Kane (Face-Off Series Book 2)

by Jillian Quinn

  He lowers his head, avoiding direct eye contact with me. “It’s a long story.”

  I run my thumb across his skin and grip his hand. “I have time.”

  He glances over his shoulder to scan the coffee shop. “Can we do this somewhere more private?”

  “I don’t live far from here. How about my apartment?”

  He nods. “That’s perfect.”

  After I make a pot of coffee and pour us each a cup, I set the mugs down on the coffee table in the living room in front of Tyler and take a seat next to him.

  “I don’t know if I’m ready…” He stops for a second to collect his thoughts before locking onto me. “But I will try to tell you everything.”

  I clamp down on his arm, all too aware of how tight his biceps feel beneath my fingers. “We don’t have to do this.”

  “No, I want to, believe me, I do. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep this part of my life private, never allowing anyone to get too close out of fear they will run to the news and blab their mouth? You already know the truth, so there’s no point in trying to pretend that you are wrong.”

  Holding my other hand up to my heart, I say, “I won’t tell a soul. I promise.”

  “I know.” He smiles but only for a second before it’s replaced by a frown. “We were seventeen when Payton got pregnant. The first time I saw her,” the corners of his mouth turn up as he speaks about her, “I was a goner. She was pretty, smart, funny, and knew all the right things to say. I was an awkward, lanky kid at the time. I was shocked when she agreed to go out with me. Over time, I had grown into my body and made the varsity hockey team, but she gave me a chance before I was the Tyler Kane everyone knows now. She was the love of my life. Everyone loved her. I had all of my firsts with Payton.”

  Tyler leans back and into the wall of couch pillows, taking a second to suck in a deep breath and let it out before he continues. “My parents flipped out when Payton and I told them she was pregnant. They wanted Payton to have an abortion. I wanted her to keep the baby, but I had no idea how I would raise a child without an income. My dad said if we decided to raise Blake that I was out on the street. His focus was on my hockey career, and he wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of me going pro. The funny thing is he changed his mind after Blake was born, but it was too late by the time he had come around.”

  “Payton’s parents are the devout Catholic type that goes to church every weekend. They were against abortion and wanted Payton and me to give Blake up for adoption. After she started to show, her parents sent her to live with her grandparents in New York. That was how we found the Hudsons. For the last five months of her pregnancy, Payton lived down the street from Blake’s adoptive parents. She would go for walks around the neighborhood with her grandmother and talk to the neighbors, and when Payton found out the Hudsons had been trying to have a baby for three years without any luck, she asked them if they were looking into adoption.”

  “Britt and Steve Hudson went to all of Payton’s doctor's appointments. Britt was even her partner in her Lamaze classes. They are good people, the best. As much as I didn’t want to give Blake up for adoption, I knew they were the right fit for my son. I wasn’t in the mental or financial position to take care of a baby, and Payton’s family wanted her to have a future that didn’t involve me.”

  “How come you went with an open adoption?” I try to be as delicate as possible with my questions. “I’m just surprised that you never missed a visit with Blake in over eight years.”

  His facial expression matches the pain behind his eyes, all of his emotions running through them at once. I am numb from his story, mostly because I am having a hard time processing the information, but I also feel so much anxiety and anguish knotting my stomach from his revelation. I cannot even imagine what it must be like for Tyler.

  “I thought that if I worked hard enough and made it pro that I would be able to get Blake back. I guess I didn’t understand how an open adoption worked. But I’m glad we went that route because I couldn’t live with myself knowing my son was out there and I didn’t do everything in my power to see him.”

  “And Payton…she still goes every month with you and your parents.”

  “Yeah, she brings her son with her to play with Blake. Sometimes her husband comes with them.” He leans his head back against the couch and stares up at the ceiling, clutching my hand. “I hate seeing them together and happy. We were supposed to be together as a family. That’s what I had planned for us before I realized how wrong I was about the adoption process. Payton and I stayed together through the NHL Draft and mid-way into my first year with the Flyers, but we had grown too much apart over Blake. A part of me resented her for being able to give away our son and move on with her life when I was not able to do the same thing. I still resent her for it because I cannot let go of the past.”

