because that’s not what I was going to say.”

  “Oh.” A hint of redness creeps into her cheeks. “What then?”

  I lean down and kiss her again, reinforcing what I’m about to remind her of. “I’m not Jackson,” I whisper. “And I plan on spending a lot of time reminding you of that fact.”

  “You do?” Her voice sounds hoarse now, but she’s biting down on her bottom lip to suppress her amusement. “I think I’ll like that. Spending a lot of time with you, I mean.”

  “I don’t think you will,” I say, kissing her again. “I know it. Now, let me get you a coffee and see if I can remember how you take it. Because I’m going to need to know these things if you plan on keeping me around.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Corinne

  I believe Brody. About the fact that he had no idea about Jackson’s h
eartbreaking antics until well after the fact, and about his confidence that I’m going to like spending time with him more regularly.

  If the past few hours are any indication, the man is more right than he knows.

  I don’t know what possessed me to take the reins and kiss him first, especially in his son’s nursery. And I don’t know why it wasn’t until that moment, until I’d seen him in the hushed, tender moments with his sleeping son, that I realized how badly I wanted him. But that’s when my desire for him bubbled over, and the need to have his mouth on mine was a compulsion I couldn’t deny.

  Now that I’ve been with Brody, flesh on flesh with him buried inside me, there is no going back. It has been over two years since I bared myself to someone and gave everything I had to him, desiring him with every fiber of my being. And not only did Brody possess my body with the attentiveness and selflessness of a man who cares about me, he managed to overtake my mind, too. That in itself means more to me than I could ever put into words, because there was a time when I didn’t think that would ever be possible again. To give your body to someone is one thing—that comes down to primal instinct and physical lust—but to fall for a man who dominates your mind is another thing entirely.

  He’s exactly what I’ve been hoping for, exactly what I need. I just didn’t know it until now.

  Part of me wants to tell him exactly that as he drives me back to the arena parking lot to pick up my car. But I don’t, preferring to keep at least one part of myself hidden from him. Hell knows there’s been enough baring myself to him today. Better start taking it slow, or I’m going to wind up freaking myself out.

  Spencer babbles to himself sporadically in the backseat, and that, coupled with the warmth of Brody’s hand in mine, does something to me.

  This is how it could be, I think to myself. I could let someone in and share my life with them. Maybe even have a little family...

  I quickly force that thought into the back of my mind. I shouldn’t be thinking like that; it’ll only set me up for a world of hurt later if this doesn’t turn out the way I hope it will. If things aren’t nearly as great as I think they are. If he turns out to be just like...