by Toni Aleo
He laughs, but it stops when I press my lips to his. His arm comes up around my neck, holding me close, as his other hand grips one of my ass cheeks. I hold his face in my hands as our kiss deepens, and my heart nearly explodes in my chest. I pull back, running my fingers through his coarse hair as he gazes at me through his half-lidded eyes.
“I wish you had told me.”
I scoff. “No way.” I shake my head, the laughter bubbling in my throat. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna think I’m crazy, but I want to tell him. “There was this time, you had this amazing Willie Nelson shirt on. I was learning ‘Georgia on my Mind,’ and I wanted so bad to play it for you so you’d think I was cool too. I even begged my mom to buy me that shirt.”
“Which one?”
“It’s the one that says ‘Have a Willie Nice Day’ with him on it?”
He thinks for a minute and then rolls me over and gets up. He goes into his room, and when he comes back a few seconds later, he has it in his hands. “This one?”
“Shut up!” I exclaim, jumping up and walking to him. I stumble from the excitement to get to him and the shirt. “You still have it?”
“Hell yeah. It’s one of my favorites.”
“It’s amazing!”
He holds it out to me. “Here, wear it.”
“Shut. Up.”
“No, really,” he urges, and then he’s pulling off my jersey. “Wait, is this a Shea Adler jersey?”
“Yup, vintage. Circa his first season as an Assassin.”
“Nice.”
“For sure,” I say quickly as I lift my arms and then grab his shirt, covering the tank I had under my jersey. Of course, the shirt drowns me, but I don’t care. It smells like him. It’s super soft from being so old, and I swear, I can still see him in it.
When I look up at him, my eyes wide and my face warm, he’s grinning down at me. “Perfect fit.”
He pulls out his phone and holds it up for me to pose. I give him a cheeky grin with my arms up, and I feel every bit like I’m eleven again. That fluttering feeling in my gut. That overwhelming need to touch him, to talk to him and make him see how amazing I am. I don’t think I have to try so hard. I think he sees it now.
He sees me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
AIDEN
“NO WAY.”
Shelli’s face is drop-dead serious as she holds out both palms, nodding. “Aiden, hear me out.”
“You’re insane.”
“Never!” she stresses before taking a bite of pancake. She chews quickly, swallows, and I can’t help but smile. She is going to make me agree with her. “I love Jensen as much as anyone else on this team, but he isn’t our Jensen anymore. He’s older, ready to move on. We need to bring up our talent. Gallagher needs to move up into the backup spot. We need to send Mansor back down at least for the rest of the season. Get Gallagher’s feet wet, and then after we win the Cup, Jensen retires, Gallagher is our dude, and we make a trade for Peca.”
My jaw drops. “Isn’t he a first-round draft pick? No one will come off him.”
“They will. No one needs a good goalie right now. Everyone thinks they’re fine. It’s all about scoring at the moment, which is how we swoop in and snatch him up. We can let go of some of our young talent, especially our forwards. Mom went crazy a couple years ago, but I’m telling you, if Jensen goes, we need to strike now for our goalie team.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“Seriously, ask Tate. I told him my plan, and he looked at me the way you are right now,” she promises with a little grin and a forkful of pancakes. Her hair is up in a topknot, and she hasn’t changed out of my tee yet. It’s almost two in the morning, but I don’t think either of us is tired. We’ve been talking and kissing since she got here. It’s been pretty outstanding.
She takes a bite and nods. “It’s starting to make sense, isn’t it? You’re getting past letting go of Jensen.”
I narrow my gaze as I pull my hair up into a bun. “You’re too damn hockey smart for your own good,” I say, leaning over the bar and holding up a strawberry for her.
She leans over, taking it in her mouth before batting her eyelashes at me. “It’s part of my charm.”
I chuckle as I eat a strawberry. “How do you know all this?”
“It’s a passion.”
I eye her. “You should have been a coach or something. Played or been a scout. All that knowledge is going to waste.”
