hurt-so-good

by Scott, Myra

  Timmy had also been the one to organize the plays for this game. Even though this was only the first match of the season, it was already a great one.

  Three-zero in the Miners’ favor with just seconds left on the clock, it would be going down as a win in their books. Steven and Peter, who had gratefully resumed his position as defenseman again, both hollered happily as they skated by on the ice with a small wave to Jake and a thumbs up to the new coach in training.

  As the buzzer let out another, final shriek, the opposing teams on the ice slowed to a stop where they were, shaking one another’s hands as they began to file towards their coaches. While the other team was disheartened and miserable for the loss, the Miners were clearly ecstatic, buzzing with joy at their first win in so long.

  Meeting Jake’s eyes across the room, Crash skated hastily past his teammates as Jake grinned and jumped over the rink wall to land right in Crash’s arms. They spun in a slow circle, arms wrapped around one another, lips pressing joyously.

  “That was a great game!” Jake bellowed, eyes glinting as their mouths crashed gently again.

  “All thanks to my good luck charm,” Crash responded with a wink.

  Though it’d been nearly an entire year, the time had passed in the blink of an eye. Living with Jake and Monsoon, Crash had never cherished his days as much as he did now. He looked forward to every night where he would curl up with Jake and a morning where he would wake to his lover’s glorious face. The days were sweeter now, shorter, more deliriously wonderful than he could ever have imagined.

  Each day was better than the last, and Crash couldn’t wait to see how their future played out.

  The lights of the rink flashed then dimmed as a spotlight lit the center of the rink. It spun once, circling around as the players filtered off. Faster and faster it swept in a circle until it suddenly landed on Crash.

  The bulky goalie glanced around in bewilderment, looking at Coach and then Timmy and finally at Jake, whose face had paled just slightly and whose shoulders had gone nervously rigid.

  Then, slow as an anxious sloth, Jake sank to one knee on the ice, nearly slipping to the side and skidding away.

  “Crash,” he whispered from where he bent. “Crash, I love you. I want… I want to be with you forever. You fill my life with a sense of completion I’ve never known. I want to spend every day at your side, I want to wake beside you every day.” He trailed off, swallowing, tears glistening in his eyes. “Will you marry me, Crash?”

  Reaching down, Crash swept Jake up into his arms, their chests pressed together as their mouths collided tenderly. Behind them, the audience leapt to their feet, cheering wildly, though not as wildly as Crash’s fervently excited team.

  “Of course, Jake,” Crash whispered against the love of his life’s lips. “Yes!”

  As they held one another, they could feel their hearts beating as one, a rhythm that would stay true forever.

  THE END

  THE CHARMER

  SIN CITY SENTRIES – BOOK ONE

  (EXCERPT)

  ZANE

  “Last chance to back out,” I told Diego as I straightened my tie in my seat, smiling smugly at the Spaniard as he took a quick drink of his wine.

  “And make the biggest scene the Strip has scene in decades? Don’t tempt me,” Diego replied with a wink that made me chuckle.

  We were sitting at the table of honor in La Torre’s event hall, and the place was decked out as if we were hosting a gala for charity. Crowds of current and former VIP guests made up the other large, round tables that dotted the hall, with champagne and food being served liberally all night. The sounds of both our wealthy clienteles mingling and chatting made up the sweetest background noise I’d heard all month.

  It was the sound of a promising future.

  I knew it was the article that some lucky journalist had published that I had to thank for Diego’s sudden change of heart--or perhaps that was just the right nudge he needed to make a decision he already knew he wanted. Whatever the case, the sound of his voice over the phone call he gave me that evening was delicious.

  It had been almost as delicious as the joint announcement he proposed next.

  The business we dealt in had high stakes, so it was only fitting that we hold a big event to make the announcement. Moreover, since it would affect both our companies, Diego proposed that we make the announcement together, on the condition that La Torre host the event.

