Mistletoe Games: A Play-By-Play Anthology

by Jaci Burton

  There was something about him that completely frazzled every nerve ending, but at the same time, gave her a sense of calm in her whacked-out world. It was crazy. She was crazy for starting up this relationship—

  Correction. She was not having a relationship with Trick. She did not have relationships. Not anymore. Not since that epic mistake she’d made. She’d vowed to never again give a man that much control over her heart, her soul, and her life. No one was going to hurt her so deeply again.

  So far, it had worked. She was much happier controlling her own destiny. She’d worked her way up the dancing echelon in New York City, and now she was one of the lead dancers in a show that was going to premiere on Broadway next spring. She’d worked her ass off to get here, and it was because she’d let nothing and no one distract her.

  Not even the incredibly hot man she was going to see tomorrow.

  FOUR

  “Pull your head out of your ass and focus on the puck, Niemeyer.”

  “My focus is on the puck, Hogan.” Trick skated past his friend and teammate, Drew Hogan, and shot the puck toward the net, where the Travelers goalie, Avery Mangino, waited and easily used his stick to shove it out of the way.

  “Shit,” Trick muttered.

  “Come on, Trick. You made that one too easy for me,” Avery said. “How am I going to hone my goalie skills if you don’t give me something to work with?”

  It had been a long practice this morning, and Trick’s head wasn’t in the game. He’d even missed an easy shot on goal while Ray Sayers, the other Travelers forward, had distracted Mangino.

  “I hope you don’t play like that tonight, Trick,” Drew told him. “Or we’re screwed.”

  Leave it up to his teammates to call him on his shitty play.

  “No problem. I’m working out all the kinks during practice.”

  It was a home game tonight, and he played best on home ice. They’d lost their last road game, and that sucked. It had been a close game, too.

  He intended to play better tonight.

  After sitting in the sauna for an hour to relax his tense muscles, he went home for a couple of hours, put his earbuds in, and listened to some music. After, he did an easy workout, trying to stay pumped up for the game tonight. Then he grabbed a small snack to eat and went back to the Garden to get ready.

  Putting on his uniform always made him realize how damn lucky he was to be able to do what he loved the most. He’d been on skates from the time he was old enough to toddle. His father had loved hockey and had encouraged Trick to play, and he’d taken to it as if he’d been born to do it. He wished his dad were still alive to see him play now. He missed the enthusiasm and excitement his dad had shown at all his games. Trick always took a few seconds before the start of every game to focus on his father, to remember he wouldn’t be here now without his dad’s encouragement and the push he’d given him to stick with it when times hadn’t been so good.

  He still had his mom back in Milwaukee, and saw her as often as he could. She called and texted him all the time, and she was as big a hockey fan as his dad had been. She came out to New York a couple of times a year to see him play, and he always loved seeing her.

  He smiled at that thought, and as he took the ice and heard the cheers of all the fans, wished he could see his mother’s smiling face there. But he rounded the corner out of the box and saw Stella grinning down at him. His stomach tightened in a good way.

  That woman did something to him.

  He filed that thought away for later, because he had to concentrate on this game. The last thing he wanted to do was suck as bad as he had at practice today. So he shut out all the other minutiae clouding his brain and focused on his team and the opposition.

  Tonight, it was Nashville, a really good team, and as Trick and the rest of the Travelers got into position, there was only one thing on his mind—the puck.

  After the face-off, Drew had the puck and Trick followed Drew’s lead on the other side of the ice. It was a lot of volleying back and forth at the beginning of the game as both teams warmed up, got a feel for each other. Trick took the pass and skated to the Nashville net, his teammates right on his skates. He passed it and the defenseman intercepted.

  Shit. It went like this for a while, but they played a lot at the Nashville net, keeping the puck away from their defense, which was a good sign. It took patience and concentration, and Trick had plenty of that. He waited for another chance, which he got several minutes later, then passed the puck to Drew, who breezed past the defender.

  Trick was waiting for the puck, fought the defender for it, and moved to the net.

  Drew was there, and Trick shot it over. Drew slid it right in past the goalie.

  The lamp lit.

  They’d scored.

  A minute and a half later, they scored again on a pass from Drew to Trick. The Travelers were the only ones to score in the first period, because Avery was on fire in the Travelers’ net, fighting off multiple shots on goal.

  In the second period, both Drew and Boyd scored, with one assist from Trick. They were up four nothing after the second period, but Nashville scored a minute and a half into the third period.

  Trick went after the puck on the next face-off, relentless in his pursuit of another score. Drew and the others seemed to pick up on it, because they spent the majority of the third period at the Nashville net.

  Offense was hot tonight, and it paid off with two more scores, one by Boyd Litman, the other by Trick. They ended with a victory in the Garden, and a well-satisfied, cheering crowd.

  Even though they’d scored a lot, the game had been tough. Nashville was a really good team.

