Page 3 of On Ice

Evan

My footsteps echo through the empty corridor as I make my way to the owner’s box. The arena feels different after a game, hollow somehow, with just the lingering energy of fifteen thousand fans still vibrating in the air. My dress shoes click against the polished concrete, each step bringing me closer to a meeting I have no interest in.

Sofia walks beside me, her heels creating a rhythmic counterpoint to my steps. She’s unusually quiet, focused on tapping away at her phone. When we reach the private elevator, she finally looks up.

Taking advantage of her attention at last, I ask, “So, who is this guy?”

Her gaze flickers. “Mr. Luca Barone purchased the team two months ago.” Her voice is carefully neutral. “The announcement goes public tomorrow morning.”

Luca Barone. The name tickles something in the back of my mind, but I can’t place it. At least I finally have a name though. “What happened to the Silicon Valley group that was interested?”

“Fell through.” She lifts her chin. “But Mr. Barone’s offer was... very generous. He seems to value you guys more than the Silicon Valley group ever did.”

There’s that tone again, like she’s choosing her words with unusual care. Before I can ask what she means, the elevator arrives at the executive level. The elevator doors slide open with a soft ding. We step out into a corridor that is all dark wood and subtle lighting, a stark contrast to the utilitarian concrete below.

Two men in suits stand outside the owner’s box. They’re trying to look casual, but I’ve been around hockey long enough to recognize security when I see it. Their eyes track our movement as we approach, and I notice the slight bulge of shoulder holsters under their jackets. What kind of owner needs armed guards at a hockey game?

The guards open the double doors, and we step into the owner’s box. The room still has the same dated décor I’m familiar with. It’s as if time stood still inside the room. There are photos of previous team members on the faux paneled walls, and tarnished trophies from past victories on the shelves behind the TV. Judging by how slick the guy at the window looks in his fancy suit, I’m guessing the place will likely get a makeover. Musty orange shag carpeting and trophies he had no hand in winning probably aren’t his style.

“Mr. Barone, this is Evan Riley, the captain of the team.” Sofia makes the introductions in an overly bright voice. She’s definitely on edge. I’ve never seen her like this, and her nerves are making mine worse.

Luca Barone doesn’t turn around immediately. He continues to stand with his back to us as he gazes down at the empty rink. He’s tall, maybe an inch or two taller than my six-two, with broad shoulders that his clearly expensive suit does nothing to hide. When he finally turns, our eyes meet, and I suddenly understand why Sofia’s been acting strange. There’s something almost feral about him, from his sharp jawline to the calculating intelligence in his dark gray eyes.

“Captain Riley.” His voice is deep, and he crosses the room with fluid grace, extending his hand. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

His grip is firm, and his hand is warm against mine. Up close, he’s even more striking. He has olive skin, dark hair styled perfectly, and eyes that seem to see right through me. His cologne is a very masculine scent that’s a mix of smoky cedarwood and rich leather. I can’t tell if he’s older than me or not, but he carries himself with the kind of confidence that makes age irrelevant.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Barone.” I hope I sound confident. I don’t feel confident. I feel a bit like a kid meeting the principal. This man will have complete control over my hockey future for now. If he takes an instant dislike to me, contract or no contract, he could do things that would force me off the team.

But he doesn’t seem to dislike me on sight. In fact, he smiles and something in my chest tightens. A chill runs up my spine, but also a hot sensation flutters over my skin. It’s not an unpleasant feeling, but it is disconcerting. I’ve never felt anything quite like the heated rush shifting through me.

“That last goal was impressive,” he says quietly.

His compliment is like warm honey seeping into every pore in my body. Why praise from this man I don’t know affects me so much, I’m not sure. But it does. I instantly feel on top of the world. I stifle what would no doubt be a goofy smile, and fall back on captain-speak. “The team’s been working hard,” I say. “We’ve had a rough few months, but the guys never quit.”

“I’m happy to hear it. I don’t like quitters.” He gestures to the chairs. “Take a seat. Can I offer you a drink? The owner’s box might look like a relic from the 70s, but the scotch behind the bar isn’t bad.”

I should say no. I’ve already had some champagne in the locker room, celebrating with the team, and I plan on drinking later with the guys. But something about the way he’s looking at me makes me want to dull my nerves with booze.

“Sure, thank you.”

He turns to Sofia. “Would you like to stay?” His tone makes it clear he doesn’t expect her to, and she takes the hint.

“Oh, no, thank you. I have a million things to take care of.” She smiles and moves to the door. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Evan. Congrats on the win tonight.”

