Going for the Goal

by Sara Rider

She laughed. “I guess we should order that pizza now.” She grabbed a delivery menu from one of the drawers inside her galley kitchen.

  “Not a chance.” He plucked the menu from her hand and headed to the couch. “I trust you with my career, but that doesn’t mean I trust you with my pizza order.”

  She stood in front of him with her arms crossed. “You can go ahead and order whatever you like. As long as it’s the Deluxe Chef’s Special.”

  “Onions have no place on pizza.” He handed the menu back. “How about the Classic? Bacon, pepperoni, and mushroom.”

  “Fine.” She dialed the number and placed the order for an extra-large Classic, adding in green peppers as an extra topping at the last second. “You can pick them off,” she said in response to the look of disgust painted on his face.

  He pulled her onto the couch next to him. “Brat.”

  “You should know by now I always find a way to get what I want.” She curled her feet up and leaned into his broad chest while he found the remote and flipped to the hockey channel. It had been ages since she’d actually cuddled with another human being. It seemed like such a childish word, but there was nothing sweet or innocent about the way his thumb crept beneath her skirt and traced small circles along her upper thigh.

  “You could’ve warned me you wanted Tyson’s crushed balls in your fists before the meeting today.”

  She stiffened. “I didn’t because I knew it would bother you and you would have tried to talk me out of it. Like it or not, this is the way the game is played. Normally I wouldn’t even tell you about these kinds of negotiations, but I wanted you there so that Tyson would have to look you in the eye while throwing you under the bus like a coward. I can handle the rest of the negotiations solo from now on if that’s what you prefer.”

  His hand continued to stroke higher up her leg. “It’s fine. Just a little weird to watch you lie and manipulate so easily.”

  “None of it is easy,” she said defensively. “You came into my office two months ago demanding the impossible, and I’m doing everything I can to make that happen, and that includes playing dirty. But it’s all fair game. Everyone in this business knows the rules, but not everyone has the guts to use them.”

  “I know, Tiger. I’m just saying it’s hard to watch. Intimidating. And that’s coming from a guy who goes head-to-head with two-hundred-pound men on a daily basis. But I know that’s not who you are in real life.”

  “Oh, well, don’t worry. Your man card is still intact,” she said breezily, hiding the doubt creeping inside her. The boundaries between her worlds were so blurred, who’s to say she wasn’t capable of twisting the truth to get her way? She was already treating this thing between them like a dirty little secret. How long before Nick decided that was a deal-breaker between them? What if things ended badly?

  He tipped her backward so that she ended up on her back, and covered her body with his. He kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re thinking too hard.”

  “Distract me?”

  He inched higher, settling the weight of his growing erection between her thighs. “Like this?”

  She moaned and he kissed her, spearing his tongue between her lips. She wanted to pull him tighter, direct his hips until his cock nestled exactly where she needed it, but her hands were trapped beneath his body. All she could do was grip the waist of his jeans, letting her frantic tugging convey her urgent need.

  He pulled back and she prayed to god it was to make himself naked. Instead, he pointed to a spot on the far wall. “What’s that?”

  She cursed under her breath, knowing exactly what he was looking at. Nothing soured the mood quite like a discussion about why there was an elbow-size hole in her wall. “The result of my first and last attempt to do yoga at home. I haven’t gotten around to fixing it yet.” No need to mention it had been there for more than two years.

  He climbed off her, leaving her feeling naked in the bad kind of way, and inspected the damage more closely. “I could fix this with about ten dollars and a quick trip to the hardware store.”

  She rolled herself off the couch, stepped behind him, and slid her hands along his waist, toying with the fly of his jeans. “Don’t worry about it. I can take care of my own home.” She didn’t want to talk about the crappy state of her apartment. She wanted to pick up where they’d left off.

  “Honestly, it’s not a problem,” he said, oblivious to the way she was stroking his hard cock through the thick denim. “I’m a master at this. I had to learn fast because of all the holes I put in the walls from practicing my slap shot in the basement as a kid.”

