Once Upon a Power Play (3 page)

“Let’s cut to the chase. You didn’t really invite me up here for drinks.”

“Oh, really?” she challenged, tilting her nose in the air and slipping back into the sarcasm she wore like second skin. “Because no woman can possibly resist Eau de Lumberjack?”

“If the flannel shirt fits.” Ryan grinned and rubbed his thumb across the tender flesh on the underside of her wrist. Her protests weren’t fooling him. Like a stick of dynamite, she was burning hot under all that bravado. “After all, you did try to climb me like a tree downstairs.”

“You’re an ass,” she breathed, her body shifting almost imperceptibly closer. He skimmed his free hand over her collarbone, finding her skin soft and supple, just as he’d imagined. A nervous laugh rolled off her lips. “Fine. You’re such an expert on women. Why don’t you tell me what it is you think I want?”

“Right now?” Ryan studied her, deciding to play it straight. His next words would either drive her wild with lust or get him thrown out on his ass. Only one way to find out what kind of woman Chloe really was under all that prim and proper polish. “Right now you want me to fuck you so dirty the only thing you will be able to think of—
the only thing you will care about
—will be your next orgasm. The first of many I’m going to give you tonight.”

Her breath hitched in her throat, breasts rising and falling with the action. Those coffee-colored eyes of hers grew even darker, curiosity and hunger churning in their depths as she silently contemplated him. Unable to bear Chloe’s silence, and needing another taste of her sweet skin, he licked the sensitive flesh of her neck. The sigh that followed confirmed her arousal. He placed a delicate kiss in the same spot. “Am I right princess?”

Chloe nodded, unable or more likely unwilling to voice her consent.

Not good enough. When she broke apart with pleasure, it would be because she asked for it. Wanted it. Needed it. Just like he needed her underneath him, screaming his name.

Ryan shifted, pinning her to the counter and pressing his hips against her, letting her feel the length of his erection on her belly. The woman had him so fucking hard he was going to lose his mind. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I want you to fuck me dirty. Right here on the counter.” A mischievous grin lit up her face. “And Ryan? I want it so dirty I forget everything, even my own name.”

“The only name you’ll have on your lips is mine,” he growled, determined to make good on the promise. “That little gold dress of yours is driving me fucking crazy. I need to tear it off and find out what’s underneath.”

With a flick of the wrist, she reached back and unzipped the dress. The slow drag of the zipper was torture. She was toying with him. He knew it right down to his aching balls, which were so tight he’d probably lose it as soon as he got inside her.

When the dress finally fell to the floor, pooling around her feet, he wanted to thank the dumbass who’d dumped her tonight. Holy fuck. The sight before him was better than any pinup fantasy he’d ever indulged. Under the dress she wore a lacy black slip with a garter belt that connected to lace topped stockings. It was sexiest damn thing he’d seen in ages. “What are you waiting for, Lumberjack Boy?”

“Is that a challenge?” He seized her hips and boosted her onto the counter, making them more evenly matched in height and giving him an unobstructed view of her full breasts. Reaching around, he pulled the clip from her hair, freeing a mass of unruly curls. He tugged on one, watching with interest as it sprang back when released. “Trust me on this, princess. You’ll enjoy it a hell of a lot more if I take my time. And I plan to take all night.”

She rolled her eyes. “Promises, promises.”

Grabbing her chin, he forced her to look him in the eye. “I always keep my promises.” If she knew nothing else about him, she’d know that much by the time they were through. He ran his hands down the outside of her thighs, enjoying the silky feel of her stockings sliding under his fingers. Her sharp intake of breath suggested that despite her eye-rolling sarcasm, she wanted this as badly as he did. When he reached her knees, he reversed, palms traveling up her inner thighs, spreading her legs for him. She was fully exposed except for the small scrap of black satin that shielded her body.

Drawing on years of discipline, he stopped short of his final destination, pausing to massage the bare skin between her slip and stockings. She held her breath while he kneaded the soft flesh, no doubt waiting for him to move on to her panties. But he’d meant what he said. He had no intention of rushing, even if he did have the mother of all hard-ons. With the storm raging outside, they had all night to explore one another, and as much as he wanted her, the foreplay would only intensify their mutual pleasure.

He grabbed a piece of ice from the tray she’d been using to make margaritas. “We’re going to play a game,” he said, holding the ice cube up for inspection.

“With ice?” She furrowed her brow, not looking the least bit interested. “It’s freezing!”

“Trust me.” Turning her wrist over, he rubbed the ice cube over the thin skin on the underside. She shivered on contact, her entire body trembling from the chill. Goose bumps ran up her arm. Bringing her wrist to his mouth, he licked the wet spot, sucking hard on the tender skin. She gasped at the heat of his lips, a sharp contrast to the ice. “Everywhere this ice cube goes, my mouth follows.”