“Thanks.” I smile, almost sad to see her go. With her here she created a little buffer, but now it will just be me and my gorgeous new boss.

Once Sofia is gone, he pours two glasses from a crystal decanter. When he hands me mine, our fingers brush, and I feel that contact all the way up my arm. I feel stupid for having such a visceral reaction to my new boss, but I can’t seem to help it. There’s just something about him that really gets to me.

“I understand you’ve been captain for three years now?” He sits across from me, one leg crossed over the other, completely at ease. Meanwhile, I’m having an internal meltdown.

“That’s right.” The scotch isn’t bad, just like he said. It’s smooth and complex, and I take another sip to buy time before having to speak. “Started playing for Seabrooke right out of juniors.”

“And you’re from Minnesota originally?” At my surprised look, he smiles again. “I like to know everything about my investments. Especially the important ones, Evan.”

The way he says my name makes my cheeks warm, and I’m grateful for the dim lighting. “Uh, yeah. I’m from a small town in Minnesota. Hockey’s a religion there.”

“Are you a religious man, Evan?” My name rolls off his tongue like he’s tasting it.

“Not particularly, no.”

He nods. “Tell me about the team.”

“I’m sure the roster has more info than I can give you.” I squirm in my seat. I’m not sure what he wants from me. Does he want me to throw people under the bus, and point out their weaknesses? Does he want gossip or stats? “Have you read the roster?”

He smiles and it changes his entire face into a work of art. He was already gorgeous, but his smile is fucking breathtaking. “Of course. But I’m not interested in people’s weight, age, or jersey numbers. I want to know details about the people on the team I just bought.”

I lift my chin. “I’m not going to give you dirt on my teammates so that you can use it against them.”

He laughs, looking surprised at my push back. “Is that what you think I want the information for? It isn’t. I’d rather know the team’s strengths.”

“Oh.” I feel foolish now for misjudging him. “I wasn’t sure.”

He studies me. “I get that you don’t know me and therefore you don’t trust me. But I don’t think there’s anything particularly sinister about me wanting to know what the good things are about my team. I paid a lot of money and I would love to know more about my investment. But on a more personal level than the roster can give me.”

I rub my jaw, watching him. He sounds sincere. Maybe he truly does just want to know the strengths of the team he just purchased. Seems like a reasonable request.

When I don’t speak, he nudges me a bit. “For example, is there anyone on the team who seems like a natural mentor?”

I hesitate. “Uh, yeah. Actually, Deck is really good with the younger players. He takes them under his wing and he helps them a lot.”

“Excellent. Sounds like Deck is a good man.”

“He is.” I relax a little, a combination of the scotch and the fact that he does seem happy to hear positive stuff about the guys. “Torres is someone who will make a mark, you just watch.”

“Is that right?” Luca says softly.

“Yeah.” I smile. “He’s got attitude, but he’s balls-to-the-wall good. He’s young, so he has a lot to learn, but he’s really promising.”

“Good to know.” He sips his drink and then says, “What else can you share about your teammates?”

For the next twenty minutes, I find myself talking more than I meant to. The more I talk the easier it gets because Luca is a good listener. I tell him about Noah’s leadership in the room. I spill information about the late paychecks and broken equipment and how the training staff is doing the work of three people. Luca listens intently, asking smart questions that show he’s done his homework.

When I finally run out of stuff to tell him, I fall silent. We stare at each other for a few moments without speaking.

Then he stands, buttoning his jacket in one smooth motion. “Have dinner with me,” he says firmly.

“Dinner?” I repeat blankly. The team is already at the bar, well into their celebration by now. I want to join them, but there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to walk away just yet from my intriguing new boss. I was wary of him at first, but so far, he’s been nothing but charming and attentive. I’d expected to spend the meeting stroking his ego, but if anything, he’s been the one stroking mine.

“You probably want to be with your team after your win,” he says, shrugging. “Suit yourself. I just thought we could maybe get to know each other better over dinner, but if you’d rather be with your team, I understand.”

There’s a hint of disappointment in his voice that bothers me. I don’t like letting him down. I can drink with the guys anytime, right? Maybe tonight I should put in some effort to getting to know my new boss. I don’t want to insult him by refusing his invitation.

“Dinner would be great,” I hear myself say.

“Yeah?” His pleased smile makes my decision feel like the right one. “That’s great. I have a car waiting downstairs.”

“Oh, I can just drive myself and meet you wherever you want.”

