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Playing for Keeps

Page 3

by Rhonda Laurel


  He uncovered his eye with his finger and watched as she bent down to pick something up. “I like what I see already.”

  She whipped her head around. “Keep those eyes covered, mister.”

  He knew she’d been working fervently on this room for months to make it cozy for him. It was a miniature version of his beloved bar. It already had a bar that seated six people, pinball machines, comfortable leather chairs, a jukebox, scoreboard, hockey memorabilia scattered about, and three flat screen televisions on the wall.

  “OK, you can look.”

  He whipped his hand away from his eyes. She’d gotten him a pool table with a fancy, Tiffany-style overhead lamp with the Slap Shot Bar slogan on it. “Wow.”

  “Do you like it? They delivered it yesterday. I thought it would be a nice touch for your man cave.”

  “I love it.” He smiled. “Are you going to hustle our guests? I’d have to ban you and Trina from playing here too.”

  “I’m challenging that ridiculous ban. I can understand Trina, but I’m your girlfriend. I should have some special consideration. Serves those idiots right to think a woman couldn’t beat them.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “There’s a few more things I want to add in here and then this room will be perfect.”

  “Until you find the next thing that would look absolutely fabulous in here.”

  “What can I say? I’m a dedicated designer.” She went over and straightened a picture on the wall.

  Derek looked at her for a moment. There had been something different about her the last few weeks, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. She was still gorgeous, but she’d changed somehow. He knew she had a strict beauty regimen, but lately she glowed even more. “Did you start using a new moisturizer or something?”

  “No.” She stepped back. “How’s that?”

  “Perfect.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Did you do something with your hair?”

  “No, but I was thinking about getting a haircut tomorrow. Why do you ask?”

  “You look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you.”

  “It’s the soft lighting from all the candles you have lit. I always look awesome in candlelight.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Except there are no candles in here. Just the recessed lighting.”

  “Then it’s my angelic nature finally shining through.” She came over and kissed him. “How was your trip?”

  “We can talk about that later. How about we christen that pool table?” Derek waggled his eyebrows as he gripped her by the waist and guided her in the direction of table.

  There were a million different things going through his mind, but right now he was more concerned with getting her out of her dress. He’d missed her something terrible. The closeness they shared had embedded in him so deeply that he didn’t feel right being away from her for even one day. These days, even the away games were a trial, even though he knew he’d always come back to his love and she’d be there.

  The balls on the table scattered as he placed her on the table, covered her mouth with his, and moved his hand up her thigh and beneath the dress until he reached her panties. He tugged at the lace thong she was wearing until he heard the rip of the fabric and flung it onto the floor. He deepened the kiss. Their tongues entwined in a heated battle as he inserted two fingers into her and caressed her clit with his thumb. He didn’t have to ask her to open wider for him; she instinctively parted her legs so he could move closer to her as she fiddled with his belt. The kisses and caresses couldn’t come fast enough as his body ignited with an ache that only she could satisfy. Her small hands were so soft and gentle they felt like silk being rubbed over his skin.

  His breath hitched when Charisma unzipped his jeans and caressed him. He wanted to go slow, but seeing her always made his heart race and got his adrenaline pumping. She had a way of obliterating his self-control. Tonight was special; he wanted this to be perfect because when they finished making love, he was going to pop the question.

  He grabbed hold of her waist and pulled her closer to the edge of the table. He felt the warmth of her as soon as he lunged into, and she overloaded his senses. He moved in and out with slow, fluid movements to enhance the pleasure for both of them. But she wasn’t having that. She was a small woman, but the bone-crushing grip on his shoulders was an indicator that she wanted him to quicken the pace.

  Charisma let out a giggle when he had a near miss with the fancy overhead lamp when he tried to climb onto the table. There was no use breaking the thing, and she’d just bought it for him. Still it was a small price to pay to be inside her. He rose up on his toes as he deepened and increased his manic thrusts into her. It felt so good to be inside of her. There wasn’t anything else in the world but the two of them and what their bodies shared and what they were when they came together this way.

