Page 7

SIX

DANIEL

In a pair of tight black pants that hug her beautiful curves, and with my fucking name and number on her back, Hannah is my literal dream girl. For three years I’ve watched her. She comes to the games, then joins us at the bar afterward, and every time, she wears my damn number. I can’t help that it’s gone to my head, no matter how often she’s batted away my flirtation like I’m a naughty boy who needs to be punished.

Punish me, Hannah. I can take it.

I’d enjoy it, actually.

God, I’d enjoy anything she’d do to me.

What I don’t love is watching her stare at Noah. And I really fucking hate how he just kissed her goodbye, even if it was just on the forehead.

But when he calls out to her as he gets on the bus, pointing out that I’m waiting, my distaste for him wanes. Maybe he’s not so bad after all. I don’t know what kind of relationship the two of them have, but if he’s sending her my way, I’ll take a guess and say they’re just friends.

At least that’s my hope.

When she turns around and surprise lights up in those pretty blue eyes of hers, my concerns evaporate. That’s all the confirmation I need. I’m at least in the fucking game.

Tonight I’m not going to think about how I no longer play on the first line with my two best friends. The second line had a good game too. Cam and I set up Keegan for a goal, and the team pulled off a win. That’s enough for me. As far as hockey goes, at least.

For now, I’ll keep my focus fixed on the woman in front of me. With my hands still in the pockets of my black suit pants, I push off the door and slowly walk toward Hannah.

She matches me step for step, the two of us eating up the distance.

“What are you doing up so late, Baby Hall?” she calls as she gets closer, a tease of a fucking smile on her face.

My stomach twists in anticipation. “Thought maybe I’d ask the prettiest girl at the game to come to dinner with me.”

She arches a surprised brow. “Aren’t our friends waiting for us back at the house?”

“I’m sure they can keep themselves entertained.”

Clearly not nearly as affected by me as I am by her, she lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug. “What do you have planned?”

“You mentioned steak and an orgasm. I can handle one of them right now. The other one might need to wait until we get to the restaurant.”

Head tossed back, she laughs loudly.

God, the way that sound fills the night air has my balls tightening. She’s so fucking pretty.

“You heard that, huh?”

I dip my chin and let my lips tick up on one side. “Was standing right behind you.”

Rather than turn pink or stutter out an embarrassed response, she breaks into a wide smile. “I’ll let you get the steak. I can handle the orgasm.”

My cock jumps as that last word rolls off her tongue with ease. That’s one of the things I like most about her. Hannah doesn’t bullshit. She’s not coy. She doesn’t hide behind a facade, not for anyone, least of all a man. She’s unabashedly herself, just like me.

She knows her worth and she demands it. It’s fucking sexy as hell.

I’ve never met someone quite like her, and I’m pretty sure I never will.

At thirty-three, so many women still haven’t figured out who they are, but Hannah sure as fuck has. She owns every facet of herself, and with that, she owns all my attention. If she’s in the room, no one else exists.

As she takes another step closer, her scent—something sweet and musky, like a spiced French vanilla—swirls around us. And when she presses her palm to my chest, the heat of it instantly warms me. With a pounding heart, I stare down at those soft fingers pressed against my body. I don’t think she’s ever been this close. And she’s certainly never touched me. I’m pretty sure her touch would be branded on my skin if she had. It’s official: this shirt is retiring after tonight. I’ll never wash it again.

I drag my attention up her arm and across her chest to where the Bolts logo sits, then higher to her glossy lips.

Clearly knowing she’s in complete control, she drags her tongue slowly across her bottom one. “I’m not sure I’m dressed for anywhere fancy.”

It takes everything in me to keep my hands in my pockets. If I remove them, I’ll have her pressed against the wall between one breath and the next, with my fingers buried in her hair and my mouth on hers, taking everything I’ve ever wanted.

But there’s time for that.

First, we’re going to have a meal.

I’m going to show her I’m more than a pretty face and a fancy dick.