  I would have preferred it be hosted at a third-party venue, of course, but the thought of seeing Bart’s face when I told him they wouldn’t have to stretch security thinner for such an event was worth it.

  If I was honest with myself, I would have admitted that Diego could have swayed me to do a lot with the promise of the two of us appearing on camera together.

  I wasn’t feeling especially honest tonight, though.

  “...so, without further ado,” said the young woman Diego had introducing us up on stage, “it is my great pleasure to give the floor to Mr. Diego Castillo and Mr. Zane Anderson for our special announcement this evening!”

  “I’m looking forward to seeing you in action,” I told Diego as the two of us stood up to make our way to the stage. I gave a wink to Gage, Mick, and Bart at our table before I turned. The three of them were keeping to themselves for the most part, and every now and then I caught them glancing between me and Diego meaningfully.

  “What, are you the type to enjoy someone else taking the lead?” he rumbled back to me, sending a shiver up my spine. The look in his eye told me he got every bit as much of a thrill out of the spotlight as I did.

  Cameras were already flashing around us by the time we were halfway to the stage, so I made a point to keep my eyes of Diego’s ass. It took every bit of willpower in me to do that, too. When we mounted the stage, I gave polite smiles and waves to the crowd, treating them like I was born to please the masses.

  Diego took his place at the microphone, and I could have sworn he looked like a Greek statue standing there, those full lips and dark skin taunting me as he basked in the attention of everyone before us.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, that smug smirk on his face making him look like he was about to announce the takeover of the whole damn city. “I am humbled to be here before you. Not long ago, you welcomed me to your fine city, and you have been so very good to me ever since.”

  You have no idea how good I could be to you, I thought, gazing at him as he spoke.

  “As long as I have been the proud owner of La Torre, I have known the Sentry and the excellent Mr. Anderson as my gracious neighbor,” he said, turning to shoot a smile at me that shook my heart to its core. I returned a cool, confident one of my own, inclining my head. “Some might call us rivals, and in some ways, this is true--a little rivalry stirs the blood in a way nothing else can.”

  My god, if he keeps talking like that, I might not survive the evening, I thought, feeling warm in my suit.

  “But a rivalry need never be bitter, and what I am proud to announce tonight is proof of that.” He picked up a remote from the podium and turned to click a button, making a screen behind us light up. On it was the graphic of the street our buildings loomed over, and with another press of the button, the bridge between the two began to materialize on screen, to the interested oohing of the audience.

  “I am excited to present you all with a collaboration between La Torre and the Sentry Hotel and Casino--each establishment’s first-ever jointly shared nightclub, spanning both of our proud establishments and connected by a lounge that will overlook the Strip and provide our clients with the view of a lifetime.”

  As he finished along with the graphic animation, the audience burst into applause that made me swell with pride and I smiled beside Diego.

  “This would not have been possible without my good friend Mr. Anderson,” he said, “and I look forward to a co
ntinued and exciting new partnership between us. Thank you.”

  He turned to give me a beaming grin that could melt the heart of the devil himself, and he shook my hand to the sound of a thousand cameras clicking in the audience. We turned to face them, both of our eyes shining and our hearts racing as we touched each other in that electric moment.

  And just as one of the camera flashes nearly blinded me, it hit me like a hot iron: I was crushing on Diego Castillo. Hard.

  ***

  “To the nightclub,” Diego toasted with me, and we clinked our glasses of champagne together, now far removed from the cameras. The two of us were standing out on one of La Torre’s balconies, leaning against the edge and enjoying the warm evening air as we drank chilled, bubbly alcohol together.

  I had tried to invite the guys with us as we headed to the balcony a few minutes ago, but Bart had just given me a thumbs up and a knowing grin. I knew what he was thinking, though, and it was not going to happen.

  I’m not going to let that happen, not with a man who’s still the enemy, damnit.