  A wave of pleasure swept over him, so he took one last big plunge into her and climaxed. She groaned in ecstasy as her own release came a few seconds later. Exhausted, he leaned her back on the table and placed his head on her breasts to listen to her heart beat. They stayed that way for a while, enjoying the silence.

  “That was awesome.” Charisma ran her hand through his hair.

  “You are incredible.” He lifted up and kissed her on the lips.

  She sat up on her elbows and looked around the table. “I think some of the balls went in.”

  “I can account for at least two.” He grinned.

  “I hope we didn’t ruin the table.”

  “The table’s fine.” He pulled his boxers and jeans back on carefully to make sure the ring didn’t fall out, then scooped her up. “Let’s go get in that big king-size bed.”

  Charisma nestled into Derek’s shoulder as he walked down the hall to their bedroom. As soon as they made it to the bed, they removed their clothes and made love again. He might have gotten sidetracked about his mission tonight, but he was having a great time all the same. Making love to her was always exciting and new. He always made the effort to make her feel like the most important woman in the world, because she was to him. Pleasing her was always his top priority.

  They were snuggled together, his body wrapped around hers as he caressed her back. Charisma was in a light slumber, but a strategically placed kiss or two could easily remedy that. It was the perfect time to propose. He reached down on the floor for his jeans to get the box out of his pocket when the sound of his announcement ring tone for the Slap Shot boomed around the room.

  “Score! It’s the Pirates for the win!” He tried to grab at the phone and silence it, but it was too late.

  “Who’s that?” Charisma mumbled.

  Derek groaned. “It’s the Slap Shot. I told them no calls tonight.”

  “Then it must be important. You better answer.”

  “No. They have to start making decisions on their own.” The phone stopped ringing, to his relief. He nestled closer to her. “See, they figured it out.”

  “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

  “No.” He put the phone on the night table. “What’s the point of having management if they can’t figure out how to handle tricky situations when the boss isn’t around?”

  The sound of another ring tone cut through the air again. This time it was louder because it was the house phone.

  She giggled. “See, it is important.”

  “Why do we have a house phone in this day and age anyway?” He yawned.

  “We agreed to a landline as a backup in case Grandma needed to get in touch with us.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I’m getting it. If the Slap Shot were on fire you’d never forgive yourself for not answering.” She reached over to the night table and answered. “Hello. Hi, Steve. He’s right here.”

  “Steve, what’s going on? They did what? Was there anything broken? Where are they now? Did you call the police? No, that was the right thing to do. Thanks for calling.” Derek disconnected the call and sat up.

  She frowned.
“What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Jonas and Mike. They got into a fight at the bar. They practically tore up the place.”

  “Déjà vu.” She threw on her robe at the foot of the bed and started collecting their clothes off the floor. “What happened?”

  Derek jumped up and glanced around for his boxers. “Jonas was at the bar getting plastered when Mike walked in. They got into it.”

  “They’re always fighting about something.”

  “That’s no reason to have the fight of the century at my bar.” He stealthily picked up his jeans, searched the pocket for the ring box, and put the ring in his underwear drawer.

  “Where are they now?”

  “Steve took Mike outside to cool off; he hadn’t been drinking. By the time he went back to check on Jonas, he was gone.” He sighed. “He left his car keys, but the little shit took off with a bottle of my private reserve whisky.”

  “The good news is, he’s not driving,” she said as she rifled through the closet, looking for something to wear.

  “I can’t believe they’re pulling this crap.” Derek started pacing the floor. “This is why I didn’t want to vacation with them. When they’re not smashed and fighting each other, they’re trying to hit on you.”

  She laughed. “Jonas likes to tell me I’m pretty because your face ticks every time he says it. They do it to get under your skin.”

  “Nobody compliments my woman except me.” He walked over and kissed her. “What are you doing?”

  She held up a T-shirt and jeans for him. “Aren’t you going to check on the bar and see where Jonas is?”

