She rolled a massive suitcase down the chocolate brown hardwood floor of the hall toward the foyer. I eyed it doubtfully. “You know we’re only going for four nights.”
“I know.” She gave a sheepish smile. “I have a hard time packing light.”
“I told you all you have to bring is bikinis.”
“Phht. I went online and that resort is really fancy. You have to dress up for dinner. So I have some cute sundresses. And cover-ups. And some shorts. And shoes.”
“Okay.” I held up a hand. “It’s fine.” I shook my head, amused. She was cute. Today she looked different. She had on some eye makeup, but not the smoky eye shadow she usually did, and she looked soft and vulnerable. “So you’re ready?”
“Yes!” She bounced. “All set.”
“Okay, let’s make like a baby and head out.” I opened the door and rolled her suitcase into the hall.
She giggled as she followed me. Then she paused. “Ah, shit. I don’t know what I did with my keys.” She turned in a circle.
I couldn’t help with that, so I stepped back into the doorway and waited for her. After a few increasingly frantic minutes of searching, she finally located them in her purse.
“Why did I put them in there?” she asked. “Oh well.”
We were halfway to the elevator when she stopped again. “Wait! I forgot my phone.”
“You won’t need it.”
“Yes, I will! I can’t go without my phone!” You’d think I was depriving her of oxygen. “Hang on.” She hurried back to her condo and let herself in.
I knew she wasn’t a stereotypical dumb blonde so her brief moments of flakiness and drama only amused me. In truth, just being around her with her bright smile and bubbling energy lifted my mood, which had lately been getting lower and lower.
Finally, we were in the elevator riding down to the main floor. We crossed the elegant lobby with oak and leather furniture and tin panel ceiling. The doorman held the brass doors for us, and I heaved her suitcase into my car.
“I still can’t believe we’re doing this.” She beamed a smile at me from beneath her sunglasses. The sun was bright in Chicago today, but it would be a helluva lot warmer in Aruba.
“Believe it.” Once again, I loved that I’d made her happy. This had been a genius idea. And maybe Jordyn and I would soon be having cake by the ocean. Daaaamn. The thought of having her all to myself for the next five days—four nights—sleeping in the same bed, made things stir in my southern region.
Chicago Executive Airport was a bit of a drive, but we listened to music and talked about all kinds of things. Then we were crossing the tarmac and boarding the private Cessna I’d chartered.
“This is insane,” Jordyn said. “I can’t believe you chartered a private flight.”
“I checked commercial flights, but there’s not much that’s direct from Chicago, and I didn’t want to waste precious time sitting in an airport in Atlanta.” I wanted her in a bikini with my hands on her applying sunscreen ASAP. And cake. By the ocean. “Plus it’s private. No fans stalking you.”
She rolled her eyes, then surveyed the interior of the small plane as we settled into seats facing each other across a small table. A basket of snacks sat on the table. The plane held eight passengers, but we were alone. The pilot and co-pilot were checking the instruments up front.
“I hate to think about how much this cost,” Jordyn said.
“Don’t think about it.” I winked at her. “It didn’t cost as much as my car.”
She nodded with wide eyes.
She was a famous musician so I assumed she had money too. But it was cool that she wasn’t all blasé about it.
Sitting on a plane for five hours wasn’t my favorite thing to do. I liked to be moving. But I’d brought a couple of books to read, a Michael Crichton and one by an author I’d never heard of that looked good. We watched a movie on my tablet, and Jordyn read on her Kindle for part of the journey. I considered sex, but that would be awkward if we got caught.
As we neared our destination, I said, “Do you want to change?”
“Oh, good idea.” She unbuckled her seatbelt and took her carry-on bag to the bathroom. When she returned, my jaw dropped. She wore a skimpy little sundress, black with bright flowers that showed off bare shoulders, arms, and legs.
“Nice dress,” I managed to say.
