by Skye Jordan
She smiled over her shoulder where she’d stopped behind one of the leather lounge chairs, her hands on the back. “Is that the age of your boys?”
It took him a second to figure out she meant the kids in the summer camp. “Mine are a couple years older. Just as rowdy.”
“Look at the goalies,” she said with a smile in her voice. “You can’t even see the kids behind all that equipment. How do they even move?” Tate was smiling, but figured it was a rhetorical question so he didn’t answer. Then she glanced over her shoulder a second before returning it to the ice. “What are the colored lines for? I can’t remember.”
“They split the rink into zones of play.” He wandered up behind her. “Between the goalie line and the blue line is either the attack zone or defense zone. Between the two blue lines is the neutral zone.”
She leaned back against him, without any concern over getting his sweat on her clean clothes. The woman was beyond low-maintenance. She was so easy to be around, the maintenance seemed to come in being without her. Warmth nudged his barriers down a little more and he slid his arms around her waist, flattening his hands low on her belly. Aching to slide them between her legs, and Olivia ran one hand over his forearm, closing her fingers around his wrist.
Which reminded Tate of that night, when he’d rolled her to her stomach, pushed into her from behind and worked his hand between her legs. He closed his eyes remembering the way her back had arched, the way she’d tilted her pelvis to take him balls deep. The way she’d tightened her hand on his wrist, loving the feel of his hand moving between her legs while she gripped the headboard with the other, bracing herself for his thrusts. Using it to push back to meet him.
Her laughter snapped him back, and he focused on the ice, where a gaggle of kids lay tangled in a heap on the ice.
“Oh my God,” she said, her hand stroking back up his arm. “They’re so cute. I’ll have to come watch you one day before I leave. I bet you’re great with them.”
His barriers slipped a little more. “Really?”
She looked over her shoulder. “Really what?”
“You want to come watch the kids?”
“I want to watch you with the kids, but yeah, I do. Is that okay? Do I need to tell you when I’m coming or can I just drop in?”
A strange icy-hot tingle swirled in his gut. “You can come anytime.”
She turned to face him. “What’s that funny look for?”
He shook his head. “I guess I just realized that no one’s ever been interested before. I’ve been running this camp for six years, and aside from my family or teammates, I can’t think of anyone who’s ever wanted to come watch.”
Her smile dropped. “Not even your wife?”
“Ex-wife,” he corrected, even though he knew Olivia was referring to her as his wife at the time she’d been his wife. The reference still sat wrong. “And no. I guess I never expected anyone to.”
“Tate—“ She broke off abruptly with a frustrated huff of air. “I can’t talk to you like this. You’re too damn tall.” With her hand fisted in his sweaty jersey, she used him for balance while she toed out of little half boots and climbed on the arm of a leather lounge.
“Jesus, Liv, be careful.” He was watching the chair to make sure it didn’t tip, until Olivia put her free hand to his face and guided his eyes to meet hers.
“All right. Listen to me now. Your ex was a selfish, angry, mean, unhappy person who didn’t know how good she had it. And she missed out on an amazing life with an amazing man.”
Tate stood there, staring into her beautiful blue eyes, speechless. Not only did he have no idea how to respond, he had no idea where that had come from.
“Promise me—right now—that all future women you date have to pass the hockey kids charity test. If they don’t want to come watch you with the kids…” She hitched her thumb over her shoulder. “They’re out.”
Tate laughed and reached for her waist.
“You think I’m kidding.” With her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her belly against his chest, she looked down at him. “I’m not. If a woman isn’t open enough to be involved in what you do, in who you are, then they don’t deserve you. You’re the prize in the deal. I think you forget that because your ex was—“ Anger flashed in her eyes, and she stopped suddenly. “Your ex had issues. But I’m reminding you right now, you are a prize. And coming from a woman who’s met a lot of men over the course of her life, I can guarantee I know a prize when I see one.”
Tate closed his eyes and pressed his face against her chest. He tightened his arms and just held her a long moment, lost in complex emotions.