  “Right now, I’d prefer to take a shower with you.” He took the clothes from her, set them down on the chair, and led her in the direction of the bathroom. “The season is over, which means my babysitting duties are too. I’ll go assess the damage in the morning. Steve said he’d send me a pic after they’ve cleaned up some more so I won’t have a heart attack.”

  He’d almost gotten over the threshold of the bathroom when the buzzer-like sound rang through the air. This time it was coming from the intercom system downstairs. They had a visitor. Who the hell could that be? He went over and lifted up the bedroom wall panel and pressed a button. The monitor came on instantly. It was the doorman.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Popovich,” the doorman said quickly, looking upset. “But there’s a man at the loading dock entrance asking to see you. He…um…can’t seem to find his way to the front entrance.”

  Derek shook his head, dumbfounded. What was going on tonight? Was the world going crazy? “Who is it?”

  “I’ll patch the camera feed into your screen, sir.”

  A moment later, the doorman’s face disappeared, replaced with a view of the back loading entrance. He recognized the man slightly swaying on the cement platform.

  “Are you kidding me?” he called to Charisma. “It’s Jonas. And he’s at the wrong entrance.”

  “Where is he?” she asked.

  “The loading bay of all places.” Derek took another look at the monitor.

  “Well, at least he’s not out somewhere causing even more trouble.” She leafed through the closet looking for something to slip on.

  He stabbed at the talk button. “What do you want Jonas? If you’re here to apologize for destroying my place, we can discuss it tomorrow.”

  “Pop, it’s Jonas,” Jonas slurred.

  “I know it’s you, idiot. I can see you on the monitor.” Derek let out a big sigh and shook his head.

  Jonas looked around for the camera and after he finally looked up, he waved. Then he started grooming himself like he was looking in a mirror.

  Derek’s jaw ticked. “Hey man, it’s not a good time. I can’t guarantee I won’t beat you to a pulp until Steve sends me a photo of the damage.”

  “That son of a bitch Mike attacked me at your bar! Can I come up?”

  Derek took his hand off the button. No way was he getting involved in their drama. Knowing the two of them, they were probably fighting over a woman. He was about to tell Jonas to go jump in a lake and sober up when Charisma gave him a look. “What?”

  “Let him up.”

  He shook his head like a toddler who didn’t want to eat his vegetables. “They’re immature idiots. I’m not getting involved this time. It’s bad enough I referee during the season.”

  “We can’t let him roam around in that state. He’s liable to end up on the eleven o’clock news.” Charisma handed him the T-shirt and jeans again.

  “This is not how I wanted our night to end.” He caressed her cheek.

  “I know. I was looking forward to giving you a wash and wax.” She flashed a wicked grin.

  “You’re killing me.” He groaned and reached for her, but she moved out of the way. “Fine. Jonas can sleep in the lobby, assuming the doorman doesn’t attack him with a Taser.”

  “You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself. Maybe not tonight, but in a few days you’d feel guilty about not helping a friend. It’s one of the reasons I love you so much.” She slipped on a pair of yoga pants and her favorite Pirates T-shirt.

  He blew out a long breath. She was right, but damn, this was destroying his special night. First his bar was ruined, then the proposal he’d so carefully orchestrated. It was as if the fates wanted him to fail tonight. “OK.” He put on his jeans. “I’ll go downstairs and get him.”

  “Take your time coming upstairs. I’ll tidy up the living room real quick and turn on the coffee machine.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

  Derek pulled on the T-shirt as he called downstairs to alert the doorman that yes, the visitor at the wrong entrance was indeed a guest and he should hold off on calling the cops. Who would opt to go to a weird side door with a platform instead of a brightly lit front of the building? Jonas would when he was schnockered, that’s who.

  Derek did a slow march out of the apartment. He punched the button for the elevator and the doors opened immediately. He stepped inside, hit the ground floor button, and sighed. He totally felt Seth’s pain about grooming the next generation. He loved his teammates, but there were days when he wanted to throttle them all. He’d really become the father figure of the team, whether he wanted the role or not. He counseled and gave as much guidance as he could, but there was only so much you could teach grown, single young men with a ton of money and celebrity about being discerning. They weren’t looking for love. They were looking for fun and good times. It was what he’d done when he was their age.