“Thanks. I had to go shopping for this.” She tucked her bag away and took her seat. She slowly crossed her legs and smirked when my eyes dropped there. “All my summer clothes are still in L.A.”
“Oh shit. I never thought of that.”
“It’s okay. It’s not like I minded shopping.” She grinned.
The door to the cockpit was closed so I didn’t bother using the bathroom, just stripped off my sweater and jeans in the small cabin. Now it was Jordyn’s turn to go slack jawed. I smiled, giving her a show as I changed into a T-shirt and shorts, flexing my biceps, taking my time as I lowered the shirt over my abs. She blinked.
“I knew you looked good,” she said. “I saw those pictures of you in the Elite Sportswear ads.”
“You did, huh.” I zipped my fly and adjusted my junk.
Jordyn swallowed. “But you look even better in person.”
I gave her a smirk. “Good to know. You can see me up even closer in”—I glanced at my watch—“about an hour.”
“Oh boy.”
As we landed, we watched out the windows, taking in the turquoise waters and white beaches. When we stepped onto the tarmac at Queen Beatrix International Airport in Oranjestad, Jordyn said, “Oh my God, this is heaven.” She stretched her arms wide, turning her face to the sun, and did a graceful twirl.
The air was warm and sultry, a soft breeze teasing Jordyn’s pale hair back from her face. She looked gorgeous…skin glowing in the sun, hair gleaming, a smile on her pretty mouth. “Yeah,” I agreed. “Heaven.”
We took a taxi to the resort, Jordyn gazing raptly out the window as we drove.
“This place isn’t big,” I told her as we pulled up. “And it’s adults only.”
“Sounds fine to me. It looks beautiful.”
It was late afternoon local time. We checked in and were shown to our room, with clean, modern décor of pale walls and floors and dark wood furniture. My attention went to the king-size bed, my mind went to the gutter, and my body tightened in anticipation.
Jordyn poked around a bit, opened the glass door and stepped out onto the balcony to take in the ocean view. Modular wicker furniture on the balcony was in a seating arrangement. Then she stepped inside, padded across the bright patterned rug, and threw herself facedown sideways across the bed.
“Tired, babe?” I moved closer and rubbed her back.
“A little. Long flights are the devil. I do it all the time, from L.A. to New York or Chicago. But I still don’t like it.”
“Yeah, I know. Want to jump in the pool? Or the ocean?”
“Oh yeah.” She rolled onto her back and smiled up at me.
I held back from throwing myself on top of her. Christ, she looked like she was posing for a spread in Maxim magazine, with the tiny cups of the sundress barely covering her sweet tits, the skirt rumpled high on her thighs. I swallowed a groan. So inviting…but jumping her the minute we walked into the hotel room would be kind of a douche move.
Whichever was colder…the pool or the ocean…that was what I needed. Right fucking now.
I lifted her suitcase onto the luggage rack and unzipped it for her. Then I opened my much smaller one and found a pair of board shorts.
She modestly disappeared into the bathroom again to change, coming out wearing a loose, gauzy white cover-up. “I’m ready.”
I was already in my board shorts. I shoved a key card into a pocket that velcroed shut.
She rummaged through her
suitcase and pulled out a bright beach bag. “Do we need money?”
“Nope. They don’t take cash here. It’s not an all-inclusive, but everything can be charged to the room.”
She gave me a look over her shoulder. “I hope you know I’m paying for half of this.”
“Oh no, you are not.” I crossed my arms. “This was my idea. My treat.”
Her face scrunched up. “That doesn’t feel right. This is an expensive date.”
“I can afford it.” I didn’t even like saying that in case it sounded like I was bragging.
“We’ll talk about it later.”
“No, we won’t.”
She huffed, but stopped arguing.
“Here. Take a key card.” I handed her one.
She tucked it into her bag and slung the bag over her shoulder. “Let’s make like a baby.”
I barked out a surprised laugh. “Make like a banana and split.”
She wrinkled her nose. “That one’s not as good.”
