Chapter 12 Kamirah
twelve
Kamirah
We were on our feet in the Arena, screaming for our guys. Chris hadn’t seen much time on the ice yet, but the first line was killing it.
The stadium was a sea of black and silver interspersed with pockets of purple—those of us that had made the trip up from San Diego were cheering the loudest after the last goal.
Jacques had timed the shot to Hux perfectly, and there hadn’t been a moment of hesitation in Hux’s slap shot.
He sent it flying straight over the goalie’s pads and into the net. It was beautiful.
The Kings and their fans weren’t yet over last year’s end-of-season loss. We’d won more than one game against them this season, too, and they were playing dirty. The score was close, but we weren’t there yet—we needed one more to even it up—and our guys were fighting hard to get there.
The problem was in the first line defense. Cohen and Agosta were good, but they paled next to the damage Mironov and Chris could do. Between them letting too many in and Hewitt having a miserable game, the score was more favorable than it should have been.
The teams faced up at center ice, and Gauthier moved at the speed of light. He slung it straight to Hewitt.
But Hewitt missed.
“Shit,” I muttered, and Carina screamed in encouragement. Rusty and Travis whistled, and Cara and Roe cheered.
Gauthier was there, tearing through bodies and scooping the puck up. He shot it to Hux, and the team moved up the ice, making another play on goal.
But the Kings were desperate. Their first line defense was stuck like glue to our forwards, Cohen and Agosta trying but failing to push them back.
Hux passed to Hewitt, and we got a glimmer of the player we were used to watching. It was a clean pass, landing straight on Hewitt’s tape. He spun around, dodging the Kings’ defense, and shot it deep, straight to Cohen.
Cohen passed back to Hux. He shot it to Gauthier.
Gauthier went for goal.
The goalie caught it and sent the puck back into play.
The rest of the period was like that—a messy scramble to try to score, but both teams failed to light up the lamp. Rune was worth his weight in gold. He’d caught more than twice the amount our guys had managed, seemingly without breaking a sweat.
“Hewitt’s killing me,” Carina groaned, collapsing into her seat and rubbing her swollen belly.
“He’s definitely off,” I agreed.
“He’s been like this all season. It’s as if he’s had enough. He’s struggling with injuries, and he looks miserable out there,” Cara added
“Ouch. That’s one hell of a rut.”
“Yup,” Carina murmured. “He’s such a lovely bloke, but he’s not having the best season.”
Coach called for a time-out, and we all dropped into our seats.
I looked over at the five people I was sitting with.
Carina, Rusty, and Travis had their heads together, giggling over something.
Travis took a fistful of popcorn and shoved it in his mouth, and Rusty rolled his eyes with a grin.
The three men—Gauthier, Rusty, and Travis—had been college roommates, and they’d stayed together after college.
Carina seemed to slip straight in and fit perfectly into their dynamic.
Cara and Roe were so obviously in love that I always felt like I was intruding on private moments with them. It was the same when Hux was with them. I was so ecstatic that he’d found two people who loved him exactly the way he deserved—wholeheartedly.
“Oooh, kiss cam,” Cara pointed out, and I looked up at the screen.
The camera panned and zoomed in on a couple. I gasped, then choked on my drink. There in front of me in a purple-and-black Seals jersey was Locke Ledger.
“Oh wow, he’s so handsome,” Carina murmured.
“Hey,” Travis protested.
“Shut it.” She laughed. “He’s a celebrity. I’m allowed to have a crush.”
Her comment sat like acid in my stomach. I certainly didn’t have any claim on him, and we hadn’t even spoken since we were in Fiji, but still. He was mine and Chris’s crush to have.
He was sitting between a man and a woman, both in LA Kings gear. Locke shook his head, grinned, and gave the crowd a thumbs-up, but the crowd erupted screaming, “Kiss, kiss, kiss.”
The woman didn’t hesitate. She leaned forward, tugged on the sleeve of the man sitting next to Locke, and when he mirrored her pose, she planted a kiss on him. Locke blinked, then busted up laughing. He shrugged and cheered with the crowd.
My cheeks heated, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him.
“Oh, hello. I think we have someone with an even bigger crush than me,” Carina teased and elbowed me gently.
“Did I tell you that Chris and I met him? He was in Fiji when we were there. He’s a good guy.”
“You know Locke Ledger.”
“Yeah.”
