Page 16 of For Puck’s Sake (Seattle Vipers #2)

FIFTEEN

RIDLEY

“ W e know who she is,” Hazel tells me before I can even get a greeting in. I turn to the empty passenger seat waiting for Brea, who is still staying in the guest house despite my pleas for her to stay in the main house with me. I’m both excited and nervous to hear this news from Hazel. I’ve been waiting long enough. The timing though.

It’s been two days since our lunch and subsequent re-establishment of our relationship. Two days since my lips touched Brea’s, and God, I’ve been dreaming about her legs thrown over my shoulders while I devour her sweetness. My mouth, licking and sucking every inch of her silky soft brown skin. When I hear her voice, I’m so hard its painful. The sway of her hips makes me salivate. I’m a sexually frustrated mess, and I’ve been this way for a while now. My entire body is awake, humming, buzzing with need after months of locking my dick down with only my hand for company. But since our kiss, there’s been nothing. Not even a second kiss, to my tortured dicks dismay.

I check the time on my phone and watch the door, eager for my girl to come out, but wanting her to stay away long enough for me to have this conversation. “I’m not interested in who she is Hazel,” I snap in rushed irritation. Not wanting to sound callous, I couldn’t remember the mystery woman anyway. None of them were memorable, they filled a need, nothing more. “This is clearly a trap. I haven’t been with anyone since before Lia’s birthday party last year. That was over six months ago, so, unless she’s about to pop, I say her story is far-fetched.” I hate to have this type of discussion at all. I’ve been so careful with the females I allowed in my bed. There’s no way.

Hazel clears her throat, and I know she’s about to drop a bomb I’m not ready for. “Well, Ridley, she’s eight months pregnant. I know you well enough to know you’re responsible, but unfortunately there’s a realm of possibility we have to rule out. I have already arranged a DNA test. I will get this cleared up for you. I have the entire team on this. We’ve been combing social media, taking down as many posts we can. We’ve kept the gossip in the press to a minimum. You’ve hid yourself well, continue to do so. But I want you to be prepared to deal with this for a little while longer. I’ve threatened her with a lawsuit a mile long if she posts any more with regards to the baby being yours.”

“How long?” I ask. I don’t want this to bleed into preseason training. I don’t want the press questioning me about it. I want it to disappear. Furthermore, I don’t want this hanging over my relationship with Brea. Everything between us is still shaky. I think we both know our days are numbered and we are going to have to part ways. I hate it, but I won’t lose her again. I promised to support her, we will make it work. She is worth my every effort. I need her to believe it. The baby drama may be too much for her. I don’t want it to be her determining factor on whether or not we separate as a couple and go our separate ways. It’s not an option I’m willing to accept, not this time, never again.

“Give me a month, Ridley,” Hazel replies but it only pisses me off at how slowly this is unfolding. I know Hazel is doing her job. She never fails me, but my anxiety is heightened. I desperately want this to work.

I slam my hand against the steering wheel in frustration just as the door opens and Brea steps out with her guitar case in hand. “I don’t have a month, Hazel. Brea and I?—"

“Brea? Ridley? Wait. Brea. What does she have to do with this? What are you not telling me, Ridley Masters?” Hazel asks and I can tell she’s getting upset as I hear the flicker of her lighter over the phone. The woman thinks a cigarette can solve every problem. I’ve never seen her without one unless we are somewhere she can’t smoke. She needs to give that shit up, but she refuses to listen.

“We are both here in Lark Bay. Back together. Starting over,” I stutter to explain as I watch the object of my obsession walk toward me. She smiles so wide, I’m hypnotized, so transfixed I drown out Hazels confused mutterings of ‘how did this happen?’, ‘are you sure this is the best time for this, Ridley?’ in the background.

“Ridley, are you listening?” Hazel says, making her annoyance with me clear by her clipped tone.

“Not anymore. I have to go, Hazel. I trust you will keep me posted,” I say, wanting to cut the call before Brea makes it to the car.