I gave her butt a little tap. She squealed and jumped, but she was smiling.
I reached for the door to open it, and the twisting motion of my wrist had pain shooting through it. I winced before I could stop myself.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. Big tough hockey player. You can admit something hurts, you know.” She reached for my wrist and circled her small hand around it gently.
“It doesn’t hurt all the time. Just certain movements.”
“Have you gone to a doctor?”
“Yeah. They did an X-ray, but it didn’t show anything. I had an injection, but I guess it wore off.”
She made an exasperated sound. “Men. You should go back to the doctor.”
“Yeah, they’re sending me for an MRI and another shot. But it’ll be fine after a few days off. Luckily it doesn’t interfere with spanking the monkey.”
She choked on a laugh. “Well, that’s good to know.” She shot me a flirty glance as she walked past me into the hall. “I’ve been doing quite a bit of that myself lately.”
“No shit?” Intrigued, I shut the door and followed her down the hall. “Do you think about me?”
She tossed her hair back. “Hell yeah. Especially after I saw that ad. I may have saved it on my computer to look at…you know…”
My heart nearly exploded. “Jesus, Jordyn. Now I won’t be able to walk because my dick’s so hard.”
Her low, musical laughter went straight to my balls. I reached for her hand and lifted it to my mouth as we waited at the elevator. Our eyes met. My skin tingled everywhere, my dick half hard.
Yeah. This was going to happen. Tonight.
We explored the resort, finding the restaurant and then the beach bar, where we ordered margaritas that we carried around as we located the pool and the beach. It appeared a lot of people had already left the pool area, as we had no trouble finding empty chairs. We settled into a round wicker lounger big enough for two, legs stretched out in front of us, crossed at the ankles.
Jordyn rubbed one foot against mine. “I can’t believe this.”
“I know.” I sighed. “Hard to believe we left snow a few hours ago.”
“Doesn’t it boggle your mind when you travel? Like, you go up in the air and you come down in a completely different place.”
I chuckled. “I know what you mean.”
“And this place is always here, we just don’t know about it. These people are always here, living their lives while we live ours so far away.”
Her whimsy bemused me. “That is true. Come on.” I set my margarita down on a small table, took two steps, and jumped into the pool.
I surfaced facing Jordyn, and she wore a huge smile on her face. “You have your sunglasses on.”
I grinned. “Get in here.”
She stood, tossing her own sunglasses to the lounger, and pulled her cover-up over her head.
Aw, fuck. The pool wasn’t nearly cold enough to take care of the hard-on I just developed.
I could only stare in awe as she walked toward the side of the pool in a red bikini. Jesus. The top was a sort of athletic style but it was unpadded and her nipples were hard. The tiny bottom barely covered her ass, held together with bows on each hip. She was a crazy knockout—slender but curvy, pale gold skin, a diamond dangling from her navel, a little black tattoo of some music notes on her hip.
She paused at the side and dipped a toe in. “How’s the water?”
“Not cold enough,” I muttered. I reached up and circled her dainty ankle with my hand.
She jumped back, giggling. “Don’t you dare.”
Was she one of those people who took an hour to get in the water? I kicked my feet, treading water, watching her, and then she surprised me by diving into the pool.
Nice dive.
She bobbed to the surface on the other side, shaking her wet hair back. Wow. This was a different Jordyn Banks, slick haired, wet skinned, so damn sexy I hurt. “It’s beautiful!”
“Yeah.” I swam toward her.
We played around in the pool for a while, which happily involved my hands on her bare skin, then got out to sit in the sun again before it disappeared. A young man in beige shorts and a blue golf shirt, the uniform of the resort, came and asked if we wanted another drink, so we ordered more margaritas and sipped them as the sun went down over the ocean. Palm trees turned into swaying silhouettes against the peach sky, the pool glimmering turquoise. We were almost the only ones left at the pool.
“I’m getting hungry,” Jordyn announced.
“Yeah, me too. Ready to head back?”