When he pulled away, kissed her and then left her watching the kids, all he could think on his way to the locker room was, “Fucking France.”
7
Olivia stood behind the small bar in the lounge, her forearms pressed to the counter. With her chin resting in one hand, she used the other to tap the face of her phone to check the time.
And sighed. “So much for fifteen minutes.”
If Tate didn’t get in here soon, Olivia was going to freeze her tush off. The room wasn’t exactly cold, but the temperature from the rink seeped through the glass, so it wasn’t exactly warm either.
She shifted on her bare feet, straightened and pressed her hands against the edge of the bar, smiling at the joy and concentration on the kids faces.
The door to the lounge swung open. “God, I’m sorry,” Tate said, striding in wearing fresh jeans and tee, hair wet, a duffel on his shoulder. He stopped short and scanned the room. “Oliv—”
“Here,” she said, drawing his gaze. When his eyes landed on her, she gave him a finger wave.
“Oh, jeez, thought you left.” He started toward her distracted. “Glad you found the bar, I forgot to tell you there are drinks and water in the fridge. One of the trainers caught me and—”
His gaze finally stopped jumping around and focused. His dark eyes dropped from her face to her open blouse where she’d unbuttoned the front and left it open to show her lacy bra and lots of skin.
All his air whooshed out. His gaze jumped back to hers and his lips twitched with a smile before he scanned her open shirt again. “Did you change your mind about going home?”
The look in his eyes exposed just how hungry he was, and boosted Olivia’s need. There was definitely something about Tate. Something that pulled at her. Something that tied her insides in knots.
“Unfortunately,” she said. “I do have to go back to my mom’s. I have a lot to do for tomorrow and I never disappoint a client.”
The excitement in his eyes dimmed a little, but he nodded. “I respect that.”
Since he didn’t come around the bar to her as she’d hoped, Olivia eased back. Her shirt fell open a little more and Tate’s gaze slid downward.
“What the…” he murmured and took one step forward, planted his hands on the bar and leaned in, looking down. His eyes scanned her lower body, naked except for a pair of clinging lacy panties before he slammed them shut. “Holy. Shit.”
She laughed. “Welcome to the wild zone, Mr. Donovan.”
A look of desire flashed over his face before he dropped his forehead against the bar with a groaned, “Olivia.”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “I figured if the room had cameras they wouldn’t catch much behind here.”
He didn’t move. Just groaned again.
“Does the room have cameras?”
“No,” he breathed.
“In that case, get your sexy ass over here and warm me up.”
He exhaled heavily and lifted his head. The want flashing in his eyes struck heat between her legs. “Jesus Christ, you’re going to give me a heart attack.”
Her grin grew. “I don’t want to do that, but I would like to get your heart beating really, really fast.”
Tate pushed up and looked over his shoulder at the rink where kids and coaches sped across the ice.
“You’ve ne
ver had sex in a semi public place, have you?” she asked.
He returned his gaze to her. “Fuck no.”
She took his face between her hands and pulled him towered her for a kiss. She licked his lips, then into his mouth and curled her tongue around his. Pulling back, she found his dark eyes dazed and hungry.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for days,” she said. “I’m sleeping like shit, and I have to be coherent enough to function tomorrow if I’m going to pull off this party. Take one for the team, Tate. Go lock the door and get back here.”
Without a word he strode to the door, opened it a couple inches and looked down the hall. When he closed and locked it, a thrill shot through Olivia’s body. Anticipation launched her temperature. Excitement spiked her heart rate. And by the time he returned to her behind the bar, she jumped into his arms.
He caught her effortlessly, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. With one arm tight at her waist, one behind her head, he covered her mouth with his and the hunger between them swept her away from everything but him. Relief, hunger and need vibrated in his throat.
Both physical need and their location infused urgency into Olivia. She unclasped her hands from his neck and broke the kiss to reach for his pants. Tate’s mouth moved to her cheek, her jaw, her neck, shooting shivers over her skin.
“Baby,” he rasped, “you blow my mind.” Then his teeth bit into her shoulder. The sting made her gasp and shot lust between her legs. “Fuckin’ want you so bad.”