  “You still love her, don’t you?” I ask the question even though I already know the answer from the way he speaks about her.

  “She’s the only girl I have ever been in love with. I wish I didn’t feel a thing for her because it would make this situation between us a lot easier, but I can’t deny the fact that she stills holds onto a piece of me and our life that we shared together for so many years.”

  I scoot closer to him on the couch, our mouths so close, inches apart. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Tyler.”

  He breathes against my lips and rubs my jaw with his calloused thumb as he cradles my face in his big hand. “Thank you for listening without judging me.”

  “Of course,” I whisper, the tension between us burning like a lit match.

  “You’re beautiful, Kennedy.” His words fill me with so much happiness. “It’s been a long time since I felt anything for a woman, but you…”

  “I’m different,” I add, thinking of how many times I have heard this from a man and want to roll my eyes.

  “No, I wouldn’t say that at all. You’re interesting and smart, you always make me laugh, and when I’m around you, I can talk to you, be open about my life. I don’t have my wall up around you, which is nice because I am so used to shielding myself from people, forced to keep my secrets to myself. It’s not easy being two different people.”

  “I like the real Tyler Kane much better than the hockey player—”

  Before I can finish the sentence, Tyler’s lips crash against mine, and his tongue slips inside my mouth as he pulls my head closer, stroking my cheek the entire time, as he deepens the kiss. Without breaking away from him, I climb onto his lap, my knees digging into the couch and my thighs molding around his. He doesn’t waste time removing my shirt and bra. My clothes hit something on the table behind me with a thud, but neither of us stops to find out what fell over.

  Taking his time, he sucks and nibbles on my nipple while massaging my other breast with his big hand. On some level, I think this is wrong. We were just talking about his child and his ex, but what Tyler is doing with his mouth is making me dripping wet, and it feels too good to stop. He needs to work through his pain and anger about the past. Maybe I can be the person to help him.

  Feeling beneath his fitted shirt, my hands travel over his sculpted stomach, and my fingers work on getting the button of his jeans open so I can slide my hand through the slit in his boxers. He stops kissing me long enough to remove his shirt and lift his hips to push his pants and boxers down far enough that I can grab ahold of his giant cock with both hands. My hands seem so small in comparison, and with each stroke, I pick up my pace, now getting the hang of how fast he likes it.

  “I want to come in your mouth,” he groans, his head titled back against the couch cushion and his hand clutching my waist.

  I slide off him and onto the sofa, getting on my knees as I lean over him, still stroking his cock as I lower my mouth and lick the tip. As my tongue glides along his sensitive skin, he makes a hissing noise that almost sounds painful but is so fucking hot I can feel my juices slide down my thigh.

  Fitting him
in my mouth is always a challenge because it’s not just his length that is overwhelming. But I do my best to trick him into thinking I have all of him in my mouth, rubbing the tip against the roof of my mouth to give him the same satisfaction without having to check my gag reflex. Sydney once wrote an article on how to give a proper blow job, and since she’s far more experienced than me, I learned this little trick from her.

  Tyler twists some of my hair through his fingers, holding my head in place, damn near ripping a chunk out, as he comes in my mouth. There’s something about the noises a man makes when he comes that I swear is hotter than the act itself. Not all men have the same reaction, some are what Sydney and I call silent cummers, but Tyler…Oh, my God, this man is hot as puck.

  I barely have enough time to swallow before his hands are on me again. He pushes me onto the couch, my back landing flat against a pillow. After removing his shoes and pants, naked and looking like a fucking sex god, he climbs on top of me, separating my thighs with his hand. The skirt I have on allows him easy access.