  Sweat poured down his back, and every muscle in his body protested, but Trick didn’t care. He celebrated by skating a victory lap around the ice, stick raised in the air as he virtually high-fived all the fans. After a miserable practice today, he’d been beginning to wonder if he’d be able to pull it together for the game tonight. He should have known he’d feed off the fans’ energy. Between them and his teammates—and knowing Stella, his good luck charm, was in the stands—victory had been a foregone conclusion.

  After doing post-game interviews, he took a shower and got dressed, then stepped outside the locker room.

  Guys had wives and girlfriends waiting for them outside the locker room all the time. He never had. It had never bothered him before. Lately, it did.

  He wondered where Stella was. He’d gotten her a pass so she knew she could come back here. She never had before, either, saying it would appear like she was his girlfriend, which she wasn’t.

  No big deal to him, but to her? Big deal, apparently. He texted her.

  Where are you?

  She texted back a minute later.

  Out back. Figured you’d want to avoid your many fans.

  He shook his head and headed to the back exit. Stella was out there, alone.

  He stalked his way over to her.

  “You shouldn’t be out here.”

  She held up her pass. “You gave me this damn all-access pass. It got me through the gate.”

  He grabbed her arm and led her back inside. “Not what I meant. Jesus, Stell. Someone could mug you out here.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Besides, there’s a damn security guard at the exit. It’s not like he’s going to let muggers through to get to me.”

  While he appreciated her independent streak, sometimes it pissed him off.

  “You’re cranky,” she said as he led her down an alternate hallway and out the side door to where he had a car waiting. “Shouldn’t you be in a good mood since you seriously kicked some ass tonight?”

  “I am in a good mood.”

  She leaned forward, gazing up at him, then shook her head. “Yeah. I can tell.”

  The driver op
ened the door for them, and Trick waited while Stella slid inside. He climbed in after her, trying to get his crazy emotions under control. He didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him, but he needed to blow off this mood. Because Stella was right—the Travelers had won tonight, so he should be happy.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  “Starving.”

  “We’ll go eat somewhere.”

  She laid a hand on his arm. “Or . . . we could go to your place . . . then get takeout later.”

  She squeezed his upper arm, and he could tell she wanted the alone time.

  So did he. He’d been waiting to be with her. “Sure.”

  He told the driver his address, then leaned back, drawing in a deep breath. Stella scooted next to him and pushed his hair out of his eyes.

  “You worked hard for that win tonight,” she said.

  “Yeah. It was a tough game.”

  She reached over and laid her hand on his thigh, giving it a squeeze. “It was an exciting game. I was on my feet practically the entire time.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Now you just need a nice, relaxing night.”

  He looked over at her. God, she was a beautiful woman, with her short blonde hair framing her face, and those mesmerizing blue eyes that never failed to draw him in. “Is that right?”

  “Indeed.”

  “I suppose you have a way to relax me.”

  Her lips curved, sensual promise glittering in her eyes like a sparkling sapphire. “You know it.”

  He leaned over and cupped her neck, holding her there so he could brush his lips over hers. She tasted of peppermint, her lips soft and yielding. He inhaled her scent and pulled her closer, wishing they weren’t in the back of a car so he could slide his hand under her jacket and touch her. But, dammit, he couldn’t, so he settled on just a kiss.

  Just a kiss wasn’t enough, especially when she leaned into him, making that sound in the back of her throat that always drove him crazy.

  He pulled back, using his thumb to brush across her bottom lip. “Stop.”

  “Stop what?” she whispered, her eyes a little glassy.

  “Moaning.”

  “I was not moaning.”

  “Yes, you were.”

  She drew back and pulled lip gloss from her purse, then a mirror. He liked watching her put her lipstick on. She had a great mouth and could do amazing things with it.

  “I think that was your imagination. It was probably my stomach grumbling.” She looked up at him. “I mentioned being hungry, right?”

  “Because you don’t eat enough.”

  She laughed. “I eat all the time. And burn it all off dancing. Which is why I’m hungry right now.”

  He shook his head. He loved that she was a dancer. She had strong muscles, just like him, only hers were a lot prettier. He moved his hand down her leg. Firm. Sexy. Tight. Just like all of her. But she was soft, too, in all the right places.

  Unfortunately, that asshole she worked for was obviously a slave driver, demanding all his dancers starve themselves. When they’d met last year around this time, Stella had been curvier. Now, he was worried about her. She’d lost weight for this part. He wasn’t sure he liked that.

  Not that it was any of his business, since he had no rights to her. But still, he didn’t like it.

  He’d like to beat the shit out of her choreographer, and then feed Stella about four pizzas, her favorite food.

  “Maybe we should stop for something to eat.”

  She climbed onto his lap. “Oh, we’re going to eat, all right. I will, then you will, then we both will. After that, there’ll be some other fun play.”

  He growled, squeezing her thighs. The woman did things to him no woman ever did. And he liked to do things right back to her, to elicit the responses that drove him crazy.