“No. You should ride with me.” His tone implies it’s not up for debate. “I’ll have one of my guys drive your truck to your apartment.”

I laugh, not sure what to do. “Doesn’t that seem like a lot of trouble, when I could just drive myself?”

“Evan, I want you to ride with me. Is that so awful?” His expression is almost wounded.

Guilt winds through me. “Okay, if you’re sure it’s not too much of a hassle.”

“It’s not.” His smile is borderline smug now. “Let’s go.”

The ‘car’ turns out to be a sleek black limousine, complete with privacy partition and a bar that makes the owner’s box look modest. As we glide through downtown Seabrooke, Luca pours more scotch and asks about my family, my history with hockey, my thoughts on the league. He’s still charming and attentive, but I notice he deflects any personal questions I have for him with practiced ease.

The restaurant, La Mare, is the kind of place I’ve only read about in magazine profiles of the city’s elite. The ma?tre d’ greets Luca by name and leads us to a private room with a view of the water. The lights of passing boats twinkle like stars on the dark harbor.

“I took the liberty of ordering ahead,” Luca says as servers appear with plates of what looks like art made from seafood. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“You ordered ahead?” I say, frowning. Was he that sure I’d accept his invitation?

“Yes.” He smiles. “I didn’t want you to have to wait to eat. I’m sure you’re starving after the game. You guys expended a ton of calories out on the ice.”

So he was just thinking ahead because he’s considerate. I’m flattered, but his consideration throws me a little. I’m not used to being around men who are thoughtful. Most guys I spend time with are just infatuated with the idea of me being a professional hockey player. But sometimes, I think they just want to sleep with the hockey player, not the man. Luca, however, seems completely interested in me as a person, and that makes me feel even softer toward him. Yes, he’s technically my boss, and I need to keep that in mind. He’s not my date; he’s my boss. Still, it’s nice to be truly seen and taken care of for once.

Even though I had no say in what I’m eating, the food is incredible. Delicate flavors I can’t even name, each course paired with perfect wine. Between the scotch earlier and the wine now, I’m feeling pleasantly warm and relaxed. Luca proves to be a masterful conversationalist, drawing me out while maintaining an air of mystery about himself.

“You still haven’t said why you bought the team,” I note as dessert arrives. It’s something chocolate and decadent. This entire meal probably costs more than my first car. “I’m sure I’ve asked at least five times.”

Luca studies me over his wine glass. “Perhaps I simply appreciate beauty in motion.”

The way he says it, looking directly at me, sends heat crawling up my neck. I’ve been attracted to men before, but never quite like this, never with this mix of unease and raw want. He’s my boss and I shouldn’t even be thinking of him as a man, but I can’t help it.

“The team needs stability,” I say, trying to stay professional. “The guys are counting on it. The management we had before, they were a joke. I feel bad saying that because I don’t like being negative, but they really were a joke. It wasn’t just late paychecks that had us upset. It was the sheer lack of concern for us as a professional team. This isn’t high school hockey. We need certain things to do our job, you know?”

“Absolutely. But rest assured, I take care of what’s mine, Evan.” His voice has dropped lower, and something about his phrasing makes my pulse quicken. “You’ll find I can be very generous to those who... interest me.”

I should be concerned about what that means. Should be worried about his armed guards and evasive answers and the way he keeps filling my glass. Instead, I’m watching his hands, imagining how they’d feel on my skin. Jesus, I’m not even seeing him as my boss anymore. I only see him as probably the sexist man I’ve ever met. Having his full attention is a heady experience. I feel drunk, not just on the alcohol, but also from his interest in me.

His attention is so intoxicating, I feel almost dizzy. I’m not someone who gets my hopes up, but I feel really happy and excited about what the future might hold. I think Luca will be really good for our team. We might actually win a championship again with his help. I’m giddy at the idea the Ice Hawks have a boss who’s this fucking cool. Why he chose us out of all the things he could have spent his money on, I have no idea, but I’m eternally grateful.

When we leave the restaurant, he rests his hand on the small of my back. That subtle touch goes straight to my dick. He doesn’t give any indication he’s feeling anything toward me, but in the limo his thigh presses mine. The heat of his body soaks into mine, and my dick only gets harder.

The limo pulls up in front of my apartment. I put my hand on the handle, heart racing. I know I should say goodnight. Get out of the car. Go upstairs and sleep off the wine and good feelings. Doing anything else is reckless. Stupid. Foolish.

Yet, I hear myself say, “Would you like to come up?”

