Seduced by the Game

by editor Lisa Hollett

  By the final buzzer, Scott’s line as a whole had eight points, three of them Scott’s with a goal and two assists. It didn’t really matter in an All-Star Game, but every guy in both locker rooms was a competitive SOB. Guys who’d make it this far in the league didn’t just dislike losing, they hated it. Absolutely loathed the entire concept. Fortunately, on this night, his team came out the winner and the atmosphere in the locker room was jovial and jubilant.

  He quickly stripped off and showered, then got back into his favorite dark blue wool suit. A lot of the guys hated wearing suits to games, but Scott didn’t mind. Sure, he was no accountant or lawyer or anything, but he was a professional in his own right and in his opinion shouldn’t be any more willing to come to work in shorts and flip-flops than any of them.

  The media had been allowed into the room by the time he finished dressing in the players’ private area, along with the families and various other VIP types. The beat reporter from New York Newsday pushed his way through the throngs.

  “Great game, Scott! Can you tell us about your linemates tonight?” He thrust his microphone in Scott’s face, but Scott was so used to it he didn’t even flinch.

  “It’s a bunch of talented guys here, that’s for sure,” he began, knowing they wouldn’t expect more from him than a couple of platitudes. After all, these guys would be his opponents when he went back over the bridge to New York. He was glad he’d hired a car to take him to and from the arena in Newark. It was a rough area and no way would he trust his BMW around here.

  “Do you like the new format of the All-Star Game?”

  “Eastern Conference versus Western Conference makes perfect sense to me. I never quite got North America versus the world. But I’m sure the league always has their reasons for why they do things. I just come here to have fun and play hockey.”

  Scott was rolling his eyes to himself at the ridiculous words, but on the outside, he flashed a smile and turned to another reporter. Several others asked him questions, mostly along the same vein, and though he answered each patiently, Scott started to get a little antsy. Didn’t they listen to the answers he gave the other guys?

  Then he spotted her. A wave of heat hit him like a freight train and he ran a hand over his face. God, she’s gorgeous. Clad in a pair of skinny jeans with boots and a jersey – wait – a jersey? Scott looked again. Yes, a Sutton jersey. One of his teammates for the All-Star Game, but normally an archrival considering he played in New Jersey and Scott played in New York. What was this girl to him? A wife? That would be a total bummer.

  He looked again. No, there was another woman standing closer to him, also wearing a jersey. Her body language made it apparent she was with Sutton.

  Getting his stallmate’s attention, Scott jerked his head toward the small group. “Any idea who the woman is? The one in the skinny jeans?”

  The other man, who played with Sutton in New Jersey, craned his neck to see over the throngs of media and family. “Yeah, that’s Sutton’s sister-in-law. The other chick is his wife. They’re fraternal twins or some shit.”

  Scott laughed. Hockey players were nothing if not eloquent in their speech. “Have you ever met her? The sister-in-law, not the wife.”

  “Yeah, she’s come around after games a couple of times.”

  “Can you introduce me?”

  “Why don’t you just go over there yourself?”

  “It’d be way too obvious.”

  “What, and me bringing you to them wouldn’t be?” Scott huffed out a breath. “All right, all right, keep your panties on. I just need to do my tie. Beat guys wouldn’t even let me finish tying it before they started with the questions.”

  He waited, shifting from foot to foot. Scott knew he looked pretty good in his dress-up duds. Hopefully this sister-in-law would agree.

  Glancing up again, he watched her throw her head back and laugh, exposing the slim column of her neck. An image of him scoring over those tendons with his teeth flashed into his mind and his dick began to harden.

  Not a good time for that.

  Surreptitiously he pushed on the front of his slacks, willing his erection down. She’d probably run away screaming if he lumbered over there with a huge hard-on. Scott wasn’t a small guy anywhere, and when erect, his cock stretched over seven inches and was as thick as many women’s wrists. He didn’t brag about his bedroom encounters, especially since in actuality they were few and far between, but he had never left a woman unsatisfied. At that moment he was profoundly grateful for long suit coats.

