Down to Puck (Buffalo Tempest Hockey Book 2)

by Sylvia Pierce

  If Henny was bothered by her obvious deflection, he didn’t show it. He only laughed, his smile making the skin around his eyes crinkle. “Remind me again why we didn’t take full advantage of that situation?”

  “Let’s just be glad we’re making up for lost time now.” She pressed another quick kiss to his mouth, then pointed at the door. “Airport. You. Go.”

  “To be continued,” he said with a wink. Then, “Listen, don’t worry about the pool table. I have a feeling things will start looking up again real soon.”

  Bex smiled, tucking her hair behind her ears. Things already are.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The following weekend, Bex headed to Big Laurie’s with a light step and an even lighter heart, more optimistic than she’d felt in months.

  The Tempest was on a hot streak, winning four of their last five games, and she and Henny had started a new post-game tradition Bex had coined “naughty naked nacho night.”

  Unless he was traveling, they spent their mornings together before his practices, catching up over coffee in their matching bison mugs, a gift that had amused Henny to no end.

  Business at the pub was picking up, too—after closing last Friday to deal with the water damage, they’d offered all-night happy hour specials for the rest of the weekend, and word-of-mouth had been fueling a small but steady surge of new patrons, keeping Bex and Fee on their toes even during the typically slow Monday to Wednesday shifts. If things kept going like this, soon Bex would be able to hire another waitress and cook.

  After seven months back in her hometown, she was finally hitting her stride. Henny had been right—things were looking up.

  So when she headed into the pub Friday morning to do the payroll and prep for a busy night ahead, the last thing she expected to find was another disaster.

  Oh, no. This can’t be happening again…

  “Fee?” Trying to cool her simmering panic, Bex picked her way through the entrance, stepping over an explosion of plastic sheeting, ropes, foam, and cardboard. Raising her voice to be heard over the sounds of Pat Benatar’s “Love is a Battlefield,” she shouted, “Please don’t tell me the pipes exploded again!”

  “Hey!” Fee ducked out from the kitchen, calm and happy. “No worries. I’m supervising them very closely. Especially that one in the Zeppelin tee. Do you see those forearms?”

  “You and your arm porn.” Relieved, Bex turned toward the pool room to check out the guys Fee was talking about. The bar didn’t technically open for five more hours. Still, she couldn’t complain. She’d take a few day-drinkers over another bathroom flood any day. “I saw the plastic and thought for sure I’d be walking into a river.”

  “Nope. Just the delivery guys, who I’d be very happy to walk into. Horizontally.”

  “Delivery?” They weren’t due for another liquor order until next week, and Bex hadn’t even put in the glassware order yet—the catalog was sitting on her desk, buried under all the other administrative stuff she needed to catch up on.

  She dropped her bag on the bar and headed into the pool table room for a closer look. Four men crowded around the center, not shooting pool as she’d initially thought, but… setting up? They grunted as they nudged what looked like a massive piece of furniture into the spot where her old table used to be.

  “Where’s my pool table?” she asked.

  Arm Porn turned around, smiling. “You the owner?”

  “Bex Canfield,” she said. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re just about done. Come check ‘er out if you’d like.”

  The guys yanked away the last of the plastic sheeting from the base and stepped aside, revealing a brand new table that made her old one look like something from a frat house garage sale. In all the bars and pubs she’d visited, all the places she’d scoped out for ideas and research on the competition, she’d never seen such a gorgeous pool table.

  It was a stunning piece, rich mahogany wood covered with deep burgundy felt that looked so much better than the green, classing up the room by a factor of a thousand. On the far wall, they’d mounted matching mahogany cue racks loaded with more than a dozen new cues and bridges, all different lengths. Scanning the room, she also spotted new racks, balls, felt brushes, and chalk.

  It was a setup fit for a pro tournament, and it must’ve cost a small fortune.

