Pucking my Enemy Boss (Ice Kings of Chicago #1)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

Holly

Britney Spears’s “Toxic” thumps harshly in my ears from a speaker near the nightclub’s bar.

Fitting, really. I sigh.

I’m sitting in a corner of this over-hyped club, downing my fifth—no, sixth—glass of tequila, watching my ex-boyfriend, Jake Roland, gyrate next to a leggy woman with blonde hair that might be even faker than his apologies.

That’s the fourth woman he’s cheated with in the last month. The bastard! Well, he’s technically not cheating anymore as we’ve broken up, right?

I can still picture the moment I surprised Jake at his filming location two days ago, only to catch him necking with a production staff member at the back of the trailer.

His excuse?

“I’m a popular Hollywood star, Holly. Women throw themselves at me all the time… and a man is a polygamous animal.”

Yes, to the animal. No to the popular star. He’s just a B-list actor. A B-list, two-timing bastard who thinks cheating is his divine right.

I dumped him right there and then, two days ago, and when I saw his text, like an idiot, I thought he might actually be remorseful, that he’d asked me to meet him here so he could apologize. I even pictured a pathetic attempt to win me back.

Instead, he’s right there, rubbing his crotch into the barely covered ass of his dance partner. It’s damned salt in my already raw wound.

I feel my blood boil as I watch him. He sees me, knows I’m here, and he’s dancing with her so blatantly, so lewdly. It’s like he’s trying to break me.

I should leave. But my legs feel like jelly, and I’m afraid any step I take off this bar stool will lead to me crashing to the ground. My pride is already buried beneath layers of self-pity and I’m sure Jake would love it plummeting even further.

Well, screw him. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction.

I down the contents of my glass in one gulp, the burn a welcome distraction similar to the sting of betrayal. I slam my glass on the bar and motion to the bartender.

“Another one,” I announce, my voice clipped and cold.

The bartender raises an “are you sure?” eyebrow and I push the glass further toward him.

“Another one.”

“You’re going to kill yourself,” a deep voice cuts through the noise.

I turn to find a stranger standing beside me. He’s tall, with a dark intensity that’s strangely captivating. His eyes are the color of storm clouds, and his hair, a long, dark curtain that frames his face, looks like it belongs on a rock ‘n’ roll poster.

“Mind your own business,” I slur, my voice barely a whisper over the music.

He smirks, a slow, seductive curve of his lips. “I’m trying to. But you look like you’re about to drown in a sea of tequila.”

I scoff. “So what? It’s my funeral.”

He leans closer, his breath warm against my skin. “Not if I can help it.”

I give him a once-over, taking in the broad shoulders, the easy confidence, the way his eyes twinkle with mischief. He’s too attractive for his own good.

Something about his confidence, his sheer audacity, sparks a flicker of interest. He’s devilishly handsome. That accounts for the confidence. His dark mullet is falling into his face and his smirk is the kind that promises trouble.

But that jacket…

His Chicago Blizzards jacket hugs his broad shoulders, the name standing out under the club’s neon lights like a lighthouse in a storm.

“Chicago Blizzards, huh?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow. “You lost?”

He laughs, a rich, infectious sound that cuts through the bitterness clogging my throat.

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. What do you think?”

I hesitate. Lauren, my best friend, is a sports therapist with the Blizzards. Why’s someone with that jacket showing up here in this L.A. nightclub? Coincidence? Providence?

I pause. I know what Lauren would say about this. She’d tell me to take his hand and make Jake eat his heart out.

And really, what do I have to lose? I steal a look back at Jake; his grin is wide as he dips the blonde.

It’s time to turn the tables.

I slide off the bar stool, my legs wobbling precariously. I grab the stranger’s hand, his unexpected warmth spreading goosebumps through my arm, around my neck and down my waistline.

“Dance with me.”

He raises an eyebrow, amusement glinting in his eyes. “Are you sure about that?”

A glance at Jake from the corner of my eye shows he’s stopped dancing. His face is white with shock and disbelief. Good. Let him burn.

I lean closer to my new dance partner, feeling a strange sense of exhilaration. “I’m damn sure.”

I hold the handsome stranger’s warm hand and tug him to the dance floor. His eyes focus on me, stirring a bubbling heat in my belly that matches the relentless drum in my ears.

“Let’s dance.”

He nods and his arm circles around me. My dance partner is a natural, moving with a fluid grace that's quickly attracting attention. His body is hard against mine, and I can feel the heat radiating from him.

Dance, Holly. Focus on the dance.

I press myself closer, body swaying to the rhythm of the music. One hand in the air, hair whipping around my face, and heels clicking against the hard floor as I dance my worries away.

There's a thrill in this, a reckless abandon that I haven't felt in a long time. I can feel Jake’s eyes boring into my back and picture the mask of disbelief on his face.

My partner’s hands are strong on my waist, pulling me closer. I can smell his aftershave, a mix of something woodsy and masculine that’s intoxicating. I let my head fall back, eyes close. For a brief moment, everything is perfect—this man makes me feel alive.

“You dance well,” his deep husky voice murmurs in my ear, washing like velvet against my skin.

I open my eyes and look up at him. “So do you,” I reply, my voice breathless.

He pulls me even closer, and I feel like his blue eyes are looking beyond my face and clothes, and catching a glimpse of something more.

Why do I feel like he’s stripping me in his head?

I blink twice, starting to feel a little lightheaded. The tequila is catching up with me. Serves you right, Holly. I look into those eyes again. The proximity of this man is doing strange things to my body. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

“What’s your name?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

He hesitates for a moment, then replies, “I might tell you before the night is over.”

