18. Nick
Nick
T wo days had passed since that incredible night with Sonya and me still felt her everywhere, most especially under my skin.
There was a shift at some point between the orgasms. A distinct change in the air around us that I couldn’t quite describe.
I just knew that what was between us wasn’t just casual.
It wasn’t just sex. I didn’t know what the hell it was, only that it was no longer as simple as we thought.
I knew it while it was happening and I knew it when I fell asleep with her body wrapped around mine like she never wanted to let me go.
I didn’t want her to.
It had only been two days, but I missed her.
We’d texted a few times, nothing important just a few flirty text messages between practice and my obligations to the farm.
A phone here or there that wasn’t nearly as long as I needed it to be.
It was something, but it wasn’t enough. I needed her voice in my ear, singing with laughter.
I needed her lush lips pressed against my flesh and I wanted, more than anything, to see her eyes darken when I slid in deep.
I wanted her naked too, of course I did; I was still a man.
But for the first time in my life, it wasn’t just the sex I was after.
Game night had me fired up, though, and it was the only thing that had managed to hold my attention other than thoughts of Sonya.
Throughout the pre-game ritual, thoughts of her dominated my mind.
Suiting up in my pads, my gear and then my skates, she was right there, laughing and asking me questions, telling me I gripped the puck too tight whenever the score was close.
“What the hell are you smiling about?” Ryan asked. “We haven’t won yet.”
Yeah, there was the fact that I hadn’t stopped smiling like a damn fool since I set foot in the locker room. “Just thinking about kicking some Siberian ass,” I covered quickly. “Getting in game mode,” I assured him, ignoring the all-knowing eyes of Coach Mac.
Not even his scowl could erase thoughts of Sonya from my mind.
I was ready for the game, at least as ready as I would ever be. I barely sat still through Coach’s motivational pre-game speech but when it was time to hit the ice, I felt the adrenaline pump through my veins.
The second the puck dropped, it was like a motor was strapped to my back and I was everywhere at once.
My mind was sharp, laser focused as if I could see every move a half a second before it happened.
I read the ice like goddamn tea leaves and managed to take the puck early in the first period.
I scanned the ice for Brock on instinct but I was too far ahead to pass the puck.
This is on me.
I dug my skates into the ice and pushed off as fast as I possibly could, slapping the puck across the ice where it fell into the net.
The crowd went wild, getting to their feet where they stayed through the second period.
By the time the final period started, the score was three to two. We were up by one goal.
Nowhere near close to a win.
Yet.
Brock performed like a maniac, racking up his third goal halfway through the final period. Cal scored once and it looked like we were in the clear.
Until the Siberians got a third goal.
The seconds wound down on the game but the Siberians still pushed with everything they had left. They were rough and they were aggressive, pulling every dirty trick they could get away with to knock us off balance.
Brock was knocked down but I pressed forward since I didn’t hear a whistle. Simon barreled past me and sent one of the Siberians falling to the ice, which left the puck all alone for me to scoop it up.
“In the fucking net,” I heard a voice shout. A voice I was pretty sure belonged to Coach Mac.
I blocked out all the noise and focused on the puck, pushing it down the ice and around the net, a move that left the goalie scrambling in his cumbersome gear.
My stick work was amazing and that last move was no exception.
I hooked it around uncomfortably and the damn puck hit the top of the goal before falling inside.
Half a second later, the buzzer sounded. The game was over. We’d won six goals to three. Two goals from my stick.
The arena was thunderous with applause, whistling, cheers and foot stomping. The crowd was over the moon, so loud the announcer was drowned out. My grin was so wide my cheeks ached, and the rest of the team hit the ice, giddy and triumphant.
One more win and we’d make the post-season with a two week break before it all kicked off. That meant two weeks I could spend with Sonya. And my family. Two weeks off meant Coach would give us at least once full week off, and maybe, just maybe, Sonya would let me take her away for a few days.
Maybe the whole damn week.
I was riding high as I skated off the ice, searching the boxes and the arena for any familiar faces.
I knew Sonya received preferred seating if she showed up for the games, but I was never sure if she showed up.
Tonight I wanted to see her, just a glimpse of her eyes.
Just a smile. Hell, I was so desperate I’d even take a thumbs up.
I rushed through a shower, hoping to get out of the arena before Jade or anyone else noticed I was missing but the Viper was right outside the locker room in a blood-red pantsuit.
“The press is waiting,” she said as she pushed off the wall.
“You played well tonight. They’ll want to talk to you.
