Playing His Part: A York Bombers Hockey Romance (The York Bombers Book 7)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  "Hey! Leach! You going to stare at your bride all night or you going to make introductions?"

  Ben dragged his gaze from Natalie then glared at Jason Emory. He didn't want to make introductions, didn't want any of the guys to meet Natalie or learn anything about her—or why they had married so quickly. But he didn't have a choice, not when they were already here.

  Not unless he actually did throw her over his shoulder and carry her out.

  He leaned back in the chair and stretched his legs out in front of him, acting like he didn't have a care in the world. Then he started the long process of introducing Natalie—his wife—to everyone on the team. And it damn near was everyone. Tonight, for some reason, everybody was here except the coaching staff.

  Ben almost laughed. For some reason? The reason they were here was sitting right next to him.

  Because they couldn't believe he got married.

  Because most of them had heard Nathan running his mouth in the locker room yesterday.

  Because this was nothing more than show-and-tell to most of them.

  For the most part, the guys tamped down their insatiable curiosity and failed to give Natalie the third degree—or warn her away from him. Both were a small win as far as Ben was concerned. In fact, the only one who surprised him was Banky.

  The damn kid actually got up from his seat and moved over to where they were sitting, then leaned across the table and extended his hand to Natalie. She stared at it in surprise for a few long seconds then tossed Ben a questioning glance before accepting it.

  "Welcome to the family, Natalie."

  The words surprised Ben as much as they did everyone else, leaving him speechless. Not that anyone noticed because everyone else was groaning and laughing and teasing the guy for being so dorky.

  Except he wasn't dorky—he was actually sincere about it. Ben's admiration for the kid jumped a few notches, especially after all the grief Ben had given him a few months ago.

  "Hey Travis, you should sing them a song or something."

  Banky's face turned bright red and he quickly sat back down, staring at the table as he shook his head. "No, I don't think so. It's not karaoke night."

  Laughter and teasing echoed around the tables, all of it aimed at Banky this time. Thank God, because it took everyone's attention away from him.

  Natalie nudged Ben, curiosity clear in her eyes. She leaned closer, her hand accidentally brushing his thigh. She quickly moved her hand and folded it in her lap, like touching him had been the worst thing she could ever imagine doing.

  "What was that all about?"

  Ben wanted to ask her the same thing. Wanted to ask her if touching him, even accidentally, was such a terrible thing. He swallowed the words, knowing he was a fool for even thinking about asking her that. They were married in name only and there was nothing going on between them—no matter what her earlier smile had hinted at.

  He reached across the table for the pitcher of beer someone had slid down and carefully poured some into a glass. Not that he particularly wanted a beer, but it gave him something to do while he tried to get his fucking head on straight and stop thinking shit he had no business thinking.

  He took a long sip then placed the cup in front of him, keeping his free hand curled around it as he answered her question. "Banky sings. Apparently he has one hell of a voice on him."

  "You've never heard him?"

  "No. I wasn't here the few times he got up on stage."

  Natalie nodded then reached for her own glass. Soda, he thought. At least, that's what it looked like. "I thought everyone always came here to hang out after the games. That's what they made it sound like."

  "No, not always. Not everyone. I haven't been here in a few months."

  Natalie nodded then raised the glass. Her lips curled around the straw and she gently sucked, pulling dark liquid through the plastic. Need slammed into him, punching him in the gut and nearly doubling him over. He jerked his gaze away and stared at his beer, berating himself for acting like a damn teenager.

  "I'm sorry."

  His gaze snapped back to Natalie's. "For what?"

  "I wouldn't have let them drag me here if I had known you don't usually come. I should have stayed and waited for you—"

  "Not your fault. I didn't say anything to you and I should have known this might happen."

  Natalie nodded. Took another sip. Placed the glass on the table in front of her. "It's okay if we leave."

