“You do make me crazy.” I put my hands on her waist and lifted her onto the counter. Before I knew what I was doing, my mouth was on hers, hot, hungry, and demanding. Instead of pushing me away, she gave it right back to me, wrapping her legs around my waist and pushing her crotch against mine. She whimpered into my mouth, and I groaned in response. She tasted of broken promises and no-strings sex with no expectations of a future. For reasons I chose not to explore, that saddened me. I’d set the rules of this game, and I’d be bound to live by them.
I didn’t know what I wanted beyond today, but I was pretty clear on the present. I needed this woman right now like a hockey player needs his skates. Okay, stupid analogy, but I wasn’t a fucking poet. I was a guy in the presence of a beyond sexy woman who was offering her body to me to do with as I pleased.
She felt so fucking good, writhing against me like she was trying to rub my clothes off. I slid my hands underneath her sweater, feeling her sweet, smooth skin against my palms. I ran my fingers up her rib cage, feeling every indentation, not stopping when I touched her bra. Upward my fingers journeyed. Her bra was one of those lacy things. Her nipples were erect against the thin material. I ran my thumbs over them, and she rewarded me with a gasp of pure pleasure.
“I want to take your nipples into my mouth one at a time and suck until you are begging for mercy.”
“Then do it,” she challenged me, and I did love a good challenge.
If I wanted, she’d let me fuck her right here on the kitchen counter. Right now. And, damn, did I want to be inside her body again. I had to know if the sex was as epic between us as I remembered or if my mind had built it up over the years into something it wasn’t.
“Let’s fuck right now.”
She didn’t protest, so I kept kissing her, revving up the passion quotient in both of us, until I thought I’d explode. I rubbed my hard cock against her, but dry humping wasn’t enough. It’d never been enough as teenagers. I needed more, and I wasn’t sure how much more would satisfy my craving for her and only her.
I’d felt this same way the first night we’d met, and the chemistry between us had exploded, and there’d been no turning back. We fucked every chance we got, and right now, I felt like a horny teenage boy once again. Only she wasn’t that teenage girl I’d known. She’d probably learned quite a few moves since them, and I was dying to have her try them out on me.
I yanked her sweater over her head, and she lifted her arms to help. I tossed it to the tiled floor. Her bra followed it a few seconds later. I held her at arm’s length for a few seconds, allowing my hungry gaze to drink in her beautiful body. Despite having had twins, she looked fucking great. Her body wasn’t the slender body of a teenager, but curvier and hotter if you asked me.
Bending my head, I slid my tongue across her nipple, pinching the other at the same time. Her breasts were bigger than I remembered, and I enjoyed every mouthful. She moaned, low and deep.
I ran my palm down her stomach to the fly on her jeans and flicked open the button. The sound of the zipper being pulled downward must have alerted her. She pushed on my chest and struggled against me. I stopped, still holding her against me. I didn’t want to let her go.
“Easton,” she panted against my neck, “the kids. I have to pick them up from school.”
Somehow her words penetrated my foggy, lust-crazed brain. I backed a few steps away, and she skittered past me, picked up her sweater and bra, and sprinted down the hall. A few seconds later, the bathroom door slammed.
With a sigh, I glanced longingly down the hall. I debated on going after her, but doing so would only increase my frustration. The kids came first. I gathered my things and let myself out. The most I would get tonight was a cold shower, but I had my answer. There would be more times like this one, and we wouldn’t stop until we were both satisfied.
I was a patient man, and I would wait for her. She was worth it.
Chapter 17—Ice Cream
~~Caroline~~
I avoided Junie the rest of the day, pretty sure she’d be able to guess what I’d been about to do. The next morning, Easton left on his road trip, giving me a break from having to see his handsome face.
When Junie got off work, she poured herself a glass of wine and sat next to me on the couch. The kids were curled up on the large sectional. Hailey was reading, and Heath had his Legos spread all over. I was in for a grilling, but the kids’ presence made that difficult. Junie studied me as if she saw right through all the bullshit to the confused woman underneath.