  “Everything look okay?” Arm Porn asked. The other guys had already begun cleaning up the mess of cardboard and foam. The old table was long gone. It may as well never have existed.

  “It’s… beautiful,” she said. “But I didn’t… where did it come from?”

  “Queen City Custom Billiards,” he said.

  “Who sent it?”

  “Can’t help you there, ma’am. Boss doesn’t tell us anything but where to deliver the goods.” He handed over a proof-of-delivery slip. Hers was the only name on the paperwork.

  “I take it you didn’t order it?” Fee asked, running her hands over the felt.

  “Nope.” Bex signed the paperwork, fishing out a few bills from her wallet to tip the guy. “But I’ll give you one guess who did.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Are you crazy?”

  “Um…” Henny stood in his doorway in a pair of basketball shorts and sneakers, a towel draped over his shoulder, ripped torso gleaming with sweat. “I’m gonna need a little more context here.”

  “It’s going to take me years to pay you back.” Clearly Bex had interrupted his workout, but she didn’t care. She pushed her way into the house, determined not to be distracted by the sight of him, all hot and sweaty and one stupid pair of shorts away from being naked. Her entire body shook, though from anger or lust, she couldn’t quite decide.

  “Ah. I see you got my present.” Henny shut the door, a dopey grin plastered across his face.

  Why does he have to be so infuriatingly sexy?

  “Call Queen City Big Balls and tell them to take it back,” she demanded.

  Henny laughed. He actually laughed. “Keyword, Bex. Present. There’s no taking it back.”

  “Flowers. Flowers are an appropriate gift, remember? Chocolate. A pair of earrings. A nice, hand-knitted scarf. Matching bison mugs. Not a pool table that cost more than everything else in that bar put together.”

  A bead of sweat tricked down his neck, his chest, his abs. Bex was T-minus three seconds from pouncing on him like a happy dog and licking him senseless, when he rudely patted himself with the towel, cutting off her view.

  “You said it yourself,” he said. “The place needs some upgrades.”

  “I also said I’d figure something out.” She poked his firm, hot chest. “Listen, Mr. Muscles. You can’t just swoop in and save the day whenever you—”

  “Wrong.” He grabbed her hand, pressed a kiss to her fingertip. “I can swoop in whenever and however I want. I swoop for you and you alone.”

  “I’m about five seconds away from swooping my… from the…” Bex sighed, snatching her hand out of his grip. “I have no idea where I was going with that.”

  “Let me help you.” Henny reached for her hand again, looping her arm around his neck, pulling her close. The hard press of his cock against her stomach made her weak with desire. “Take off your clothes.”

  Bex squirmed out of his enticing embrace, desperately trying to hold on to her anger. “Why did you do that? We were managing just fine with that old table.”

  Wisely, he didn’t respond.

  Bex sighed. Some part of her understood his need to take care of her, to do things for her that she couldn’t afford to do herself. Hadn’t she done the same thing for her ex? Picking up the check when he was short, paying their shared expenses while he was out of work, loaning him money?

  Yes. And in the end he’d taken her for all she was worth, financially and emotionally.

  It may not have been the same situation with Henny—not even close. But the whole money dynamic was another callback to the darkest days of Bex’s life, a big neon sign reminding
her that her bad decisions had caused a serious ripple effect, one that had left her dependent and ashamed in ways she couldn’t even begin to articulate.

  After feeling optimistic all week, Bex was filled with uncertainty again. Moving back here, working at her mother’s pub, spending time with her best friend… it was supposed to be stable. Familiar. Predictable.

  None of this stuff with Henny was supposed to happen. Not the extravagant gift. Not the sex. Not even the bison mugs, which currently mocked her from their honorary spot on Henny’s kitchen counter.

  Bex closed her eyes, all the old doubts rushing back in, squeezing her heart.

  “You wanna tell me what’s really going on here, Bex?” Henny crowded in close again, running his hands up and down her arms, soothing and warm.