Hazel scoffs. “We are not done with this conversation, Ridley Masters. I told you to lay low, not go to Lark Bay to rekindle an old flame. Need I remind you of how broken you were when she left you without an explanation. You almost ruined your hockey career that season. I care about you, Ridley. You’re not just my client, you’re like a son to me, and Lia’s like a daughter. I don’t want to see you hurt again.” She sighs, suddenly sounding tired. I know she’s not happy about Brea and me. She picked me up off the floor, along with Tor, Devan, and Bast. I was a mess, but they all helped me through it the best way they could.

“I know you don’t,” I say softening my tone. I genuinely love my little scrappy agent. “But I’ve been lost without her, Hazel. I love her, I never stopped. I have to try.”

“Fine. I’ll call you as soon as I hear back from the labs. But Ridley, I don’t see any way this ends well,” she says, hanging up before I can reply, and I’m left staring at my phone bewildered. Yep, she’s definitely being my stand-in momma bear about this. I get it. I understand her concerns. There are no straight roads in this scenario that lead Brea and I back to the way we were. Maybe that’s a good thing though. It makes the fight to drive through the rough and tough terrain worthwhile. I’m ready to fight for us.

I blow out a breath, pushing my fingers through my hair, clutching my strands for a brief moment trying to get a grip on my emotions. Hazel’s parting words leave a bitter taste in my mouth. I am all too aware of the obstacles standing in the way of my happiness, but I refuse to think about it. I want to spend as much time as I can in the now with my girl, instead of fretting about the future. A future that’s getting closer and closer with each passing day.

The passenger door opens and Brea slides in beside me. Her vanilla and honey scent hits my nose as her long dark brown locs swing in my direction. I want to wrap my fingers around them, pull her close and plunder her soft pillowy dark red lips. Her beauty is always breathtaking, and I’m one lucky man to have her here with me right now. My eyes wander, taking in her dainty summer dress, ankle-length brown suede boots, and the long gold chains that dangle down between her breasts. God, she looks too delectable to be on stage in this. My possessive side rears its ugly head, but I stamp it down. Inner Alpha at zero, Ridley.

“Hey,” she says, sighing contentedly as she settles into the plush leather seats. “Thank you for taking me tonight. I could get used to my own personal chauffeur.” She smirks.

“Angel, you don’t have to ask. I will drive you for as long as you’re here. You’re mine. I don’t want to spend a minute away from you if I don’t have to for the rest of our time here,” I declare as my eyes continue to peruse her body. The fringed hem of her cream-colored dress rides up her cocoa butter slick thighs, and all thoughts of my previous conversation disappears as blood leaves my brain and travels south. I smell her lotion, and memories tease and taunt me of all the nights I lay between her legs. An unbidden groan escapes me as I take her in, brown skin, long legs tempting my tongue, breasts spilling out of the top of her bodice, neck and shoulders on display, begging for my lips. There is so much of her on show I have to shift and adjust my growing length. Is she intentionally trying to kill me? I won’t survive the night.

Brea adjusts her guitar case between her legs, and for the first time in my life I find myself jealous of an inanimate object. “Everything okay?” She glances over at me with concern, and for a moment I worry she witnessed my distress from my phone call with Hazel. Then those luscious lips turn up in a knowing smirk. Oh, she knows exactly what the sight of her is doing to me. She can feel my eyes on her and now she wants to play.

“Do I need to spell out how sexy you look, Luna? My dick is singing your praises and I’m not afraid to admit it. Hell, I want to be Bessie right now if it means I can rest comfortably between your thighs.” I wink as I start the car and shift into reverse.

“Is that so?” she asks, a slow, seductive smile graces her gorgeous face. “I think I need you to spell it out for me, Masters.” Her voice is melodic, low and sultry. Fuck . Then she bites her lower lip between her teeth and all my will shatters. If I could turn back time, driving a sports car to Lark Bay wouldn’t have been my first choice. For car gymnastics, my SUV would have been more appropriate, but I’m willing to get my ass stuck between the dash and the seats to get to her. Jaws of life be damned; the embarrassment would be worth it. I can see the social media headlines now: Masters gets caught in a jam.