I pressed my cold hands to my cheeks, trying to cool them, but it was no use. I didn’t know why, but I was just as relieved he hadn’t kissed the woman next to him as I was embarrassed at blushing like a schoolgirl when I laid eyes on him.
I still couldn’t believe that we hadn’t traded numbers.
We’d spent the day lying by the pool, alternating between the sun and shade, drinking, laughing, and swimming.
By the time we’d said goodbye, our cell phones were long forgotten in the beach bag I was carrying. We didn’t see him again after that.
***
We lost. Only by one, but we still lost.
We were staying in LA tonight, so I headed down to the player entrance to meet Chris, but before I got there, his message came through.
Coach has me doing the press conference. I’ll be a little while.
I sent him a love heart in response. Coach would never ask him to sit in unless he was happy with Chris’s performance.
I knew that all the reporters would be dying to ask him about his return.
Doing it on a loss wasn’t ideal, but for the few minutes he’d played, he looked good and blocked some key passes.
Carina was exhausted by the time the game had finished, and Cara, Roe, and Hux had plans, so there was nothing to do but sit and wait for him. I busied myself answering comments on my social media posts of the game and generally daydreaming about what I hoped would happen tonight.
“Hey, baby,” Chris said, surprising me.
I looked at the time. An hour had passed faster than I realized.
I stood up and wrapped my arms around his neck, rising up to kiss him softly. “You played so well tonight. I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you.” He pressed another kiss to my lips and hummed. “They asked me about coming back. I told them Mironov and I were working our way back up to the first line. Coach said we’ll get there before we know it.” He grinned happily, his eyes dancing with excitement, and my heart skipped a beat.
“You will.” I patted the lapel of his charcoal suit and gestured to the parking lot with a tilt of my head. “We have a hotel to get to. Shall we?”
“Think he’ll be there yet?”
“If he is, he definitely needs to reward you for the way you played tonight.”
Chris slipped in behind me as we walked, and the hard ridge of his erection pressed against my ass. “I want to watch him make you come too.”
“I’m sure you will.”
The drive from the arena to the hotel in downtown LA was short, but Chris’s hand on my leg ratcheted up my desire until my body was a mass of writhing hormones desperate for release.
Thank God I’d checked in earlier, so we already had a key to the penthouse suite.
I think I would have died had we needed to wait.
It was bad enough in the elevator together.
The whole ride up was filled with tension.
I itched to touch Chris, and the fire in his eyes told me that he wanted the same.
But we didn’t dare close the gap between us.
Not when the car was filled with other people who probably wouldn’t appreciate the show.
The elevator opened in the foyer to the penthouse level, a marble table adorned with an urn filled with long stemmed roses the only furniture in the room. Doors to the two apartments were in front of us.
The lights were dim when we entered the suite, exactly the way I’d left them. The view through the open drapes was gorgeous—the millions of twinkling lights spread out like a blanket of stars below us.
Chris shrugged off his jacket and eased himself onto the sofa. I pulled the bottle of his favorite whiskey off the mini bar and poured it over ice for him. My man deserved a little pampering. He’d taken the first step in his return, and he was riding the high of the game.
I kicked off my boots and straddled him. His thick thighs legs were solid under me, and his erection flexed as I pressed in close to him.
I gripped his tie and loosened the knot.
“Leave it on.”
I squeaked in surprise, and my pulse went haywire, my heart galloping like a herd of wild horses. Excitement pulsed in my veins. V was here with us, and suddenly I was in the mood to play.
I scrambled over the couch, a smile on my face. I looked him up and down, taking in my fill, and sucked in a breath. His trench coat hung open, the top button on his jeans undone. His chest was bare, the mask on his face a sexy tease hiding his identity from us.
Chris licked his lips as V slid a hand over his bulge, not even trying to hide the erection tenting his jeans. My eyes were glued on his strong hands as he played with the button.
"Drink up, Chris,” he rasped in that deep sexy voice. “Watch while your wife sucks me."
I wanted that a hell of a lot, but Chris loved the chase, and I wanted his mind blown tonight. I dashed to the side, running around the kitchen table before darting into the bedroom. V laughed and followed me in, but I was already hiding behind a locked door in the two-way bathroom.
My breaths were loud and my footsteps heavy, while V’s were silent. I could feel him stalking me, exiting the bedroom and then waiting for me to come out. His energy vibrated off the walls, loud in his silence.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," he taunted.
"You’re the big bad wolf now?"
"And I'm gonna eat you up."