  I’m scared that I can’t take care of myself, and I’m scared that I’m falling for you, and one day you’re going to realize you don’t want this….

  She opened her mouth, took a deep breath. But the only words that came out were, “You can’t just buy me a pool table. That’s a little crazy, even for you.”

  Henny was smiling again, the light in his eyes melting a little more of her resolve. “Don’t think of it as a pool table. Think of it as another flat surface for me to throw you down on and—”

  “Henny! Is everything about sex with you?”

  “No. It’s about sex with you.” He kissed her neck, inching his way up to her earlobe. “If you don’t like it, I’ll tell them to bring your old one back. It does have a special place in my heart.”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” she breathed, losing herself in the feel of his lips, his teeth, his tongue. “Just that it’s… Oh, God. That feels… It’s…”

  “What is it?” he teased, nipping her earlobe again. “I didn’t quite catch that last part.”

  “Totally inappropriate.” She finally managed to pull herself together, putting a hand on his chest and gently pushing him away.

  Why couldn’t he understand what a big deal this was to her?

  “Extravagant, maybe,” he said. “I’ll give you that. But inappropriate?” Henny shoved a hand through his damp hair, frustration finally breaking through. “Come on, Bex. It’s not like I’m just some rich asshole trying to get into your pants. It’s me. How the hell long have we known each other?”

  “I know. It’s just… I appreciate the gesture. I really, really do. It’s sweet and thoughtful and the table looks amazing in there. But for me, it’s kind of the same thing as you loaning me money to buy the place. When it comes to the bar, that’s just something I need to do on my own.”

  “But why? I’m part of your life. It’s no different than when we were kids and your mom helped me get my shit together for college. She found out about those scholarships—”

  “Yes, she found out about them. Got all the paperwork, helped you with the applications. But in the end, you had to earn it yourself. You had to skate your ass off and show up for all those five a.m. practices and prove you had the balls to go all the way.”

  “I care about your dreams, and if I have the means to help you get there, I can—”

  “You can respect my wishes on this.” She folded her arms over her chest. “That’s not negotiable. I need to do this my way. It doesn’t mean I don’t want you by my side—just that I don’t want you leading the charge.”

  After a beat, Henny finally nodded, blowing out a breath. “What about the pool table? You really want me to send it back? I doubt they still have the old one.”

  Bex smiled, sliding her hands up his chest, hooking her fingers over his broad shoulders. “If you promise to behave yourself, and stop being so crazy, I will accept your amazing, generous, completely over-the-top gift. But next time you get the urge to spoil me, do it with chocolate. Or a massage. Or—”

  “This?” Lowering his mouth, he kissed her chin, her throat, blazing a trail down to her collarbone, his fingers working at the buttons on her shirt.

  Bex laughed. Two minutes in his presence, and she was completely disarmed. “You’re impossible. You know that, right?”

  He’d gotten three buttons open so far, just enough to reveal her lacy black bra. Skimming his fingers over the top, he said, “I think you mean irresistible.”

  “No way.” She faltered, her heart rate kicking up a notch as he teased her nipples with his palms. “I can… totally… resist you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Watch me.” With great effort, she pulled out of his embrace and went to the fridge, pretending to look for something to eat. There wasn’t much inside—a bag of carrots, leftover sour cream from their last batch of naughty nachos, some thawed chicken breast, takeout containers that probably needed to be tossed. “You need to go shopping, Henny. Without my input, your snack game is pathetic.”

  “Make a list. We’ll get whatever you want.” Henny tossed his towel over the back of one of the kitchen barstools. “In the mean time, I need to get ready. Gallagher set up a meet-and-greet with one of the high school teams before tonight’s game.” He kicked off his sneakers, then peeled off his shorts.

  Naked. The man was standing before her in all his beautiful, muscular, sweat-glistened glory.

  Her gaze trailed over his muscled chest, the firm ridges of his abs, the line of dark hair that led down from his belly button, the v-shaped muscles that pointed to her most favorite places. He was hard, and made no attempts to hide it.