” That was all she said before walking off.
It was part of the job, one that usually fell to guys like Brock or Cal, but when I stepped up to the bank of microphones, reporters shot off questions one after another, rapid-fire style like it was a damned inquisition.
I answered the questions with a friendly smile, charming them effortlessly while they ate it all up.
I gave Bryn the final question before exhaustion took over and I found myself heading for the player’s exit.
“Yo, Nick, wait up!” Brock’s voice called after me.
I stopped and turned to wait. “What’s up?”
“I guess not gettin’ any is the secret to scoring.” He laughed to himself and clapped me on the back. “Kiddin’ man, but seriously, you were on fire tonight.”
“Yeah, thanks.” I could’ve set him straight but there was no point.
“We have to celebrate,” he shouted and flung one arm around my shoulder.
I shook my head just as Cal and Simon caught up with us. “Pass. I have an early morning tomorrow.”
“Bullshit,” Brock roared. “That’s never stopped you before.”
“You’re the MVP,” Cal reminded me. “If I’m going, so are you.”
I knew that tone. It meant they’d drag me by the ankles if they had to, so I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Yeah, fine. I’m in.” I’d hoped to celebrate with Sonya’s sweet pussy wrapped around me so I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text.
Nick: Celebrating at Hat Trick. See you there?
She didn’t answer, at least not before I slid behind the steering wheel and headed to our favorite pub, which was always filled with hockey fans, wannabes and most importantly, hockey players.
One beer, I promised myself as I stepped inside and scanned the area. The place was packed but I spotted her immediately though accidentally. Sonya.
She sat at a table with Carrie, Ginger and Shandra, smiling as she listened to Shandra tell a story. Laughter exploded out of her and when she looked up, our eyes connected. Her smile grew bigger.
My chest tightened.
Since the women were that way, the guys made their way over to the table and I did the same, eager as hell to get close to Sonya tonight. “Ladies.”
Excited chatter went up all around the table. “MVP,” Carrie called out with a smile. “Impressive.”
“Hey,” Brock frowned.
“You did good too, baby, but Nick was on fire. Wonder why.” She looked as if she knew, or at least suspected something.
“Just my night,” I answered with a shrug before turning my gaze to Sonya.
She offered me a smile, quick and private before she turned back to the group, standing abruptly. “I’ll be back.” She rushed off, almost nervously, dammit.
I counted to sixty before I stood slowly. “I need another drink.” I headed to the bar, hooking a left at the dark hall where Sonya’s hips were silhouetted by the barest hint of light.
The hall was dimly lit and quiet, offering just enough privacy for a quick conversation.
“Good game,” she called out without turning back.
“Thanks.” I caught up to her quick enough and placed a hand on the small of her back.
Sonya turned with a soft smile that made me forget everything else. “How about a congratulatory kiss?”
She laughed and shook her head, refusing my request even as she fisted her hand in my shirt and pulled me down until our lips met. She kissed me hard and slow, punctuating the kiss with a nip on my bottom lip that made my blood pump harder.
I pressed her against the wall, one hand resting low on her hip and the other flat on the wall beside her, boxing her in. “Another,” I growled.
Heat flared, darkening her eyes before she gave me what I wanted.
What I needed. She kissed me with her whole body, and everything else around us ceased to exist. There were no sounds or smells, nothing but me and Sonya and the fire that swirled around us.
She moaned and slowly pulled back as she pushed me away. “We need to rejoin the others.”
My nostrils flared before I thought better of it and Sonya didn’t miss it. “Sorry,” I began but she shook her head.
“You want to risk it? Fine.” She pulled my shoulders and kissed me hard, a little bit angry and a lot turned on.
One hand slid down my back and squeezed my ass while the other brushed across my hard dick.
“Let’s go,” she whispered, but there was an edge to her voice.
“I’ll sit on your lap and play with your hair in front of the whole damn team. ”
“Sonya,” I sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just frustrating.”
“See you out there,” she called over her shoulder, leaving me standing in the dim hallway all alone.
I gave myself a few seconds to get my breathing and my body under control before I went back to the table.
To Sonya.
Except Sonya wasn’t there. Dammit.
I dropped down beside Cal, who raised a brow. “Everything okay?”
I shrugged. Then nodded. “Yeah, I suppose.” The lie fell easily from my mouth because nothing about this was good. Not her disappearing act, not this itch under my skin that wouldn’t go away, and sure as hell not the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Not on the ice.
In the locker room.
Not even when I had her in my bed.