  He watched her for a long minute, tempted to take her up on the offer. Not that she was offering anything. Shit, he had to remember that. Had to stop reading into every little thing she said or did. What the fuck was wrong with him tonight? He wasn't usually like this. Miserable and aloof and unhappy, yeah. Always. He'd been that way for more than ten fucking years.

  But eager and anxious and almost excited? Hell, no. That wasn't him. Never had been, not even when he was younger.

  Maybe they should leave. They'd put in an appearance. The guys had their chance to meet her. They'd had their one drink—mostly. And it didn't look like Natalie wanted to be here anymore than he did. Yeah, leaving was the smart thing to do.

  Ben pushed away from the table, reached for Natalie's hand as he leaned over, ready to tell her leaving sounded like a good idea. He wasn't looking at anyone else, had no idea who started tapping on their glass. All he knew was that the noise grew louder as everyone around them joined in.

  "Kiss her!" Someone—Nathan, he thought—called out. The shout was joined by others, laughing voices filled with enthusiastic encouragement.

  Ben froze. Dammit! He should have expected this, should have expected that they'd turn this impromptu gathering into some kind of faux wedding reception. He'd gotten married, had robbed his teammates of the chance to join in the celebration, and this was their way of being part of the big event.

  Only it wasn't a big event. It wasn't even a real marriage—and Ben couldn't tell them that.

  He caught Natalie's surprised gaze with his own, saw the same wariness he felt reflected in her moss green eyes. One kiss. Would one kiss really hurt? A quick peck then they could leave. Yeah, there would be some teasing about it being nothing more than a peck but Ben could handle that, even had a comeback ready for it. Something sharp and biting, which is exactly what his teammates would expect from him.

  Natalie's eyes widened when he leaned forward and caught her chin with his hand. He muttered a quick apology then pressed his mouth against hers in a quick kiss, nothing more than a bare brushing of lips. She stiffened but only for a second then lowered her gaze when he pulled away. Even in the dim light, he could see the faint blush that stained her cheeks. From the kiss? Or from the disappointed groans that echoed around him?

  "Even I can do better than that, Ben!"

  Maybe it was the teasing groans. Maybe it was Banky's laughing admonishment. Or maybe it was the flash of interest he thought he saw in Natalie's eyes when she looked up at him.

  Hell, maybe it was simply because he was a selfish fucking bastard. He didn't know. Didn't care. He just leaned forward again and cupped Natalie's face between his hands, dipped his head and caught her mouth with his.

  And this time, it was more than a chaste meeting of lips.

  He expected Natalie to stiffen under his touch. To pull away in shock or horror. Maybe even jump to her feet and run off.

  Instead of doing any of those things, she pressed herself even closer and looped her arms around his neck. Her mouth opened under his and he swallowed her soft sigh before delving his tongue into her sweet mouth. So fucking sweet.

  And just like that, he was lost.

  He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, losing himself in the taste of her. In the tiny little sounds she made. In the way her fingers teased the back of his neck and played with the ends of his hair.

  Kissing her was a mistake. He knew it, had known it would be just from the way his body had clenched with need when he kissed her back in that tacky chapel in Vegas. It wa
s a mistake—but he didn't care. How could he, when she responded to him the way she was? When her body softened and molded itself to his, seeking what he offered.

  It would be so easy to drag her across his lap. How would it feel, with her legs straddling his while her hips rocked against him? With her legs wrapped around his waist as he drove into her and lost himself in her heat?

  It would be paradise, he was certain of it—but there was only one way to find out.

  He closed his hands around her waist, started to lift her from the chair and settle her on his lap. Started to—and then stopped. The growing laughter and applause echoing around him finally seeped into his thick skull and he remembered where they were—

  In a crowded sports bar. Surrounded by his teammates.

  Surrounded by strangers.

  Ben abruptly pulled his mouth from Natalie's, struggled to catch his breath. Her eyes slowly opened, their green depths dazed as she met his gaze. Shock flashed across her face and she slid back, her trembling fingers briefly shooting to her kiss-swollen mouth. Heat filled her face. From embarrassment? From need? From the physical punch of that damned kiss?

