Chapter 13 #2
“You can sleep with whoever you want and do whatever you want,” she said, then quickly added, “as long as they’re discreet.”
I placed my hand on the wall just above her head and leaned in, successfully caging her in.
Her gaze followed the movement, and my body heat spiked to dangerous levels at the sight of it.
A light sparkle danced between her eyes, and I never thought something so simple as eyes could be so dangerously sexy, but I guess there was a first time for everything.
“What are you doing?” she asked with a bored tone.
My hand reached for one of her beautiful, bouncy curls, and I twirled it once around my finger then looked at her. “What makes you think I want to sleep around?”
She gave me a deadpan look. “You’re a hockey player. Being a playboy is practically embedded in your DNA.”
“Nice burn,” I quipped.
“Thanks. I’ve been holding that one in for a while.” She smirked.
This woman was fucking infuriating, and I loved every goddamn second of it.
Thank God for contracts and their loopholes, because knowing I was allowed to flirt in public meant I was more than ready to play some dangerous games.
With that risky thought in mind, I leaned even closer.
Our bodies pressed against each other. My lips were just a few short inches from hers, and my heart thrashed against my chest. My eyes flicked to her throat and the way she visibly gulped.
I wanted to wrap my hand around her pretty neck and feel the way her pulse beat wildly against my thumb as I owned her mouth.
It was painful how badly I wanted to consume her.
The way her chest started to rise and fall in quick succession brought me a sick sense of satisfaction. I affected her as much as she affected me. And fuck, did I love knowing that.
“Let’s get one thing clear,” I rasped. “While we’re doing whatever this is, I won’t be sleeping with other women.”
What she didn’t know was that even if we weren’t in this situation, I had no desire to sleep with anyone except her.
I couldn’t get her out of my goddamn head, and I didn’t think I was going to be able to stop anytime soon unless I could manage to get a taste.
Just…one single taste. That’s all I needed.
She took a sharp inhale. “What?”
I inched a bit closer, and if either one of us made the slightest movement, our lips would brush. Excitement coursed through my body and went straight to my cock. Jesus. This was not the time for a boner.
“The last thing we need is another scandal, wouldn’t you agree?” I raised an eyebrow. “And I expect the same from you. No sleeping with other men, Kenny. I don’t like sharing. You can add that to our little contract.”
The background noise from the bar and “Slide” by The Goo Goo Dolls playing from the jukebox were the only sounds filling the otherwise charged silence between us.
My eyes raked over her freckled cheeks. Even under the shitty bar lighting, I could count them.
The way her skin glowed had me wanting to lick her for some godforsaken reason.
I was dying to savor her and find out if she tasted as sweet as she looked.
Though I knew better than that. If anything, I knew she’d taste like sweet venom.
The worst part? I would have enjoyed every single painful second of it.
“Sorry to break this to you, pretty boy, but I have needs.” Her tone held a condescending bite, and the minty freshness of her mouth hit my senses. “We all do.”
I casually shrugged. “If you ever need help, you know where to find me.”
She lifted one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows. “Forgetting about our rules already?”
I took a step back. The need to put some distance between us was suffocating. If I had stayed even one more second near her lips, I didn’t know what I would end up doing.
“What can I say? I’m a rule breaker, Kennedy.
” My tone took on a deeper octave as I rasped her name, wanting her to know I wasn’t fucking around when I pinned her with a look and said, “All I’m saying is if you ever need someone to fulfill your needs…
” I grazed my tongue over my teeth then smiled. “I volunteer as tribute.”
I didn’t wait for her to react and turned around, walking away with a triumphant smile etched across my lips. It was a bold move, and it might bite me in the ass later, but the ball was now in her court. And fuck if I wasn’t eager to find out how she was going to retaliate.
Even though I hadn’t played, I took the loss hard.
Or, well, that’s what I kept telling myself as I tried to forget how my phone burned a hole in the pocket of my pants with a text message from my father.
It was funny how, even though I didn’t play, he managed to make me feel like it was entirely my fault. In his world, I was the only one to blame. The logic was nonexistent, and he chose to forget there were a total of twenty-three players on the roster.
All the years of therapy I worked hard during my rookie years always went out the window every time he reappeared in my life. I hated it. I hated the anger it brought me, too.
