He kissed up my body until his lips met mine. He slipped his finger between the fabric of my panties and my body. “You’re so wet,” he growled.
It wasn’t an exaggeration. I wanted to feel Nick inside of me so badly that the ache between my legs had become almost unbearable. A gasp escaped my lips as he slipped a finger inside me. “Nick.” My breaths were coming heavy and fast.
“Yes, Evie.” He kissed my breastbone.
“I need you to do something.”
He pressed up and looked me in the eyes. “Anything.”
“Make love to me.”
And that night, he did. Twice. And then once in the morning.
TWENTY-THREE
NICK
The three ofus piled into my truck and headed into Chance Rapids. It was me, Rocky, and Evie; and nothing had ever felt more complete in my life. I’d come to Chance Rapids a lonely single man who was failing at his career, and now I had a place on a river, with the cutest dog, and a…dare I say it—girlfriend.
The only complicated thing in my life was going to be the fallout from my arrangement with Coalman. It would be messy, but going through with the plan to fix the game seemed like a betrayal of the worst kind.
The parking lot was already filling up as we arrived. Evie was going to drop me off at the rink and then pick up GJ in my truck. I put Berta in Park, cut the engine, then kissed Evie on the cheek and handed her the keys. “Where are you going to sit?”
“Are you kidding?” She laughed and pointed to the rink. “GJ has VIP tickets. We’ll be in that gold row.” A line of plush seats sponsored by local businesses sat in front of the metal bleachers.
We got out and met at the hood. Wrapping my armsaround her, I squeezed her tightly. “You’re incredible. Last night was the best night of my life.”
Her blue eyes sparkled as she looked at me. “Now go have the best day of your life, Number Nine.”
Adrenaline surged through my body, although it was different than the sport kind; I’m not an expert, but I had the feeling it was the love kind. I kissed her once more then opened the door to pat Rocky on the head. “You keep an eye on her.” Rocky tilted his head to lean into the scratch then curled up on the passenger seat.
I waited until the taillights of my truck were out of sight before heading into the dressing room.
Life was good.
The first time I pressed into Evie, I swore out loud, she was so fucking tight. The second time we made love, the moon had been over the river, shining directly into the loft. We fucked like we’d known each other’s bodies for twenty years—but with the novelty and excitement of two strangers doing it for the first time.
We explored each other but instinctively seemed to know what the other needed and wanted. At least that’s how it felt to me. We had moved in sync. My hands gripped her hips as she rocked against my body, but I didn’t have to guide her. I came first, and faster than I would’ve liked. She did me in when she turned around and did a reverse cowgirl. I’d seen her skills at riding horses, and that translated to riding my cock.
The second round, I’d brought her to the brink with my mouth, leaving her quivering on the sheets before pressing into her warmth. I threaded my fingers through hers and she wrapped her thighs around my waist. We’d come at the same time—and that was a new one for me. She’d moaned out my name at the same time as my balls tightened, her walls contracting around my dick as I filled the condom.
“Yo, Tinsel. What are you doing just standing there?”
Mack slapped me on the back and jogged into the temporary dressing room. I blinked. The game. I needed to get my head out of pussy and into hockey. I cleared my throat and adjusted the semi in my pants.
The walls of the temporary building buzzed. Chaser had brought a huge speaker, and “Thunderstruck” shook its walls. It was game time, and my energy kicked up a notch or ten.
Coach came in and gave what would’ve been a motivational speech—if I didn’t have insider info. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. He repulsed me, and in turn, I was disgusted at myself that I’d even entertained fixing the game.
I breathed out as Coach left the building. In the best-case scenario, the Eagles wouldn’t get any shots. I could control what went into the net when it got there, but if nothing was shot at me, it was out of my hands. It would be easy to explain how I failed the “mission.”
In the distance, the crowd cheered. The Chance Rapids Kittens, the five-year-olds, were putting on an exhibition match. Following up those cute little bastards was going to be tough. There was nothing more adorable than a bunch of kids on skates, hovering around the puck like a swarm of bobblehead bees.
While ACDC blared out of Chaser’s speaker, I rested my elbows on my knees and got serious. I tuned out the music and laughter in the dressing room. I imagined pucks hitting my glove, bouncing off my pads, and the disappointment of a breakaway player as I blocked his shot.
One of the volunteers wearing a headset and holding a clipboard stuck his head into the dressing room. “Five minutes, guys.”
Before the door closed, Coach stepped into the room and pointed at me. I inhaled sharply. I’d hoped to avoid a Coalman conversation until after the game. I was in the right headspace; a confrontation might knock me out of the zone.
