Page 2 of Slashed By You (Chicago Steel #5)

Chapter 2

Josh

T hey went and hired a new coach. Oh joy! Management is ecstatic. Me? Not so much. Been there, done that in Arizona. Rumor has it he’s as surly and bad-tempered as his predecessor, Jim Doogan. Fucking fantastic. When I came to the Steel two years ago, I had high expectations regarding the coaching and level of play. It didn’t take long to figure out the coaching was total shit. Coach Doogan, was both old and grumpy. In serious need of retirement. The only thing I learned from him in the past two years was that he yells more swear words than plays. If it’s true about our new coach, I’m not sure how much more I can take. This next season is going to be tough.

Before he arrives, management holds a team meeting to inform us of all they expect from us. We’re told that Tristan Murphy, our barely thirty-year-old coach, has spent the past five years as the head coach for an AHL team in Aurora, Illinois. His team, the Aurora Anacondas, is quite impressive, winning the Calder Cup the previous two years. Maybe this won’t be as bad as I think?

Definitely confident with their hiring decision, management touts that Tristan had also played in the NHL for the Boston Storm until suffering a career-ending injury. He’d been drafted straight from high school, and during his five years in the NHL, he made impressive marks in the hockey world.

W eeks later, when Coach Tristan’s finally introduced to the team, I’m not the only player skeptical of him. Throughout the league, you’ll hear rumors about coaches, players, and the drama that surrounds them. And everything I’ve heard makes me question whether he’s what our team needs. The thing I fear the most is his attitude. Gossip says that even on his best days, Coach Tristan is cranky. And after Coach Doogan, I’m not sure how much more I can take. I want a coach who is forward-thinking and knows how to develop the strengths of each player and can use that knowledge to benefit the team.

After he arrives, the first thing I learn is that he isn’t to be doubted. He wastes no time shaking up the organization from the coaching and support staff to the players. Granted, he doesn’t have the authority to get rid of players or staff, but he came into the program intending to do everything necessary to make us the team to beat. From restructuring plays to focusing on the basics, as a team, we work harder than ever before.

With Grady gone, it’s just like I assumed it would be; we are lacking leadership. I step up and try to fill the position by showing up early to practices, meetings, and community events. I work hard and maintain a can-do attitude. My dedication and consistent encouragement don’t go unnoticed, and I’m named the captain at the beginning of the season. The title feels incredible, and I’m determined to be the best one yet. Grady taught me a lot, but with Coach Tristan in charge, I plan for our team to become an unstoppable force. Because we spend a lot of time together, I learn Tristan can still be an asshole. But the more we work together, the more I recognize his mood swings. And I’ve learned when it’s best to stay clear.

G oing back to Arizona for the holidays was a mistake and is something I will avoid in the future. I can’t even refer to it as home anymore. Home is somewhere warm and inviting, somewhere you feel safe and comforted. Arizona is where my father lives, steeped in endless anger and feelings of betrayal. Two years have come and gone since my grandfather’s will changed everything, and my father still can’t let it go. Because of his hostility, I see no reason to stay. Which is precisely how I end up agreeing to attend an extravagant New Year’s affair.

On New Year’s Eve at ten on the dot, Jac, my teammate, calls to let me know the chauffeured car we secured for the evening is parked in my driveway. I live outside the city in a quiet residential neighborhood in Glen Ellyn. Walking through my Scandinavian-inspired farmhouse, I’m ready for a night out. Pocketing my keys and phone, I slip out the Chicago Steel-blue front door and head out for an evening I know I won’t forget.

“Hey, Jac,” I call out while climbing into the car.

He meets me with a smirk. “Hey, man.”

P hillip, our driver for the evening, looks sharp in his three-piece suit as he whisks us through the Chicago suburbs, grabbing teammates for our night on the town.

“Move over!” Troy growls as he climbs into the car, pushing Mikey into the middle seat.

“Rick, is that your leg touching mine?” Mikey seethes.