  He continued to watch her. The woman’s expression was open and friendly, and Scott found himself thinking about doing other things with her, like walking down Fifth Avenue looking in all the fancy store windows, hanging out in Central Park on a warm summer day, or driving out to his place in the Hamptons for a long weekend.

  Scott knew he was getting way ahead of himself, but his gut was screaming that he needed to meet this woman. He didn’t believe in love at first sight or anything – who did? – but this woman fired up his blood.

  * * * *

  Hannah had a weird feeling someone was watching her, but refused to turn around. If no one was, she’d feel like an idiot. She waited a few minutes and the feeling persisted, even stronger. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck. What was going on?

  This part of New Jersey’s locker room usually didn’t have many hockey jocks wandering around naked, but there was always the show-off, proud of his body and willing to display it no matter who was around. By this time most players were showered and out of their uniforms, most now clad in all manner of expensive suits. Tammi had wanted to congratulate her hubby Darren Sutton on his game and participation in the All-Stars, so Hannah had come along.

  They were talking and hugging, so Hannah’s attention wandered and she cast a careful eye around the room, hoping to get a sideways glance at whomever or whatever was causing this weird feeling. She shuddered.

  Then, out of the corner of one eye, she got a glimpse of the guy who she knew instantly was the culprit. And he was still staring. Their gazes caught. A smile curled his lips in a lascivious grin and he winked at her. Winked? Did guys do that anymore?

  He started to move toward her so she quickly swiveled her head back to face Tammi and Darren. Get me outta here, she silently pleaded. She did not want to attract the attention of a hockey jock. Hannah had heard too many stories about the antics of the players from Tammi. And besides, they traveled all the time and you were left at home worrying about them, like Tammi did whenever Darren was away. No thanks.

  “Uh, are we about done here?”

  “What?” Tammi turned to her. “Got somewhere to go?”

  “No, but…”

  “We were just talking about going out somewhere for a drink. Want to join us?”

  “Oh, I don’t want to intrude.”

  “You wouldn’t be.”

  Hannah recognized Anton Dakarov, who played with Darren for New Jersey, when he approached with – oh, shit – the winker, as they sauntered up. Darren introduced them. “Tammi and Hannah, meet Scott Richards and Anton Darkarov. Gentlemen, and I use that term loosely—Tammi, my wife, and Hannah, my sister-in-law.” He turned to Tammi. “You know Anton, of course. Scott plays for New York, the bum.”

  Turning to face Scott, Hannah got her first good, full-on look at him and her stomach dropped a good foot. Oh, my God. He’s gorgeous. Those hockey helmets hid a lot of a guy’s face and she’d had no idea he was so striking.

  There he stood, though, hotter than hell in a dark blue suit that probably cost more than her entire wardrobe, eyes sparkling at her as if she were a platter of steak and he was a starving man.

  Hockey was Tammi’s world, what with having a hockey player for a husband and all. Hannah and hockey, though? Especially hockey men? Nada. Nothing. No way, Jose. That life was crazy and one she’d never envied Tammi for. Well, except for her unlimited clothing and latte budget. She looked down, planning a strategic exit, but Tammi’s arm
swung around her shoulders.

  Darren spoke, obviously addressing the two men. “We were thinking about going out for a drink. Obviously there’s nothing right around here, but we could go into the city. Maybe you can point us somewhere, Scott.”

  “Sure.”

  She looked up in time to see the evil grin spreading over her twin’s face. “That would be my husband’s obtuse way of inviting both of you along, in case you didn’t get that.”

  Scott threw his head back and laughed. Wow. I didn’t think he could get hotter.

  “I can’t,” Anton said. “Gotta get back to the wife. The baby’s not sleeping and so neither is she. I promised I’d stay up with the little bugger tonight.”

  “I’ll tag along. After all, we’re not archenemies again until tomorrow.” Scott looked over at her as if to assess her reaction.