“Like a…” She stopped, stumped.
I spoke near her ear. “Let’s make like a penis and head in.”
She threw her head back to laugh. “I like that one.”
“Yeah, me too.” She had no idea how much I liked that one.
Chapter 13
Jordyn
ARUBA
Finally I was going to get laid.
By Chase.
God, how often had I fantasized about this? I was so attracted to him, had been since our first date over a month ago. Wait, I’d been attracted to him even before that—to his picture yes, but to the personality I’d gotten to know on Twitter. And yeah, we all have a public image on social media but you can tell when someone’s really an asshole. And Chase wasn’t an asshole.
When we’d made out on his couch like horny teenagers he’d gotten me so wound up, I’d definitely dialed the pink telephone when I’d gotten home. Sparks sizzled between us all the time—especially earlier in the pool when we’d been nearly naked—and I was having a hard time sitting still as we ate dinner in the restaurant, my inner muscles clenching, my thighs squeezing together.
If he’d wanted to go to bed the minute we’d checked in, I would have been willing. I’d practically offered myself to him and I could see he wanted that…the way he looked at me, his eyes darkening, moving over me, and lingering on my breasts and my mouth. Sexual tension had throbbed in the air. And between my legs. But he didn’t push it. And as much as I wanted him, I respected that. I’d been the one to call a halt to our make-out session and I was getting the idea that I was going to have to be the one to, if not initiate things, make it very clear that I wanted him. Bad.
So here we were in the romantic dining room at a table lit with a candle and decorated with orchids, sea breezes drifting through the open windows.
“Want me to get rid of the candle?” Chase asked, jerking his chin toward it.
His thoughtfulness touched me. I set my hand over my heart and shook my head. “I can handle candles if they’re in a holder. And I don’t have to light it.”
We ate amazing dinners of char-grilled mahi-mahi and a Black Angus steak, drinking a delicious white wi
ne. I had my sandal off and ran my bare foot up and down Chase’s calf under the table.
His lips quirked into a small smile, but his eyes blazed. “Did you pack pajamas?” he asked casually.
My eyes popped open. Then I lowered my eyelids and lifted one corner of my mouth. “Why, yes, I did. My flannel pj’s with the purple pigs on them. How about you?”
“I don’t wear pajamas.”
“Well, that’s presumptuous. I only saw one bed in that room.”
“Yep.” His eyes gleamed.
“It’s a really big bed though.” I tapped my chin. “If we each slept on opposite sides, we’d probably have to text each other to communicate, it’s so big.”
He snorted. “Like that’s gonna happen.”
I smiled. I lifted a hand to my throat and trailed my fingertips down…down…between my breasts. I was wearing a little black slip dress that was super low cut, edged with a narrow lace. His eyes followed my hand. His throat moved. His jaw twitched. My toes rubbed higher beneath the leg of his pants, over hair-roughened skin.
He pulled in a sharp breath.
I smiled. I slid a hand into my hair at the scalp then pulled some strands forward over my shoulder, slowly running my fingers down the length of my hair to my breast. Once again, his gaze followed.
“Do you want dessert?” he asked hoarsely.
I nodded, eyes wide, and drawled, “Oh yeah.”
He swallowed and lifted a hand. The server appeared immediately. “What do you have that’s chocolate?” Chase asked.
“A seven-layer chocolate cake. It’s amazing.”
“We’ll take a piece of that to share.”
“How’d you know I like chocolate?” I leaned forward, arching my back and pushing my breasts out.
His eyes dropped to my cleavage and lingered. “It’s a well-known fact about you.”
I laughed. “I guess it is.” There were a few things I shared about myself on social media, other than my love of hockey, and one of them was my chocolate addiction.
The cake was amazing, dark and decadent. “Chocolate is the only thing that can compare to good sex,” I murmured. I slipped another bite into my mouth and slowly drew the tines of the fork between my lips. “Mmmm.”
Playing Hurt_An Aces Hockey Novel Page 11