“Yes, it is. The boys need room to breathe. Stop fucking whining!” Rick barks back.

“Dudes, you’re going to have to make it work. We’ll be there in a little while. Right, Phillip?” I ask from the comfort of my large heated passenger seat. I grin at my good fortune.

“On the way back, I call—” Rick starts before all the rest of the guys chime in with “shotgun.” I just laugh. Tonight, my plans include finding a lady to hook up with. If I’m lucky, I won’t be needing a ride home from Phillip. Calling shotgun is the least of my concerns. These assholes can argue all they want.

After stuffing the SUV like a Thanksgiving turkey with six whiny, bulky, hockey players, we’re ready for an evening out. When Phillip pulls up to an unfamiliar building, I look over at him, questioning, “Where are we?”

“It’s a members-only club called Onyx, sir,”Phillip answers.

“Members only,” shouts Mikey as he pumps his fist. “I know what that means.” Turning around, I see he’s wearing an enormous grin.

“Yeah, what?” I ask.

Rick elbows Mikey. “It isn’t a sex club like you’re hoping, Mikey.”

Mikey’s eyes go wide. “It isn’t?”

Rick laughs and shakes his head. “No, man, it’s just uber-exclusive and there’s normally a membership fee.”

“Then how’d we score an invitation?” Parker questions from the third row. He looks to Jac, who’s remained mum so far.

Jac smiles while we all stare at him, waiting for an answer. “Lincoln Luciano invited us. He and a few of his buddies rented out the entire VIP section of the club tonight to throw an epic New Year’s party.”

Mikey clears his throat. “Luciano, like the crime family?”

Jac lifts his hand in the air, stopping us all from talking. “I’m not sure he’s related to them. All I know is he’s a very successful businessman who splits his time between Chicago, New York, and Miami. He’s filthy rich and likes to party. Oh, and he loves hockey, especially the Steel,” Jac answers confidently, not showing any concern about the suspected mafia connection of our party host.

Is this a good idea?

We exit the vehicle and follow Jac toward an unmarked door. Has he been here before?

Jac knocks on the door, and it slowly opens. An enormous bodyguard steps out.

“Dude,” Rick mutters under his breath.

“Hello, big guy.” Mikey snickers. I elbow him in the ribs in case Mr. Big, or that’s what I’ve decided to call him, doesn’t find him funny. I’m intimidated by his stature, and that’s saying something because I’m far from short. None of our group is.

“Password,” the behemoth says.

Jac looks around and whispers, “Party time, excellent.” Really? He must be correct because Mr. Big smirks and allows us entry. Looking at the building as we enter it, I notice a small black and silver placard. If I hadn’t been looking, I would have certainly missed it.

Stepping inside the nondescript club, complete darkness surrounds us.

“Did I go blind? Mom warned that would happen one day,” Mikey shouts.

“What are you talking about, Mikey?” Jac grunts from the front of the group.

“My mom said if I jerked off too much, I’d make myself blind,” he admits.

I roll my eyes and grumble, “What backwoods bullshit teaching is that? No, you can’t go blind from jerking off too much. Let me guess, you spanked it before we picked you up.”

Mikey huffs and then answers, “Yeah, I did. Didn’t you? I didn’t want to blow my load if some hot chick was grinding up on me.”

“He has a point,” Jac counters. I can imagine we’re all nodding our heads, but because of the darkness, I can’t see shit. Minutes in and my eyes still haven’t adjusted.

Rick snorts, then says, “Your vision is fine. The club blacked out everything. None of us can see.”

I hear a deep breath next to me and I assume it’s Mikey, feeling relieved.

Navigating is problematic. No one wants to be the asshole running into another teammate or the wall. A loud thumping reverberates around us and I can tell we’re getting closer. Passing through another doorway, the club comes into focus. Once my eyes finally adjust to the mood lighting, I see we’re in a turn-of-the-century factory building. Looking up, I notice all the exposed pipework. It, too, is painted black.