Her dark eyes were ripe with desire as she contemplated the rules. Finally, she nodded, accepting his terms. “I like this game already.”

“I thought you would.” A smiled tugged at his lips. There were a lot of games he could teach a woman with her adventurous spirit. “Now be a good girl and hold out your arm.”

She did as instructed, a look of anticipation on her face as she watched him, waiting to see what he’d do next. Her bottom wriggled against the counter. He wanted to touch her, see if she was wet, but once he plunged into her, he’d lose what little control he had. Instead he moved the ice cube up her inner arm, following it with a trail of kisses that left them both breathless.

Next, he started behind her ear, dragging the ice cube down her neck and pausing at the hollow between her breasts.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she said, whimpering in anticipation. Her chest heaved as she sucked in a deep breath. The hot flesh brushed his cheek, tempting him.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.” Like he could stop if he wanted to. Returning to her ear, he sucked the lobe into his mouth and bit down. Her cry of pain melted into a sigh of pleasure when his tongue darted out, massaging the sting away. Then he nibbled his way back to the sweet mounds demanding his attention. The way her breasts strained against the restrictive lace? It was fucking torture. Ryan licked his lips and brought his gaze to her face. Chloe’s wild eyes locked with his, communicating her unspoken need. “Show me.”

For once, she didn’t argue, just unhooked her stockings and pulled the slip over her head, freeing her breasts as he’d commanded. And holy mother they were perfect—full and heavy, the rosy peaks puckered and ready. She arched her back, offering herself to him. Tracing lazy circles around her left breast, he slowly made his way to the hardened nipple. The ice cube grazed the sensitive bud, and she rose up once again. Ryan dropped his mouth to the cool flesh, his teeth closing over the perfect little mound. Then he bit her. Harder this time. She yelped in response, twisting her fingers in his hair. Asserting control, she forced him to take her deeper. He flicked her nipple with his tongue, following the same path he’d used for the ice. The resulting moan urged him on.

“On your back,” he ordered, placing a hand on her belly and forcing her to lie down on the breakfast bar. Putting the ice cube aside, he grabbed the thin strings of her bikini underwear and started to pull them down before changing his mind. Lowering himself between her thighs, he blew a hot breath against her panties. Then he licked them, giving her one long, torturously slow drag of his tongue up the center of the already damp fabric. She squirmed on her back, pushing her hips off the counter.

“Take them off. For the love of God, I’m begging you.”

“That’s not begging, princess.” He raised an eyebrow, looking right into her frustrated eyes. “If you were begging, you’d have said please.”

She glared at him. “
Please
take my fucking panties off.”

He grinned in spite of himself as he pulled her panties down, leaving her stockings in place. Those were staying on. He wanted all that silk wrapped around him when he buried himself in that sweet pussy. Pushing her thighs wide, he gave himself an unobstructed view of her. She was so fucking wet. A tortured groan escaped his lips. He’d made a promise. No rushing.

He ran the ice cube up her thigh. It was hard to tell if the resulting shudder was from arousal or the return of the cold as it wet her stocking. Dropping to his knees, he settled between her legs, blowing a hot breath on her clit. Giving her no time to prepare for the change in temperature, he put the ice cube against the small nub, and rotated it. She gave a sharp hiss, legs clenching around his head as she bucked off the counter. His mouth followed immediately. Sucking hard at the tiny pleasure center, he worked her with his tongue.

“
Ohh!
That feels…” The words trailed off on a sob. Her hands gripped the edge of the counter, seeking purchase as her hips leaped skyward. “Oh, wow. That feels so freaking good. Do it again. Please,” she begged breathlessly. “I need it, Ryan. I’m dying here.”

Repeating the move, he used his tongue to apply more pressure. Determined to push her over the edge, he thrust his fingers inside her, moving them in unison with her writhing hips. It didn’t take long. She was primed and ready. Her muscles tightened around him. She screamed his name, coming apart noisily as the orgasm rocked her tiny body.

When he climbed to his feet, Chloe met him with a lazy grin, pushing herself into an upright position. She grabbed the hem of his thermal shirt and yanked it up over his head, taking the flannel shirt with it.

“That’s better.” She bit her lip, eyes traveling over the muscles of his chest and arms. Her gaze lingered on the newly acquired phoenix tattoo that covered his left shoulder, snaking down his arm to create a sleeve. Then she moved on, her fingers fluttering over his bare skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Make that
much
better.”