I swear that woman had a hidden camera in here and knew I’d almost done the nasty with Easton on the kitchen counter yesterday. What little we did had felt so damn good and been so damn wrong.
What had I been thinking? At a time when I should have some pride and turn down his proposition, I’d done the exact opposite. He’d given me a big check, and then I’d given him a big hard-on. Regardless of whether or not he’d said the money wasn’t tied to sex, I was having a hard time separating the two.
I wouldn’t succumb to passion again. He’d made it clear. He didn’t want a relationship. He wanted sex. He wasn’t sure he even liked me.
I was pretty sure if I fucked him, I’d fall back in love with him, if I’d ever fallen out of love.
Then there were the kids to consider. I was playing a dangerous game with them and didn’t know what to do to make it right. They’d lost one father, and I wouldn’t allow the loss of another. I had to be one-hundred-percent certain Easton would be there for them through the good and bad times, not just when he found it convenient. Once the newness of being a father wore off, would he go back to being a guy who partied as hard as he played hockey?
I didn’t want that man as the father of my children.
Of course, that ship had sailed. He was their biological father, and nothing I did would change their DNA. All I had left was to do damage control and make this transition as painless as possible for them. They’d hate me for keeping Easton a secret, but they were young, and they’d soon get over it.
“Hey, by the way, Easton left this package while you were out shopping this morning,” Junie said. By her smile, she was aware of the contents.
Hailey perked up, dropped her book, and ran to me. “What did he bring?”
Heath abandoned the skyscraper he was building with Legos and joined us. He was almost smiling in anticipation. His hopeful expression was heartening to see.
I glanced at Junie, and she nodded, reading my mind. Whatever was in here was okay to open in front of the kids. After yesterday, I’d almost expected a sexy negligée and was stupidly disappointed the gift wasn’t going to be that intimate.
“Why don’t you open it?” I handed the package to Heath. Hailey bounced on the balls of her feet. Unable to contain her excitement, she tore at the packaging, while Heath batted at her hands.
Finally, the thing was open, and several Sockeyes jerseys fell to the floor, followed by an envelope. The kids ignored the envelope and rifled through the jerseys, finding the one that fit them. They tugged them on. Hailey danced around the room, pretending she was figure skating. Heath slid across the hardwood floor shooting an imaginary puck into the kitchen and racing after it. I hadn’t seen him this animated in a long while. Both jerseys had Black on the back and Easton’s number.
There were two more Black jerseys presumably for Junie and me.
“Open the envelope,” Junie prodded, as giddy as the kids.
I picked it up and tore open the flap to find four hockey tickets to next Saturday’s game.
“I guess we’re going to the game on Saturday,” Junie said.
I opened my mouth to protest on principle only. The kids didn’t know Easton played hockey, and I’d been stalling because he’d be even more of a hero in their eyes once they found out. They’d taken to Easton in ways I’d only imagined, and I’d been feeling left out and sorry for myself. Easton was the shiny new toy, and I was the dependable, old stuffed animal they’d turn to when
things went sideways.
“We’re going,” Junie insisted, shutting down my excuses before I had a chance to fully formulate them. “We can’t pass on this opportunity, any more than I can pass on what’s in this building.”
“This building?”
“Yeah, here. Duh. We live in a building that’s a smorgasbord of hot hockey players, and I can’t decide which one to eat next.” Junie shot me a wicked grin.
“Have you already sampled any of them?” I lowered my voice, but the kids weren’t paying us any attention. Heath was weaving in and out of the chairs and circling his sister, while she did her figure skating routine across the hardwood floor and sang her own version of a Disney song.
“Not yet, but I’m working on it. Several have offered to be my next meal.”
I rolled my eyes. “Junie, you’re disgusting.”
“I’m having fun. You should do the same, or have you already sampled what Easton has to offer?”
“Of course not. We’re barely friends.” I was pretty sure my face gave away my bald-faced lie because Junie laughed.