Jac continues leading us deeper into the club. He’s definitely been here before. We arrive at a hostess stand at the bottom of a grand staircase. The perky young blond working asks who we are. “The Steel men,” Jac answers with a wink. She blushes and flutters her eyelashes before leading us to the VIP section. Jac walks in with a swagger, and instantly, women drape themselves all over him. The shit-eating grin spread across his face tells us all the plans he has for the rest of the evening. The fucker is planning to get lucky. Several times. Well, happy New Year to him. He’s ringing it in right.

“Guys. You’re here,” a husky man in a tailored pinstripe suit shouts, his words slightly slurring. I’ve never seen him before, but he seems to recognize us. This must be Lincoln. How long has he been here partying?

Rick nudges me. “Hey, Cap. Does he sound all right to you?” Oh good. It isn’t just me.

Unsure, I shrug my shoulders, replying, “I don’t know.”

With no shame, Mikey walks up to the man I’m still assuming is Lincoln. He looks him dead in the eye, lowers his voice, and asks, “You, Lincoln?” The man grunts, giving confirmation. “Okay. Are you all right, man?”

Lincoln swallows hard, then blinks his eyes, and nods. “Yeah, man. Just doing some pre-partying until you all arrived.” He pulls the girls on either side of him closer, adding, “With these hotties.” Lincoln then looks around and commands, “Don’t let me party alone. Everyone grab a drink and a couple of women; it’s time to get the fun started.” Mikey turns back toward Rick and me and shrugs. We move to the bar and I order a beer.

I turn away from the bar and scan the club. I don’t have a plan for tonight, and truthfully, I don’t really need one. Being a well-built professional hockey player has its advantages. The women come to me and all I have to do is pick the one I want. Fortunately for us, they packed this club with women who would kill for a piece of us. That’s not arrogance, just facts. I’m going to score tonight.

Glancing around the VIP room, I notice a black couch that looks more artistic than comfortable. As I walk over to it, I let my eyes wander over all the ladies, and a petite blonde catches my attention. It’s been a while since I’ve had any release that hasn’t involved my left hand. I will the mystery beauty to look at me. It doesn’t take long until her eyes lock with mine, and I give her a nod. When she smiles, my heart picks up its pace. Patting the couch next to me, I’m asking her to join me. Her hand flies to her chest, and my gaze is drawn to her breasts. They’re large for her small frame, and they’re perky and inviting. Are they real? I don’t really care. All I’m looking for is a hookup, and that starts with an introduction. Again, I pat the couch, and she rises on her sexy high heels and saunters over to me.

My eyes can’t move fast enough as they trace her entire body. She’s beautiful and has an hourglass shape that I’d love to run my hands and tongue over for hours. When she finally lowers down next to me, her unique perfume registers. It’s both spicy and seductive, not flowery or feminine, like many women. Is she as feisty as her scent suggests? If so, that could prove incredible during sex.

Taking a chance, I set my hand on her knee, then run it slowly up toward her thigh. The soft skin under my touch is heavenly. When I near the short hem of her dress, she sucks in a large gulp of air. Good . I’m not the only one affected.

Leaning in, I whisper against her ear, “Hey, beautiful. What’s your name?”

This woman who holds all my attention is dressed like sin incarnate in a short, tight, sparkly black dress that accentuates all her assets. Her high, full breasts, tight ass, trim waist, long blond hair, and bright blue eyes captivate me.

“I’m Kayla,” she whispers back.

Smiling widely, I say, “Kayla, I’m Josh. It’s nice to meet you. Want to get a drink?” At her nod, I motion to the server standing nearby.

After she orders a lemon drop, she asks, “What do you do, Josh?” Then she flutters her lashes at me

Is she serious? Giving her the benefit of the doubt, I answer, “I play for the Chicago Steel.”

Kayla gasps dramatically, making me uneasy. “You’re a professional hockey player? I’ve never been to a game. Do you think maybe you could help me get a ticket?”

