Going for the Goal

by Sara Rider

  He sat quietly listening to Jillian answer questions about her history with Parsons while Detective Grace scribbled in her notepad. Jillian snuck occasional glances his way during some of the tougher questions, letting him know his presence was, at the very least, appreciated.

  “Thank you for your answers, Ms. Nichols,” Detective Emerson said. “At this point, we’d like to gather evidence from your office.”

  “Certainly.” She turned to Nick with an unmistakable question poised on the tip of her tongue.

  “I’m sorry. I’d come with you if I could, but Coach has us scheduled for a light practice today.” He hated disappointing her, but there was no way Coach would let him off in the middle of their play-off run.

  “Right. What about after?”

  He smiled so widely, his cheeks felt like they were about to burst. “I’ll come straight over.”

  “Great. We still have to talk about your contract.”

  He faltered for a moment, but his optimism was already too powerful to reel in. Tonight they were going to talk about a hell of a lot more than just his contract.

  27

  Practice should have gone a hell of a lot better than it did. The Vipers had gone from middle-of-the-road to unstoppable in the last few weeks, dominating the play-offs. There was no reason for petty squabbles and tension between the players. No reason for Coach Phillips to storm off in a fit because they couldn’t get their act together for a simple scrimmage.

  No reason, but there was a clear, unmistakable cause. Sebastian Liakos was in a bad mood and wanted everyone to know. He’d been criticizing Mike’s technique all afternoon, as though he knew anything about goaltending, and he’d dared to tell Luke that his hat trick in the third game against Ottawa had been nothing but a fluke. But most of Liakos’s ire was directly squarely at Nick.

  Hell, if anything, Nick was the one who had a reason to want to punch the kid again. Liakos was a creep and Nick knew just how far his violent, asshole tendencies reached. Liakos had left him and most of the other guys alone these last few weeks. Nick had even started to wonder if nearly getting ratted out to the team’s admin had scared some sense into him.

  But the one day Nick had finally shown up in a good mood, thanks to seeing Jillian again, the kid decided to piss all over the place like a big black cloud. If they couldn’t pull it together soon, the Vipers would lose their hard-won momentum. Lose their chance at the Cup.

  Somehow, none of that mattered the moment he stepped in front of Jillian’s door hours later. All he cared about now was seeing her again. Convincing her that there was a way to make things work between them.

  She answered within seconds of his first knock, like she was waiting for him. “Great, you’re here. I was just going over the behavioral clause in your contract.”

  Well, shit. Maybe she was serious about only wanting to talk business. The fact that she’d changed from her casual weekend clothes to a severe, businesslike skirt and sweater was a clear sign. He dropped his hand, letting the small bouquet of flowers he’d picked up on the way over hang by his side.

  Her eyes caught the slight movement and widened. “You brought me flowers?”

  He nodded and handed them over.

  Her lips twisted into an inscrutable expression. “Gardenias?”

  “Of course.” He stepped in closer and she backed into the doorframe, looking up at him with her big golden eyes. The air around them crackled.

  He studied her face for any hint of reaction. Finally the corners of her lips tipped upward—a subtle, sad smile, but it was better than he could have hoped for. “You remembered,” she whispered.

  Dammit. Now her lip was trembling. This couldn’t be good. “Wrong color?”

  “No, it’s just . . . Oh, what the hell.” She sighed and threw her arms around his neck, dragging him down for a kiss—the kind that pulled the oxygen from his brain and made him dizzy with need. The sweet flavor of her lips electrified his tongue.

  God, he’d missed this. Missed her.

  Too impatient to waste any time, he sank one hand down to the round globe of her ass and buried the other in her hair, tugging her head back to deepen the kiss. He kicked the door closed behind them and walked her into her apartment. He didn’t care where they ended up after that. Bed. Couch. Floor. As long as there was a flat surface where he could get her naked and on her back.

  She yelped when they stumbled into her small hallway table, knocking one of the decorative candles onto the floor. He spun her around and maneuvered her to the living room, working his mouth across her jaw, down to the spot on her neck that always made her knees so weak she would cling to him for support. She moaned and arched into him like a cat. His cock hardened into hot steel. He grabbed her butt and hoisted her up, pressing his length against her. The move set her off balance and she wrapped her arms around his neck more tightly, smacking him in the face with the flowers.

  “Oomph.” He let her feet slide to the ground and brushed the stray white petals from his beard.

  “Sorry! I guess I should get these into water.”

  He kept his arms around her waist, unwilling to let her go. “It can wait.”

  She winced. “These are beautiful, and I don’t want them to wilt if we get . . . distracted.”

  “All right, go.” The sweet smile she gave him nearly knocked him on his ass. There was no denying the flowers would be the last thing on either of their minds for the next twenty-four hours if he had his way.

  He followed her to the little kitchen, where she filled a vase with water and pulled a pair of scissors from one of the drawers. He gathered her hair off her nape and lavished her elegant neck with his tongue, kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin until he felt her bones melt.