She shakes her head as her brows come together. “No, I get to talk to my mom and dad, all the guys at the rink, and then you. I love it.”
“Don’t you want more?”
She shrugs. “My time will come. Right now, I’m enjoying singing at the bar and talking with people who love hockey as much as I do. I also love interning, even though I just update social media right now.”
I point at her with my fork. “That’s right. Why are you doing that? Your mom owns the team.”
She nods and purses her lips at me. “You know my mom. You work for what you want. I decided a couple weeks ago I want the team. Well, no, that’s not right. I’ve always wanted the team, but I thought she’d give it to the boys.”
“Why would she do that? Anyone who talks to you knows you are basically an updated version of her.”
“Updated?” she asks with a sly grin.
I nod as I count on my fingers. “Smarter, bolder, more cutthroat. You won’t think with your heart. You’ll go toe-to-toe with anyone, and you’ll win. No one would be able to shut you down. Not that your mom can’t hold her own, but she cares too much. You’ll get what you want. You’ve got a really great ass, spectacular eyes, and I think you rock the heels better than your mom.”
Her lips curve. “All that makes me an updated version?”
“All that makes you Shelli Adler, the next owner of the Nashville Assassins. I hope I’m playing when it happens.”
She looks up at me coyly through her lashes. “I don’t know. It could be very unethical for you to be sleeping with the owner.”
The thoughts swirling in my gut scare the hell out of me. As much as I can feel it, I can’t see it. I don’t want to ruin what we have going here, though. This is nice. It’s special. “Your dad did it.”
She grins. “He did.”
I take a bite of my pancakes as she watches me. “Hopefully I’m still playing then.”
“You will be. You’re just now going into your prime. You’re finding the confidence you’ve always had but didn’t use ’cause you had talent. Now, your talent with your confidence? Shit, you’re gonna be unstoppable in no time.”
“Wow. You know my stats, don’t you?”
She looks up at me, certainty on her face. “In the last five games—six goals, nine assists, plus/minus twelve, time on ice average about twenty-one minutes.”
A wave of lust comes over me. “Wow, that’s a turn-on.”
She nods. “You’re not the first to tell me that.”
“I want to be the only.” What in the hell did I just say?
She raises her brows. “The only, huh?”
“Yeah.” What the fuck? Am I not in control of my mouth?
Shelli’s lips curve. “I can make that happen.”
Why does that make my stomach turn upside down? I lick my lips free of syrup as our eyes stay locked together. I put my fork in the middle of my plate and walk around the bar. She watches me, her blue eyes getting darker. I come up beside her, taking her by the knee and turning her so her legs are in front of me. “So, are you sure you want to stop singing?”
She looks down at where I’m grabbing her leg, unzipping those naughty fuck-me-stupid boots. “In favor of the Assassins, yes. Don’t get me wrong, I love to sing, but I love hockey more. Plus, I can write and play in my free time.”
I nod as I drop a boot to the floor. “True, but don’t you love performing?”
She shrugs as I grab her sock, tossing it on the floor along with her boot. I take her other boot and unzip it as
she says, “By the time I get the team, I’ll be older and done with the performing stuff.”
I drop the boot along with her sock before I hook her leg over my hip, bringing myself in closer, and cup her face in my hand. “Do you want to do another play?”
She swallows hard as she looks up at me. “I don’t know. I didn’t like the play I was in.”
I nod as I move my thumb along her lip, catching some of the syrup she left behind. “I mean, singing to a snowman can get old.”
“Exactly.”
“I don’t think you’re done.”
“No?” she asks, and I notice the breathless tone to her voice.
“No, I think you were born to be onstage.”
She moves her mouth over my thumb, licking the syrup off it. My breath catches as those naughty eyes don’t leave mine. She kisses the tip of my thumb. “You think so?”
“Yeah,” I say as I thread my fingers up into her hair. “I really love to listen to you.”