Affecting the cockiest smirk, I give her a slow, thorough once-over. “You’re wearing my name on your back, dream girl. It doesn’t get more perfect than that.”

She laughs that raspy laugh again. “Okay, Baby Hall. You can buy me a steak.”

“Oh, that’s not dirty enough,” I tell the waiter as he arrives with our cocktails.

Hannah ordered a dirty martini, extra dirty, like she always does, but it’s still almost clear.

She shakes her head. “It’s fine.”

“You hate it like that.”

Eyes flicking from me to the drink, she lets her shoulders sink and nods. “Yeah, I’m going to need it darker than that.”

“Of course.” The man sets my drink on the table before disappearing with her too-clear martini.

“You paying attention to how I take my drink, Baby Hall?” Her voice is calm, completely belying the uncertainty swimming in her gaze.

“You order the same thing every time we’re out. I’d have to be an idiot to not know how you take your drinks.”

One brow arched, she forces her shoulders back again. “Or just not focused on me.”

I don’t even address that comment. We both know I’m always focused on her.

She coughs out a laugh. “Then you know I normally send it back when it’s not right.”

“You do. When you’re with the girls. I wasn’t sure if you’d do the same thing when on a date.”

Lips parting, she once again lets out a low, sexy, sarcastic laugh. The one that emanates from deep in her throat. “This isn’t a date.”

I pick up my lowball glass of whiskey and take a sip, ignoring that comment.

The waiter returns with her drink. This time, the liquid is perfectly cloudy, with three olives pierced by a martini pick balanced across the rim of the glass.

Only after Hannah takes a sip and gives him an approving nod does he disappear.

I set my drink on the table and lean back in my chair so the front legs are an inch off the ground. “So when does the next book come out?”

Head tilted, she zeroes in on me, as if she’s trying to read between the lines of my question. After a moment, though, she shakes her head and bites her lip. “Probably not until the winter. I don’t get to write much during the season.”

“Are you still working on the stalker series?”

Those lips lift in a smile. “First Noah, now you? Coach making you boys read my books or something?”

My gut drops. So do the legs of my chair. Noah reads her books? Why?

And how the hell does he fit into her life? Yeah, I could ask, but I know her well enough to know she’d respond with a snarky quip. Something about how she collects hockey players or something. I don’t want to be lumped in with other guys. Especially my teammates. Especially Noah. So I leave it alone.

“Or something,” I reply. “Do you miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“Writing. Do you miss it during the season?”

She sighs, her eyes drifting up and to the side as if this is the first time she’s really considered it. “I don’t necessarily stop writing. I’m always working on something, but it’s hard to give the stories in my mind the attention they need while I’m busy dealing with one PR disaster after another. My brain can only do so much spinning, and unfortunately, I have to save my creativity for dressing up the bullshit Jasper pulls pretty regularly.”

I cough out a laugh. “The way you spun that nun thing.”

She lights up, blue eyes flashing with amusement. “It was good, right?”

“Hell yeah. I knew the truth, and even I almost fell for it. That he meant to send the picture to the team doctor because he pulled his groin during practice, and, unfortunately, it went to his ex-girlfriend who became a nun after they broke up? Genius.”

Hannah breaks into a wide smile that shows all her straight, white teeth. “I wrote fan fic about it that night.”

Elbows on the table, I angle forward. “Shut up. I need to read it.”

She coughs out a laugh. “Guess we’ll see how the date goes.”

This time I’m the one grinning, and damn, does it make my cheeks hurt.

Martini pick between her fingers, she stirs the murky liquid in her glass. “Made any plans for this summer?”

“You looking for a second date, dream girl?”

With an exasperated roll of her eyes, she shakes her head.

I take a small sip of my whiskey and set the glass down again. “No, I don’t think about what happens after the season. I typically keep my focus on the next game.”

“So you want to talk hockey? How are you feeling about the season?”