Reaching for his belt, she unfastened the buckle with nimble fingers, shoving his pants and boxer briefs down, releasing his throbbing dick. She took him in hand, stroking his shaft and rubbing her thumb across the head, using the pearly bead she found there for lubrication. Unable to control himself, he pumped his hips into her hand, nearly reaching orgasm with two quick strokes.

Sweet Jesus. He needed to be inside this woman—
now
. Pulling her in for a kiss, he coaxed her forward with a tug of the hips. Answering his unspoken command, she pressed her breasts against him and scooted to the edge of the counter. His cock found her slick center immediately, the head pushing against her, seeking entry.

“Condom.” He pulled away and dug a foil square out of his wallet, rolling it on quickly. “Ready?”

She smirked. “Sweetie, I’m beyond ready. Don’t hold back.”

Thrusting into her with one fluid stroke, he seated himself deep. And oh was it tight. Her sharp inhalation gave him pause. Holding her close, he remained still, giving her time to adjust to his size. She rolled her hips. Once. Twice. So slow. So incredibly slow. And hard. The friction of her body hugging his cock was going to make him come before she was ready. He needed to move. Needed to feel the slide of her body around him as their hips crashed together.

The third time she let out a veritable purr, and he knew she was toying with him again, waiting to see what it would take to break him. Without warning, he pulled out. She gasped at the loss of contact, her lips settling into a disappointed pout. Angling his hips upward, he slammed back into her. There would be no stopping this time. They would go all the way, coming together. Digging her nails into his shoulders, she matched his pace, rocking her hips and panting with the effort.

“That’s it, princess. Ride my cock like a good girl. I need to feel that sweet pussy of yours come again. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” she moaned, wrapping her silky legs around him. “I’m almost there.”

Thank God. He was about to blow and there was no way he was going to come without her. Two more quick strokes and she was screaming his name as he succumbed to his own orgasm, her tight walls milking every last drop he had to offer.

Chapter Four

C
hloe watched with satisfaction as the kids from Garden of Dreams skated onto the ice at Madison Square Garden. Well, maybe skating was a bit too generous a word for it. Most of them had never even been on skates before and there was a lot of falling, but there was a lot of laughter, too. The kids were having a blast, which would be great for the photo shoot. If they were this excited about being on the ice, they’d be beside themselves when the Rangers arrived.

Pacing the rug that had been placed on the ice for suits like herself, she began strategizing. Landing the Garden of Dreams charity as a client had been a big win for PBA and she was thrilled Cole had assigned her to the campaign. He expected her social media expertise to be an asset, translating to more publicity and ultimately, more funding. Bottom line, PBA needed to fill the coffers with donations by year-end. Although she was excited about the opportunity, there was no denying the crushing weight that had settled on her shoulders as a result. The foundation was counting on her, and the last thing she wanted to do was let the kids down. Whatever it took, she had to make the campaign a success. After all, wasn’t that what she’d promised herself? That she’d put her love life on the back burner and focus on something worthwhile for a change?

Problem was, she was still trying to piece herself back together from those mind-blowing orgasms Ryan had given her Friday night. Thank God it was a one shot deal. No way could she handle more than one night of hot sex with that man. And didn’t it just figure that the most infuriating man she’d met in all her life was actually a sex god in disguise? She was pretty sure he’d ruined her for any other man with that pleasure-giving body of his. He’d marked her for life, leaving her with memories no other man could live up to. Hell, she was getting turned on just thinking about him. Which was exactly why she needed to forget about their night together and focus on her job. She scanned the arena, spotting Cole on the far side of the rink. Common sense told her he was there to meet the Rangers, not check up on her work, but seeing him onsite was all the motivation she needed to clear her head. The man might be her friend Olivia’s knight in shining armor, but from eight to five, he was also the boss.

Squaring her shoulders, she went to work.

The next fifteen minutes were spent sharing her vision for the shoot with the photographers. The real trick would be getting the kids, who currently looked as if they’d been mainlining Pixy Stix, settled enough to do their testimonials. That was why she’d convinced the photographers it was best to let them skate for a while and then meet the players. If she was lucky, they’d burn off some energy before transitioning into the serious stuff.

Halfway through her review of the cue cards, the kids started going wild, screaming and howling. Unable to concentrate, she glanced up to see the Rangers filing out of the players tunnel and joining the kids on the ice. Their excitement was contagious, and she found herself smiling right along with them. An experience like this would leave a lasting impression on these kids, hopefully changing some of their lives for the better. The Rangers did a quick lap around the rink, moving at breakneck speed, which only made the kids scream louder, shouting the names of their favorite players, vying for their attention and cheering them to victory in the impromptu race. As the players came full circle and skated to center ice to meet their pintsized fans, one face stood out among the rest.