Her eyes burn into mine, her breathing picking up. “I need to ask you something.”
“Funny, I need to ask you something.”
We smile. “Go first.”
“Stay with me tonight? I don’t want you to leave.”
She moves her hands up my chest and around my neck. “Don’t you have a flight to catch in the morning?”
“Yeah.”
“Won’t I be a distraction?”
“Yeah.”
She grins, and my stomach clenches. My cock is pressing into my slacks, and fuck, I want her. With a sneaky grin, she says, “You won’t hear me say no.”
“Good.” I drop my mouth to hers, unable to hold off anymore before I take what I want. Which is all of her. She tastes sweet as all hell, and when she wraps her other leg around my waist, I can feel the heat of her against me. My fingers bite into her ass as I press into her. If the damn counter weren’t so full, I’d throw her on it and do her right there.
Fuck it.
I push the plates off the counter. As they go crashing to the ground, I lift her and put her sweet ass on there. She smiles against my lips, and I yank at her leggings, needing them off.
“You really hated the plates.”
I pause, pressing my forehead into her chin. “No, I’m sorry. Just really want you, and I wasn’t thinking.”
Her giggles make me harder. “It’s okay.”
I look up at her. “It’s not. I’ll replace them. You’ll just need to show me where to get them. I’ll even buy you something slutty so I can take it off you.”
Her lips turn up. I’m pretty sure I just asked her to take me shopping. Again, a very intimate thing. It’s like I have no control over myself around her. With her eyes dark and naughty, she says, “Slutty, huh?”
I nod, breathless. “Something strappy and see-through, for sure.”
“Crotchless.”
I groan against her mouth. “Well, of course.”
I capture her mouth with mine as she lifts up so I can yank her leggings and panties down. I grab her butt as our tongues tangle together. She moves to the edge of the counter, wrapping her legs around me as she pulls my shirt up and over my body. She tears her mouth from mine, licking down my jaw, my throat, driving me absolutely wild. She sucks on the base of my neck, and my head falls back as I run my fingers down the crack of her ass. Her fingers move up the back of my head, threading through my hair as she nibbles and sucks, making me feel as if my cock will break off from being so goddamn hard. Her mouth feels so good.
I take her face in my hands, tipping her head back so I can feel her lips on mine. Her eyes are open, meeting mine for a second before they fall shut. Her lashes kiss her cheeks in such a beautiful, sweet way. I’ve never watched a girl as I kiss her, but I don’t want to do anything but that now. Not just any girl either, only Shelli. Her thighs squeeze my waist, and I find that I’m shaking with need.
But then I remember something.
I pull my mouth from hers, and she mumbles for more. “You had a question.”
She opens her eyes and blinks. “What?”
“You told me to go first.”
She blinks once more. “Really? I think we have more important things to do.”
I capture her bottom lip with my teeth. “Tell me,” I say, and she shakes her head.
She hooks her thumb to the piano. “Do you play that, or is it for show?”
I’m offended. “Do I seem like one of those guys who would have that for show?”
She looks up at me with a straight face. “Yes. That’s why I’m asking.”
“Wow. Rude!”
Her laughter tickles my soul. I lift her off the counter and carry her to the piano.
“The bedroom is the other way.”
“Ha. I have something to prove!”
God, I love the way she laughs. I put her on the top of the piano and pull my slacks up as I sit on the bench, opening the lid over the keys. I realize I’m still shaking, but I don’t care. I will show her that I can do this. I press my fingers into the keys and start playing Niall Horan’s, “Too Much to Ask.” It’s one of my new favorites that I’ve just learned. When I look up at her, her eyes are wide and her lips are turned up in a radiant smile.
“Shut. Up.”
I love her reaction. I don’t know why, or even what brings me to do it, but then I’m singing. I want to impress her, and my mom always said I have a nice voice. When I look up at her, her jaw has fallen as much as her topknot.
“No. Freaking. Way.”