  Now Tammi turned to her too. “See? Everyone’s going. Well, except Anton, but he’s got an excuse. Come on, Hannah. You never have fun anymore. Have drinks with us.”

  Oh, thank you, Tammi, for telling this strange guy with his eyes glued to me like scent on a gardenia that I need to get out more. Thanks a bunch. To prove her twin wrong that she was boring, she flashed a brilliant smile and said, “Sure. Sounds like fun.”

  Having a drink with a hot guy isn’t the worst way to spend the rest of my night, even if I have no intention of it going beyond that.

  Fifteen minutes later, they were heading out the player’s entrance of the arena, Tammi and Darren in front, holding hands and she and Scott behind, he with his hand on the small of her back. They had to stop and sign some autographs, most of them flocking to Scott. He was good-natured about it, taking time to sign each and every jersey, program, and diary.

  The piano club they went to was small and cozy, and she breathed a sigh of relief that the men hadn’t opted for one of those loud, glitzy clubs where you couldn’t hear yourself think. The men ordered beers and burgers, and she and Tammi decided to split an order of fries to go with their wine.

  After everyone was finally full, Scott flashed a killer smile and her stomach fell—again. This was ridiculous. She wasn’t crazy over hockey players like a lot of women. Sure, Darren was okay, but from what she’d seen, he wasn’t typical. When she looked into Scott’s green eyes and saw the sexy, hot glint of interest in them, though, her heart beat faster and suddenly nothing mattered.

  Scott reached over and ran his fingers over her wrist briefly. “So, are you a hockey fan?” He grinned again, seemingly confident of his prowess with women who loved the game.

  She pulled her hand back. “Uh, no. Not really. I don’t like all the fighting and hitting. It’s so Neanderthal.”

  “Neanderthal?” His eyebrow quirked. “Do I look like a caveman? No, wait. Don’t answer that. You might hurt my feelings.”

  Hannah smirked. “I’m guessing your ego can handle it.”

  Scott took her comments in stride, smoothly continuing. “If you don’t like hockey, why were you at the game?”

  “My sister.” She cocked her head in Tammi’s direction. “I got tired of hearing her whine about how much I’d love the game if I ever went to a few more games. The All-Star Game being here made it a good time to indulge her.”

  “Do you prefer the more relaxed version like tonight?”

  “A little. It wasn’t as violent.”

  “Easy, breezy hockey, huh?”

  “Something like that.”

  He was leaning toward her, blatantly showing interest and making her as nervous as she was turned on. And she was turned on. Her whole body felt over-warm and damp as if she had a fever. She’d never had a reaction this quickly to a man.

  Scott looked over his shoulder. “People are dancing. Wanna hit the dance floor?”

  Hannah glanced at her sister and Darren snuggling and smooching and then at Scott staring so intently at her as if he were willing her to say yes.

  I don’t want to lead this guy on. I shouldn’t say yes.

  “Okay.”

  Hey, brain, stop sabotaging!

  With a nod he grabbed her hand, pulling her onto the impromptu dance floor. Scott kept a grip on that hand while the other swung around her waist, pulling her in close. Too close. Hannah couldn’t think with him surrounding her.

  She’d told her sister more than a few times that she wasn’t interested in being set up with a hockey player, and now felt like Tammi had ambushed her. Despite that, she couldn’t be mad at Scott. It wasn’t his fault Tammi and Darren had conspired against her.

  “So what do you do for a living? Are you here in the city?”

  “I’m a graphic artist for a weekly magazine. Our offices are in the Village, but I live in Brooklyn.”

  “Ah. Very cool. I have absolutely no artistic talent.”

  Yeah, I’m getting your talents lie elsewhere.

  Hannah’s arms were around Scott’s neck, and she fought the urge to play with his hair to see if it was really as soft as it looked. But he’d gotten her out here against her better judgment, short-circuiting her brain-to-mouth functionality, and Hannah shouldn’t encourage the man further.

  “We should get back to Tammi and Darren.” She took a step away, dropping her hands to her sides.

  Scott glanced toward the two of them. “They don’t look like they want company.”