Son. Of. A. Bitch!

No way. No
freaking
way.

This could not be happening. She blinked, hoping her eyes were playing a dirty trick on her. But no, there he was. Clean shaven. Hot. And wearing a Rangers jersey.

Ryan.

Ryan Douglas, apparently.

There was a very real possibility she was going to die of embarrassment. Or melt into a puddle of goo right there on the damn rug. Much as she hated to admit it, he looked even better than she remembered, gliding across the ice in all his perfect male glory. Lust pooled in her belly. It didn’t help that she knew exactly how lickable his sinewy body was underneath that uniform. Strong arms, muscular chest, and her personal favorite, V-cut abs. What wasn’t to like? The man was ripped. His shaggy hair brushed the collar of his jersey, and his crooked nose suddenly seemed even sexier, if that was possible. How had he broken it? Stray puck? Elbow? Fight? No, wait. That was so
not
the point.

What the hell? They weren’t supposed to see each other again.
Ever.
There was only one logical explanation. Clearly the universe hated her. She was being punished for breaking her no sex rule five seconds after swearing off men.

Stop!
Don’t freak out, she coached herself. Maybe if she kept her head down and her mouth shut, he wouldn’t see her. The players were totally focused on the kids, who were sure to keep them busy for the next hour. She’d just lay low and—

“Hey, Chloe!”

Damn! Her head shot up, searching for the source.

“Chloe! We need some advice over here. Got a minute?”

She waved to Becca, her Garden of Dreams liaison, hoping to shut her up before she attracted the attention of everyone in the tri-state area, namely Ryan. Sneaking a peek in his direction, she found his gaze locked on her like a heat-seeking missile.

Double damn.

Pretending not to see him, she joined Becca and the other PR guys, answering their questions and focusing on her job. Every menial little task. Every minute detail. Anything to avoid thinking about that night. About Ryan.

Although she was doing her best to ignore him, she could feel his eyes on her as he worked with the kids. The slow burn that crept up the back of her neck was a dead giveaway. No matter how hard she tried, it was impossible to shut him out. Hell, hot under the collar didn’t even begin to describe her current situation. When she couldn’t take it for another second, and she thought her hair might actually go up in flames, she cracked.

Abandoning all pretense, Chloe watched Ryan glide across the ice backward, the kids giggling and swiping at him with their sticks, doing their best to steal the puck. Much as she hated to admit it, he was good with them and the smile on his face suggested he was having as much fun as they were. She cut her eyes at the photographers. They were eating it up. At least they’d have plenty of material to use for the campaign. Returning her gaze to her iPad, she watched from under her lashes as Ryan and a couple of the other players attempted to teach the kids to pass a puck. She grinned. It was a complete disaster. They were too excited to take direction and the pucks were flying all over the place. But everyone was having fun and that was the only thing that mattered.

Too bad the more she watched Ryan with the kids, the more pissed off she got, realizing she’d probably been a big freaking joke to him. She was the only one in the stupid store that hadn’t recognized him. It all made sense now. The free groceries. The cops falling all over themselves to take his statement. His hesitation to explain when she asked him about it. Not only was Ryan a hockey player, but judging by the big ol’
C
on his chest, he was also the freaking team captain. God, she was such a fool. And probably the only person in the whole damn city who didn’t know his name or his face.

Why would she? She didn’t give a crap about hockey, and really, things like this didn’t happen to girls like her. Why would someone as sinfully hot and famous as Ryan Douglas have sex with her anyway? Especially after she’d told him about her broken date. Humiliation burned her cheeks. Two words came to mind, and try as she might, she couldn’t chase them away.

Pity fuck
.

O
f all the gin joints…
At the sound of Chloe’s name, Ryan found himself doing a double take, scanning the arena for her face. After the night they’d shared? Hell, his cock did a double take, too, hoping for an encore performance. And against all odds, there she was, prancing around in a tight little black skirt and a pair of sky-high red fuck me heels that should have been outlawed. She wore her hair down, her curls looking as wild as they had when she’d been coming for him Friday night. An image of her climaxing on the kitchen counter, hips rocking, lips parted, flashed through his mind, making his shorts uncomfortably tight. He shifted his weight and his train of thought. What was she doing at The Garden anyway? Not that he was complaining. The view from the ice was a hell of a lot better. It had occurred to him they might bump into one another at the corner store again, but he’d never imagined she might show up here. He leaned on his stick, watching as she buzzed around giving orders and doing her damndest to avoid his stare, focusing her attention everywhere but the ice. He’d rectify that situation soon enough, but first he had some fans to meet.