Luca’s smile is self-assured as if he knew I’d ask him up. “You sure?”

I study him in the street lights. His eyes glitter with anticipation and my gaze rests on his full lips. I’ve wanted to kiss him all fucking night. I’ve never in my life been attracted to anyone I worked for. Luca is different from anyone I’ve met. He’s exciting. Mysterious. “I’m sure,” I say softly.

“Then absolutely, I’ll come up.”

We get out of the limo and I notice my pickup is parked across the street as promised. I also notice his security team has followed us to my apartment building. I gesture to the two men sitting in the black SUV. “They’re not coming up, right?”

Luca laughs. “No. They’ll stay down here.”

“Okay, good.”

The elevator ride is charged with electricity. He doesn’t touch me, but I can feel his gaze like a physical thing. The way his eyes burn into me makes my skin hot. When we reach my door, my hands shake slightly as I fumble with the keys.

“My place is probably a mess,” I say, suddenly feeling super insecure. This guy probably lives in a fucking mansion. The second he steps into my grungy little apartment, he’ll probably have second thoughts. “I didn’t plan on bringing anyone home tonight.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he rumbles, leaning his body against mine.

My gut tumbles at his possessive tone, and the hard length of his frame against my back. The way he puts his hands on my hips is fucking sexy. He doesn’t seem to like the idea of me with anyone else. That’s so weird. We hardly know each other. But weird or not, I find it a turn on. I like that he wants me all to himself.

At least for tonight.

Inside, he takes control immediately. As soon as the door closes, his hand cups my jaw, thumb brushing my lower lip. “I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you on the ice,” he murmurs, and then his mouth is on mine.

The kiss is like everything else about him, confident, intense, demanding. I melt into it, letting him back me against the wall. His body is hard and hot against mine, and when he slides a hand into my hair and tugs, I make a sound that’s a mix of pain and need.

“Beautiful,” he breathes against my neck. “Fucking perfect.”

He unzips my jeans and my heart is pounding so hard I swear he probably hears it. “I’ve never done anything like this,” I mumble.

He cocks his head. “Wait. You haven’t?”

I wince. “I mean, I’ve done this. I’ve had sex. What I mean is, I’ve never crossed a line like this with my boss.”

His laugh is husky. “Oh. You had me worried there for a minute.” He kisses me then, his mouth hot and hungry on mine.

The talking stops at that point. Once his greedy mouth is on mine, it’s game over. I want him inside me tonight. I don’t care about the consequences. I don’t care if fucking the owner of my team could get messy. I just need him. Crave him. I don’t want to be the responsible one tonight. I want to let go and live my life. I don’t really care where it takes me. I just want it. I want him.

We stumble into my bedroom, mouths joined, panting. His scent and taste are all I can think about. We undress fast, like we can’t fucking wait one second longer to touch. I no longer worry about whether or not Luca approves of my dingy apartment. He approves of my body, and that’s good enough. He can’t seem to get enough of my mouth.

We kiss and devour each other’s lips, tongues seeking and greedy. I’ve always loved sex, but this is on another level. I feel shaky and flushed as he lowers himself on top of me. We never discussed who would be the bottom, but it’s obvious it ain’t gonna be him. That’s fine with me. I want to feel him inside me more than I want oxygen.

He’s assertive during sex, almost aggressive even. I expect him to just take what he wants. Once the condom is on, I fully expect him to just use my body however he desires. But he doesn’t. Now that he’s between my thighs, he slows everything down. His kisses become deeper and more sensual. His tongue slides against mine like hot silk.

The aching moans he coaxes from me are embarrassingly needy. But I can’t help it. My entire body throbs for him. Goosebumps rise on my flesh like there’s an electrical current surging through me. I open my thighs and he pushes his hips forward. The press of his dick to my hole has me whining with excitement. I’m like some feral animal, crying out in heat.

When he takes my face between his hands and stares deep into my eyes, I feel like I’m dreaming. Staring into his eyes as he pushes inside me is so fucking intimate, I can’t breathe. He watches me as I take him deep, my body shuddering with pleasure and pain as I accept him inside me.

“Oh, fuck,” I whimper, trembling as immeasurable ecstasy washes through me. He’s so deep inside me now, I don’t know what to do. He’s still staring deep into my eyes like he’s never seen me before, and my lips part as I plead for something I don’t even know I want.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, looking almost startled.

Then he starts moving his hips.

Whatever pleasure I was feeling before multiplies tenfold. I cry out and dig my nails into his spine, holding on for dear life. I’ve never felt anything like what is happening to me. I have no control over anything. Not my thoughts. Not my sounds. Not my words. I just need him in a way I’ve never needed anyone.