  “I must say,” Diego said after we nearly drained our glasses, cheeks rosy, “you, Zane Anderson, have a way of working the cameras.”

  “Me?” I half-said, half-laughed. “Don’t be modest, you had such command over their attention that you could have announced you were doubling your prices and they’d still have applauded.”

  He swirled what was left of his champagne around in the glass and looked me up and down with a curious smile on his face. “I couldn’t give you the microphone because you’re such a smooth talker you could swindle the whole casino from me if you had half a chance, you bribón.”

  I gave a smiling shrug as if admitting that it was true. “In my defense, that’s just genetic, for me.”

  “Oh, really now?”

  “I come from a long line of smooth-talkers,” I said as both of us got comfortable leaning on the balcony. “My grandfather, up in the Twin Cities, he didn’t have the kind of success I’ve achieved, so every now and then the family house would get the electricity shut off.” I chuckled as I remembered him telling me the same story by the fire. “But him, he knew the power guy on a first name basis and managed to talk his way into getting it turned back on for free every other year. Never paid a penny in late fees.”

  Diego let out a hearty laugh, and the sound of it sent a wonderful shiver up my spine.

  “You come from a remarkable line of people, then,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye. “I would like to see what you’re capable of when you’re really trying, Zane.”

  “Zane now, is it?” I asked, smirking through a sip of champagne. “Not Mr. Anderson? If it’s going to be Zane, then it’s going to be Diego for you.”

  “We are business partners now, Zane,” he said triumphantly with a vigor in his tone that made my blood run hot. “I think we can safely be that comfortable with each other.”

  I was at my limit. The energy he spoke with, the way his body language was like electricity with mine, the way we commanded that stage together...I couldn’t hold it back any longer.

  “Good,” I said in a low, husky tone, stepping closer to him to his surprise. “Because I like the sound of you saying my name, and I’d like to get a little more comfortable.”

  In a fluid motion, I slipped my hand behind his head, feeling his thick black hair in my fingers as I leaned in to press my lips to his.

  The next moment, I felt a hand on my chest, holding me back.

  I opened my eyes to see the most beautiful face I’d ever looked at with a storm of emotions written all over it, but in a breath, his face hardened with a hint of sadness.

  “Zane, I…” he started, his voice as husky as mine. He bit that full lip of his, cheeks blushing.

  “Do you want this?” I asked, my voice dripping with meaning and my thumb stroking the back of his neck. The smell of his cologne was intoxicating. The heat of his body drove me wild this close up. “Because I want this, Diego. I’m a man who knows what he wants, and I want you.”

  He swallowed, and his heart was pounding so hard I could feel it from his neck. Everything about his body language screamed that he wanted this. The moment was right. We were on the edge of something great, but all I needed to hear was that one word to give me the green light.

  Instead, I heard the five most damning ones.

  “Zane, I have a boyfriend.”

  My eyes widened, and I lowered my hand slowly.

  “I am sorry,” he said, turning away from me and setting his glass on the balcony edge.

  “Diego, I had no idea,” I whispered, taking a step back and running my hand through my hair. I tried to mouth a few words, but I didn’t have anything else to say. I quickly downed the rest of my champagne and set it down, desperately needing another.

  “I never said anything,” he confessed.

  “You didn’t think you’d need to,” I said. There was a tense pause between us before I turned around and started to head for the door back inside. “I need a stiff drink.”

  “Zane-” Diego started to say, but I knew there was nothing more that ought to happen tonight.

  “Good night, Diego,” I said simply as I stormed into the building. “I’ll be in touch about the usual business.”

  I wasn’t kidding when I said I needed a drink.