“Hey, Jordy!” he yelled to one of his linemen, tapping his stick on the ice. “Why don’t we show these kids how to pass and see if we’ve got any future Rangers in the group?”

The kids cheered and repeated his move, signaling they, too, were ready to receive the puck. Ryan grinned, feeding off their excitement. Being team captain was about more than just leading the guys on the ice and scoring goals. It was about being a good role model and giving back to the community, something he enjoyed immensely. Especially when he got to work with kids. After all, it wasn’t that long ago he was in their shoes, just hoping to make his dream a reality. Of course, he’d had far more advantages than these kids, growing up as he had with two parents who had the means and willingness to support his dream of playing pro hockey. He’d been damn lucky. Which was another reason he took his responsibility to the community, and these kids, seriously.

Jordy flipped him the puck, which he received with ease, letting it crack hard against his stick as he cradled it. He spent the next hour teaching the fundamentals of the game, but he never lost sight of Chloe. Hell, his cock wouldn’t let him forget her presence, even if he wanted to. Fate had dropped her on the rink and he’d be damned before he let the opportunity pass, especially since she seemed hell-bent on ignoring him.

When the time came for a water break, he broke away from the group, skating directly to the spot where she stood tapping away on her tablet like she was pissed at the world.

“Hey, princess. Do I need to remind you that stalking is against the law?”

Those angry little fingers froze on the screen. Her chest rose and fell, her full breasts taunting him. Finally she looked up, her dark eyes shining under the bright lights of the arena.

“Am I being punk’d?” She frowned, her pinched lips leaving no doubt as to how she felt about the prospect. Her eyes skated over his face, taking in the sweat dripping down his brow. Her breath came fast and furious. From anger? The cold? Something else entirely? “You cannot be a pro hockey player!”

“Why not?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips. Unable to decide if he should be offended by her assumption or flattered, he decided to just go with it. “Give me one good reason.”

“Because you still have all your teeth and I can spell your last name!” She poked him in the chest for good measure, which was just ridiculous, considering he towered over her in his pads and skates. He threw his head back and laughed, drawing the attention of the photographers. “Look, you’ve had your fun, screwing the clueless girl in the furry boots, now leave me alone. I’m done being the butt of your joke or a pity fuck or whatever it was. I’m working,” she whisper-yelled through clenched teeth.

Was she serious? She must think he was a first class asshole. He tried to see it from her perspective and realized nothing he said was going to change her mind right here, right now. It hadn’t been his intention to mislead her. He’d started to tell her, but something had held him back.

Normalcy
.

It was nice being with someone who saw him as a regular guy, and not an NHL star, for a change. It had been a long time since he’d just been Ryan. He sighed. The woman was stubborn as hell, but two could play at that game. The difference was, he didn’t care who was watching.

“I’m not leaving until you give me your number.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” she said, placing a hand on her hip. “I told you, I’m swearing off men. Especially cocky, arrogant athletes.”

“What?” he asked, arching his brow. “Now you have a problem with hockey players?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re a quick one, aren’t you?”

“It hasn’t exactly been a problem in the past.” Hell, most of the women he met were falling all over themselves to bed an NHL player. Oh, they didn’t come right out and say it, but they didn’t have to. Sometimes actions spoke louder than words. Tamping down his irritation, Ryan leaned in close, ensuring that only she could hear his next words. They were so close he could smell her perfume, a sensual floral blend with a sweet edge that got his blood thrumming harder than any lap around the rink ever could. “That was before I ate that beautiful pussy of yours, which, if I remember correctly, you thor-
o
-ughly enjoyed.”

Chloe’s jaw nearly hit the ice. Her cheeks were flaming, and if looks could kill, he’d have been a goner. Unfortunately for her, he’d never been one to give up easily. Not when he wanted something, and right now he wanted to get this woman on her back screaming his name.

“Look, sweetie, the other night was fun, but it was a one-time thing. You know, because of the feels and whatnot from being in a high stress situation,” she finished, turning shuttered eyes on him. Which of them she was trying to convince with her little speech? Maybe she’d been more affected by their night together than she cared to admit. She ran a hand through her hair, as if maintaining that prim and polished look of hers could erase all the dirty things they’d done to one another in her kitchen. “Garden of Dreams is a really important account for me and I need to look good, so get your ass back over there and play captain of the Neanderthals for the kids.”

“Not until you give me your number.” He leaned on his stick, letting her know he had no intention of moving. After six years in a relationship, he’d forgotten how exciting it could be to discover a new lover, especially one as responsive as Chloe. He needed another night with the sexy little vixen in front of him. One taste hadn’t been nearly enough.