“It’s okay. You can have sex with him. He’s hot and available. You don’t have to have a committed relationship with every guy you hook up with. Learn to be more casual about sex. You’re so rigid.”
“I am not,” I protested, refusing to see the truth in her statement.
“Kids!” shouted Junie, “we’re going to the hockey game on Saturday.”
The kids cheered and gathered around us. I hugged them both.
Yes, we were going to a hockey game.
As for sex with Easton…
~~Caroline~~
Saturday evening, loaded down with junk food and dressed in our jerseys, we navigated down the stadium stairs and found our seats on the glass. Junie sat on one side of me, while the kids sat on the other.
I hadn’t seen Easton since we’d discussed the visitation plan. The team had flown into Seattle early Friday morning, and, yes, I knew his schedule. He hadn’t checked in, not that I expected him to do so, or had I? I might even be a little disappointed that he hadn’t bothered to drop in last night to check on the kids—his kids.
As we took our seats, the team skated onto the ice for warm-ups. I spotted Easton immediately. I’d recognize the way he moved anywhere, even under his uniform and padding. He moved with energy combined with coordination, overtly masculine in his grace. He owned the ice, commanded it, made it conform to his wishes, and he was a joy to watch.
Junie elbowed me and smirked. “You’re drooling all over your new jersey.”
“I am not.”
Junie snorted so hard she almost sucked beer up her nose. “Whatever.”
I ignored her. Right now, my eyes were on Easton and Easton only. I didn’t care that Junie was witnessing my pathetic crush on a hot hockey player, if that’s what this was.
Easton turned away from a drill he’d been doing when our eyes met. A slow, sexy smile lifted up both corners of his mouth and my spirits. He was happy to see me, not just the kids, but me. I warned my tender heart not to read too much into a simple smile.
Easton lazily made a circle around the boards, eventually passing us. His movements were loose and easy. He tapped on the glass with his stick as he skated past.
Hailey’s eyes grew big as she realized who he was. “Mom, that was Easton. Easton is a hockey player. Did you know that? Did you know Mr. E is a hockey player? Did you? Did you? I wonder if he’ll sign our jerseys. Oh. Oh. This is his number. Look, Mom, this is his number!” Hailey bounced in her seat, pointing at the number on her chest.
“Yes, I did. I—” My words were lost in the jabbering of my daughter. She was too wound up to listen. I turned to Heath, who rolled his eyes, and I had to laugh. He was coming out of his grief and turning back into the son I knew. I’d been so worried he might actually never be that happy-go-lucky kid again.
“I knew who he was all along. He’s Big E,” Heath said with a superior smirk. Even Hailey stopped her constant stream of words to gape at him.
“You did not,” Hailey and I both said at the same time.
He shrugged and didn’t say any more. Every time Easton came to the condo, Heath had stared at him with hero worship in his brown eyes. Maybe he had known all along but been afraid to say anything. Easton would get a kick out of this. Next time I saw him, I’d be sure to tell him that Heath had rendered Hailey speechless.
My daughter shrugged, already bored with our conversation, and leapt to her feet. She pounded on the glass with her little fists, shouting Easton’s name. “Easton! Easton! Easton!”
I guess Hailey didn’t need an answer or explanation as to why I hadn’t told them Easton played hockey. One obstacle crossed with minor damage. I let out a sigh of relief.
Heath shot up next to her and pounded on the glass too. He didn’t shout Easton’s name, but he was smiling broadly, as if this was his best day ever. Their excitement warmed my insides. Easton had done the right thing by them, even though I’d had my doubts. Maybe he did have some fathering instincts, and maybe I was too overprotective and worried too much.
Easton skated by again and casually tossed a hockey puck over the glass. Heath caught it and held it up for us to see. His grin spread wider than before.
