Chapter 7
DECLAN
Hitting the rewind button on the screen, I watch the replay once more.
It’s from the final game of the season, when Toronto lost. I pay attention to their coach—our new coach—and his reaction to the loss in the final seconds.
His frustration is a little too visible for my liking; he could work on adopting a poker face.
If it wasn’t for his contract, then I would have him gone.
I just added another bullet point to my long list of notes; I need to discuss the coach’s demeanor, probably with our general manager present.
I know that I should leave training and strategy to the team, but I really feel my experience as a player can bring a lot to the table.
Closing my laptop, I sigh as I look around my hotel suite. I’m going to miss playing on the ice under pressure; now I’ll be the guy that watches from behind the boards. Stretching my arms, I debate what to do, as I feel restless.
That I completely blame on Violet.
Honestly, my proposition was something not even planned, but after seeing her again, a split-second decision was made. She looked at peace in her flower shop, and that cute summer dress with straps that fall off her smooth skin was a complete bonus.
Last night at the BBQ, I did my best to stay out of Violet’s way after the kitchen run-in, but my eyes kept circling back to her. The way she teases Ford is hysterical, and her laugh can make even a grumpy man delirious.
I wonder if I’ll see her today.
My phone vibrates on my desk, and I pick it up to see my father’s name flash across the screen. That’s a solid tap of the red button. I’m not in the mood to talk to him and listen to how I should invest more of my time into the Dash empire.
Rubbing my face, I know I need to get out of this place and enjoy the sunny afternoon, with fresh air to fill my lungs. Before I get a chance to make a decision, I’m interrupted by a soft knock on my door.
Excitement hits me, because even a man who never falters under pressure enjoys the idea of a woman waiting for him. Walking to the door, I open it to find an empty hallway, and my eyes travel down to the floor where I notice a card lying on the carpet.
I recognize the logo of The Flower Jar right away and quickly bend down to pick it up and read the card.
My answer is yes, Violet
My grin stretches, and I stand to scan the hallway. I know she’s here because I can feel her presence, and I swear I smell damn roses. “Where are you?”
Violet steps around the corner with a subtle smirk on her lips. Her hair is down, and she’s wearing another summer dress. It’s baby blue, and I make no mistake that there is a strap of a matching bra peeking out on her shoulder.
“I’m here. Really shouldn’t be. But I’m here.” Her voice is at ease, at least.
She walks toward me, but I reach out to grab her arm and yank her through the entry, closing the door with my foot.
“Where are the flowers?” I joke.
Violet assesses the suite before circling to face me. “You said they were optional, and I think I have something better.”
I step closer to her, completely invested in the fact that she showed up. “Oh yeah?”
She nods seductively then crooks her finger and invites me to follow her as she walks backward to the bed.
“You’re playing a game.” She grabs hold of my shirt, right before she pushes me onto the bed.
“But…” She brings one leg to the side of my waist and swings the other one around to straddle me, and instantly my guy rises to the occasion.
“Games normally require two players or more.”
“More?” I croak out.
Violet chuckles and blushes. “In this case, only two.” It comes out as a playful warning while her fingertips push against my chest, inviting me to lie on my back.
I prop myself up on my elbows, wanting to get a full view of her stunning body on top of me, determined about an idea in her head.
She reaches to the side where she had thrown her purse, causing her body to stretch across me and rub friction against my cock. I breathe to keep myself grounded. Pulling a glass bottle out of her purse, my head perks up in full attention.
“Why do you have a bottle of pure maple syrup?”
Violet flashes me a playful look. “Don’t worry, I’m loyal to your family brand.”
“That I can see, but why is that here?”
She begins to drag the fabric of my shirt up my stomach to my chest, encouraging me to take action, and I swiftly pull off my shirt without her moving an inch from sitting on top of my cock.
“I remember you mentioned your fear of maple syrup.”
I chuckle, because I have no idea where she’s going with this. “And?”
She lowers her dress halfway without a thought, revealing the matching bra that caught my attention already.
“You see…” She ceremoniously twists the lid off the bottle.
“As much as I’m cool with your note on a pillow in swan-shaped form, and your ludicrous requests that I send you flowers, I’m not that easy. ”
“Of course not,” I assure her. No, I want to do more than ease her mind; I need to get rid of any doubts that I would even put her on the same level as a puck bunny.
