Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
WYATT
“Thanks, Jon. Julian, congratulations on your first two goals of the season. What was going through your mind when you made that first goal?” The reporter leaned in closer to Julian.
She had dark hair and heavy lashes. I envied her that she was the one standing there with him in that moment.
A moment that meant everything to him. The bar had exploded when he made the goal.
And then again when he scored the game-winning one.
“That it’s been a long time coming. But uh…
we put a lot of pressure on their guys. We moved the puck and uh…
were able to find the back of the net. I got the first goal from a pass from Blais.
The second one because Graham put some pressure on their defense,” Julian said, running a towel over his face.
“Speaking of your team, they must be happy to see the old Julian Silver back. What changed in this game tonight from the one last week against Colorado?” she asked.
He smiled at her, the sweat dripping from his hair. “I, uh…” He paused, and the smile turned cocky. “I started a new training regimen last week.”
“What can you tell us about that?”
Julian wiped his face again. “Uh… it helped clear my head and… yeah, I hope to keep working with this trainer. You saw the results. I think it’s been good for me.”
“Was this a new trainer the team brought in to help with the injuries you were battling last year?”
“No, uh… she came highly recommended by a friend. As for last season’s injuries, I’m sure she’ll be able to work out any recurring issues I may have.” I snorted out a laugh. The poor reporter stood nodding and taking everything Julian said at face value.
“The Storm is a young team. Did you have any fear coming into this game that they would outperform you?”
Julian ducked to hear her question. “LA has some younger players, but so do we, and there is something to be said for playing as long as I have…”
“You into hockey now?” Maverick asked.
“It was on.” I turned my attention to him. “Is everything okay?” It was Wednesday, not Maverick’s usual Thursday. He’d texted, told me to be at the Sands. No bra. No underwear. Which meant a quick fuck either in the elevator or maybe his office.
“It will be. You ready?” He took my half-drunk tequila soda and swallowed it down.
“I guess.” I gathered up my purse and followed Maverick out of the bar, Julian still smiling on the TV.
I was happy for Julian. Hopefully everyone would see age as just a number. Still, it stung a little, knowing he wouldn’t be calling me again. I wondered if I’d get that statue outside City Center Arena.
Maverick didn’t say a word as we rode up to the suite. He never did when he was like this, coiled tight. Jackson stood by the elevator, arms crossed. He was different around Maverick.
The door had barely shut before he had me against the wall. His hand slid up my shirt, fingers closing around my breast like he owned it. His mouth found my neck—hot, demanding.
And I let him. Because that was my job.
“On your knees,” Maverick said, breathing into my ear as he undid his belt.
“Not on the tile.” I was too old to kneel on the hard cold floor.
Maverick took off his suit coat and threw it down. His cock was in his hand. “Now.”
“If we went to the bedroom—”
“Wyatt,” he warned, stepping closer to me. I hated the way my name sounded in his mouth. That was the first mistake I made with Maverick. All my clients only knew me by some version of Cassidy. “Knees, now.”
Maverick was never violent, and this wasn’t about me.
More about him regaining the control someone had taken from him.
It had taken me years to figure that out.
I folded his jacket and gathered up my hair and got on my knees.
The jacket did little to cushion the hard marble.
Maverick wrapped a hand in my hair. His breath was unsteady as I ran my tongue up his shaft.
Some men believed that cock-sucking was the ultimate humiliation for a woman.
We were on our knees before them. Vulnerable.
But I held this man’s balls in my hands. I was the one in control. I could bring him to his knees in two ways. One less painful than the other. I rose up on my knees, ran my tongue around the tip of his dick. His grip tightened on my hair. I closed my eyes and did what was expected of me.
I knew how far to take it with Maverick. I would not swallow. Not even for the luxury home he paid for. Swallowing was for a young girl, one who still had something to prove. His breath came up faster, his thrusts uneven. I pulled away. “You want to finish here?”
“Bend over.” He pushed his pants down. “Condom, inside pocket.”
I picked up the jacket, grabbed a condom, and handed it to him.
Then I stepped out of my heels and bent over.
Maverick’s fingers dug into my hips as he pushed forward.
I braced myself against the wall. It wouldn’t take much.
I made the noises I needed to. Cooed Maverick’s name as he grunted out his climax.
“I need to shower,” Maverick said, tucking himself back in his pants. “You want dinner?” he asked on the way to the bedroom.
I stood up and pushed my skirt down. “Sure.”
“Order something,” Maverick said, unbuttoning his shirt.
“What do you want?” I called, walking over to the phone.
“Whatever you want. I already ate,” he said, closing the bathroom door.
“Right.” I would rather eat at home with underwear on. Maverick was in the shower when my phone rang. I expected it to be Margo looking for Maverick. But the name Mr. X flashed across the screen. Julian. I closed the bedroom door before answering the phone. “Cassidy’s training facility.”