  “You’re wearing something normal today,” he says with a smirk. “I like this skirt, but I like you better out of it.”

  He slides the material up my legs and peels back my panties, tugging at the lace until I hear them tear.

  I frown because he just ruined La Perla lingerie. “Hey, those were expensive.” My voice is playful though somewhat irritated.

  “I’ll buy you new ones,” he says, this time pulling hard enough to rip them off me. “I’ll buy you a whole fucking lingerie store if that means getting these off so I can fuck you.”

  I laugh and wrap my legs around his back. “Roxie isn’t here to get in the way this time.”

  A smile stretches across his handsome face. “Nope. You’re pussy is mine now, and no one is getting in the way.”

  He leans over the side of the couch and reaches into the pocket of his pants to retrieve a condom. Without wasting time, he opens the foil packet and rolls the latex down his length, positing himself between my legs. My body tenses for a second, nervous in anticipation of his giant cock. Most of the men I have had sex with were average or slightly above the norm. But Tyler is so big I wonder if it will even fit.

  He eases into me slowly, giving me a few seconds to adjust to his size. More like I need a few minutes because he barely has it in and I’m already in pain.

  “You okay?” he asks after I bite down on my lip and close my eyes.

  I open my eyes and nod, digging my heel into his back. “Yesss,” I purr. “Please, don’t stop.”

  As he slides in and out of me, careful not to hurt me, I get used to him, and with some of the pain comes intense pleasure. Tyler picks up the pace, his movements so in sync as he grips my hips and fucks me. He really fucks me, hard and fast. This time, he doesn’t wait for me to give him the go ahead, and I don’t need it.

  “Tyler,” I moan, scratching my nails down his arms.

  “That’s it, babe. Come for me,” he says, his voice soft.

  No problem.

  With a firm grip, he lifts my legs over his shoulders and pushes further inside me. This. Feels. So. Good. I don’t want him to stop. Ever. My insides clench, a brush of heat spreading from my cheeks to my toes, as my moans turn into screams and an intense orgasm rocks through me, commanding control over my body. I have come undone.

  Tyler has crazy fucking stamina—not that I am the least bit surprised with him being a pro athlete. He pumps faster, the sweat trickling down his forehead with each thrust, dripping onto my leg as he kisses my skin. We lock eyes, another earth-shattering orgasm brewing within, and when he starts to groan, his facial expression changes, a look so sexy I come again.

  His body trembles one last time before he leans down to kiss me, slow and passionate as if we had made love instead of fucked. After he leaves a trail of kisses along my chest, he slides out of me. I have no doubt I will be sore in the morning after all the hammering he did between my legs.

  Tyler heads to the bathroom, naked and glistening with sweat, his toned body perfection in every way. I could admire him all day. Not until he saunters back into the room with a bright smile on his face does it register that I just fucked Tyler Kane. I have a slight fangirl moment because…I just had sex with Tyler Kane, the highest paid player in the NHL.

  I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I have been a fan of his since his first year in the league, and as a hometown boy, he has gotten a lot more attention around here than other players. And he deserves it. He’s hands-down the most talented center in the NHL, outscores all of the people who play his position, and is by far, one of the fastest and most dominating skaters on the ice.

  And he just wrecked my pussy, took charge of my body and fucking destroyed me. I loved it, loved every second of him taking what he wanted. I need more. But he has other plans, stepping into his boxers and jeans, flashing me an evil grin as he dresses.

  I feel so exposed and shove my skirt back down over my thighs, then search for my bra and shirt. I find them on the coffee table, soaked in coffee because they landed right in our mugs.

  “Stay like that,” Tyler says after he slips his shirt over his head and tugs it down his torso. “I want to remember this for later.”

  I laugh, about to get up from the couch when he plops down next to me, hugging me against his chest. “I want to see you again. I thought I could give you a tour of the Wells Fargo Center this week. I’ll call Mike in the morning to schedule a meeting with him so you can get all the info you want on the trades. Sound good?”