  “You’re distracting me,” she said, half moan, half chastisement, as she cut through the sheer plastic wrap.

  “So punish me.” He nipped at the junction of her neck and shoulder. Her stomach clenched beneath his palm.

  “You might not want to say that to a woman currently holding a sharp object.” She sliced off the bottoms of the stems with a snick.

  He took the flowers from her hand and shoved them into the vase. “Maybe I like it when you’re feisty.” He spun her around, carefully removed the scissors from her grip, and set them on the counter.

  “You like anything when I’m naked.”

  He cupped her cheek and shook his head. “I like anything when I’m with you. Naked or not. You mean everything to me. I need you to know that.”

  She sucked in a breath, like the sudden change in atmosphere made it hard for her to breathe. “We still need to talk. About everything. There’s so much I have to tell you.”

  “Yeah, we do. Are you ready for that now?”

  Lust darkened her hazel eyes. “No. Right now I just need you.”

  That conversation had to happen, but he was grateful to put it off a little longer. It had been so long since he’d been able to touch her. He didn’t trust his own words to express what he wanted her to know in this moment. Better to show her how much he missed her. Needed her. Cherished everything about her. He worked open the top buttons of her shirt with careful precision, kissing the newly revealed patches of skin.

  He slid the soft silk off her shoulders and took a moment to admire the way the deep burgundy lace cups of her bra seemed to proffer her exquisite breasts to him. She took advantage of his pause to curl her fingers into the hem of his T-shirt and yank it upward.

  “Hold on. I need to look at you.”

  A pink flush streaked across her chest and neck. “And I need to taste you.”

  She licked her lips and his cock strained painfully, needing freedom from the restricting denim of his jeans. His pathetically thin facade of control evaporated like water on hot tarmac. He growled and tossed her right over his shoulder, carrying her caveman-style to her bedroom.<
br />
  Laughter pealed from her chest, reassuring him she wasn’t angered by the brute move. He took more care lowering her onto the teal bedspread, fanning her hair around her head like a golden halo. She reached for his fly, but he caught her wrist and halted her, causing a sweet pout to form at her lips.

  He let her go to unzip his fly and unleash his cock, easing some of the unbearable ache with a quick stroke from root to tip. Her coy expression vanished, leaving only raw desire on her face. He squeezed himself tighter and stroked once more, only able to keep his eyes open as the wave of desperate relief hit him because he was transfixed by the jagged rise and fall of her chest as she watched him.

  He tilted his head down and took a step closer. “You like this?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. Now strip.”

  If there were any lingering traces of stress inside Jillian’s body after finding out her privacy had been violated by Parsons and spending the day watching the police tear apart her office, they were annihilated by the sight of Nick’s fist wrapped around his thick, heavy shaft. Every drop of moisture in her mouth and functioning cell in her brain had disappeared as well. The only thing governing her now was his gravelly, commanding voice.

  She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra.

  “Slowly,” Nick drawled.

  She peeled the straps down her shoulders with as much patience as she could muster, even though her skin was blazing with need for his touch. Her skirt was next, then her panties. He rewarded her for every item removed with another pump.

  She rose up on her knees and replaced his hand with hers around his length. “Your turn.” Her fingers were so much smaller than his, her grip less firm, but he shuddered when she mimicked his twisting stroke.

  He pulled his T-shirt over his head and cast it to the ground, and she licked the salty, glistening bead that formed at the tip. His groan was so sensual, she had to squeeze her thighs together. Everything about him overwhelmed her. His taste. His smell. The way he looked at her like she was the only woman in the world. How had she denied herself this for the last few weeks? How had she ever denied him?

  He kicked off his pants and boxers like they were on fire and pushed her back against the mattress before she could take him deep in her mouth like she craved. He crawled on top of her, burying his face against her neck. “I missed you.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Don’t be. Not right now. Not when you’re finally with me again.” He kissed a line down her neck and collarbone before drawing her breast into his mouth. It felt so good, she dug her hands into his hair to keep him there and arched into him. His hand ran up and down her curves, flooding her with sensations before gripping the inside of her thigh and spreading her legs wide. He moved his lips to her sternum, leaving her tight nipples tingling and bereft. But each slow, wet kiss along her skin unearthed new sensations and ratcheted up her anticipation as he moved lower down her body.

  “Please, don’t stop,” she begged. She didn’t even know if she meant the way he was touching her or the way he was cherishing her. Savoring her.

  “Never.” He nipped at her hip bone, then circled his thumb over the love bite. She was still processing that wickedly arousing sting when he buried his face between her thighs, making her scream. His tongue was no longer gentle or teasing. He licked and sucked her most sensitive spot without mercy, using every trick and technique he’d mastered over the last few months to rip the thundering orgasm from her.

  She screamed and twisted beneath him as wave after wave of sensation blasted through her. He pulled back just before the searing pleasure edged into pain, and flashed her a cocky, satisfied grin.