Immediately, her request sets me on edge. Over the years, I’ve met my share of opportunistic people just looking for a handout. Is that her angle? Sitting back and watching her while the server delivers her drink, I chastise myself. You were looking at her like a quick fuck. Can you really judge her for trying to get something out of this meeting too?

Taking a refreshing swig of my beer, I wonder if I should just move on. But then Kayla says something that makes me reconsider if I’ve judged her too harshly.

“Wait, Josh. I just realize that sounded bad. Shit. I’m not asking for a free ticket. I can afford one. Being new to Chicago and still learning my way around, I don’t know where to go to get one. Do I go to the arena or can I get one online?” Her words are rushed, and it shows she’s flustered. It’s a bit of a relief.

Reaching out to grab one of her hands, I try to calm her. “No worries, I got you. You can go online to the Steel website.” Relieved, she flashes me a radiant smile. Her perfectly straight white teeth sparkle at me from underneath her expertly painted red lips. Damn, she’s sexy . Thoughts of the rest of my night crowd my brain and I know I want her starring in it. Just when I’m about to broach that subject, something she said registers. She just moved here. “Where did you move from?” I ask, nervous about her response. Please don’t say Arizona.

She giggles. “Born and raised in New York.”

“What made you move to Chicago?”

Instead of answering me, she deflects with a question of her own. “Have you always lived in Chicago?”

Maybe she isn’t interested in getting to know each other past a certain point. That’s okay with me. I don’t do repeats, so I likely won’t see her after tonight.

“I grew up in Arizona and moved to Chicago a few years ago to play for the Steel.”

“I love Arizona. It’s so warm.” She hums, then an uncomfortable silence hovers between us.

Looking toward the dance floor, I nod my head toward it. “Want to dance?” Kayla squeals and gives me a big grin. Jumping to her feet on her sky-high stilettos, she pulls me to mine and I follow her through the VIP section and over to where everyone is dancing. She starts moving, and I spin her, then pull her back to my front. Kayla grinds up against my dick. And it doesn’t take long for me to go from half-mast to hard as steel. As soon as Kayla feels it, her dancing becomes even more erotic. Because of her movements, her short dress rises, exposing a lot of her smooth, tanned skin. While dancing, it feels like she’s channeling a pole dancer and I’m her own personal pole. It’s beyond sexy, watching her twist, gyrate and slide up and down me. With women, I’ve never looked beyond physical chemistry for a hookup. And tonight is no different. Apparently, what we have is just what it’ll take to be explosive together. Maybe if it’s good, I’ll even consider a repeat. That’s if things between us are as hot as I imagine they’ll be.

When the song ends, I pull Kayla tight to my groin so there’s no misunderstanding my intentions when I lick up her ear and say, “Want to get out of here?”

Her answer is to turn her mouth to me, lick her lips, and moan, “Yes.”

Wasting no time, I weave us through all the patrons, through the darkened hallway, and to the club’s entrance. Pulling up my Uber app, I order a car. It’s nearby, so in the few minutes it takes to arrive, I pull up hotels in the area, booking a room at the first five-star option I see.

A notification pops up on my phone to let me know the Uber has arrived. “Let’s go.” Taking Kayla’s hand, I lead her out to the waiting car. After we get in, I tell the driver where we’re headed. Then I sit back and enjoy the short ride with a sexy blond who can’t seem to keep her hands off me.

Kayla leans into me, setting her hand on my thigh, extremely close to my cock, and drops her voice. “We aren’t going to your house?”She doesn’t even try to hide her disappointment, but it’s something I never do.

Firmly, I answer, “Kayla, I have hookups. I don’t do relationships and I take no one home.” She pouts, looking at me, and bats her lashes. Sweetheart, don’t even try. That won’t work on me. Annoyed, I frown at her, hoping she’ll take the hint. Kayla loses the pout and I ask, “If you’re still interested, I already paid for the room. If not, you can stay there tonight and I’ll go home, alone. But I’d rather see where the night takes us. I’m betting from the chemistry we have, tonight will be phenomenal.” The Uber arrives before I have her answer. Kayla climbs out and pulls me with her. Guess that’s a yes. Smart girl.