  DIEGO

  I was standing under the soothing spray of the rain shower in my master bathroom, letting the water wash away the shame and guilt I felt about what had happened last night at the event. I squirted shampoo into my palms and reached up to slowly, methodically massage it into my wet hair. I closed my eyes, willing myself to think about literally anything else. Anything but Zane and the way his eyes seemed to glow in the dim light of the lanterns. The way his carefully-tailored suit was tight enough to hint at the lean, muscular frame he was hiding underneath his clothing. I remembered how, after hours of drinking and networking with the wealthy investors and influencers weaving throughout the party, Zane’s bowtie had been tweaked just ever so slightly askew. It was at a cocky angle and a little bit loosened, and it had taken all of my restraint not to reach over and straighten it out.

  But I had known last night, even with the warming, inhibition-lowering booze running in my veins, that if I had dared to put my hands anywhere near him, I was a goner. I longed to pull him close, slip my tongue into that gorgeous, tempting mouth, press up against him until he was sighing and moaning. I could picture it all so vividly, the way his strong arms would move me. He could shove me up against a wall so easily. I would go limp and pliable under his control, do anything he asked of me. I would feel his cock stiffen against my leg…

  Speaking of which, I opened my eyes and looked down to see that my own cock was erect, my body fully aroused by the mere thought of Zane putting me in a compromising position. My heart pounding, I reached down to stroke myself, my mind wandering back to the image of Zane with his mouth open, his blue eyes demanding for me to…

  “No,” I said aloud, scolding myself. I could not cross that bridge. I could not allow myself to openly fantasize about Zane and touch myself to the thought of him like this. If I was somehow going to keep our relationship strictly business, I had to be firm with myself. No more daydreaming about his body. No more lusting over his sensual lips and intense blue eyes.

  I continued washing my hair, then washed my body, ignoring my stiff cock and burning desire. In my defense, it had been an awfully long time since I had last been intimate with another person. Alvaro was so far away, the Atlantic Ocean in between us. There had been a time years ago when we were still trying so hard to keep the spark burning. We used to stay up late having phone sex, both of us murmuring into the phone with raspy voices, touching ourselves with our eyes closed. Pretending to touch each other despite the distance that separated us physically. It was never very good. I spent the whole time trying to ge
t him off, completely ignoring my own needs-- much the way it had been when we were in the same country together.

  Now, though, it was more than just physical distance that kept us separate. The last time I had suggested giving phone sex another go, Alvaro had flat-out laughed at me and hung up. It had taken days for me to work up the courage to ask him in the first place, and it took even longer for me to recover from the humiliation of being turned down so harshly.

  Even on the increasingly rare occasion when Alvaro and I were in the same place, it was nearly impossible to chip through the thick layer of ice that had somehow sprouted up around him. He was cold and unyielding, and even the slightest touch between us felt like a trespass. Alvaro looked at me sidelong, out of the corner of his eye, ignoring me when I was right in front of him. Like I wasn’t worth looking at, and I certainly was not worth eye contact. It was just a massive departure from the way we had been when we first got together all that time ago. Back when Alvaro and I first met, he had smiled more often, touched me more often. He had always been a little uptight about public displays of affection, and that was fine with me, but at home in the privacy of our own space there was a time when he used to hold my hand. Kiss me on the cheek. Even hug me.

  But those were all remnants of the past, and I had a feeling that every tiny hint of affection he had given me was just a trick to make me fall for him. These days, I was lucky if I got him to even talk to me for more than a few curt sentences. I was eternally trying to figure out what I had done wrong to transform our love into mutual discomfort. It seemed like every single day we were apart, the rift between us grew deeper and more impassible. I was no longer certain of what I could do to fix it. Alvaro still seemed to care for me when it mattered most. He was always giving me advice-- asked for and unsolicited alike-- and urging me toward success. It was partly his prodding that led me to such success with La Torre. Every time I was exhausted and burned out, ready to take a much-needed vacation and recuperate from the stress, Alvaro was there on the phone warning me that if I took a break, my casino would suffer. I wasn’t totally blind; I knew that Alvaro’s guilt machine wasn’t wholly for my best interests. He wanted me to be successful, to rake in money, but he was much less interested in my personal wellbeing.