He lowered her butt to a stool she’d pulled behind the bar and he leaned back. While Olivia struggled to get his zipper down around his erection, Tate stroked and squeezed her breasts, pinched her nipples.
She finally got his pants undone when Tate released the clasp between her breasts and her bra fell away. He groaned, bent and covered one breast with his hot mouth.
Sensation crashed through her breast, sank into her chest, melted between her legs. Tate’s hand followed, his fingers sliding over the silk fabric of her panties in firm circles.
“Yes, yes, yes.” She found the rungs of the stool with her feet and lifted into his touch. “Oh yes.” All she could do was pull at his shirt and wind her fingers in his hair, his body was too far away to grab. She bent her head close to his. “Come here. Let me touch you. Need—”
He moved his mouth from her breast to her lips, cutting off her demands. Then he was stroking the other breast with one hand, while his opposite hand slipped beneath her panties and slid over her sex.
She gasped, broke the kiss and opened her eyes to his. Then his hand moved, Olivia’s eyes crossed and her head dropped back. Everything was happening so fast. She wanted to slow down and savor it, but knew they couldn’t.
Before she righted her head, Tate had her panties at her knees. Olivia pressed her hands to the cushion of the stool to balance as he swept them off her feet then parted her thighs to take his hips as soon as he rose. Instead of pushing his hips between her legs, he dragged them over his shoulders and covered her pussy with his hot mouth. His hot, hungry mouth.
“Oh… Fuck…” The pleasure was instant and intense. And Tate had to feel the time constraint too because he worked her hard and fast. Licking, sucking, rubbing, he whipped Olivia to the edge of orgasm so quickly it startled her. “Jesus Christ… Tate—”
Olivia grasped his head, gripping a handful of his hair as the climax ripped through her. Her muscles contracted and she curled toward him only to be hit with jolt after jolt of pleasure. She clenched her teeth against the urge to scream, stifling them into growls and whimpers. And when they finally released their grip, Olivia’s head swam.
“Fuck,” she whispered, trying to catch her breath as Tate pushed to his feet and tossed his wallet on the bar.
His expression was sharp and intense and his eyes were black. He darted a look toward the glass before searching for a condom. Olivia used his jeans to pull herself upright, moved his clothes out of the way and found a thick, hard cock waiting. But she’d barely licked her lips when Tate rolled on a condom.
She was still making a sound of disappointment in her throat when Tate wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her off the stool and turned her to face the glass.
“Kneel.” His husky order warmed her ear, but it wasn’t his breath that tingled down her neck, it was the hunger and demand in his voice. “I need to get deep.”
Olivia shivered. She shivered. A full body tremor of raw excitement.
She balanced her knees on the stool’s leather pad and pressed her hands to the edge of the bar. Tate’s big, warm hand stroked her skin from the back of her thigh to the middle of her back, pushing her shirt toward her shoulders. When she looked back at him, his dark gaze was eating up her body. Every intimate inch of her body.
“So fucking gorgeous,” he murmured, his hand continuing to sweep over her and create fresh heat. “Next time, we’re turning on all the lights and taking our time and I’m going to look at every inch of you.”
Next time?
A bubble of emotion swelled somewhere inside her and drifted toward the surface. But she had no idea what those emotions were.
Tate’s hands were everywhere now, stroking her belly, sliding down her back. He circled her waist, flattened his hands on her belly and moved upward. Over her ribs. Covering her breasts. He groaned and drew her back against him. His erection teased the crease of her ass and made her pussy clench. Tate pressed a path of open-mouthed kisses along her spine, sliding her shirt a little higher for each one.
Olivia couldn’t take it anymore. She reached behind her, found his erection and lifted her hips to nudge the head of his cock against her opening.
“Hungry for me?” Tate rasped in her ear.
“Starved.”
He sighed, the sound carrying a satisfied growl. Wrapping one arm low across her hips, he used the other to stroke her pussy and place himself. By the time he was ready to push inside her, Olivia’s mouth watered with anticipation.