As soon as the room door closes us in, I’m pushing Kayla toward the wall, desperate for her. Because she’s so petite, I lift her up to better access her mouth. She tightly wraps her legs around me and grinds her hot center into my hard cock. Damn . She’s not holding back. I like it. Thrusting my hips into her, I let her know I’m all in and ready.

Releasing her lips, I pull back far enough to see her face. A lust-drunk smile stretches across her face as if she’s already come, but I’m pretty sure she hasn’t. Her hips are still grinding fervently against my hard-as-steel cock, and it feels fucking amazing. Then I notice her eyes are rolled back in her head. She has to be close. Thrusting my hips forward, giving her more pressure, causes her to release another moan. After a few quick rotations, her mouth drops open, forming a perfect O. That’s sexy as fuck.

Once she comes down from her high, her body slumps against mine. I nudge up her head and she gives me a dreamy stare.

“Hi,” Kayla says on a sigh.

“Hi,” I answer with a smirk. “How are you?”

Without missing a beat, she licks her lips and confidently answers, “Ready for round two.” It’s hot that she knows what she wants.

Making sure she’s still wrapped around my waist, I move over to the king-sized bed. I toe off my shoes before I set her down. Then I strip off my clothes, unashamed and eager for what’s next. Then I’m standing before her, buck-ass naked. Kayla kicks off her heels and shimmies out of her dress, leaving her in a scandalous set of barely-there black lace bra and panties.

Crawling up on the bed, she lies back and I hover above her. She giggles. Running her hands over my biceps, she croons, “You must be really strong, Josh.”

Leaning down, only inches from her lips, I run my tongue along the seam of hers and mutter, “I am,” then I claim a kiss. While kissing, she shimmies out of her undergarments. When I break the kiss to look at her, she’s a vision.

Needing more, I dive back in for another taste. Kayla’s kisses are mind-numbingly good, leaving me feeling not only winded, but off-kilter. It’s like she’s cast a spell on me. She pulls me in tight and I settle between her legs, very aware that I’m naked and only inches from her heated center. She kisses me again and while I’m lost in the haze of lust; I feel her nudge her hips forward. It’s like she’s trying to align us. Confused, I know I haven’t put a condom on. I pull back roughly and ask, “What are you doing?”

Upon hearing the accusation in my voice, she makes another pouty face. I push up, backing off of her, and scowl. When we met, I’d gotten a weird vibe off her for asking for that ticket. Now this. Whilst my dick is happy to lead this parade, my mind is shouting at me to be wary of this chick.

“Kayla, I don’t have a condom on, and I don’t ever fuck without one. So, if you’re ready, let me know and I’ll wrap up,” I growl.

“I’m clean, Josh, and I just had my period last week, so we don’t need a condom,” she answers in a syrupy, sweet voice that sets off warning bells. No chance in hell I’m going bareback in some random.

“It’s a condom or nothing. Your choice,” I gruffly explain, not caring either way. At this point, I can either fuck or not. My hand works just fine if she’s going to continue pushing me. Nothing is worth this hassle.

Kayla rolls her eyes, grabs her dress, which is still on the bed, pulls a condom out of a hidden pocket, and hands it to me. Not wasting any more time, I rip it open, roll it over my long, hard shaft, and move back over her. There’s a nagging in the back of my mind saying don’t do this . But I tell myself to shut the fuck up. I deserve a good fuck. So, I stay.

Seeing that we’re both eager and ready to get on with it, I line myself up and drive home in one thrust, bottoming out completely. “So good,” I say on a moan. Giving our bodies a second to adjust, I savor the feel of Kayla’s muscles squeezing me tight. Pulling out slowly and thrusting back in harder gains her attention and her blue eyes flick open, focusing on me.

She smiles and rasps, “Harder, Josh.” Don’t have to tell me twice.

