Chapter 30
THIRTY
NOAH
“What the fuck happened out there tonight?” Gavin all but shouts.
“I know tensions are always high when your opponents are former teammates”—he eyes me, then War—“but save the aggression for the damn game.” With his hands on his hips, he tips his head back and blows out a breath.
“We’re lucky those penalties didn’t cost us the win.
” He straightens, this time zeroing in on me. “Don’t put us in that position again.”
I nod, my jaw locked tight. I’m barely holding it together right now. Adrenaline still courses through my veins, and the comments that asshole made about Sienna play on repeat in my mind.
My anger is only compounded by her disappearance. Where the fuck did she go after the second period?
And who the fuck’s jersey is she wearing?
My preoccupation with that alone makes the blood rush in my ears.
The second Gavin stalks out of the locker room, heading to the press room, I storm for my locker.
“Harrison, you’re on tonight,” Andi calls after me. She’s filling in for Sara while she’s on maternity leave. She’s nice enough, and typically, my manners win out, even when I’m pissed, but there’s no goddamn way I can talk to the press right now.
“War will do it,” I holler without slowing.
My best friend steps in front of me, pulling me up short, and punches my shoulder. “Dick. You’ll owe me.”
I pull in a deep breath and hold it, looking him in the eye. Then, exhaling, I nod. “I owe you a lot. Thanks, brother.”
With a shake of his head, he squeezes my shoulder. “It’s what we do. When you’re ready to talk about what that was all about…” He dips his chin, leaving it at that. We both know that the time is not now.
I sidestep him and shuck my gear. Then I head toward the shower.
Half an hour later, I’m dressed in my game-day suit and exiting the locker room. I’m too keyed up to play nice, so I bypass the family suite altogether and don’t bother saying goodbye to any of the guys.
My pulse is still erratic when I pound on Sienna’s door. There’s no way I’ll get an ounce of sleep until I see her. Even then, rest will not come easy.
Almost instantly, her door flies open and she appears, her expression taut and exhausted. “Noah, I can’t do this tonight.”
I push past her, my head a jumbled mess. “I can’t not do it tonight. Because what happened tonight can’t happen again.”
“Oh, by all means, come in,” she sneers, holding an arm out in a sardonic gesture. “We’ll just run on your schedule again.”
I spin to face her, my breaths choppy. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
She hasn’t changed. She’s still wearing those damn leather pants and that jersey under her black jacket. She looks incredible, even standing with her arms crossed, glowering at me.
“It means,” she drags out the word, “that apparently you decide when we talk. You decide when you’re ready to deal with this. You decided to wait months and months to approach me. You waited until you were ready for us. Well, guess what? I’m not.”
I bark out a bitter laugh. This girl. If she only knew how the dollar bill I carry in my wallet is a living, breathing entity, taunting me, telling me that this is exactly when we were supposed to meet again.
Our reconnection has nothing to do with whether I’m ready.
Fate has decided. Fate brought us together at Brooks’s wedding.
And since I didn’t listen, fate brought the dollar bill to me.
Fate put her in this role, where she’s my boss.
It’s fate’s fault that she’s become friends with my sister.
And when she tried to ignore it, fate brought her to this apartment.
None of this is happening on my timeline. I’m at the mercy of the universe, and it’s only compounded by my instinct to claim her and the physical impossibility of walking away. “Whose name is on the back of your jersey?”
“Oh my god.” She drops her hands to her sides and fists them. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I’m not. Not a single thing about this is funny.
I stalk toward her. When I’m a foot away, she backs up, but I don’t stop until I’ve got her pressed up against the door.
“Take off the jacket, Sienna.”
“You are absolutely insane.” She glares at me, chin held high. Fucking beautiful.
“I am.” My control is hanging by a thread. I’ve never been like this over a woman, but I am 100 percent certifiable where she’s concerned.
“It means nothing.” She pushes me away, then darts a few steps to the side.
“I didn’t have a jersey,” she says as she pulls the black jacket off one shoulder and the Bolts logo on the jersey comes into view.
“Hannah gave me shit about it and forced me to wear hers. So don’t go acting like it means anything. ”
Attention averted, she shucks the garment, letting it fall to the floor, and turns. I bring my fist to my mouth and bite down. Fuck. There, across her shoulder blades, in block letters, is Harrison. The sight of the number below it, the 69, my number, is almost enough to bring me to my knees.