I lean in, sliding my glass a little closer to the center of the table. “Nah, I don’t want to waste time going over talking points we could hear in the media room.”

She rests her cheek in her cupped palm, eyes glittering in the low lights. “So what do you want to talk about?”

Angling even closer, I dip my head and keep my voice low. “I want to hear more about this orgasm you’re looking forward to tonight.”

Another eye roll and a bite of her lip have my cock jumping. “What do you think your sister would say if she heard you talking like that?”

“She’s already given me the all-clear so long as I don’t hurt you.”

Hannah lifts her drink to her lips and takes a long sip of her drink, her intense gaze never leaving my face. “You can’t hurt me, Baby Hall. I’m an ice queen.”

I’m not so sure about that. I’ve watched this woman for years. She may come across as tough, impenetrable, but I’ve witnessed enough of the softness she shows to her girlfriends to know it’s a front. She’s hiding behind a thick layer of armor.

Tonight, though, I won’t push too far. Tonight, I’ll let her control the narrative. I’ll even give her the rope to lead me with.

“Fine, dream girl. Then I just might need to thaw you out a bit.”

Hannah smiles again, the expression sending a bolt of satisfaction through me and strengthening my resolve. “Let’s see how dinner goes. Maybe I’ll let you warm me up in the hot tub.”

“Oh, looks like they put you in the den,” Hannah says far too loudly as we come banging into the rental house hours later. The lights are all off, and the house is silent, so it’s safe to say that no one waited up. Camden sent me a pissed-off text when he realized I’d left him alone with all the couples, but there was no way I was inviting him out with Hannah and me.

Sure enough, my duffel is sitting on the futon. “I’m not worried about where I’m sleeping, dream girl.”

She rolls those pretty blue eyes at me again. “Thanks for dinner,” she says, her tone softer now as she starts to head for the stairs.

Fuck. There’s no way I’ll let the night end yet. Even if I don’t get to touch this woman, this has been the best night I’ve had in as long as I remember—laughing, teasing and talking, taking shots, flirting—and I’m not ready for it to end.

I reach for her hand before she can get past me and tug her closer. She doesn’t wobble even a little. Thank fuck. If she were drunk, I wouldn’t even attempt to put a hand on her. “Hot tub?”

She assesses me, her eyes bouncing between mine and my lips, and then she bites her own. “Okay, give me a few. I’ll meet you in there.”

Once I’ve located my swim trunks and toiletries, I head into the bathroom. When I come out again, the house is still quiet. The moon is bright tonight, illuminating the interior well enough that I don’t need to turn on lights to find my way to the French doors that lead to the back deck.

From here, the view of the craggy mountain landscape is incredible. Outside, I’m greeted by a peaceful quiet, the only sound the low hum of the covered hot tub. A check of the temperature reveals it’s already a warm 105. Perfect. Nothing feels quite as good as a soak in a hot tub after a long practice or a tough game. Except sinking inside a beautiful woman, but that’s not on the agenda tonight.

All I want is a little more time with Hannah.

I’m just easing into the bubbling water when my girl appears, an oversized robe hiding her petite curves.

“That looks ridiculously amazing,” she says as she undoes the knot at her waist.

Arms spread, I watch her every move, knowing that’s exactly what she wants.

Hannah is a woman meant to be stared at. A work of art, the lines of which don’t follow any of the rules. Like a Monet, the longer a person stares, the more depth they find.

As the robe slips from her shoulders, my heart stumbles in my chest. I suck in a breath. “That is not a swimsuit.”

She looks down at it, a look of faux innocent shock on her face. “It’s not?”

I roll my lips and bite down hard. “No, dream girl, it’s not.”

She’s testing my patience. The skimpy slip of fabric barely covers her pussy and the little triangles do nothing to hide the pebbled nipples beneath them.

When she steps up onto the stairs and leans forward to slip into the hot tub, tipping her ass in my face, I have to fight the urge to grab my own cock to ease the ache.

