“I don’t know. I don’t go to a lot of parties. How ’bout you?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not really into it.”
They drive a bit farther. “What were you doing tonight?” she asks.
“I dropped by a teammate’s house but I wasn’t into the party so I left.”
Meghan notices that they’ve entered West Vancouver. Brie was right, he lives in a posh neighborhood. Her stomach knots, as she thinks about how far he had come to get her.
“You found Mike’s place okay?”
“It was easy.”
“You drove from your house, West Vancouver, to Vancouver, probably a twenty-minute drive, to get me?”
“Should I have let you cab it home?”
His eyes are full of warmth, making Meghan like Jared even more. Why? she wants to ask him. Why does he care how she gets home?
“Thank you for picking me up. I don’t know how long I could have stayed there for.”
“Are they your friends?”
“Some of them.”
They pull up to a driveway with a black iron gate that opens with the press of a button. The driveway winds to the house. Meghan’s eyes widen at the massive structure. What did she expect? It had to be an extraordinary house. “Beautiful place,” Meghan says as they drive into the garage. She looks through her side window. “You have other cars?”
“A couple.” He gets out of his car. The garage door is shutting and he leads her into the side door, shutting off his alarm when he enters.
Meghan can’t believe her eyes. The mudroom, if it’s even called that, is welcoming with a bench, built-in coatrack, and empty shelves. She takes a seat, unzips her boots, and places them to the side, along with her black socks. Her feet are hot and sweaty. It feels good to air them, even if Jared has heated tile floors. She can feel it as she walks through to the grand kitchen. Amazing. She’s only been in houses like this at lotto giveaways when they are raffling off dream houses.
The white cabinets and stainless steel appliances make for a clean appearance. It hardly looks lived in. There’s even a waterfall running off the island in the middle of the kitchen. She must look like she’s seeing fireworks for the first time because her eyes are dancing around the room.
“What can I get you to drink?” he asks, standing by his full-wall wine cooler. “I have beer in here too.”
“Wow,” is all she can say as her eyes look around the room.
“I also have soda and juice in the fridge.”
“What are you having?” she asks.
“A beer. Don’t make fun of me, but I drink light. I got a game tomorrow so I watch what I eat and drink.”
“Yeah, fair enough.” Her head is feeling clearer than it was at the party. “I’ll have a beer.”
“Okay.” He opens the cooler and hands her a can. “Do you want a glass?”
“No. This is fine. Thanks.” She cracks it open and watches him sip, taking note of his succulent lips. “Your house is gorgeous. I love the kitchen.” She takes in the glass cupboard without any dishes in it and uncluttered countertops. “Where do you hang out when you’re home? Do you have a man cave?” she asks, wanting to know more of the real Jared.
“When I’m at home I’m usually in the basement.”
“Sounds like a cave.”
He smiles. “It’s not. It’s my favorite place to be.”
“Show me.”
Jared leads her down the staircase to a wide-open room where he flicks on the lights.
Meghan doesn’t know where to look because there’s something in every part of the space. A sectional couch, cushiony chairs, pool table, just like she guessed, a full bar, foosball table, pinball machines, and, “An ice rink? You have an ice rink in your house?”
“Yeah, I use it to practice my shots.”
Meghan puts her hand on the red plastic railing. It looks just like a real rink except smaller. The ice isn’t real, it’s plastic. She stares at it and then looks around as though in a museum.
He looks at her and then chuckles.
“Those sticks must be special.” She points to the collection of hockey sticks hanging on the wall.
He nods and points. “That one there is from my first NHL game. And that one over there is the one I scored my first NHL goal with. That one there, is the one I used to score my first hat trick. . . .”
They both are looking at the wall.
“Have you ever played?” he asks.
“Hockey?” she asks, tilting her head.
“Sure.”
“Do I look like I play hockey?” she laughs.
“I don’t know. Jane used to play.”
“She did?”
“Oh, yeah. For years.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed.”
“Do you want to take some shots?” he asks, taking a stick down from the wall.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t.” She waves her hand to stop him. “I don’t know how.”
“I’m sure you do.” He hands her his stick.
“I wouldn’t want to break it.”
He laughs. “You won’t be able to break it.”
“I could put a chip in it,” she says, faltering.
“It’s aluminum.”
“Put a dent in it then?”
“Come on,” he says, opening the door to the rink and stepping on the artificial surface.
“Look at that!” she says. “It even has a center ice.”
“Here,” he says, handing it to her.
“I don’t know what to do,” she says. She can figure it out, but having a pro watching her moves makes her nervous.
“You can hold a hockey stick.” He puts it in her hand. “Like this.” He moves her body gently and comes behind her, pressed up against her. She can feel the strength of his muscles under his shirt. His biceps are evident through the fabric, giving her a little squeeze. She’s trying to focus on what she is doing, but his arms around her body envelop her so she can’t move. She doesn’t want to move. Her insides are like a loose circuit, all jittery. He takes her hands and wraps them around the stick. “Like this,” he says, putting his hands over hers. Jared moves the stick in a slow swinging motion. “Make sure your bottom hand stays a little loose. That’s the hand that will give you the direction you need.” He lets go and grabs a stick from the corner of the rink and slides her a puck. He takes one and they stand at the red line. “Do you want to shoot first?”