The image of me with my face plastered to the passenger side window in a precarious position doesn’t stop me from reacting. I stop the car and slowly turn to glance at my woman. Yes, she is fucking mine. All joking aside, there’s sexual tension between us, it’s been brimming under the surface from the moment I saw her playing under the moon light on the dock. Things left unsaid, incomplete, unfinished between us. Now we’re here, skirting around what we want, the burn is too fucking slow for my taste. It’s excruciating. I won’t go another night without Brea in my bed. But this, our bodies, they haven’t forgotten our connection. Our hearts and minds may pretend, but the souls know.

Brea’s eyes widen, but she should have seen this coming. I have zero will power when it comes to her. Leaning my big ass hockey body over the center console, I trap her between me and the passenger door. I move so fast Brea doesn’t get a chance to react. My mouth descends on hers, and I take her bottom lip between my teeth, sucking, nipping, and soothing at the same time.

Brea whimpers into my mouth and the sound feeds my erection, my dick is so desperate it strains painfully against my zipper. As much as I need and want her, playing tiny car sex Tetris is not the way I want to reclaim my Angel. I command my dick to stand down and pull my face away just enough to speak, chest heaving, our breaths mingling. She wants me to spell it out for her, then her wish is my command.

“You”— Kiss— “Are”— Kiss —“H”— Kiss —“O”— Kiss —“T”— Kiss— I leave one last lingering kiss, wanting to imprint myself. I want her to feel my lips on hers all night. “I missed the taste of your lips on mine. I missed having my way with you, Angel,” I say drawing away, and situate myself in my seat, leaving behind a breathless, kiss-drunk Brea. I start the car and pull out of the drive. I play it cool, like I didn’t just have my tongue down her throat.

Brea clears her throat, clearly trying to compose herself. She smooths her dress down over her knees. I catch her little wiggle out the corner of my eye as she shifts in her seat. The sight makes my lips quirk up in a smirk.

“Everything okay?” I ask in smug satisfaction, throwing her question from earlier right back at her. Oh yes, my sweet Angel, my body hasn’t forgotten how to play with yours, I think to myself as she crosses her arms over her chest in a huff.

“Okay, you win. My panties are ruined,” she says petulantly, making me laugh as she finishes her grumble with a pout of her delicious kiss swollen bottom lip. Oh, how I’ve missed this.

“Good. Then you can think about all the ways I’m going to fuck you later. Because there will be a later, Angel. I guarantee it.” Brea huffs out a laugh at my declaration, but she doesn’t tell me no. I take that as a win. Yes, I’m being brazen, but what is it they say, a closed mouth doesn’t get fed.

“You’re so certain, Mr. Masters,” she says playfully. “I’m a sure thing, huh?”

I growl mischievously, gripping the steering wheel, narrowing my eyes as I shift my gaze to her quickly before refocusing on the road again. “Then I will take my prize now, give me your soaked panties. If I can’t have you tonight, I want to be able to smell the effect I have on your body, carry it around with me all night as a reminder.”

Brea’s eyes widen comically. “I can’t give you my panties, Rid. I will be sitting on a stool and singing for the rest of the night, remember.”

I shrug. “Not my problem, Angel. I told you what I want. Give me your panties or give me your body, beautiful. The choice is yours, but either way, I want you wet and dripping for me all night.”

Her mouth falls open and I can’t help myself. I reach over with my hand and gently touch her chin, pressing up until her mouth is closed. “Don’t be shocked, Luna. I’m still the same man you fell in love with, filthy mouth and all.”

“Ridley.” Brea smiles, mouth opening with what I am sure is a sassy retort, but her facial expression falls, becoming neutral and her comeback doesn’t come. I continue to drive, waiting patiently for her to pull her thoughts together, but as we get closer to Solo Red’s my composure slips, and concern follows. Is she having second thoughts? Did I say something wrong? For a brief second, she was right there with me, we were us, teasing and playful, now she’s lost in her head, staring outside. She promised to talk to me, and damn it, I am not going to let her fall back into old habits so soon.