“I think it’s perfectly respectable,” she says coyly as she slides a thumb beneath the string across her hip and lets it go with a loud smack against her skin.

I expect her to sink into the water across from me. Figure she’ll taunt me a bit more, maybe even strip beneath the bubbles and make me cry when she forces me to close my eyes as she gets out.

But Hannah is the definition of unexpected. I should have known better. As soon as she enters the water, she slips beneath the surface, then comes back up like a fucking literal dream, dark hair slicked back, water dripping down her gorgeous face, her lips pressed into the perfect pout. And then she climbs onto my lap and rolls that tiny bikini-covered pussy over my aching cock.

“I was promised an orgasm.”

I dig my fingers into the edge of the hot tub, holding on for dear life. If I let go, I’ll grab her hips and roll her over me until she comes.

But it’s not time.

Heart thundering, I focus on stringing a coherent sentence together. “And you want me to give it to you?”

Lip caught between her teeth, she drags her gaze down my body and then back up again. “Not sure yet. I don’t give just anyone a shot at it.”

I chuckle. “I see. So you want to make sure I know what I’m doing first?”

Hannah’s lips tip up in a slow, delicious smile. “Now you get what I’m saying.”

I nod. “Well, oral is a lost art, so yeah, I get it.”

Brows lowering, she rears back a little. “What did you say?”

I shake my head. Now is not the time to talk about Calliope. I can’t imagine the woman on my lap wants to hear about how another woman taught me how to eat pussy so well that her eyes will roll to the back of her head.

The tutorial came from an article, not from a hands-on experience, but still. Not where we’re going with this.

“It’s all about the tongue,” I tell her. “And the right amount of suction.”

Hannah hums, her hands drifting up and down my biceps in a way that sends tingles up my spine. “And are you good with your tongue?”

“Why don’t you hop up on the side of the tub and spread those thighs and I’ll show you?”

She throws back her head, and the sexiest laugh I’ve ever heard escapes her. The raspy quality makes my dick jump. “Let’s try it with a peach, Baby Hall. Show me your technique, and we’ll see if you’ve got what it takes to move on to the real thing.”

Blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight, she tips to one side and picks up a peach she must have brought out with her and set in a built-in cupholder on the edge of the tub. “If you’re scared, then I can go first.”

Without taking her eyes off me, she brings the fruit to her mouth. She sticks out her tongue and slowly licks at the soft flesh, moaning in a way that sends me dangerously close to coming. It’s not a surprise, really, considering that the big guy hasn’t gotten any attention since I got pierced six weeks ago.

I haven’t gone this long without touching my own dick since I first discovered that it felt good.

Yeah, I like sex. And jacking off. And coming.

But I love eating a woman’s pussy even more than all of those things. I could do it for hours.

So if Hannah is giving me a shot at tasting the forbidden fruit, you best believe I’m taking it.

She bites into the peach, sweet juices trickling down her chin. Then, eyes closed, she twirls her tongue and sucks, making the hottest fucking slurping noise I’ve ever heard.

My chest tightens, along with my balls. God, what I’d do to hear that as she sucked me dry.

“Okay, you’ve made your point.” I swipe the fruit from her, desperate to stop the torture. There’s no fucking way she’s going to let me eat her out tonight. She’s just teasing me, so this game needs to end right now.

Hannah licks her lips and hums, as if she’s savoring the taste.

I can’t help it. I lean closer, wishing I could lick the taste from her lips.

“You giving up already?” she taunts, rolling her hips over me again.

Abs tightening, I will my hips not to thrust up into her. “Careful, dream girl. You keep looking at me like that, and I can’t be held responsible for what happens next.”

Her lips part, and though it’s dark and the water is hot, I swear her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink. If she were the kind of person who could be flustered, I’d swear she’s a little thrown off. But I know better than that.

“I think you’re all talk, Playboy.”