  “No, it’s fine. I have it covered.”

  He removed her hand from his pants, holding on to it as he turned to face her. “But I want to do this for you. You do so much for me. It’s just a little thing.”

  “I do things for you because I’m your agent. You pay me to do things for you, not the other way around.”

  “You’ve done more for me than any other agent would have, so don’t tell me it’s just about work. There’s more between us than a damn contract.”

  His words hit her with the force of a wind tunnel, sweeping all rational thoughts from her brain with a heavy gust.

  “And I’m not offering to do this as your client. I’m doing this as . . .” His hand tightened around hers and she held her breath while he hesitated. This was too new, too uncertain for any kind of label. He angled his head lower, letting the full weight of his gaze settle on hers. “As the man who wants to have wild, incredible sex with you.”

  She winced and pulled her hand away.

  “Shit. That’s not what I meant to say.”

  “Really? Because it sure sounds like you suggested you were trying to compensate me for getting in my pants.”

  Fury raged in his eyes, flaring his nostrils. “I can’t believe you think I’d say that.”

  Her temples throbbed. How did this just happen? “I know, but—”

  “Don’t even bother.” He grabbed his jacket and stormed out of her apartment, slamming the door behind him.

  18

  Nick had no clue why florists used titles like “Rhapsody in Rose” and “Winter Enchantment.” Considering that desperate, stupid men were probably the bulk of their customer base, it’d be a heck of a lot simpler to call their products something like the “Sorry I Put My Foot in My Mouth” bouquet and the “I Shouldn’t Have Stormed Off Like a Raging Asshole” arrangement. Then again, god knows the fight he’d just gotten into with Jillian was complicated enough. Only an idiot would assume there’d be a simple way to fix it.

  He eventually settled on a big bouquet with white flowers and a few splashes of yellow and orange. The question remaining was whether he should send the damn thing to her home or her office. He’d obviously screwed up by blurring the boundaries of her work and personal lives, which meant he needed to get this decision absolutely right. The only problem was, he still wasn’t sure where he’d gone wrong in the first place.

  He leaned back in his leather desk chair and rubbed his hand along his jaw, still weirded out by the feel of the sharp stubble rather than the full beard he was used to. For a brief moment, he’d thought about keeping the clean-shaven look, but aside from the fact that it made him feel like his face was covered in baby dolphin skin, he suspected Jillian preferred how he looked with a beard.

  He was about to dial the number on the screen when the intercom for his building entrance buzzed. Great. What other kind of crappy surprise waited for him tonight? “Yeah?”

  “Pizza’s here,” the unmistakable feminine voice said, kick-starting a tidal wave of adrenaline in his body.

  He exhaled slowly. “Does it have green peppers?”

  “Will you let me up if I tell you to eat around them?”

  “I’ll guess I’ll just pick them off.” He buzzed her in and hovered by the entrance like a lonely pu
ppy, waiting to hear the clacking of her heels on the hardwood. He opened the door before she had a chance to knock.

  She stood in his doorway like a goddess, with a pizza box in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other. “Can I buy your forgiveness with pizza?”

  “No.”

  Her features froze, leaving her hazel eyes wide with shock in a way that reminded him of a newborn fawn.

  “You don’t need to buy my forgiveness, but you do need to come in.” He brushed the faint dusting of snowflakes from her sleek blond hair before relieving her of the pizza and beer. He’d been too angry when he stormed out of her apartment to worry about the hunger gnawing at his stomach, but even if he hadn’t already forgotten all the reasons he’d been mad, he was a man ruled by his basic needs. He cared more about pleasing his stomach than his pride.

  “Yes, I do.” She shrugged off her jacket and boots and followed him to the kitchen. It bothered him that her voice lacked its usual confidence. Bothered him more that he was the cause of it. “Do you know how often I get accused of sleeping my way to the top in this business?”