  Ben didn't know. He didn't want to know. He ignored the cries and taunts of his teammates as he reached for Natalie's hand. Ignored their good-natured cheers as he pulled her to her feet. He even ignored the mocking laughter flashing in Nathan's eyes as they moved past him.

  But the one thing he couldn't ignore was the concern etched on Haley's face as he led Natalie toward the door. He paused and glanced over his shoulder, met the other woman's eyes for a brief second then quickly shook his head and walked out, his wife's hand trembling in his gentle grip.

  Chapter Nine

  He expected Natalie to run to her room and slam the door shut as soon as they walked into his condo. She'd been quiet during the drive home from Mystic's, sitting in the passenger seat with her hands tightly folded in her lap, her face cast in shadows as she stared out the window. There had been one or two times when she had looked over at him, her brows lowered in a small frown. Her mouth had parted as if she was going to say something but she simply turned away and went back to watching the dark landscape pass by.

  He almost asked her what was wrong—almost. Ben had wisely kept his mouth shut because he wasn't in the mood to listen to her tell him what a bastard he'd been back at the bar. Not that he didn't deserve it—he did. And hell, it was nothing more than the truth.

  That didn't mean he wanted to hear the words coming from her mouth.

  He owed her an apology. He knew that. But for some reason, he couldn't force the words past his lips. Even now, when she was standing in the middle of the large living room, those delicate hands still clasped in front of her and a dazed look etched onto her face.

  Apologize? Hell, he wanted to close the distance between them and pull her into his arms. Feast on that soft mouth of hers. Drag her into his bedroom and consummate this sham of a marriage.

  Ben couldn't do any of that, not unless he wanted his face slapped, so he simply tossed the keys onto the small table by the door then headed toward his bedroom. He'd close the door—and lock it against the temptation washing over him—then pack his bag for this weekend's road trip.

  "You're going to bed?"

  He glanced over his shoulder at Natalie and kept walking. "Yeah. After I pack."

  "Why?"

  The soft question made him stop. It wasn't just the question, spoken in such a soft voice—it was the hint of confusion in that single word. Maybe she didn't realize he was leaving in the morning. And why would she? He sure as hell hadn't told her. He hadn't told her anything about his schedule. Hell, he'd barely talked to her at all since they left Vegas.

  Ben turned, jammed his hands into the pockets of his dress pants, then stared at a spot just over her shoulder. "We're on the road this weekend. I have to be at the rink in the morning—"

  "I know that."

  "Oh." He frowned, quickly glanced at her then just as quickly looked away. "Then why ask why if you already knew?"

  "That's not what I was asking."

  Ben met her gaze again and softly swore when he saw the banked desire smoldering in her eyes. He took a step back and shook his head, pretending he didn't see it. Pretending his body hadn't already reacted to the need burning in her gaze. "I need to pack—"

  "Why did you kiss me like that? Back at the bar?"

  Now would be the perfect time to apologize, he thought. Apologize then make his escape, before he did something they'd both regret. "I shouldn't have. It was just for show—"

  "No, it wasn't." She moved closer, stopped. "I just don't know why you kissed me like that in public—"

  "It was for show. The guys were expecting—"

  "—then suddenly act like a gentleman when we're in private." She was standing a foot away now, her head tilted back, a hint of a dare flashing in her green eyes. It wasn't the challenge in her gaze that propelled him forward, it was the word.

  Gentleman.

  Something like anger washed over him. He didn't stop to question it. Didn't do the smart thing and turn around and leave her standing there. Instead, he closed the short distance between them and curled his hand around her throat, just below her chin. His grip was light. Gentle. But it should have been enough to scare her away. To send her fleeing.

  She didn't move.

  The pulse jumped in her throat, the steady beat thrumming faster as he stared down at her. "I'm not a gentleman, Natalie. Don't ever make the mistake of thinking I am. I'm nothing more than a selfish bastard who would have no problem using you for what I want then walking away."