  It was the kind of challenge she couldn’t resist. She wrapped her hand around his erection. “On your back.”

  He curled his arms around her and rolled over so she was straddling his powerful thighs. His cock jutted upward, regal and hungry. She bent to take him in her mouth.

  He brushed her hair around her ear. “Not tonight.”

  “But—”

  “I need to be inside you.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Okay.” She crawled forward to grab a condom from her nightstand and rolled it down his erection. He gripped her waist and guided her on top of him, sinking his cock so deep inside her it felt like she would burst. She rotated her hips slowly at first, getting used to the angle, but even the slightest tilt of her pelvis elicited sexy, husky sounds from his throat.

  She pressed her hands into his chest and picked up the pace, feeling another orgasm start to climb inside her almost instantly. Instinct forced her chest down to his, making his cock fill her more completely than she’d ever thought possible. Even a microscopic distance between them was too much. He took hold of her hips and thrust into her, tearing a delicious scream from her lips. He rocked his pelvis up like a piston, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

  Her body was trembling with need, but it didn’t matter because he enveloped her with his strong arms and smothered her cries with his mouth when the sweet ecstasy shattered her into a million pieces. He came moments later with a deep groan against her lips.

  She collapsed on top of him, exhausted and achy in the most wonderful way. Their chests rose and fell in perfect rhythm, their breaths mingling as he stroked her spine. It felt so good, she closed her eyes, feeling sleep tug at her tired body.

  “Jillian,” he whispered in her ear.

  Her eyes flashed open. Judging by his bemused expression, he’d probably made more than one attempt to get her attention while she drifted off. “Sorry, it’s been a crazy day, to say the least.”

  “I’ll let you rest soon enough, Sleeping Beauty, but there’s a conversation we need to finish first.”

  “Do I have to move?” she asked with a pout. His body was like a furnace beneath her.

  “I’d prefer if you didn’t. In fact, I’d be happier if we never had to get out of this bed, but that’s what we need to talk about.”

  She stiffened, remembering just how much was still unsaid between them, and rolled off him to find the robe in her closet. She couldn’t have this conversation lying naked against him. She pulled the soft silk over her body and knotted the sash around her stomach while he padded to the bathroom to clean up, giving her some much-needed space to think.

  He came back into her bedroom a few moments later, still unabashedly naked, and sat on the edge of the bed. “I know you were upset that being with me damaged your professional reputation and got you kicked out of the Association. But after Parsons’s arrest, that’s going to be old news. I need to know if that changes anything between us or if this was one last hurrah for you.”

  She crossed her arms and tried to think of how to explain things in a way he’d understand. A way that wouldn’t make him resent her.

  He frowned at her hesitation. “We’re good together. More than good, and we can fix whatever went wrong. I love you, Jillian.”

  She sucked in a breath. “It’s not that simple.”

  28

  It’s not that simple.

  The words ricocheted in Nick’s head like a gunshot, suffocating his lungs with raging steam. “How can it be anything but simple? Either you want to be with me or not. You can’t keep pretending this doesn’t mean anything just because you’re scared of letting me in.”

  She flinched from the jagged anger lacing his voice and fidgeted with the stupid sash at her waist, like she was nervous. As though he hadn’t just seen and tasted every inch of her body. “I want to explain.”

  His temper snapped. “I’m done with excuses. I just told you I’m in love with you. Either you feel the same or you don’t. Yes or no.” He grabbed his pants from the floor and yanked them on.

  “Wait,” she cried out as he turned for the door. She chased after him and curled her fingers around his bicep. “There ar
e things we need to figure out. Big things. It’s not going to be easy.”

  He pulled her into his arms, unable to hold on to his earlier frustration when she let so much vulnerability seep into her voice. “I should have come up with a better grand gesture,” he muttered.

  She pulled back to look up at him with a bemused expression. “What?”

  He rested his chin on the top of her head. “Ben said I needed some kind of grand gesture to convince you that the only thing that matters is how we feel about each other. Everything else will fall into place. I hired this big-name interior designer to redo your office. See?” He dug his phone out of his pocket to show her the mock-up images. “That’s why I made the copy of the key to your office and snuck in that day I found Parsons’s bug. I wanted to surprise you and show you that you can let me in, let me help you out sometimes, and still be the fierce, independent woman I fell in love with. But everything got sidetracked with the investigation, and I didn’t have time to come up with another grand gesture.”

  She took the phone from his hands and scrolled through the images. A strange mewling sound escaped her lips—one that gave him no indication whether she was happy or sad. Then she started laughing. At least, he assumed the hysterical sound was laughter, but the tears streaking down her face made him doubt himself.

  “You don’t like it?” Her unpredictable reactions were making him feel like a Ping-Pong ball being paddled back and forth. The designer had assured him the clean white look with delicate, ornate antique furniture and teal and gold accent pieces would win her over. It had made sense at the time, but now he was starting to wonder if he really understood Jillian at all.