  “Yeah, that would be awesome. Thank you, Tyler.”

  “It’s a date then.” He says, confident and with a wicked smile that matches mine.

  “Yep, it’s a date.”

  I am going on a date with Tyler Kane. A small part of me giggles and squeals with delight, but I try to hide my excitement from Tyler. I can have my fangirl moment later with Sydney.

  Chapter Twelve

  TYLER

  As we walk through the Wells Fargo Center, Kennedy is glowing from her excitement, a childish grin plastered on her face as she checks out every hallway and opening in the damn place. She reminds me of Blake the first time I had taken him here to see where Uncle Tyler plays hockey. Kennedy is a real sports fan, not just a girl who studied communications and somehow fell into sports reporting because she couldn’t land her dream job.

  She knows hockey almost as well as me, which turns me on. A woman who likes sports is not hard to find but one who speaks your language, understands the meaning of icing and doesn’t think it’s something that you find on top of a cake is a fucking keeper in my book. The models I briefly dated were the worst, clueless about sports and too high maintenance.

  Puck bunnies only want to suck my dick because I’m a famous hockey player. I swear they get a thrill out of it, and while I will never understand the fascination, there is no shortage of women lining up to take the next girl’s place.

  But Kennedy is different. She knows who I am, understands there is more to me than a hockey player with a big dick. Of course, that part of me Kennedy loves. She showed me how much she loved it in her apartment right before we left to meet Mike Turner, the Flyers general manager.

  I setup a meeting with Mike who had spent over an hour with us going over every trade the Flyers had made in the last year. Of course, Alex Parker came up about a thousand times, his mid-season addition to the team something I had helped my agent work on after Parker was balls deep in another puck bunny scandal and found his ass on the chopping block.

  The Capitals loss was our gain because Parker is hands-down the best defenseman in the league, and he works well with our line. Now, if only we could get the rest of the team to step up their game and earn their salaries. We were never the team with the best stats but we sure as hell have the most heart. It’s a shame there’s not enough talent to back it up.

  Before our meeting, I had given Kennedy the VIP treatment, let her snap about a thousand pictures for her p
aper, and told her as much about the Flyers organization as I know. I had planned for us to skate for an hour before we have to leave to make our reservations at an Italian restaurant that offers more privacy than other places in the city. Parker had Donovan and me meet him at Luciano’s when he came up with an idea of how to get Coach back. His plan worked, and I ate one of the best meals of my life, all while plotting Operation Get Coach Back. That place seems to be a good luck charm, so that’s where I am taking Kennedy.

  The stadium is vacant, with only a few people scattered throughout, doing menial errands for upper management and setting up for tomorrow’s event. I run into the locker room for a minute to retrieve my skates from my locker and jog back down the long hall where I left Kennedy.

  She has her back flat against the wall, the bottom of her shoe pressed into the painted cinderblock, as she stares down at her cell phone, scrolling through her feed.

  “Ready, babe?” I call out, loud enough for her to hear me and look up at her screen.

  She picks her skates up from the floor, slings them over her shoulder, and stuffs her phone back into her purse. “Yeah, let’s do this. It’s been a few years since I skated so keep that in mind. I am rusty as fuck and will fall at least a few times unless you hold onto me.”

  “I’m glad you know how to skate,” I say, steering her away from the locker room and down the long hall that leads to the rink. “But we don’t need you falling on your ass and breaking something.”

  She blows out a puff of air. “Please, Tyler, give me some credit. I can balance my weight on the skates. Just don’t expect me to make any figure skater moves and we’ll be fine.”

  I stop her before we get to the rink entrance and have her sit down with me on the ground to put on her skates. Having done this more times than I can count over the years, I get mine on and laced up in record timing. Kennedy fumbles with the strings, so I take the reigns and help her lace them up.

  “Here,” I say, offering her my hand as I push myself up to stand on my skates.