  Damn, he was beautiful.

  Damn, she was horny.

  “Was that eye-fucking good for you?” he teased. “Because it was great for me.”

  “I’m not… I wasn’t…” Bex yanked open the refrigerator again, but she wasn’t fooling anyone; she couldn’t tear her gaze away from him.

  “I need a shower,” he said, his hand wrapping around his cock, his eyes full of mischief. “Care to join me, or are you too busy resisting?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’m thinking about it.”

  “You’re gawking.”

  “I’m considering.”

  “Consider this.” Still fisting himself, Henny began to stroke, slow and steady, turning her bones into Jell-O. “The longer you take to make up your mind, the less time this cock will spend between your thighs.”

  “Or between my lips,” she countered.

  Henny gaped at her, but recovered quickly, turning and walking down the hall toward the master bath. “You know where to find me when you’re done considering.”

  Bex held out as long as she could, but as soon as she heard the water turn on, she was toast. No way could she stand there unaffected while her man was in the shower, wet, soaping himself up, stroking that smooth, perfect shaft…

  “I’m coming!” By the time she reached the bathroom, Bex was already naked, her clothes disappearing so fast she didn’t even remember tearing them off. “You win, Kyle Henderson.”

  “I always do.” Henny opened the shower door, inviting her to step inside the huge, stand-up shower.

  She sighed happily, grateful as always for the dual shower heads.

  Water streamed down over his pecs and abs, and she traced its path with her fingers, his skin slick and warm and inviting. His cock pressed urgently against her belly.

  She wrapped her hand around it, stroking him slowly as hot water slid deliciously down her back.

  Henny whispered her name, his head tipping back, his chest rising and falling as his breathing quickened.

  Suddenly, Bex didn’t want to touch him. She wanted him in her mouth. All of him. And she wanted him to remember this moment. To think of it every time he took a shower. Hell, any time someone turned on the hot water, she wanted him to get hard.

  Without warning she dropped to her knees, ignoring the hard press of the tile as she took him between her lips, her tongue seducing him deeper and deeper into her mouth.

  “Fuck,” he breathed, sliding his fingers into her wet hair.

  She sucked him, then pulled back, stroking him with her hand, guiding h
im in and out, deeper and harder. He was hot and smooth and perfect in her mouth, filling her completely as she licked and teased, bringing him right to the precipice, then backing off, building and building until she was afraid he might collapse from her exquisite torture.

  “I want to taste you,” she whispered, licking the end of his cock, his flesh hot and salty.

  “Bex,” he warned, “I can’t hold back much longer.”

  She looked up at him through her lashes, hungry and needy and so, so desperate to make him come.

  That was all it took. Henny growled her name, his fist tightening in her hair as he took over and fucked her mouth, faster and deeper, harder, water pelting her bare back, tiles digging into her knees, his orgasm exploding in a final, perfect thrust that left him shuddering and gasping for air.

  Certain he was more than satisfied, Bex took her time easing his cock out of her mouth, teasing the tip with her tongue before finally releasing him. He slumped back against the shower wall, barely able to stand.

  He watched her rise from the floor, his mouth parted, water sluicing down his body as he fought to catch his breath. The look he gave her was one of amazement. Like he’d never seen her before. Like every time with her was a brand new adventure, full of surprise and intrigue.

  “I should probably let you get ready,” Bex said softly. She grabbed the shower door, but before she could step out, Henny’s mouth was on the back of her neck, his hand snaking around her belly, fingers dipping lower, lower… Oh, God.

  “Sorry, beautiful,” he breathed. “We’re not even close to done here.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Leaving Henny to finish getting ready after their marathon shower session, Bex put on his Radiohead T-shirt and headed into the kitchen to refuel. She didn’t have much to work with, but she managed to throw together a salad and a half-decent stir-fry with the chicken breast and leftover Chinese. She was pretty sure the wok she’d found had never been used.