Each thrust into her moves her farther up the bed. “Harder,” she demands, and I grunt. She wants it harder? When I feel her muscles tighten around me, I pull out and flip her over. Tugging her hips up toward me, she sneaks a seductive look over her shoulder. Anchoring my hand around her hip, I forcefully drive back in. With this new angle, I can go even deeper than before, and the feeling is exquisite. Knowing I’m close and that Kayla is too, I reach around and find her clit. With sure, swift flicks, I send her over the edge. When she tightens around me, I give in to my release. Plummeting over the edge, I join her in ecstasy. Collapsing over her, draping my body like a blanket, we ride the high together.

“Damn,” I pant as I try to catch my breath.

Once I’ve calmed down, I climb off her. Entering the bathroom, I take care of the condom and clean myself up. Kayla’s cuddled down in the blankets when I return. Seeing me, her eyes light up with hope, and it makes my entire body shudder. Think of it as self-preservation. My body confirms that I need to get out of there, asap. Just knowing her after-sex reaction has spooked me only guarantees how much of a dick I can be. But so far, I’ve never stayed the night with a woman, and I never plan to. Because of my family’s wealth, the inheritance I’ve received, and what I earn in the NHL, I’ll always question others’ motives toward me. I don’t trust many. Trust is hard, and to this day, I’ve never been able to give it to any woman except my grandmother. I’ve never allowed myself to get that close to the opposite sex. No woman has even come close to tempting me to relinquish the tight hold I have on it. That part of my life’s locked down, hidden away.

The idea of being used or taken advantage of is something my grandfather always drilled home. He’d tell me, “Opportunistic people are everywhere, looking for a chink in your armor. Wanting to force their way into your life, no matter the cost.” The thought of that is maddening. It’s caused me to question everything and everyone. I’ve never truly known if people’s intentions are honest and trustworthy or fake and deceptive. Having someone only want me for my money or because I’m a professional hockey player is upsetting. Well, mostly. I guess I have used my job for my benefit. Not to sound too egotistical, but by using my name, I can get laid as often as I want.

Reaching down, I grab my clothes off the floor and begin getting dressed. Kayla’s hopeful expression falls, but I shrug it off. I told her I don’t do relationships. Over the years, I’ve learned I don’t want or need a relationship to be happy. Hockey is my life, and it’s all I need.

When the last of my clothes are on, I lean over the bed, kiss Kayla on the cheek, and say, “Thanks, that was fun.” She lets out a high-pitched squawk that sends a shiver down my spine, reminding me of nails on a chalkboard. Immediately, her arms fly across her chest, crossing against her still-naked breasts, thrusting them higher. Her pouting is childish and annoying as fuck. Another reason to get out now.

Knowing my staying any longer won’t help the situation, I head toward the door.

“You’re really leaving?” she squeals like a banshee.

Calmly, I nod and answer, “Yes. A hookup was all this was ever going to be. I thought you understood that.”

Again, she pouts, but then her lips turn into a snarl. It’s alarming and scary as fuck. I’ve never had this reaction from a hookup before. Some women look sad, but mostly they’re as eager for me to leave as I am to go. Confused by her reaction, I mutter, “I thought you understood.”

“Understood,” she growls. “I understood I was going to have sex with you, but I didn’t understand that you would run from the room afterward like your ass was on fire.” She launches a pillow at me with the accuracy of a starting pitcher on a softball team. I’m impressed. But then she opens her mouth and hollers out, “You are a class-A dick, Josh.” Time to go.

Not wanting to deal with her drama anymore, I reply with, “Yep, I guess I am.” Shutting the door and walking away is the smartest move I’ll ever make. Her raging tantrum carries through the thick door and into the hallway. Hopefully, she doesn’t do too much damage since the room is on my credit card. It’s not like I can’t afford to pay for any repairs, but I’d rather not. I don’t need her or an opportunistic hotel employee starting rumors about me. I walk away calmly. My father doesn’t need any ammunition against me. But until then, I’ll do my best to fly under the radar, avoiding conflict and unnecessary drama.