I grin. Playboy. Damn right. I much prefer the nickname I’ve been given on the ice to Baby Hall. While I may live up to the name off the ice too, with Hannah, I can’t help but want more than one night.

That’s another reason I should stop this before it goes any farther. She’ll never give that to me. Hannah is a badass and the most aloof woman I’ve ever met. I’ve never seen her go on a date or heard her talk to the girls about one, let alone introduce a guy to her friends. She’s like me. When she finds someone she wants to spend her night with, she disappears quietly. Usually after a game when we’re out celebrating or drowning our sorrows.

But the guy never makes it to Sunday dinners at War’s, and she sure as fuck hasn’t brought anyone to the Bolts games she attends religiously.

Yet I can’t help but be caught in her snare. Despite her teasing, I could make this woman come in less than two minutes. Calliope’s technique is foolproof, though I’ve yet to try it. It’s from a more recent article, and since my dick has been out of commission, I haven’t had a chance to put the knowledge to the test.

Calliope’s actually the reason I chose this specific piercing. She claims it’s the best for female enjoyment. In the months I’ve been following her, I’ve learned all kinds of shit. Like how prolonged non-ejaculatory orgasms are really a thing. It sounds fucking amazing. Again, I’ve yet to try it, since I’ve been unable to touch my dick for weeks. But as soon as I’m healed, I’ll be following her instructions to the T so that I, too, can have a ten-minute orgasm.

Maybe if I give Hannah a ten-minute orgasm using my tongue, she’ll let me test out my new techniques in a few weeks. A guy can dream, right?

“Give me that fucking fruit.” I grab it and take a bite, sinking into the flesh around the smaller piece she’s already taken from it. “Need a bigger playing field. I really like to get into my meal.”

The second my tongue laps up the juices of the fruit, Hannah moans and rubs her pussy over my dick.

It takes more willpower than I thought I had to keep from bucking my hips in response. Instead, I close my eyes and focus on the peach. It’s sweet and soft, but I know she’ll taste better. I suck and lick and circle my tongue, making sure she knows precisely what I’ll do to her.

Panting, she yanks the fruit from my hand and tosses it into the darkness. “Okay, audition’s over. You’ve got the job.”

She grips my shoulders and shifts, like she’s ready to dismount.

Only then do I allow myself to put my hands on her. Clutching her hips, I pull her back to me. “Where you going?”

“I’m going to grab towels so we can get to the orgasm part.” She says it like it’s obvious. Like she can’t imagine I’d want anything more than that.

And hell yeah, I want to taste her orgasm on my lips. But that’s not all I want. And if I don’t slow us down, I’ll never get a shot at what I’ve been dreaming of.

Fingers pressed into the soft flesh of her hips, I hold her in place. “Slow down, dream girl. We’ll get there, but there’s no way I’m rushing this.”

She frowns. “Rushing what?”

I lick my lips, my focus locked on hers. “Our first kiss.”

A crease forms between her eyebrows. “You act like this means something, Playboy, when we both know that nights like this are a dime a dozen for you.” As she says it, she straddles my hips and rolls her sweet body against mine. I’d say it was a taunt, only the way she clings to my arms, then rubs her hands down my pecs makes me think she can’t help but touch me. It’s been like that all night. For both of us. There’s this pull between us. This magnetism that I’ve only experienced with her and have never been able to ignore. I’m certainly not going to start now.

“And what if it does mean something?”

“It doesn’t.” She lifts her chin, eyes narrowed.

“What if you’re wrong? What if we look back on tonight and realize it was the first of many nights? What if?—”

“ Daniel …” Her tone is dripping with confusion, but it hits me then that I’m not sure she’s ever actually used my name. Fuck, do I like it.

Arms tight around her waist, I hug her to me, relishing the electricity coursing from her body to mine and back again. “I’ve never had a night like this before because I’ve never had my actual dream girl straddling me. So give me a sec to enjoy this. And fuck, Hannah, just let me kiss you.”