Darting forward, I grasp her wrists and bury my face in her neck, inhaling the scent of her.
I run my nose along the side of her throat and down toward her shoulder, and when goose bumps erupt beneath my palms, a heady satisfaction fills me.
“Another happy coincidence, Sienna? My jersey was your only option? Is that the line we’re going with now? ”
“Fuck you,” she pants. Like her body has taken control, her hips roll, causing her ass to brush against my already stiff cock.
Stars dance in my vision. Holy fuck. I need to be inside this woman again.
While I keep her wrists locked in one hand, I loop one arm around her waist. Then I flatten my palm over her stomach so she’s flush against me.
Against her ear, I murmur, “No one has ever had me like this. I don’t get distracted on the ice.
I don’t get into fights. But one look at you, one mention of your name, and I’m ready to rip a man to shreds. ”
She sucks in a breath. “That’s why you got into a fight?”
It’s my turn to laugh bitterly. “Why else? You’re my obsession. No one else has the power to make me lose my mind.”
“That—” she pants. “That sounds like a problem.”
I let go of her wrists and scrape her hair away from her neck. Humming, I pepper soft kisses against her skin. “It really is. And as my boss, I’d think you’d want me completely focused.”
She rolls her hips again. “Maybe.”
I groan. “Baby, don’t tease me. I’m teetering on the damn edge right now. Will you put me out of my misery and let me in? Forgive me for not coming for you? Be with me?”
She shakes her head, the movement jerky. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
In answer, she pulls away.
My heart plummets, though the free fall stops when she holds out a hand. “I’m wet.”
I swear my hearing goes in and out as the words register. Holy fuck.
“I want you to fuck me. I want you to make me come the way only you know how to. Can you do that?”
I’m nodding before she finishes her sentence.
Her lips turn up into a wicked smile. “Good. But don’t get emotional on me. Don’t call me baby. Fuck me with the kind of force you used when you hit that player tonight. Show me how much you want me.”
“Strip,” I grind out as I yank at my tie and pull it off in one quick move. “Everything off but my jersey.” I loop the silk around my fist.
I want so much more than to make her come, but I’m not strong enough to say no to that request.
Without breaking eye contact, she shimmies her pants down her hips, then kicks them off.
“Bend yourself over the couch. Let me see the way my name and number look above that perfect fucking ass.”
She listens without argument, stalking to the couch, her hips swaying beneath my jersey, the number 69 a sick taunt. My mouth waters at the sight.
One day Gavin’ll regret having assigned me that number.
With a quick shake of my head, I push that thought away. Then I lock up any and all thoughts of her brothers. They may be my teammates and friends, but she’s the elixir to the poison coursing through my veins. Or maybe she’s the accelerant.
Blood singing and body humming, I step up behind her and skim the smooth globes of her ass.
“Remember, you asked for this.”
I pull back and bring my hand down on her ass cheek. She cries out, and her ivory skin turns the prettiest shade of red. Without giving her time to recover, I do it again, this time marking her other side.
“This how you want it, ba—” I snap my mouth shut to keep from calling her baby.
If I’m not careful, she’ll pull away. Though with the way she moans and grinds against the couch, I don’t think she noticed my slip-up.
Curling around her body, I bring my mouth to her ear. “Think I can make you come like this? By spanking you alone? Reminding you that you’re mine?”
“Fuck you,” she growls out.
Did that last part break her rules? Maybe. But she needs to be reminded of the truth. She’s mine. I won’t accept any other outcome.
“Bet you’re dripping all over the couch, sweet cheeks.”
When she whimpers in response, all sense of self-preservation leaves me.
I drop to my knees and push apart her ass cheeks so I can lick up the mess she’s making.
At the first taste, I groan. Her arousal is sweet against my tongue.
Just like her original nickname. So fucking delicious.
I only allow myself a few licks before climbing to my feet and raining down another smack.
“Jesus,” she mutters.
“Noah,” I remind her.
“God, you are—”
“Yours.” I land another smack.
Her body shudders, her breathing choppy. “Noah, please.”
I rub my hand over her flesh, smoothing the sting. “Good girl. Tell me what you want.”
“You,” she sobs, pushing against me.
Unable to deny her, I make quick work of unbuckling my belt and shoving my pants past my hips. My aching cock pitches forward, as desperate for her as I am. “This what you want?” I clutch her wrists again, this time wrapping my tie around them and securing it tightly.