My hands rub warmth along her thighs, and not in a sensual way but a caring manner.
Before I have a chance to tell her that she can set the rules, a drizzle of sticky syrup hits my stomach.
Glancing down, my jaw drops when I realize that she just poured Grizzly Dash syrup onto my body.
“I kind of like the idea of torturing you a little,” she confesses while she tips the bottle to draw a line of syrup up to my chest.
“What in the world is in that mind of yours?” I’m already afraid of the sticky mess this is going to create. Tree sap is the glue of about ninety-nine problems, and Violet isn’t one of them.
She leans down to press her hot mouth between my ribs and peers up, flicking her tongue along my skin. “Do I lick up or down?” It doesn’t sound like a question, more of a taunt.
I groan from the agony she’s causing me. All options have me anticipating her body underneath me.
The tip of her wet tongue darts out, and she slowly licks up one stroke before moving back down. “Hmm, I love maple.” Her hum is like sex to the ears.
“Your plan is to torture me with syrup?” I close my eyes as I take in the feeling of her tongue tracing a line on my body, up and up, until I open my eyes to find our lips within kissing distance.
I attempt to capture her mouth, but she only gives me her breath tracing my lips, fueling a sensitive wave of need inside of me.
“I should lick lower, shouldn’t I?” Her whisper is sultry and teasing.
“You are something, Vi.”
She pauses, and her mouth quirks up. “Nobody calls me Vi, except you.”
“Sorry, I like it. Violet is perfect for you, kind of like you were destined to do something with flowers, but Vi, it’s… like a vow that I’m not sure I should be taking.” I half-laugh.
A beautiful smile appears on her lips. “You’re distracting me from my mission.”
“Oh, sorry, please do continue spreading the goo all over my body and doing wicked things,” I encourage, only to moan when her tongue lands below my heart and slides lower.
Just watching her slither down my body has me about to break my invisible rope that I’ve tied myself in. I want to let her lead because this woman has some plans that I’m on board with.
“Still afraid of maple syrup?” she asks mid-stroke.
“Trust me, it will ruin the moment at some point. Your lips are going to be ridiculously sweet.”
She flashes me a smirk. “Which lips?”
I chuckle because every moment with her is fun. I’ve already forgotten about my last hour of mulling over life choices.
“Lower,” I plead.
She unhooks the button of my jeans and unzips my pants. “Like, this low?” Her mouth skims the rim of my boxers, and I tilt my hips up to brush my bulge against her hot mouth.
“If your plan was to make me painfully hard, then you’ve succeeded.”
A low giggle in the back of her throat has me concerned.
Her tongue swirls just below my navel before she pulls away and returns to straddling me.
“That’s a point for me then.” She smirks slyly before swinging her legs off the bed to stand over me.
“Oh dear,” she pouts. “Declan is all sticky and hard. Such a shame that I only planned to taste the syrup.”
Holy shit.
This is her game?
“Whoa, you’re going to leave me hanging?”
She shakes her head. “I’m debating.”
I’m about to hop up off the bed to take control of this situation, but I feel excess syrup running down the side of my body, and if I’m not careful then my sheets will become a mess.
“You’re just going to leave?” My voice is filled with disbelief and cracks in fear.
“I guess I could leave a note on your pillow.” She quirks her lips to the side.
I roll my eyes, completely taken in by her banter, but after her blatant rule-breaking, I’ll gladly take my free shot when I notice a crystalized and shiny substance in her hair.
A winning grin spreads on my mouth, and I throw my arms behind my head to rest against. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“I’m not sure about that.”
“Considering you have maple syrup in your hair, I’m fairly confident that you’re staying right here.”
Her fingers instantly go to her hair, and she pauses when she feels the goo. “Crap.”
“See? Told you maple syrup is evil.”
Grabbing my shirt from the side, I hold it to my body to avoid the floodgates of syrup spreading onto the mattress, then I stand and walk straight to her, drop the shirt, and frame her face with my hands.
She seems taken aback by my move, but positive, nonetheless.
Her lips are pink and swollen, sweet for sure. I want to kiss her, but I want to drive her crazy more.
I move to wrap my arm around her middle and pull her flush against me. Her breath catches when she feels the stickiness of my body bond to her skin.
“You’re nice and messy now too,” I proudly declare, and as tempting as it is to kiss her, I purposely don’t.
A chortle escapes her lips. “I need a shower now.”