The Rebound: A Rochester Riot Sports Romance

by Colleen Charles

  He swiped the home screen to remove the message and rolled his eyes in frustration. Screw Eloise and her empty threats. If she was going to go after every man her baby sister dated, she was in for a world of frustration. But as for hurting Hannah, he’d never do that. Not intentionally. Hannah made his dark world as bright as any star in the night sky. He wanted to spend the next two days worshiping her, making her scream in pleasure, not pain.

  It felt like a great time to disappear under the radar where no one would speculate on the status of his budding NHL career, and he had just the company to make the world fade away. As he packed his ski gear, he pictured Hannah again in a bikini and ski boots, wearing aviator shades as her golden hair flew loose in the wind off a mountaintop like a curvier Lindsey Vonn. And even better, in a bikini in the hot tub at the lodge. Hell, without the bikini. His personal little snow bunny, unspoiled and untainted by any low-life douchebag to screw her over and leave her with a fucked-up view of men like her big sister. He often wondered who’d come before him to turn Eloise so bitter toward a man who just wanted to appreciate her softness. And he’d been speared. Kind of like a dog nosing around after a rabbit and encountering a porcupine instead.

  The thought of caressing Hannah’s soft, sweet body as pristine as the hillside he planned to ski down made his cock rock hard in his jeans. So much for a semi. He’d now gone straight to full staff on the wings of his X-rated fantasies starring Hannah Robertson. He got into his car and pulled out of the underground parking, his tires squealing on the concrete. For a change, he’d have something to make Christmas memorable.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Hannah looked down at the intimidating slope of white stretching before her. Her knees already shook from her efforts to shuffle her way over to the bunny hill with what felt like two-by-fours glued to her feet. She must look even more ridiculous on skis than she did on skates. Why in hell did I agree to this? Panic and mortification filled her body in equal measure. Because you’re here with the hottest guy in Minnesota, and you’re falling for him.

  She’d be falling alright, of that she was certain. On her ass. But she had her handsome prince to pick her up again, if he didn’t ditch her out of embarrassment before they even got to the lift. Ryder stepped into position beside her, his movements easy and graceful, the result of a lifetime of participating in outdoor sports. He looked out of place standing here on the kiddie hill, but he smiled just the same.

  “I have to slide down… there?” She gulped, pointing ahead of her with her chin. She didn’t dare free a hand from gripping the handles of her ski poles. After a few falls on her behind, she might be too sore for the other extracurricular activities planned for later. Darn and double darn. But she had to go now because the only way down the hill was on her skis.

  Ryder laughed. “Yup. And later on, you’ll have to slide down… there.” He pointed his pole to the steep mountainside behind them.

  She chanced a look over her shoulder. The panorama of the Lutsen Mountain ski area was beyond beautiful, a majestic vista of snow-covered peaks against a perfect azure sky, and it took her breath away. It had been hidden from view when they’d arrived, and she’d only seen the picturesque lodge iced with twinkling Christmas lights against a jagged snow-covered horizon.

  “Oh, God,” she said. Beautiful as it was, it didn’t make her any less scared. Maybe they should have skipped the ski lesson for today and gone straight to the chalet. Or the bedroom. “I don’t think so.”

  “Hey, it’s easy. You’re a quick study, look how you learned to skate in an afternoon.”

  “I had a good teacher.”

  “So you do, and he’s not giving up on you.” His dimpled smile made her feel like she could do anything, and she wanted desperately to please him. In everything.

  “Okay, we’ll start just like the kids do, with something they can relate to.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Food.”

  “Huh?”

  “Pizza and French fries. Look,” he said, moving his feet apart. “Put your skis parallel to each other, pointing straight ahead, like this.” Hannah gingerly lifted her feet to mimic his stance. “See, they’re like two French fries side by side, right? When your skis are straight, you’re going to go faster. Now, point your toes inward like this, and touch your knees together.”