  The elevator doors opened, and he strolled through the lobby. The doorman was looking at a disheveled Jonas like he was crazy, but he’d let him inside. Derek could see Jonas’s black eye as he approached. He was clutching the bottle of whiskey Steve said he’d absconded with earlier that evening.

  “It’s OK Terrence. He’s with me. Would you believe he’s the center for my team?” He smiled, trying to take the edge off the situation.

  “That’s Jonas Dudikoff?”

  “Yeah.”

  Terrence nodded and smiled as if the name now put the black eye in perfect context.

  Derek rubbed the back of his neck and squinted at Jonas. “Holy shit. You look terrible.”

  “Yeah.” Jonas put his hand on his shoulder. The man reeked of booze. “Well, Mike looks much worse. I mean…much worser.” He nodded sagely.

  “Come on. Let’s get you upstairs.”

  Jonas talked his ear off as they rode up in the elevator together. It was mostly incoherent drunken babble, but Jonas had a look on his face as if he were a scholar giving a lecture at a university. The mood was further dampened when he returned to the apartment and found Charisma had indeed extinguished all of the candles and turned off the music. She was fluffing the pillows on the living room couch when he opened the door.

  “Hi, Charisma,” Jonas slurred as he went over and gave her a hug.

  “Hi, Jonas.” Charisma drew back and waved her hand. “You’ve been hitting the good stuff pretty h
ard tonight.”

  “I was minding my own business at the Slap, drowning my sorrows, when Mike comes in like a…like a maniac.”

  “I hope you know that bottle costs five grand,” Derek seethed.

  “Really?” Jonas peered at the label. “Wish I hadn’t spilled most of it when I fell over.”

  Charisma smirked. “How did you get here, Jonas?”

  “Cab.”

  “Woman troubles?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “I hope you know drinking can’t solve everything.” She gently pried the bottle out of his hands.

  “I know. Why can’t I find a woman like you?” He gave her a onceover and a lopsided grin. “You look so pretty today. Doesn’t matter if it’s those fancy clothes or yoga gear, you’re gorgeous. Popovich hit the lottery when he got together with you. I hope he knows how lucky he is. Does he treat you good?” Jonas eyed Derek.

  She smiled. “Thank you, Jonas. He treats me like a queen.”

  “Why can’t I meet a nice woman like you? If I had met you first—” He outstretched her arms to hug her again.

  “Hey.” Derek stepped between them. “Reel it in, Romeo. She’s mine.”

  Jonas scowled at him. “I was just telling the truth.”

  “Tell your truth over a cup of coffee.” Derek pushed him in the direction of the kitchen; Jonas clumsily went on his way in that direction. More or less. Derek turned to Charisma. “You have no idea how much I want to kick his ass for ruining our evening.”

  “I know, but you won’t because you are a good teammate and a good friend. Have Jonas suck down some of those hotdogs, maybe it will balance out all that whiskey.”

  “You didn’t eat anything tonight. You want me to bring you one?”

  “No, it’s getting pretty late. I’ll grab some snack mix from the bar and a cranberry juice.”

  “I love you.” He kissed her.

  “I love you too.”

  * * *

  She could tell by the look in Derek’s eyes that he was upset about cutting the evening short. He was out there right now having a man-to-man talk with Jonas. One of the things Derek looked forward to at the end of the season was getting away from his crazy teammates. This wasn’t the first time he’d gotten involved in handling a dispute of some sort. But that’s just who he was. He’d complain about it, but he was the voice of reason and wisdom for the team. Jonas, especially, needed some guidance for navigating the landmines of fame. He was a nice guy, but he was pretty gullible when it came to women. Every time he met someone, he’d declare that she the one. Derek had talked to him about the perils of falling for every pretty face that crossed his path, but he was young, gorgeous, and rich and didn’t listen to a word he said.

 

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