Page 37

THIRTY-SIX

Damon

I frown as I walk to my car, not quite comprehending what I’m seeing.

Joey’s car in the lot.

She’s supposed to be with Kylie, drinking wine, watching crap TV, and then calling me so I can pick her up and we can try out drunk sex.

Instead…

I stride over to the spot, peer in through the window and see the picture one of her young fans drew for her tucked behind the gearshift, and know it’s her car.

“What the hell?” I mutter.

I pull out my phone, see that Kylie’s called and left me a message, but just pocket it again and head for the rink.

Maybe Joey got caught up with something and lost track of time.

I’ll pop in and make sure that she’s all good, drive her over to Kylie’s if they still want to meet up.

Then we don’t have to worry about leaving her car at the apartment complex.

Grinning, I grab my badge, scan into the building, and make my way through the corridors until I get to Joey’s office. The light is on, but it’s empty, her purse on the desk, her laptop bag beside it.

“Hmm,” I mutter turning for the kitchen.

Maybe she went to grab something to eat.

But the kitchen proves to be empty as well.

And the locker room, the conference rooms, the training suite and cool and hot plunge rooms. No one is here except for housekeeping and maintenance staff.

Then I hear a noise.

It’s familiar and not and it drives me out through the doors that lead to the rink.

I inhale sharply when I see her, skates on, stick in hand.

I climb up to the bench, lean against the boards, and watch her. She doesn’t have full mobility in the knee that ended her college career, but she’s graceful and powerful, using compact strides and stick-handling that isn’t showy. Still, it’s effective as she skates through the neutral zone, dances along the blue line then streaks in, fires a shot on goal.

It hits the top corner and then she moves in and swoops up the rebound.

But she’s doing it without really thinking, her movements automatic, almost robotic.

Another carry of the puck, another shot, this one misses wide and she scoops it up again, carries it to the face-off dot, weaving in and out, back and forth.

This time she hits that corner again, but she does it with a wince, limping slightly as she retrieves the puck then starts up again.

But this time, she stops, her gaze coming up, arrowing toward…

Me.

Her expression is unreadable for a long moment and I’m about to call out, to apologize for startling her, but then she smiles and skates my way.

“Knee bothering you?” I ask as she comes close.

One slender shoulder lifts and drops. “No more than normal.”

“You forget about Kylie?”

“No,” she says. “We hung out for a bit, but I remembered I left my computer, so I popped over to get it after the first episode.” She shrugs again, mouth curving. “Then I guess…I just had the itch to get out here and mess around.”

“Well, for all your messing around, that shot of yours looks pretty damned good, Red.”

She grins. “The knee holds up for that one.” She winces. “Though not for much longer.” A jerk of her chin. “I should get these skates off.”

“You want a ride back to Kylie’s?” I offer. “I can pick you up when you’re done.”

“We’re done for the night.” She climbs over the boards, starts for the hall and I follow her. “I’m probably just going to go home.”

My brows drag together. “You’re going to go home? What happened to coming to my place?”

She stills. “Oh, I just thought since you were flying out tomorrow and it’s late?—”

“I want you there.” A beat. “With me. For however long I can have you.”

Her eyes search mine for long enough that my nape begins to prickle, but then she smiles. “Even if it means missing sleep?”

“Oh”—I slip an arm around her middle—“it will definitely mean missing sleep.” I press my lips to her temple. “But it will also definitely be worth it.”

She chuckles. “Can’t say you’re wrong.” Then she’s shifting out of my hold, striding to her office. It only takes a couple of minutes to get her skates off, but she’s quiet during that time.

“You okay, Red?” I ask as she puts the guards on.

“Hmm?” she asks, shoving the skates into a duffle bag and setting it on the edge of her desk.

“Baby”—I catch her hand—“are you okay?”

“What?” She shakes herself. “I’m fine.”

“You’re a million miles away.” I tuck her hair behind her ear. “You’ve barely looked at me since you came off the ice.”

“I’m sorry.” She touches my jaw, eyes filled with that apology before she grimaces. “I’m distracted. My mind is going a hundred miles an hour getting ready for the road trip.” A sigh. “Especially with Knox’s ankle bothering him.” Her fingers wrap around mine before she smiles. “But I’m glad you’re here so I can stop going around and around about it.”

“Do you want to talk about lines for tomorrow?”

“No.” She says it a little too quickly, but before I can call her on it, she snags her bag and comes close again. “I’d rather just go home and have you distract me.” Her mouth curves. “Think you can handle that, hot shot?”

My dick twitches. “I think I can be convinced to handle it.”

“Good,” she whispers.

I snag her bag. “Need anything else?”

“No.”

I jerk my chin to the hall. “Then let’s get on with the distracting.”

We make our way through the corridor then out into the night air, but as we move to my car, she peels off to hers. “I’ll meet you at your place?”

“Do you want me to drive—?” My phone buzzes, cutting me off.

“I’ll follow you over.” She presses her lips to mine. “Answer your phone.” Her mouth quirks. “Because I know that’s your favorite thing.”

“Baby—”

“Go on.” She drops back to her heels, moves to her car and I hear the locks disengage.

I pull my phone out, see that Kylie has texted.

KYLIE: Are you and Joey okay?

DAMON: We’re fine. We met up at the rink. Why?

I see the “…” appear and then disappear a few times and my stomach sinks.

“All good?” Joey asks, poised in her open driver’s side door.

My phone buzzes again, but I ignore it for a moment. “All good.”

She grins. “Good.”

I look down at my phone screen again.

KYLIE: Good. I wanted to make sure you two connected.

DAMON: We did and now we’re heading back to the house. Need anything?

KYLIE: I’m all set.

“Am I racing you to your place?” Joey calls.

I glance up to see her smiling, but I’m distracted from the fact that it’s not completely normal when my cell vibrates again.

KYLIE: I love you, big bro. Don’t ever forget that.

My eyes narrow and I start to type out a reply.

But then I hear Joey’s car door slam, her engine start up, and I pocket my phone.

I’ll text my sister back later.

For now, I have a race to win.

* * *

“Oh, God!” she moans, head dropping back, water splashing over the edges of the tub.

That’ll be a fucking mess to clean up later, but I don’t give a damn.

Not with that gorgeous cunt of hers squeezing me tight, not with her grinding against me, hard and fast and driving me up to the edge?—

Then over.

I grunt, fingers tightening on her hips, keeping her moving on my dick as she begins to slow, her orgasm leaving her limp as mine crests.

Fucking perfect.

Fucking best ever.

“ Fuck ,” I groan, head falling back against the tile.

She collapses against my chest, breathing heavy, arms wrapped around me.

We lay there for long enough that I realize the water’s getting cold. I hit the lever with my foot, start draining the tub.

“Bedtime, Red.”

Her breathing stays even and she doesn’t move.

I gently brush back her hair. “Time to get out, baby.”

She moans softly and I grin, lifting her and carefully stepping out of the tub. She’s practically limp as I towel her off, eyes closed, her replies mumbled and sleepy.

I tug a tee over her head then tuck her under the covers. “Sleep now, baby.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” she slurs.

I go and take care of the water that sloshed on the tile, dump the dirty towels into the hamper then crawl into bed next to her and let sleep take me under.

It’s not until later that I realize her sweetheart sounded off.

Sounded wrong.

Just like her smile at the rink.

And not because she was tired.

But because something was wrong.

Seriously fucking wrong.