  Again, she copied his movements, clumsily twisting her feet to angle the tips of the skis into a V shape. “Now you’ve made a shape like a pizza slice. When you want to go slower, you make a pizza. The edges of the ski will dig into the snow, like a plow. Hence the term snow-plow. But if I yell ‘pizza’ or ‘French fry’ it’s easy to remember what to do – Pizza to go slow, French fry to go fast. Got it?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Good. So make French fries, and I’ll give you a little push to get started.” She did as she was told, and Ryder’s hand met the small of her back. With a steady push, she started moving forward down the slope. Her skis made a swishing sound, and the slow glide was pleasant until she started slipping faster, then a little faster, getting farther away from Ryder as she went. A hoot of panic left her lips.

  “Pizza,” he called, and she remembered to point her toes and squeeze her knees together. She slowed immediately and then came to a dead stop. “Excellent,” he said, gliding up beside her. “So just keep doing that until we get to the bottom, then we’ll go up the lift to get a little higher and try again.”

  As she practiced these simple moves, Hannah gained confidence, and they were soon riding the chairlift to mid-mountain. They played ‘follow the leader’ down the green runs, which she learned meant the easy, novice runs, just copying what Ryder did as he skied ahead of her, discovering that putting more weight on one side of the ‘pizza’ than the other would initiate a turn.

  By early evening, she realized she loved skiing and wished she would have learned sooner. They stopped for a late dinner at the base lodge, sitting by a huge central fireplace with a massive copper dome and a chimney running up the height of the vaulted log-beamed ceiling. When they got chilled, they’d stop in again and enjoy spiked cider and mugs of mulled, spiced wine. Pine boughs and garland laced the entire place with holiday magic.

  Around six o’clock, they called it quits. Even though the ski area was flooded with light, allowing for skiing in the dark, Hannah didn’t feel she was ready for that quite yet. “My legs are going to snap in half if I go down even one more run.”

  “Well, we can’t have that, not with such pretty legs as those,” Ryder said, pulling on the pompom of her hat. Damn. If he turns up the charm dial any higher, the snow will melt right off this mountain. “We can ski right down to our cabin door from here. Just take it slow and follow me.”

  They stacked their skis in a wooden rack on the porch of their cozy chalet unit, one of a dozen or so that were located at the edge of the hill across from the main lodge. Hannah loved the rustic look of it, with its big log beams and posts and mullioned windows with white trim.

  Inside was a sitting room with a stone fireplace, a bar and mini-kitchen and a bedroom with en suite bath. Hannah showered while Ryder ordered dessert from the lodge dining room. They ate cheesecake and drank wine, and though she felt stiff and sore after such a physical day, she wouldn’t have changed a thing.

  Ryder picked up their wine glasses and led her to the big, wooden-framed sofa in front of the fireplace.

  “This has been such a perfect day,” Hannah sighed as she sank into the soft cushions. She looked at Ryder as he handed the glass to her and touched the rim with his own in a small toast. “Thank you for inviting me. It’s the first time I’ve–”

  “Been away with a man alone? I know. You don’t have to explain yourself, I’m just glad you enjoyed it. You’re a natural at winter sports.”

  Hannah smiled as she lost herself inside Ryder’s amber brown gaze. He was so kind to her, so patient. She couldn’t imagine how Eloise could say the things she did. She cared for this man, with a
n intensity of feeling she’d never known until now. The fire that crackled a soft, staccato rhythm in the background could just as well have been fireworks, proclaiming all the emotions she was feeling inside with blazing glory.

  “A perfect day,” she repeated. “Thank you.”

  A corner of his mouth turned up in a sexy smile. “It’s not over yet,” he whispered, sliding his hand over hers as she rested it on the knee of his blue jeans.

  Hannah smiled back. What other surprises might Ryder Martin have for her to turn their perfect day into a perfect evening? She’d almost forgotten it was Christmas Eve. He hadn’t yet given her a proper Christmas gift; leastways none with a shiny bow on top that she could unwrap. But this amazing trip, this dreamy chalet, and a picture-perfect day on the slopes was gift enough.

  “It’s not?” she asked innocently, wanting to hear the words come from his lush lips.

  “I want to make love to you, Hannah.”

  Love?