“No, you go,” she says, nervous.
Without coaxing, he takes a shot. Right into the hole of the practice board that is attached to the net.
“I won’t be able to do that.” She laughs, setting herself up on the line and taking a shot. She misses and the puck hits the boards. “Oops.”
“That’s okay. You did it.” He shoots again and gets it in the top hole.
She tries again and slaps the stick, missing the puck and almost falling. Her cheeks warm. She bites her bottom lip.
“Put some power into it.”
“I’m trying.”
“Here, let me show you again.” Jared comes behind her and wraps his arms around hers. His firmness keeps her still. He rests his head on hers so that they are both looking in the same direction. A brush of his lips against her hair makes her head all tingly and the feeling radiates down her arms. He swings the stick as though going to take a slap shot when there is a tearing sound. He stops in midair and looks at her. “What just happened?”
“My costume.” She looks under her right arm and there’s a big rip. She laughs hysterically. “Looks like I’ll have to pay for this one. I’ve got matching holes.” She puts up her other arm and reveals the broken zipper.
“I’m sorry,” he says, laughing.
“It’s fine. Really.” She shrugs it off. “I may be going home in rags when we’re through.” He smiles at her and she gushes with laughter. “I’ll try this again.”
Jared hands her the stick and places his hands over hers, just like before. “Ready? Top corn
er,” he calls, and pulls back the hockey stick. He shoots and they get it right where he was aiming for.
“You’re pretty good,” she says, feeling him loosen his hand, but he hasn’t moved. His body is touching hers sending a glittery sensation down to her toes.
“Just pretty good?” His mouth is at her cheek.
It’s a thrill to feel his breath on her skin. If she turns around, their lips will touch. If she stands still and waits for him to move, she’s lost her opportunity.
“Well, you know,” she begins saying, and slowly turns around. The hockey stick falls to the ground, making a clunking sound. Their lips are a breath apart. Her eyes find his and there is a moment of desire that is so strong, she wonders what is happening between them.
He leans in to kiss her. It’s not just a kiss, it’s passionate and sincere. It makes her body surrender and fall into his waiting arms. He holds her tight, one hand against her back. She is kissing him with such pleasure, she wants more of him. She forgets about everything—what she’s wearing, why she’s there—and lets herself fall into his arms. It’s okay for this to happen. They are attracted to each other. What more do they need?
His lips coast her cheek and down to the nape of her neck. She throws her head back enjoying the unplanned moment. She has one hand on his bicep, the other on his chest.
As their kiss heats up, so do their bodies. She can feel it under her vinyl suit. She wants to see what’s underneath that shirt of his. She wants to touch him, feel him, and admire his form.
“Can I take this off?” he asks, running his hand all over her back, finding the zipper under her arm. He tries to unzip her, but it’s not coming apart. He can’t see what he’s doing because his lips are on hers. Finally, he breaks away from her and looks at what he is doing. With one hard pull, the zipper loosens, ripping the material as the outfit comes undone. “Looks like I need to pay for this.” He unwraps the costume over her shoulders and pulls off the arms, revealing her pushed up cleavage in a silky bra. He begins kissing her neck, running his fingers behind her ear. She whispers his name and suddenly, with one breezy lift, he scoops her up and carries her to the long sectional. She is sitting up, her head against the pillow, and Jared falls to his knees and slides off her bottoms like peeling back wallpaper. He begins kissing her legs.
She watches him slowly make his way to her stomach. As he gets closer, her mind is racing that she is in his house, practically naked and wanting him badly. Will she regret this tomorrow? Maybe she’s had a bit too much to drink. Although she is feeling fine, a little giddy, but she’s sure Jared has something to do with that.
Meghan reaches for his shirt and with two hands she pulls it up. Jared helps her and lifts it over his head. She sucks in a breath, in awe of his body, and she runs her hands along his washboard feeling the ripples of every muscle. He comes up closer so that his lips meet hers. As they kiss, he unbuttons his jeans and kicks them off, revealing a fitted pair of boxers.
“Are you okay with this?” he asks, taking her bare foot in his hand.
She nods and blinks her eyes. More than okay. Her knees are weak, her legs melting. He massages her foot, watching her expression change. The sensation is felt behind her neck and down her arms.
“I can take you to my room,” he says. The deep kisses rattle her senses and the next thing she knows Jared’s hands are on her waist and he pulls her on top of him. As his lips come together with hers, she fingers his hair, wrapping his strands around them.
“I love your curls,” she whispers between breaths. It feels like silk.
Jared places his hand behind her head and massages her, making her eyes close and the sensation grows all over her body.
“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” he asks.
She looks him in the eye and nods. He slips her bra strap off her shoulder and kisses her skin, trailing his tongue to her nipple. She holds on to his curls, making her fingers tangled, pushing him back and bringing her lips to his. He is a good kisser. Everything about him is good.
It doesn’t take long before Jared takes off her panties and his boxers, edging toward her with excitement.