His cock is hard and hot inside of me. That thick, stiff shaft moves in and out of my hole, rubbing and pleasuring me until I’m a shuddering mess. He kisses me, and I moan desperately into his mouth. His hips begin to speed up and I sense he’s losing control. Do you have any fucking idea how exciting it is to make a man like Luca lose control?

I meet his thrusts, holding his glittering black-gray gaze. I want to please him so much it hurts. I want him to think about me later. I want him to crave me like I crave him. I don’t want this moment to ever end. One of my hands clutches the sheets beneath me as he thrusts so deep I can’t catch my breath.

I can’t take it. I can’t hang on one second longer.

With a sharp cry, I arch my back and come hard. My eyes roll up in my head because my orgasm is so fucking intense. I dig my heels into the bed, body rigid as I spill my cum between our heaving bodies. His warm breath puffs against my ear as he whispers words in Italian while I climax on his cock.

If I were a computer, my hard-drive would be fried. This amount of pleasure does not compute. My orgasm seems endless, waves of deliciousness washing through me for what feels like an eternity. The entire time, he watches me with dark hooded eyes, assessing my emotions like an alien from another planet.

Then with a hoarse, “Fuck,” he’s coming too. I feel him swell deep inside of me, and even with the condom on there’s a hot flushing sensation in my very core. His mouth finds mine again and we kiss as he thrusts through his orgasm.

We’re both breathing hard when he finally stops moving inside of me. I bury my face in the curve of his neck, inhaling his woodsy scent and feeling warm and relaxed. This was a really dumb thing to do, but after what I just experienced, I’d be lying if I said I regretted it.

He doesn’t say anything for the longest time. Then he carefully pulls out of me and leaves the bed. He goes into my bathroom, and I sit up and wipe my stomach clean. I have no idea if he regrets what we just did. I couldn’t tell from his blank expression just now when he got off the bed. But sometimes people are weird after sex, and this situation is definitely complicated.

When he comes out of the bathroom, I’m not sure if he’s going to get dressed and leave. I half expect he’ll bolt, so I’m truly surprised when he gets back in bed with me. He sits against the headboard, watching me.

“You okay?” I ask softly. “I… I know this was probably a really dumb idea.” I want to touch him, but I hesitate because his expression is so hard to read.

“Yeah, it was.” His eyes flicker. “It was amazing but… dumb.”

Is he worried I’ll brag about this to the rest of the team or something? I sigh and touch his leg. “It’s okay, Luca. I’m not gonna tell anyone. I wouldn’t do anything that might embarrass you, I promise.”

“You’re worried about me?” He gives a curt laugh.

“You seem tense. I want you to know this isn’t something I’m gonna talk about with anyone.”

“How do you know I won’t talk about it with anyone?” He narrows his eyes.

Confused by his demeanor, I grimace. “I guess I assume we both want to keep this quiet. It does neither of us any good for it to get out, right?”

“No, it doesn’t.” He runs his hand over the blue comforter, a line between his dark brows.

“Well, you can trust me, okay?” I smile at him, hoping to reassure him. He was open and charming earlier, but now he seems really uptight and distant. I want that other Luca back. “I’m serious, you can trust me. I’ll be discreet.”

His jaw tenses and something similar to guilt flutters through his dark eyes.

I frown, wondering why he’d be guilty. We’re both adults. We both wanted to fuck. Maybe he feels like because of our mismatched power dynamic, I’ll think he took advantage of me? “I don’t regret it, Luca,” I say quietly.

He visibly winces. “You will.”

I give a confused laugh. “Why?”

His gaze is enigmatic as he studies me. Slowly the tension leaves his handsome features and his eyes soften slightly. He reaches for me and I move to him. He pulls me against him, burying his face in my hair.

“You have nothing to worry about,” I say, kissing the firm, warm skin of his shoulder. “This will be our little secret.”

“Yeah? You good at keeping secrets, Evan?” His hand smooths down my back, one finger slipping between my ass cheeks.

I feel his dick harden against my thigh, and my breathing picks up. Excitement spirals through me as it becomes clear he wants more of me. I’m down for that. I’m fucking a hundred percent down for that.

Whether this night together is smart or not, I’m going to take as much as Luca is willing to give me. Once this night ends, I might never get another taste of him, and I’m not even close to satiated.

But that’s okay because something tells me Luca ain’t leaving anytime soon.