  The one thing he’d had with Stella right from the first night they’d met was an easy slide into their sexual relationship. There was no performance between them at the beginning, no awkwardness, no sense of needing to show off sexual prowess, like he’d often had to do when he was with a woman at the beginning. With Stella, things had clicked between them right away. It was as if they’d known each other before, even though they hadn’t.

  He’d felt at ease with her, an immediate tumble of passion and a sense of rightness he’d never felt before. Maybe that’s why he still wanted to be with her. She hit all his hot buttons, turned him on every time he was with her, but there was no sense of needing to prove who he was with her. With Stella, everything felt natural, like this was the woman he was supposed to be with.

  Which didn’t make any goddamn sense, but there it was.

  Ignoring the driver, who probably usually saw way more in the back of his car than what Trick planned to do with Stella, he lifted into her and let out a soft groan. “You’re making me hard.”

  She laid her hands on his shoulders and rocked against him. “That’s the idea, right?”

  Trick shot a glare at the driver, who was paying way more attention to his rearview mirror than he was to the road in front of him.

  “Eyes in front, buddy,” Trick said.

  “Yes, sir,” the driver said, but Trick caught the knowing smile on the driver’s face.

  Fortunately, the drive to Trick’s place wasn’t long. Good thing, too, because his dick was hard, and he couldn’t wait much longer for Stella. They had some catching up to do.

  “You’re going to have to get off of me before we get to my place,” he finally said. “Or I’m going to be walking to the door with a hard-on.”

  She laughed and slid to his side. “You need a long coat.”

  “I guess I do.”

  In a few minutes, they were at his building and he’d kept his hands to himself long enough to get his erection under control. He took care of paying the driver while Stella walked up the steps to the front door. He turned, watching her, wishing the tail of her coat didn’t cover her very fine ass.

  He liked the way she walked, liked the grace, the softness in her step. When she turned and slid a smoldering smile down at him, he shot one back at her.

  Yeah, something was still there. It was as if no time had passed at all since the last time he’d seen her.

  He walked up the steps and stopped in front of her.

  “I’ve been thinking about this all week,” she said.

  She curved her hand around the nape of his neck and brought her lips to his for a blistering-hot kiss right on his front doorstep. People walked past to get inside, and this being New York, no one said anything. But he wanted to get her inside, needed to get his hands on her skin.

  He pulled back and entered his code, then took her hand and led her to the elevator. When they stepped in, it was just the two of them. He pushed the button for his floor, and as soon as the door closed, he drew her against him. She came willingly, aligning her body with his to continue what they’d started outside.

  It was always like this with Stella. From that first night they’d met at McGill’s bar, when she’d asked him to take her home, it had been like sudden lightning between them. A hot passion that had ignited fast and hadn’t burned itself out yet.

  “They have cameras in this elevator,” Stella said when Trick grabbed her butt.

  “So? It’s probably their best entertainment tonight.”

  She smiled, then flicked her tongue around his. “And you’re hard. However will you explain that to property management?”

  “I pay plenty for my apartment. They can suck my dick.”

  The elevator doors opened, and Stella grasped his hands, leading him out. “Oh, no. That’s my job.”

  He followed, not even trying to hide his erection now. She had him, and she knew it. He let her have that power, because there was going to be a sweet payoff for him as soon as they got through his fro
nt door.

  He pulled out his key and opened the door. She backed inside and he closed the door behind them, shrouding them in darkness. The moon cast enough light through the windows, though, and he could see her shrug out of her coat and drop her purse on the table next to the door. She pulled off her boots, then came toward him. He made sure to toe out of his shoes as well, because things were about to get interesting.

  “I’ve been waiting for this, thinking about you,” she said, stepping into him, backing him against the door.

  One of the things he liked most about Stella was that she wasn’t shy, didn’t pretend to be coy about sex.

  She liked sex, and she made no bones about showing it. Having her body pressed up against his made him ache, desperate to get her naked so he could touch her, taste her, and get inside her.

  But he also knew she liked control. And when she slid her hands over his shoulders to take off his coat, rocking her pelvis against his hard-on, he was more than happy to let her have whatever she wanted as long as she kept touching him.

  The thing was, though, he never gave up complete control, and she knew that about him as well. So when his coat dropped to the floor and his hands were free, he tangled his fingers in the thick softness of her hair, angling her head to the side.

  He caught the slight curve of her lips before his mouth descended on hers. It was a hot, passionate kiss, one he’d been thinking a lot about since he’d seen her again. And now that they were finally alone, he could deepen the kiss, slide his tongue inside and taste her.

  She moaned and reached for his shirt, clutching it in her hands, pulling it out of his pants, then palming his lower stomach.

  “I like you touching me,” he whispered against her lips before moving down to kiss and lick her neck. He breathed in the scent of her—she always smelled like something intoxicating to him.

  “I need to touch you, Trick. I want you naked.”

  She snaked her hand down his abdomen and across the denim of his jeans. His breath rushed out when she palmed his erection and reached for his zipper.

  And when she slid down his body, drawing his pants down his hips, all he could do was lean against the wall and let her have her way.