I close my eyes as I sing, nowhere near as great as her, but I’m decent. When she joins in with me, I open my eyes, and my heart stops dead in my chest at her beauty. She’s let her hair down, and she’s lying on the piano as her voice blends with mine. She could sing me under the table, but right now, she’s only adding where she wants. It’s beautiful, sweet, and when I finish, looking up at her, I feel like she’s knocked me straight on my ass.
“Where the hell did you learn to sing like that?”
“I have no clue. My mom loves it.”
“You’re so good!” she gushes, and I feel heat creeping up my neck. “Though, I think we have a problem.”
My face breaks into a grin. “I’m a better singer?”
She grins back. “That, and I might have to do you right here.”
“Right here?” I ask as she moves herself down the piano, her feet lowering to the bench and giving me one hell of a view of her slick, wet center. “Oh, like right here.”
“Yeah, I’m not joking,” she says, leaning forward and taking my mouth with hers. Our tongues meet as I pull my wallet out of my back pocket, getting the condom I put in it to replace the one we used the other day. I pull away, nibbling at her bottom lip. “Stand up.”
She arches a brow, but she does what I ask, standing above me, her pussy right there as I push my slacks down my thighs. I run my tongue up her center, and I’m met with the most amazing moan known to man. It should be the sound everyone hears when they look up passionate moan. I grab my cock as I lick her, and I slowly put on the condom. I love the sounds she’s making, but I also know I can’t wait much longer. Once I’m sheathed, I grab her by her hips, and she lowers down on my cock until she hits the hilt. She brings her arms around my neck as our eyes meet, and our cries of relief mingle together. I move my arms up under her knees and slowly lift her so she moves up my cock. Her head falls back as I bring her back down, my cock disappearing inside her. She’s flushed everywhere, and I want to lift her shirt and bury my face in her breasts, but she loves the shirt.
And I love it on her.
Her pussy tightens around my cock as I pick up the pace, needing to come so damn bad, I can’t see straight. It’s torture, moving her up and down my body, but I love the color she’s turning. Her face is red, her hair is wild, and those eyes are blazing.
When she cries out in frustration, lifting her head, her eyes meet mine. “I can’t. This is too slow.”
“Too slow?”
Again, one of the greatest sights I’ve ever seen.
She looks over her shoulder at me. “Fast.”
“Fast?”
“And hard.”
I take hold of her hip in one hand and push my cock into her. “Oh, believe me, it’s going to take some restraint not to go as hard as I want.”
She looks up at me through those long, sexy lashes. “Fuck restraint.”
I think I just came.
I take her by the knee and lift it up into her ribs as I move into her. She’s moaning my name in a way that has my knees shaking as I start to slam into her. There is something about the sound of her ass against my thighs that gets me so hard. Or maybe it’s the throaty way she screams my name as she shatters. Her head falls forward onto her arms, and I’m thrusting so hard into her, I can’t breathe. Her body squeezes mine as my fingers bite into her skin. When I come, I feel it everywhere. And I mean everywhere.
My fingers, my toes, my knees, but most of all my heart. It’s fucking exploding in my chest. She lets her head fall back as mine presses into her shoulder, our breathing audible and uneven. I jerk into her as the last shocks of my orgasm run through me. Soon, we still, our breathing still a bit out of sorts, but I can finally breathe and see again. I move my hands up to her waist, her chest, before cupping her throat and then her jaw. I turn her face so that I can take those lips with mine. I don’t want to stop. I’m completely captivated by her.
When she breaks away so she can breathe, I sit back on the bench, pulling out of her. I drag her down into my lap, and she looks up at me with a naughty grin on that sweet, flushed face of hers.
“What?”
Her lips purse as her face fills with more color. “I don’t know what I liked more. Your singing or having sex with you.”
I chuckle loudly. “So, what are you saying? If I sing, you’ll want to have sex with me? This could be a dangerous game. I’ll start singing in the middle of a gas station.”