It was only a matter of time before he showed up at one of my games. But life had been emotionally draining me since the beginning of the season. I couldn’t bring myself to answer.
When I made the colossal mistake of reading those messages—because curiosity got the best of me—I kept drinking, hoping to drown the feeling of complete uselessness.
It was suffocating, the way worthlessness took hold of me like a weighted blanket soaked in ice water. It was heavy and impossible to shake off. I was drowning, and no one knew. I couldn’t bring myself to speak up, to seek help. It was like part of me wanted to punish myself for what I had done.
With a tired sigh, I threw the keys on the foyer table, took off my shoes, and headed straight to my bedroom.
Kennedy left the bar with Val an hour before they closed.
I was going to leave with her, but she insisted I stay and have fun.
The guys and I decided to stay and close the bar with Tim and his daughter, Aly.
Though Tim ended up kicking us out when we got too rowdy, and we weren’t making his job any easier.
At some point, Hayes decided to get on top of the bar and pretend to be playing guitar as “Sweet Child O’ Mine” by Guns N’ Roses was playing on the jukebox.
Only for him to stumble and fall onto the floor like an idiot.
I fell backward onto my bed with a laugh as my surroundings started to spin. I was definitely a little too tipsy.
Donovan had to stick us all onto his car and drop us off like an after-school bus.
We were all going to get fucked in practice when Coach took one good look at any of us—except for Donovan and Owens.
He was a sadistic man who loved to stick us with suicide drills until one of us ended up puking all over the ice.
With a groan, I stood from the bed, started taking my clothes off, and threw them into the laundry basket. As I was about to head to the bathroom for a much-needed shower, a buzzing sound stopped me in the middle of my room.
I turned around and reached for my phone on the nightstand, but tilted my head with a frown when I didn’t see any missed calls or notifications.
I flicked my eyes to Sush, half-expecting him to be playing with one of the many toys Hayes bought him.
But when I found him on the brand-new cat bed, he was curled into a ball, sleeping.
Huh. Weird.
I shrugged it off. All I wanted was a hot shower and sleep to forget about everything.
When I dropped my phone back onto the nightstand to continue with my night routine, that’s when I heard it—as clear as a sunny fucking day.
A breathless, throaty moan from the other side of the wall. From Kennedy’s room.
“Oh, fuck,” I murmured to myself as my eyes snapped to the wall our rooms shared. I had a sudden hatred for drywall, and I wished nothing more than to tear down the damn wall with my bare hands so I could get a front row seat of whatever she was doing.
It was a thought that ended up taking a dangerous turn.
My bed was propped against the wall we shared, so I sat on my mattress and leaned forward slightly. There was no mistaking that the buzzing sound was coming from a sex toy. I stared at the wall, both shocked and turned on.
I straightened my back and threaded my fingers through my hair.
Well, this sure was one way to sober the fuck up.
What the fuck was I supposed to do now?
I shouldn’t have been listening; that much was obvious.
The logical thing to do was to lock myself in the bathroom for a good forty-five minutes and take a long, hot shower to give her some privacy.
I should have also brought my noise-canceling headphones and put them on for the rest of the night just to be safe.
That was the sensible thing to do.
With a solid plan in motion, I stood from the bed. A groan almost escaped my lips, and I bit my lip until I tasted copper, because…hell. The boner I was carrying was painful.
But I was determined to be a gentleman.
Well…that had been the plan until every muscle in my body tensed. Until my breathing completely halted and my fucking heart practically beat out of my chest when I heard her moan, “Henry.”
The sharp inhale I took filled my lungs with so much air, my chest hurt.
Her moan was…breathy, and husky, and so goddamn sexy. Music to my ears. But hearing my fucking name attached to those delicious moans? I’d listen to it for hours to no end.
Fuck. I felt like one lucky son of a bitch.
Was I imagining things? Was it a wet dream?
There was no way. Though I couldn’t remember the last time I had gotten laid or taken care of myself, so it was a possibility.
I pinched my forearm as hard as I could and hissed at the painful sting. Okay, then. Not a dream.
Do the sensible thing and walk away, Henry.
But I think we’d already established I wasn’t that cool-headed, so what did I do instead?