  That’s what she wanted from this man, body and soul. It felt as if she’d been waiting for it forever.

  He shook his head slowly, not breaking eye contact. Hannah felt hypnotized, suspended in a happy bubble of bliss and excitement. She didn’t regret leaving her family behind on Christmas Eve. Ryder was everything she’d fantasized about in a man and couldn’t imagine being anywhere else at this moment than here with him.

  “We’ve got the whole evening ahead of us.” He set their glasses down, then lifted her hand to his lips and kissed each of her knuckles in succession. “Just you and me.”

  “Our own little winter wonderland,” she whispered, the words catching in her throat. She didn’t think she could draw her next breath let alone say something profound in this moment.

  “All our own,” he echoed, his eyes intense and searching hers.

  A shiver ran down Hannah’s spine, the power of his glance captivating and even frightening in a forbidden, delicious way. His dark lashes made a soft border around those passionate, beseeching eyes. He made light of their almost seven-year age difference, but she realized this was no college boy holding her hand and searing her soul with his scorching gaze. This was a grown man, his wants and desires unfamiliar to her. Would she be able to fulfill them? She trembled with uncertainty. Just the touch of his lips on her hand gave her goosebumps. What might they cause when they explored elsewhere?

  She felt as though standing at the edge of a deep pit, her stomach fluttering with vertigo. The fall would be steep, merciless, with no hope of return if she gave in to what he wanted – what they both wanted. This night could change her. It would change her. The depth of the implications became such a wide expanse of turbulent emotion she might never climb out of it, if she even wanted to. Perhaps it was time to release control and fall.

  “Hannah,” he groaned, turning her hand so that he could kiss the pulsing underside of her wrist. “I want you.” He pulled her toward him across the soft fabric of the couch they sat on in front of the fireplace. The acrid, musky smell of burning logs wafted around them, sweet, warm and tantalizing, like Ryder’s luscious lips as they hovered near hers. “Now.”

  Their lips touched, only a whisper of contact to begin, then the crushing warmth of his mouth consumed her, wet and wanting and oh so sweet. She thought she might melt into its swelling lushness, the kiss like no other she had ever experienced. Her head swam.

  His hard, muscled body pressed against her, his hands seemingly everywhere at once. On her thighs, her ass and her breasts. Her spinning thoughts coiled into panic. They were all alone now, not in a public skating rink within view of prying eyes. No one to see or hear, or to gossip, nor deter him from taking what he wanted.

  But what did she want? She was infatuated with Ryder, had fallen for him hard, her ingenuous walls tumbling down like those of Jericho. She wanted to please him, give in to him, but she also wanted to be special to him, not just another hockey jock’s conquest. Deep down she realized she really was behaving like a princess – holding out for Prince Charming and the fairy tale ending. Would her prince turn out to be the predator that El had railed against?

  “Ryder,” she gasped, prying her lips loose and clutching at his groping hands.

  “What?” he murmured, repositioning his hands at her every attempt to repel them. His mouth moved to her throat, trailing kisses downward as his fingers unbuttoned her shirt. She gasped as he slipped her bra strap off her shoulder as well. His lips traveled farther south, across the exposed skin of her chest. The straining mounds tightened in response.

  Everywhere he touched, she tingled and ached, making it hard to spit out the words that might send everything into an episode of crash and burn.

  “I want you too,” she breathed, “but not like this.”

  Ryder froze, his seeking mouth just inches from her pebbled nipple. Hannah felt her heart pound, her chest rise and fall against his stubbled cheek. Neither spoke for a tortured minute, then Ryder raised his bowed head.

  “You’re right. It’s getting too hot in front of this fire. We should be in bed.”

  With that, his arms circled her, one hand slipping beneath her thighs. He rose from the couch, lifting her with him. “Ryder!” she shrieked. “What are you doing?”

  “Making you mine. I can’t wait one more second.” His voice was a sexy growl. “Remember that night? The night of the fundraiser?”

  “Yes,” she croaked, hanging on for dear life.

  “I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you. And from the first time I heard your voice… I knew you belonged to me. Now, I’m going to prove it.”