Tate slipped a hand between her thighs, tightened his fingers near her knee and lifted her leg to the side. Slowly, slowly, slowly he opened her until she was completely vulnerable. Only then did he push inside. And he entered her just as slowly. Inch by exquisitely thick, burning inch until he filled her beyond capacity, making her breath stutter, her heart quiver.
There, he paused and Olivia lowered her head, letting it drop between her outstretched arms braced against the bar.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her shoulder and said, “Feel me, Olivia?”
She didn’t understand the question, just knew she wanted him to move. To rock his hips. To pull out and thrust home. To fuck her until she screamed.
He seemed to read her mind, drawing out of her so completely, she lifted her head to look over her shoulder. But before she ever got that far, Tate drove back in. All the way back in. Swift and hard.
The finish stole Olivia’s breath. The instant explosion of pleasure pushed a cry from her lips.
“This is all I’ve been able to think about,” Tate rasped at her ear. “Getting so deep inside you, the only thing you feel is me. The only thing you can think about is me.”
“Yes…” It came out in a whisper.
The arm around her waist loosened and his slipped his hand between her legs. Her sex clenched.
“Mmm, so soft.” He gently worked his fingers into her folds, until two fingers snuggled her clit.
He released her thigh, and the hand wedged between her legs rubbed her clit. Pleasure spilled in, and Olivia moaned, long and low.
He wrapped his free arm around her, cupping her breast.
“Tate.” She moaned his name, lifting her hips to push him deeper. But it also made other parts tug against his hand… “Oh, God…”
Tate thrust gently, a quiet move, but one that sang through her body. Each stroke grew longer, deeper and harder. Each stroke delivered a double jolt of ecstasy. And Tate seemed exquisitely talented at spacing his thrusts just far enou
gh apart to hold off Olivia’s orgasm until she was shaking and panting.
“Want to feel you come,” he murmured at her shoulder. “All around me.”
Thrust. Zing. Bang.
Olivia’s back arched, but she didn’t move because Tate was right there, a wall of muscle. “Yes, yes…”
“Mmm, Liv, feel so good.”
Stroke. Zing. Bang.
“Ah…” She jerked, shivered, but didn’t break. “Mmm…”
“So good right on the edge, isn’t it?” His voice was like whiskey, smooth, dark, suggestive, erotic, a little edgy. “Makes you want to just linger here.”
Thrust. Zing. Bang.
Olivia bucked, cried out, soaked in the pleasure flooding her pelvis and clenched her teeth against the white-hot lust. “Tate. Need it.”
“You need it, baby?”
“Yes.”
“Mmm.” He pulled out a little, pushed in a little, pulled out a little, pushed in a little. The lazy, scintillating, maddening rhythm made Olivia’s pussy relax and open and reach for him. Ache for him. And he knew it. He felt it. Because once the tension ebbed and she was breathing easier…
Thrust. Zing. Bang.
Stars sparkled behind her lids. “Fuck,” she bit out. “That’s so good.” She huffed air, shaking again. “Why is that so good?”
“Because it’s us,” he murmured and bit her earlobe. “Remember?”
She pulled an arm away from the bar to catch his head and kissed him. Licked into his mouth. Open fully to him, and rolled his tongue with hers. When he groaned she pulled back and whispered, “Give it to me.”
Even as he pulled out, he asked, “How bad do you want it?”
“Really bad.”
Thrust. Zing. Bang.
She squeezed her eyes as the pleasure ripped through her. “Ah!”
“How bad?”
Olivia fisted her hand in his hair. “Really bad.”
He thrust again.
Olivia whimpered. Tate swore, kissed her hard and hammered out strokes in quick succession.
Olivia rose and rose and rose… And finally flew. Before she broke, Tate covered her mouth to muffle her scream. Her brain went numb, her vision white, and her body flexed and twisted with ecstasy. Distantly, she felt Tate’s last few thrusts before he too found release. He turned his head and pressed his mouth to her hair, muffling his own deep sounds of pleasure.