“Do you have protection?” she asks.
“Yeah. Yeah, I do. I got something.” He jumps up and fishes for his jean pockets, pulling out a condom wrapper. It takes him seconds to put it on and push himself inside her.
Meghan is on top of him, his hands on her lower back. She lets out a moan as he starts moving. He’s kissing her lips, her neck, her ear. It’s all happening so fast, but the timing is just right. She wants him so bad. She’s never wanted a guy as much as she wants Jared. The heat between them is like a summer night.
Jared rests his hands on her small waist, moving her with his body. He is looking at her with dreamy eyes while saying her name when the intensity rises. He whispers if she is okay and then kisses her on her wide-open mouth. Their bodies as one, lusting for each other, they move in rhythm until they both have satisfied their need.
As Meghan slides off him, Jared touches her arm and pulls her back into his chest. “Not so fast,” he says, wrapping his arm over her.
Meghan curls up at his side, resting her head on his bare shoulder. He traces her arm with his finger. She reflects on what she just did and if she’ll have any regrets in the morning. What does Jared think about her? She told herself she wouldn’t fall for him, not wanting him to break her heart, but she’s fearing she’s already liking him more than she imagined she would.
Jared props himself up to the side of her, looking into her eyes, and touches her chin. He gives her a surprise kiss. “What do you say we take a shower?”
She could do with one, but then the only clothes she has is the catsuit that she dreads putting back on.
“Come on,” he says, helping her up.
She grabs her bra and puts it on and then grabs her underwear from the floor. As she stands up, Jared extends his hand and wraps hers in his as though leading her to a secret getaway.
“This way.” He takes her up two flights of stairs to the bedrooms.
The whole way there, Meghan can’t quite believe her eyes. She is in the biggest house she’s ever been in and can’t remember which way they went to get to the master bedroom.
“I don’t have any clothes,” she says, stepping into his bedroom. It’s nothing she’s ever seen before. Naturally, a king-size bed, two dressers, and lots of space. The room could use a chaise and table to fill the open area.
“I’ve got something you can borrow,” he tells her, opening his bathroom door.
White marble floor throughout and the sinks have painted flowers in them. The shower is big enough for five people, not that there would be that many at once, but there are rain showerheads above and sprays everywhere along the tiled wall. Jared steps into the shower and turns on the tap. He touches some button and more water starts to spray out of the wall. He takes off his boxers and holds the door open for her.
She can’t stop gawking at his body.
“Aren’t you coming in?” he asks.
“Turn around,” she tells him.
“What? Why? What for?”
“I don’t want you to see me.” She unhooks her bra.
“I just saw you naked.”
“So.”
“I want to see you again. You’re beautiful!” He extends his hand for hers. “Come on!”
She throws her bra to the floor and slips off her underwear. She holds her arms across her chest for extra coverage and he closes the glass door behind her.
“Water hot enough?” he asks. “Soap is right there.”
She lets the water run off her and feels the weight of the spray on her back. The warm water pulsates the back of her neck.
I can’t believe I’m having a shower with Jared.
There is so much space between them it feels almost private.
Meghan rinses her face and then her body.
“I can soap you up,” he says, taking the bar from her hands. He runs hi
s hands over her back and down her arms, stopping at her fingers. He then rubs her down in small, circular motion, holding her stare. He closes in on her and begins kissing her mouth. This is like a dream, she thinks, never imagining she would be at Jared’s house, this intimate with him. He must be used to stripping down in front of his teammates after a game and showering.
She feels his erection nudge at her thigh. She doesn’t have to ask him what he’s thinking because already the kissing is more intense and she lets herself go, into his arms and inviting him to play out the fantasy, or is it hers?
The warm water falls on her head. Jared lifts her up and she straddles him, wrapping her legs around his thighs.
She squeezes his arms.
“I won’t let you fall,” he says, kissing her mouth with intensity. The water is running off their bodies from every direction. What can be more satisfying than this? Meghan thinks, holding on to Jared’s muscular arms.
Jared turns the water off when they are finished and opens the door a crack to grab a towel. He hands it to her and she dries off and then wraps it around her body, tucking it in like a dress. As she steps out onto the mat, she sees her reflection in the mirror. Her hair sopping wet, she pushes it away from her face. The makeup has disappeared. The black eyeliner she used for whiskers is gone completely and a clear complexion with a smudge of liner under her eyes is all that’s left.
“You look really good,” he tells her as he steps out of the shower wearing the towel around his waist.
Admiringly, she stares at his body. This will be the last time she sees him in the flesh. Jared drops his towel and puts on a pair of boxer shorts.
Damn he is hot and she has to leave him. Brie’s not going to believe where she’s been and what she did.
“My costume is downstairs,” she says, reaching for her undergarments.
“I have something you can wear,” he says.
“I’m not wearing a jersey,” she teases, and follows him into his bedroom. She takes a seat on his bed and falls back, letting her head hit the pillow. He snickers as he digs in his top drawer. “Ah. This is comfortable.”
“This should work,” he says, pulling out a T-shirt.
She’s judging it. A little big but what are her options?
Practice Makes Perfect Page 12