“You saw that?” Julian’s voice was low, like he wasn’t sure he wanted me to answer.
“I did. I guess I’ll need something new to lie to you about.” I smiled into the phone, sitting on the couch. The sound of his voice washed over me. “So it was a good game?”
“It was. I scored. Twice. It was a fucking miracle. And I checked Host so hard into the boards, he’ll feel that for weeks. So will I. But hey, the fans loved it, and I am again a hockey god.”
“Wow, a real god.” I wasn’t sure why I was flirting with him. Why I was even talking to him. “Should I say congratulations or amen?” The sound of clothes scraping against the phone made me smile. “Are you naked?”
“Just about. Are you?”
“No.” I examined my wrinkled skirt. “This isn’t going to turn into one of those calls, is it?” That was a skill I hadn’t used in a long time.
“No, my shoulder is too sore for that activity.” I heard a shower turning on. “Unless you want to come over and help. Kiss it better.”
This was a very different Julian from the first night. “Which part?”
“Any part you want, babe.”
I liked the sound of that word when he said it. The low rumble of his voice. I was smiling like some stupid schoolgirl at the thought of a naked man.
“How was your day?”
His question took me by surprise. “Ah… um… How was my day?” I lay back on the couch. “It was good.” I wasn’t sure why my voice cracked. “I, uh, watched my first hockey game.”
“What did you think?”
“I’m no expert, but I thought that Silver guy did pretty good. He looked like he knew what he was doing out there. He didn’t fall down once.”
“No, he didn’t. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.” I forced a smile. “Are you? I mean, with the team? With the scratching and all.”
“Scratching? Yeah.” He paused. “My feelings haven’t changed.”
I rested my cheek on the back of the couch, pulling my knees to my chest. “It’s not Friday.”
“You think they’re going to change in a day?”
“They might.” Mine hadn’t. I still thought about him. “It could be the adrenaline from your big win.”
“No. I can feel every ache and bruise. I got a nasty one on my right hip. You can kiss that one better too.”
“Can I?” I couldn’t keep the smile out of my voice. I hoped his feelings didn’t change. Because I wanted to see him again. I wanted to take it all in and memorize the way he felt. “Text Margo. My weekend is pretty open.”
“I want to hear that you want to see me again.”
"That’s not how this works," I whispered into the phone. It had never worked that way. If a client called, it was my job to see them. Didn’t matter if I was happy or sad. If I didn’t feel like it or the day had already gone to shit. This was the job.
“It is with me. If you don’t want to see me—”
“I do.”
“I have a game on Friday in Toronto. Is two too late?”
“In the morning?” I rested my chin on my knees. “Don’t you need to sleep? I mean, being a hockey god and all.”
“Gods don’t need to sleep. And I have a four-hour flight back to Vegas. But if it’s too late—”
“No, it’s not. But I’m sure your feelings will change.
” It had happened before with a client. Feelings.
Some workers kept those clients because it meant a steady paycheck.
I stopped seeing them because feelings could lead to jealousy and jealousy would make men do stupid things.
I didn’t worry about Julian having feelings because in a few weeks, he’d move on.
“They won’t. Are you sure you’re okay? I can be there in, like, twenty. Make it thirty. It’s going to take me a couple minutes to get my pants back on. My fucking shoulder is killing me.”
I smiled into the phone. “It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s been a long day.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I heard him turn off the shower. “Did some asshole complain about your tits again? Who the fuck does that?”
I laughed. “No.”
“They are really nice, if you want my opinion. Okay, they’re more than nice.
They are perfect. So are all the other parts of you.
If you were on my team, I wouldn’t scratch you.
God, that sounded weird. This entire conversation has taken a turn.
I’m going to blame it on the pain and that I’m exhausted. ”
“Then you, my hockey god, should get some rest and take a couple Advil.” Having this stupid conversation was what I missed in my life. Having a soft place to land at the end of the day.
“If there was something wrong, would you tell me?”
I swallowed down the sadness. Wyatt wanted someone to talk to her like this.
But Julian wasn’t talking to Wyatt, he was talking to Cassidy.
A whore. “There is nothing wrong.” I could hear Maverick moving around in the bedroom.
He was talking to someone on the phone. “Get some rest. I’ll see you in a couple of days. ” God damn it, Wyatt, shut up.
“Okay, if you need anything, call me. I mean it.”
“Good night, Julian.” I hung up the phone and lay back on the couch, grappling with what I was feeling.
“Did you order dinner?” Maverick asked, walking into the room.
I sat up. “Are you heading back down?”
“Yeah. But I’ll be back up later. Stay.” He walked over and kissed me. “And eat something, you’re too thin.” He shook the wrinkles out of his suit coat and slipped it back on.
He said nothing else before he left. Didn’t ask how my day was. I sat alone in the suite, staring at the phone, replaying the conversation with Julian over in my head. Julian thought this was all part of it, like he had to call me and say those things to me.
It was nothing more than that.