Hailey jumped up and down and pounded even harder, wanting her own puck. Easton did a slow, lazy circle and tossed another. Hailey missed it, but I caught it and handed it to her. She fist-bumped Heath and erupted into another steady string of chattering, talking so fast I had a hard time understanding her. Nothing unusual there. She was talking to her brother anyway, so I turned away and took a sip of the beer I’d bought earlier. I never really knew if Heath understood her because of some twin-bond thing they had going or if he only pretended to do so.
I glanced at Junie. Her eyes were glued to the ice. I followed her gaze in an attempt to figure out what guy she was so zeroed-in on. Could it be Kaden who was the current subject of Junie’s attention? Or would that be the current victim she was stalking? Hard to tell with Junie, but she never led guys on. She was in it for sex, fun, and nothing long-term. These hot hockey players were right up her alley and prime game. I was surprised she hadn’t hooked up with any of them yet, but maybe she was taking her time and savoring the hunt.
My attention strayed back to Easton. He was all business now, concentrating on scoring drills with the two other guys on his line. He moved with the speed and precision of a trained athlete, a man who’d taken advantage of his innate physical ability and honed his body and mind to reach the highest level of his chosen sport. Easton was good, really good, and I was proud of him even if I didn’t have the right to be.
For a long time, I’d resented hockey, blamed the sport for ripping him away from me. Now I saw things as they were. If we’d stayed together back then, we wouldn’t have lasted. We were too young with too many strikes against us. Young love burned hot and fast but often didn’t have staying power as the couple matured and grew in different and opposing directions.
Easton might have been the love of my teenage life, but I’d find the right man, one who made time for me and the kids rather than disappearing for a week at a time on a road trip, one who wasn’t surrounded by women who’d do anything to hook up with a hockey player, one who didn’t live in the limelight and take advantage of the fame.
I wanted a quiet life. I didn’t want to be in the spotlight, nor did I want my kids subjected to life under a microscope. I made a mental note to have a discussion with Easton about his public life versus our private life and what we’d do to protect the kids.
I sighed and rubbed my eyes, suddenly weary. I had a predatory female on the right side of me and, on the other side, two kids who hero-worshipped a man they didn’t know was their father. Here I was, struggling against an insane attraction to Easton that collided with my unreasonable jealousy toward my kids’ growing attachment to him. Even worse, thoughts of him invaded my mind all day and night long. When sleep finally claimed me, m
y subconscious didn’t give me a break, either, and conjured up erotic dreams of things I wanted to do to him—hot, dirty things, the dirtier the better.
I was a hot mess and miring myself deeper in the muck every minute of every day.
Easton’s insanely generous check sat in my bank account barely touched. I was afraid to spend it for fear it’d go more quickly than planned. Next week, I’d register for classes at a local college, thereby cementing my commitment to living in this area for the next few years. Later, I’d go Christmas shopping and probably spend too much money making this first Christmas without Mark a good one for the kids.
I wasn’t sure I’d succeed, but I’d do my best.
Mark had loved Christmas. Every year we’d picked out a tree and decorated it as a family. This year, I’d continue some of Mark’s family traditions and add a few of my own. We’d create new memories and honor the old ones, and we’d find our new normal.
I’d adjust to Easton’s presence in my life, as I both hoped and feared he was here to stay—because of the children, of course.
It’d been years since I’d seen hockey played live, and live hockey was so much better than hockey on television. I gave up trying to follow the game and resigned myself to my obsession with Easton. My hungry eyes ate him up, watching his every move when he was on the ice and on the bench. I marveled at the power in his legs and the speed with which he skated from one end of the ice to the other, not to mention the skill he exhibited handling the puck. He’d been good back in his teens, but he was far beyond good now. He was exceptional in an arena filled with exceptional athletes at the top of their game.
I’d stalked him online. The sports bloggers and online websites touted him as one of the most talented rookies of the season. I easily saw why. He stood out. He made plays. He was dependable and steady, yet unpredictable and dangerous to the opposing team.
My kids were enamored of him, and I was conflicted. I didn’t want to like him, yet I did. I didn’t want to be attracted to him, yet I was. I didn’t want to love him, yet it might be too late.
Shutout Page 12