  He stiffened. “I—”

  “I know. You didn’t mean it or even imply it. And I had no right to suggest you did. It’s just that I’m so used to hearing that, reacting defensively is almost second nature.”

  “If anyone says that to you ever again, I will kick their ass.”

  She set her hand on his chest. “I’ve been handling it just fine for years, and I’ll continue to handle it, but I wanted you to understand why crossing this line with you is hard for me. It’s not something I’m doing lightly.”

  “So you’re saying I’m pretty damn special, huh?”

  Teasing her helped unravel the tension inside him. He didn’t expect her lips to twist into a sly half smile and her fingers to curl into the cotton of his shirt. “Yeah, you are.”

  Desire funneled the blood from his brain straight to his dick. Fighting the urge to strip her down in that moment was brutally hard, but there was still some heavy stuff they needed to get through and he’d had enough experience in life to know it was never worth skipping the hard parts. “And you’re pretty damn special yourself. I’m not going to be satisfied with being the guy you call when you’re feeling lonely. I want to be the guy who takes you out to dinner and fixes your broken apartment and makes you laugh and everything else. And I want you to be the woman at my side when I go to stupid birthday parties for my overgrown man-child of a friend. I want you to be the person I kiss when I finally get to hold the Stanley Cup. The person who makes all of this bullshit and stress worthwhile.”

  She swallowed visibly and for a moment he thought he’d pushed her too far. “I’ll go to Luke’s party with you. And you can damn well believe I’ll be there when you win the Stanley Cup,” she said with the kind of conviction that would be frightening if she weren’t on his side. “But it’s not easy for me to accept help. My entire career is built around taking care of other people’s needs. I don’t want you to think less of me because I don’t have my own life completely together.”

  He cupped her face. “I’m not stupid enough to underestimate you. If I believed that not knowing how to replaster a wall had any bearing on your ability to negotiate a multimillion-dollar contract, I wouldn’t have asked you to be my agent in the first place.”

  She gave him the kind of warm smile that made him feel like a superhero, the kind he wanted to capture in a painting, but he settled instead for capturing it with a kiss. He kept it chaste, pulling back before her addictive lips made him forget all the important things he still needed to say.

  “I know you give a lot of yourself to this job. I’m not asking you to stop, but I am asking you to let me in a little more.”

  “How about I let you fix the wall, but you teach me how to do it at the same time?”

  “I can live with that, but I want one free question in exchange. No getting mad or jumping to conclusions.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “All right.”

  “Should I still order the apology flowers, and if so, what kind?”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “No need, but for the record, it’s gardenias. White gardenias.”

  “Noted.” He grabbed some plates, too hungry to make much more conversation, and led her to the couch. He shoveled down an obscene amount of lukewarm pizza while Jillian gave him a breakdown of her take on this afternoon’s meeting with Tyson. She seemed so collected about everything, assuring him that he just needed to follow her rules a little longer and a contract extension with the Vipers would be a done deal by the end of the season. He didn’t have the same faith, but her absolute confidence in her ability to get the job done was sexy as hell.

  “Did you hear what I just said?”

  “You said you wanted to take off your shirt.”

  She laughed. “That is not what I said.”

  “Fine. I got distracted thinking about you taking off your shirt.” He dragged her onto his lap and pulled the silk blouse over her head. “Much better.”

  He ran his hands up her rib cage, stopping just below the cups of her bra and kissing the delicate skin on her sternum. Her nipples puckered against the sheer white lace and she whimpered, arching into him. He dragged his mouth to the soft swell of her breast, gliding his tongue along her skin.

  “Your mouth is amazing.”

  “Tell me where else you want it.”

  Her sharp intake of breath made his cock stir to life. “Everywhere.”

  He blew against the wet trail he left on her skin, gripping her body tighter to feel the shiver run through her spine. “Not good enough, Tiger. If you want it, you have to say it.” He glided his thumb to her nipple, circling it over the lace. “Here?”