  He strode to the bedroom with her slung in his arms like Scarlett O’Hara being taken up the grand staircase at Tara. Except instead of flailing her arms and legs, she clutched onto him with all her might, burying her face in his neck and inhaling deeply of his manly, intoxicating scent. She knew she wouldn’t resist, whatever came next.

  He laid her on the bed and caged her body with his own. He held her chin inside the V of his thumb and forefinger and kissed her, his tongue insistent and forceful until her lips parted and allowed him entry.

  His hand left her throat and resumed the work of undoing her buttons all the way and pushing her shirt aside. Clever fingers found the front clasp of her bra and popped it open like an expert. Her pussy clenched with an unknown, powerful sensation at the same time his hand cupped her breast, squeezing and brushing his thumb across her nipple.

  A helpless moan escaped her throat, finding no outlet as his seeking tongue scoured her mouth. Her breasts swelled taut under the relentless touch of his thumb and sent a lightning bolt of heat through her core, causing a pool of slick wetness.

  He released her lips, moving his body downward until his head lay against her chest, his thick sandy hair brushing her skin. “Hannah, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, “so perfect.”

  His tongue reached out and laved her nipple in a slow, circling pass before taking it all in his mouth and sucking hard. She bucked upward, reaching. Searching. Every nerve screaming for more, as her nipple compressed into a hard, tingling nub inside the warmth of his mouth. Her pussy throbbed, and as if in response, his fingers found the zipper of her jeans and pulled.

  Her breath came in excited pants, her brain swirling in the maelstrom of impulses bombarding it as he peeled her jeans away and his heated lips grazed her abdomen. “Ryder,” she whimpered, no coherent words forming to express her feelings, or the uncontrollable sensations rocketing her body. “Ryder…”

  He raised himself away from her. “Turn over,” he urged, his voice low and rough. With a firm hand on her hip, he rolled her onto her stomach, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed. She could do nothing but gasp for breath and allow him to take control. Wanting to trust him, she surrendered, hoping she wouldn’t live to regret it. He stood and pulled the jeans down over the hump of her buttocks and down her legs until he could slip them off her feet. She heard the denim land in a heap on the wood-plank floor.

/>   Her panties followed, his fingers hooking into the filmy material and sliding them slowly, sensually past her ass cheeks and onto the floor. She waited face down on the soft comforter, the skin of her bare ass pricking into gooseflesh as she listened to the rustle of his own jeans making an exit to the floor along with his shirt.

  She felt his hands glide up the backs of her thighs, and she shivered, feeling another rush of moisture gather between her folds. Please, Ryder, please touch me right now. Where I crave it. He reached beneath her belly and slid her farther onto the bed, raising her hips upward and spreading her legs as he fitted his body between them. He pulled what remained of her shirt and bra away and stroked her bare back with the palms of his hands, working his way lower and lower until they rested on the round globes of her buttocks. He circled them with his palms, then slid one hand around her front to spread the lips of her pussy that were now slick with arousal.

  Hannah felt as though she would burst into flames, her body needing release from the onslaught of desire pulling at every muscle. He touched her there, at the very core of her sex, so precious and private where only he was allowed. His hardened cock pressed into the crease between her cheeks as his finger found her throbbing nub and stroked it, pulling a strangled moan from her lips.

  Dear God, she couldn’t stop herself – a black wave of ecstasy overtook her and pulled her under like a relentless tide. She writhed in sweet agony.

  “That’s it, baby, come hard for me.” She heard Ryder’s smooth as silk voice croon from above. He kept stroking her through the thunderous seconds of orgasm that crested through her before gradually receding. “Good girl,” he whispered, his sexy smile showing through his words even though she couldn’t see his face. She gasped for breath, limp, spent and overcome with emotion.

  She felt him retreat from her, their bodies parting when the last thing she wanted was even an inch of space between them. She heard the crinkle of a plastic package and realized he was putting on some protection. Safe sex was protocol, but in a way, she felt denied. She wanted all of him, all to herself, every raw, naked inch.