Why does that sound so sexy ? Oh, God. I need to get my brain to wake up before I launch myself into a big embarrassment right here. That would be just the crowning jewel of a Holly disaster night.

I laugh. “You’re the mysterious type, huh?”

Instead of answering, he dips me. A surge of adrenaline dances up my spine as I look into those intense blue irises. There’s a spark of something dangerous in them that I can’t look away from.

I’m aware of people watching us—especially women. Their eyes follow our every move, many of them wishing they could snag this long-haired hunk from my arms. He’s got eyes for only me at this moment, and that makes me feel a rush of power.

A new song with a slower, more seductive rhythm starts to blast over the speakers.

“One more dance?” he asks, his voice low.

I nod, trying to catch my breath. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He smiles, a slow, seductive curve of his lips. “Good. Because I’m not prepared to let you go yet.”

My heart skips a beat as I hold his hand, still unable to break his gaze, with my heart pounding like a drumbeat in my ears. I’m aware of the heat radiating from his body, and as we move together, there’s a strange mix of excitement and fear.

I’m drawn to this man, to the mystery that surrounds him. But I know better than to get involved with someone I barely know.

I’ve just ended things with one douchebag, and I’m not about to roll in more relationship mud… or maybe just one night of mindless, endless passion is just what I need.

Don’t do it, Holly. You don’t know this guy. But isn’t that the best way? I can live a little tonight, use him to make me forget my miserable situation... and never see him again?

No second-meeting awkwardness. No ‘what are we now?’

Sounds perfect.

I glance around, searching for a place where we can disappear and be alone. I spot a dark alcove near the bar. Great.

Without a word, I take his hand and lead him toward it. He follows without hesitation, his grip tightening on my hand. As we get closer, I can feel my heart racing. This is crazy, I know, but I can’t stop myself.

We reach the alcove, and I turn to face him. The dim lighting casts long shadows on his face, making him look even more mysterious. I can feel my breath quickening. This is it. The moment of truth.

I’m trying to force my lips open to say something, anything, when I hear the voice from my worst nightmares.

“Holly?”

My heart sinks. It’s Jake. Why the hell’s he here now ?

I turn to face him, my smile faltering. He’s standing there, looking smug.

“Jake,” I manage in a whisper.

He smirks. “Fancy seeing you here, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? The word makes me want to retch.

“What do you want?”

He steps forward, his eyes scanning me from head to toe. Then he looks at the man who I was just trying to figure out how to sink my tongue down his throat.

“Who’s this?”

Mr. Mysterious raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable.

“None of your business,” I snap.

“Did you know she’s my girlfriend?” Jake announces in a voice loud enough for everyone within a six-meter radius to hear.

I open my mouth to protest, but before I can say anything, Mysterious speaks.

“Is that so?” His voice is low and dangerous.

Jake takes a step closer, his face flushed with anger. “Yeah, that’s so. So why don’t you take your hands off her?”

Mysterious’s grip on my hand tightens. I can feel his anger radiating.

“Or what?” He challenges.

Jake takes a step forward, but before he can do anything, I pull Mysterious back. “It’s okay,” I say, trying to calm the situation.

But it’s too late. Jake has already made a scene. People are starting to stare.

“You’re embarrassing me,” I hiss at Jake.

He ignores me, turning his attention back to Mysterious. “I’m warning you, buddy. You’re about to make a huge mistake. She’s only with you to attract my attention.”

Mysterious turns to face me. Without speaking a word, I can read the question his eyes hold.

I open my mouth to protest, but the words get tangled in my throat. “I…”

“I understand,” he nods, but a look of disappointment crosses his features. “Good night.”

Then he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd.

I stand there for a moment, watching him go. A mix of emotions washes over me – frustration, disappointment, and then a surge of anger. I whirl back on Jake to find him smirking, thinking he’s won.

“You know you’re a pathetic psycho, right?”

“What?” He shrugs. “I just told the man the truth. You want me, Hol.”

He takes a step toward me, and I instinctively move back.

“Get away from me, Jake,” I snap, my voice trembling with anger. “You’re a useless douchebag with an ego bigger than your actual worth. I don’t want to ever see your face around me again, or I’m reporting you for stalking.”

“So, you’re ending things? I came here to make an apology.”

“Shove it up your ass.”

“Holly,” he tries to cajole me, stepping closer. “You’ll regret this, babe.”

“Jake,” I call out in the coldest tone I can muster, “what I regret is not dumping your ass where it belonged all these years—right in the trash.”

A chorus of gasps around us pulls my attention to the fact that we’ve been surrounded by a group of clubbers really interested in this dramatic break-up. Phone flashlights flash in my face and I suddenly realize we’re being recorded.

Oh shit. I grab my purse and raise it to cover my face. Well, it’s now on record that Jake Roland and I are officially over. I turn to walk away, but he grabs my arm.

“Holly! You need me. You’re nothing without me.”

A part of me wants to karate-chop him so badly for saying those words, but I don’t want to add more drama for the cameras.

I laugh, a bitter sound. “Do your worst, Jake. I’m done with you.”

I jerk my hand out of his and walk away, head high, feeling a strange sense of liberation. I’ve finally stood up to him, and it feels good. But there’s also a pang of regret that I lost what could have been a potential escape from my problems ... at least for tonight.

Forget about that, Holly. I sigh.

For the first time in a long time, I feel a sense of freedom, of empowerment. I should focus on that. The night air is cool against my flushed skin as I step outside the club, my heart lighter than it’s been in years.