  “Yes,” she moaned between heavy breaths.

  He tugged one cup down to expose the tight pink bead and flicked it with his tongue, keeping the touch light enough to drive her crazy. Her thin fingers curled into his hair, silently asking for more but not demanding it. Yet. He wanted her overcome with need, inhibitions lost. Holding nothing back from him.

  “What about here?” He traced her lower lip, forcing her mouth to part in a way that made it impossible to think of anything but how it would feel to sink his cock inside and feel the warm, slick heat.

  She bit down on the pad of his thumb and nodded, grinding her hips down against his. His breath came more rapidly now, matching hers. He cupped her nape and pulled her forward for a deep kiss, erasing any possible doubt of how much he wanted her. Her body, her brain, her heart.

  She tightened her grip in his hair, adding a sting of pain that felt more like pleasure. Her unexpected aggression spiked his arousal until his cock was painfully hard against his constricting jeans, so close to the exposed damp white lace between her thighs, thanks to the frantic gyration of her hips that made her skirt ride up. He stroked her heat with firm pressure. She broke the kiss to tilt her head back and moan. Watching her buck against his hand, greedily seeking relief, lit a fire of need inside him. “Is this where you want my mouth, sweetheart?”

  She shook her head, eyes squeezed shut.

  “No?”

  “That’s where I want your cock,” she choked out in a painfully strained voice.

  His control snapped like an overstretched rubber band. He rocked his hips upward, driving his erection into the spot she needed it most. Her breath came in heavy pants and he knew she was close. “Not like this, babe. Upstairs.”

  She whimpered, like it hurt to stop. He stood up and wrapped her legs around his waist. He regretted not spreading condoms around his apartment like little foil-wrapped Easter eggs, but not because it was hard to carry her up the stairs. Her body was so small compared to his, he could have lifted her with one arm. It was having to wait even an extra minute to sink into her sweet heat that drove him crazy.

  He set her down in the mi
ddle of his bed and yanked her skirt and underwear off with a single tug. The dim light from the city streaming through the windows set a blue glow against her pale skin. Despite the furious pulsing of blood to his hungry cock, he took an extra second to unhook her bra and admire her. His heart lurched with a strange, twisting feeling. If he hadn’t been a young hothead, he might’ve had the chance to experience her addictive internal fire and lush skin nine years ago. Taste every single sweet freckle on her shoulders a million times over.

  But he couldn’t change that now. All he could do was try not to fuck anything up this time, and hope she’d finally open to him.

  “You’re starting to make me feel shy,” she whispered, curling her knees up to her chest.

  “Just needed a moment to take you in. You’re beautiful.”

  “Says the superstar athlete with the body of a god.”

  He grabbed her by the ankles and tugged her to the edge of the bed until she was flat on her back once again. He set his hands next to her head and leaned down until their mouths were just a whisper apart. “I’m going to fuck your brains out until you finally understand how incredible I think you are. Even if it takes weeks. Months. We won’t come out of this bed until it’s branded into your skin.”

  Her hazel eyes flared. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He stripped off his clothes and rolled a condom onto his length in record time. She opened for him without hesitation, letting him sink inside. Her tight, slick heat nearly destroyed him. He pulled back and surged forward, harder this time. Her mouth parted the way it always did when she was overcome with sensation. With each thrust, the small mewling sounds escaping her throat became bolder, morphing into single-word commands. Harder. Deeper. Faster.

  He obeyed every one until a sheen of sweat coated his skin, desperate to give her what she needed. Taking care of her in the only way she would let him. Her breath came in rushed gasps, signaling how close she was. He pulled her breast into his mouth, lavishing her with quick flicks of his tongue, and used his hand on her clit, knowing it’d push her over the edge. She shattered beneath him with an unrestrained cry, tightening and pulsing around him. His own relief came like an unstoppable force, propelled by her insatiable fingers digging into the skin on his back, urging him to break apart with her.