  When she followed his gaze, holding in an agonized groan took real willpower. Her sister was practically climbing her husband.

  Ugh, you’re in public. Show some decorum.

  “Maybe we should go break them up before they get arrested.”

  Shrugging, he answered, “They’re fine. It’s late, the lights are low. Lots of people are gettin’ busy.”

  “But–”

  “Are you hungry?”

  Hannah pivoted to face him fully. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Hungry.”

  “No.”

  “Thirsty?”

  “No.”

  Scott grinned. “Apparently I’m worse at this than I thought.”

  Eyes narrowing, she asked, “Worse at what?”

  “Getting you alone.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “I’m not like that.”

  Scott tilted his head. “Like what?”

  “One of those hockey groupies.”

  “That’s obvious,” he said with a chuckle, “since you told me you don’t like hockey players.”

  “I don’t–” Hannah huffed out a breath. “I’ve just seen and heard a lot of unsavory things about them from my sister.”

  “She seems to be doing okay.”

  “Well, like I said, Darren’s a good guy.”

  Leading her to the bar just off the dance floor, Scott then helped her onto a barstool and took one for himself. “And yet you assume I’m not.”

  “Why would you be? You’re rich, gorgeous…” she rolled her eyes when his face lit up, “and live in Manhattan – or at least I assume you do. You have the whole world at your fingertips.”

  “I do. But that doesn’t make me a playboy.” Scott scooted closer. “Look, give me a chance. Let me get to know you. Go out with me a few times. If you really don’t like me after you’ve given me a chance, I’ll leave you alone.”

  Hannah raised an eyebrow. “Classify a few times.”

  “Four.”

  “Two,” she countered.

  “Three.”

  “Fine, and tonight counts as one.”

  “Then I’d better make the most of it.” Leaning over, he gathered the back of her head in one large hand, and before she could even react, he was kissing her.

  Whoa, was he kissing her.

  That hand gripped her hair, moving her head to his liking as he deepened the kiss. Hannah opened for him, and with a moan she felt but couldn’t hear over the rushing noise in her ears, Scott pressed his tongue inside, playfully touching hers before retreating. She found herself chasing him back into his own mo
uth, and before she knew it, Scott had slid off his barstool and was standing between her spread knees, the other hand now joining the first on her head as he plundered her mouth.

  Warning bells were going off inside her head, and yet Hannah couldn’t seem to heed them.

  With a final gasp, Scott pulled away. “We need to get out of here.” His arms dropped and he took her hands in his. “Come back to my place.”

  Finally sense returned. “I don’t want to be a notch in your bedpost.”

  Scott released an obviously irritated breath. “Hannah, this really isn’t something I do every day. I can count on the fingers of one hand how many women I’ve had in my apartment in the last year. And no, that doesn’t mean there have been tons of other places. I actually don’t date very much. But there’s something about you. I can’t put my finger on what it is, exactly, but I want you.”

  Chapter Two

  Scott silently prayed Hannah would relent. If his cock got any harder, he was very much afraid there’d be permanent damage.

  She assessed him for a moment and he let her look. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said there weren’t very many women. Scott had learned early on that many women only wanted him for one of two things – to say they’d bedded a professional hockey player or to get their mitts on his money. He wasn’t interested in being a part of either.

  “All right. But if I put the brakes on at any time, I want you to respect that.”

  “Of course. Forcing a woman is not something I’d ever do. My mother and my four sisters taught me early on to respect women.”

  “Four sisters?”

  “Yeah, and a brother. He’s the baby of the family. I’m third, so right in the middle. Two girls older, two younger.”

  “Wow. Tammi and I are the only children my parents had. The delivery wasn’t easy on my mom and she couldn’t have more after that.”

  “But you guys had each other,” Scott said as he motioned to Darren, who’d looked up, that he was taking Hannah. The other man nodded and elbowed his wife, who sent Scott a beaming smile he was hoping Hannah hadn’t seen. “That must’ve been pretty cool.”