The drive from Tor’s to the main strip of town is a short one. Obviously, not long enough for Brea to break the stalemate between us. I want to say something yet also give her the space she needs to speak first, but navigating all of this is complicated.

So, I give her space and take in the picturesque sight of Lark Bay at sunset. The sun is going down, painting the sky in beautiful pink, orange, and purple brushstrokes. The bay sparkles in the last sunlight, the water moving languidly in the distance as the tide begins to go out for the night. Families are still milling around, enjoying the last dregs of another summer day, the shops are closing, giving way to Lark Bay’s nightlife.

Red’s bar won’t be busy for another hour, but people are already lining up on the sidewalk to see Brea. I’ve been there almost every night, and I’ve watched these lines grow with every performance. I’m in awe of her success. I’m proud of my Angel’s accomplishments, and yes, there’s a part of me that believes maybe Red was right when she said Brea wouldn’t have this if she’d stayed with me. The reality of that truth stings like a bitch, but here we are. It doesn’t do me any good to speculate whether she would or wouldn’t be just as successful or not. None of that matters now. I’m celebrating her today, tomorrow, for the rest of our lives if she will let me. I’m going to be the fanboy for a change. I will cheer my girl on from the ice or in the audience. I just want her to know I am in this with her, no matter the complications.

Pulling into the parking lot at the back of the bar, I find a spot and ease my car into it only to find a glaring Dean waiting at the back door. He checks his watch, then narrows his eyes as he stares me down. That’s right, asshole, I’m dropping her off. Mine . I stare right back, hoping it goes without saying what this means. Although, I wouldn’t mind talking it out with brute force. If it were up to me, Dean wouldn’t be anywhere near Brea but that’s not my decision to make, unfortunately. After weeks of performing in the same venue, you would think she wouldn’t have to arrive so early every day. But God forbid Brea doesn’t show up on time for sound check. Glancing at my watch, she is indeed not late, so the fact that he is standing out here like he has a right to scold her only makes me want to bloody up his face even more. No, this is Dean’s own form of possessive control, but there is only one man possessing the woman sitting stoically beside me. Yes, it’s me.

The passenger door opens, pulling my eyes away from Dean. Brea picks up Bessie to get out of the car, but there is no way I’m leaving us like this. Reaching out, I run my hand over her arm, making her pause. Brea turns and looks over her shoulders, brows lifting in question, then her eyes soften, and she blows out a breath.

“I’m not running, Ridley. I want what you want. I really do,” she replies shoulders slumping forward and all I want to do is wrap her up and tell her not to worry, because I have a feeling I know where this is going. “We have three weeks, Rid, then I’m leaving for Austin. What’s the point of starting over when we?—"

“I love you, Luna,” I say without a shadow of doubt. My feelings may have lain dormant inside me for these past few years without her, but nothing’s changed. My heart knows. “I can’t express how very proud of you I truly am, baby. But know this, there is nothing, and I mean nothing, that will stand in my way when it comes to keeping you. I know you are concerned about the time we have left. But I say don’t be. Let’s live in the now with each other, enjoy every minute of it. It won’t end in three weeks,” I say reassuringly. I let my hand on her arm travel down until I link my fingers with hers.

“We tried to make it work before, though,” she rebuffs, her face pinched in concern.

“Did we though? We both could have done things differently back then, but the blinders were on both of us, Angel. I didn’t see what you needed from me, and you honestly didn’t trust me enough to let me know you were struggling,” I say, hoping this doesn’t hit a nerve, but Brea just looks at me with a small smile, nodding her head slowly as if she’s impressed with me.

“So astute, Mr. Masters.” Brea lifts our joined hands to her lips and kisses the back of my hand. My heart cracks wide open with the gesture. There she is. Brea blows out another fortifying breath then drops our hands in her lap. “Okay, we enjoy the time we have. We don’t worry about the ticking clock. This is for the rest of our lives, right?” She looks at me hesitantly, like I’m going to rebut her words.

Leaning over the center console, knowing we have an audience I capture her lips with mine. “Yes, Angel, this is for the rest of our lives,” I say against her lips.

Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Brea Brookes has finally caught on. Now I just have to make it stick that we are forever.