  He stared at her for a full minute, waiting for her to push him away. But she didn't move, just kept watching him with that burning gaze. He ran the pad of his thumb across her lower lip, marveled at the velvety smoothness of the delicate skin. He needed to drop his hand. To put space between. To disappear into his room and lock the fucking door.

  And then her lips parted on a soft sigh and her teeth gently nipped the end of his thumb. Challenge filled her gaze as she stepped closer and curled one hand around his loosened tie.

  "Then do it."

  The quiet words fell between them, shocking him. He hadn't meant the words as a dare of some sort, he'd meant them as a warning—only his warning had backfired.

  There was a fleeting moment of sanity where he knew there was still time to escape the trap of his own making. Then Natalie's mouth was on his and all thoughts of escape evaporated. Searing need washed over him, burning him with its intensity.

  He reached for her, crushing her body against his as he took control of the kiss. Hunger, pure and raw, clawed at him and drove all rational thought from his mind. He dragged his hands from her shoulders, cupped her full breasts and squeezed. She moaned and pressed against him, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

  He dragged his hands even lower, palming the rounded curves of her ass as he rocked his hips against her. She moaned again and lowered one hand, cupped the hard length of his cock and stroked him through his trousers.

  Fuck!

  His need intensified. Strong. Raw. Primal. He wanted her—needed her. Now. Needed to drive his cock into her and feel the wet heat of her pussy wrap around him. Needed to fuck her. Hard. Fast. Deep. Needed to feel her muscles clench around him as she came.

  Needed to lose himself.

  Ben cupped one hand around each of her thighs and lifted, swallowed back his own desperate groan when she wrapped her legs around him and rocked her hips against his. He broke the kiss, felt her warm breath against his neck as he carried her to her bedroom and eased her down against the mattress.

  His gaze held hers through the shadows of the room as he yanked the wallet from his pocket and very deliberately pulled out a condom. Natalie leaned up on her elbows, hunger in her eyes as she watched him. The wallet hit the floor, quickly followed by his shoes and the rest of his clothes.

  Natalie's hungry gaze trailed over his body, seari
ng every inch of his bare skin as if she was branding him. She pushed to her knees and reached for the hem of her sweater, slowly pulled it over her head and tossed it to the side. The breath caught in his chest when she unclasped her bra and let it slowly slide down her arms. The pale flesh of her full breasts glowed in the dim light spilling in from the other room. His mouth watered with hunger. With the need to dip his head and pull those hard nipples into his mouth. To taste and tease and nip.

  Then she raised her hands and cupped her breasts, pushing them up and out as her fingers closed around each dusky nipple and pinched.

  Ben's cock grew even harder, aching with need as he watched her squeeze and pinch. Her head fell back, the long sweep of her thick hair cascading over one pale shoulder. He reached down and curled his hand around his cock and stroked. Long. Deep. Hard.

  He must have groaned or made some other sound because Natalie lifted her head, her gaze briefly meeting his before sliding down his body and stopping to rest at his cock. Hunger flared in her eyes as she watched him jerk off. Her lips parted on a sharp breath; her tongue darted out and swept across her lower lip. Then she dragged her hands down her own body and reached for the snap of her jeans. A small pop echoed in the room, followed by the whispered hiss of a zipper being lowered.

  Her gaze drifted back to meet his as she slowly eased the faded denim down her hips. Lower, until he could see the lacy edge of her underwear. Lower still, until they bunched around her knees. She dragged her hands back up, fingers skimming the pale flesh of her thighs and brushing across the lacy scrap of material that covered her.

  Her breath came out in a sharp hiss as she pressed her palm between her legs. Her hips gently rocked against her hand. Once. Twice. Then her hand was gone, her fingers dipping into the tiny band of elastic holding the lace in place.

  Ben's mouth watered as she slid the scrap of material down her thighs. He tightened his hand around his cock and stroked faster, his hungry gaze focused on the middle finger of Natalie's right hand as she reached down and gently rubbed her clit. Up and down, each caress slow and gentle.