Rookie Rules. Red-Hot Trouble: Hockey Sports Romance (Standalone Reads) (Hot Ice Book 8) Read online

  “Never again,” I said. “Damn takeouts.”

  “But the shrimp is your only complaint of that night?” he asked, doing that thing with his hand again, pretending to slide it down his leg but actually stroking mine.

  I glanced at Darya, heat popping in my cleavage and on my temples despite the air-conditioning. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  He leaned closer and the scent of his musky, black pepper cologne invaded my nostrils. “I mean was everything else to your taste?” He swept his tongue over his bottom lip.

  I pushed at his shoulder and pulled my leg away. “Oh, grow up, will you?”

  “Not in this lifetime,” he said with a laugh. “And it’s hard to be serious with you around, baby. I keep having all these dirty flashbacks.”

  I huffed and stared out of the window. God, what would Darya think of me?

  The reception went like a dream. The welcome cocktails were apple juice and Smirnoff laced with edible gold leaf, the venue a luxury boutique hotel that had been filled with snow-white flowers. A harpist, who looked like an angel, played in the corner of the room.

  Thankfully, I’d orchestrated it so I wasn’t sitting next to Jackson during the wedding breakfast—one advantage of helping plan the wedding with Samantha and offering to draw up the seating plan. Though when we arrived I saw him glance my way as we took our seats. I wouldn’t have put it past him to try and switch so that he could irritate me further.

  But why? Why did he want to torment me? I just wanted to get through the day with a scrap of dignity and not fall for him any more than I already had. Because falling for him was exactly what had happened when we’d spent the night together. How could it not? I’d been lusting after him for so long; checking him out at every game I’d attended and eagerly drinking up any gossip I could find online about him. Spending a night with the object of my affection had only served to make me more obsessed. Which was why I’d hoped for a clean break. One night of fun and then cut the ties. Except my best friend had gone and married his best friend, which meant we were thrown together again, here, at a goddamn wedding.

  Samantha’s father tapped a silver spoon against a glass and stood. The room fell silent. “I apologize in advance for my lack of Russian language,” he said. “Though I am grateful, beyond grateful, for my new son-in-law’s mastery of English and that of his family who have joined us today. I’m sure next month when we travel to Sokol for more wedding celebrations I will be feeling as bemused as some of you are today.” I smiled politely and glanced up the long table I sat at.

  Samantha was smiling up at her father. Vadmir was twisting his hands together, no doubt a little nervous about making his speech next, and Jackson. Damn, Jackson was staring straight at me.

  The chink of glasses told me toasts were being made. I tore my gaze from Jackson and raised my champagne flute. “To Mr. and Mrs. Arefyev,” I said along with everyone else.

  Vadmir stood and cleared his throat. “On behalf of my wife and I, I’d like to thank you all for being here.”

  A chorus of whoops and whistles rang out from the table that held the Vipers captain, Rick “Ramrod” Lewis, the team’s best forward, Phoenix, and all-round mayhem causer Brick. A child let out a squeal and I noticed Phoenix’s wife, Brooke, gathering a toddler onto her lap.

  Vadmir sat down abruptly.

  There was a moment of hush, of expectancy, then Jackson stood up, whacked Vadmir on the back. “Thanks for that, buddy, I always knew you weren’t a man of many words and that just proved it.”

  There was a gentle ripple of laughter.

  “Shall I?” Jackson said, indicating to several bunches of flowers set behind the top table.

  “Oh, crap, yes, I forgot,” Vadmir said, shaking his head. “Sorry,” he mouthed at Darya and then turned to me and shrugged with an apologetic expression.

  Jackson reached for one of the large bunches of flowers, all white, and then raised his glass. “To the beautiful bridesmaids,” he said with a grin. “Who’ve made a beautiful day even more so.”

  “To the bridesmaids,” everyone said.

  A blush crept over my cheeks and I glanced down at my name card.

  “Harmony.”

  I looked up.

  Jackson was looming over me, his shadow blocking out the light from the window and his scent once again swirling around me. He stooped, got closer and closer and pressed a kiss to my cheek. His lips were a little damp and the designer stubble on his jawline scratched my face.

  I shut my eyes. For a moment there was only us in the room. No, we were back in his apartment, clothes a thing of the past and pleasure the only objective.

  He lingered over that delicate kiss, I was sure he did, and pulled in a deep breath, as though my perfume was taking him back to another time and place, too.

  Then he was gone, passing Darya her flowers and quickly pecking her cheek.

  My heart fluttered. I reached for my drink. The urge to stroke my face, where his mouth had just been, was almost overwhelming but I resisted. The whole room would guess how he affected me if I did that. Damn, they could probably already tell.

  Chapter Three

  “Ladies and gentlemen, could you please gather ’round for the first dance,” the DJ boomed.

  The lights dimmed and in their place the disco ball flashed red and green, swooping a spotlight across the floor as Samantha and Vadmir took to the center.

  “I love this Bryan Adams song.”

  I glanced to my right. It was Carly, Brick’s wife. “Yes,” I said, “Everything I do, I do it for you. Very appropriate for a wedding.”

  “I went to see him live once.” She smiled at me. “Years ago, though.”

  I nodded and again fiddled with the pendent at my neck. It was strange after being a Vipers fan for years to suddenly be immersed in the team and have their wives and girlfriends just wander up and chat. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get used to it, but then, I probably wouldn’t have to, not after today. Samantha wasn’t working anymore. She didn’t need to, but I did. I had flights next week. I’d miss my best friend, though, desperately. In fact, it was something I was trying not to think about.

  “Hey, I was looking for you.” Brick walked up and put his arm over Carly’s shoulder. “I thought I was going to miss out on my dance.”

  “I was right here waiting for you,” she said.

  The music changed and two other couples took to the floor, joining the bride and groom. Carly and Brick melted together and began to sway in the lights.

  I stepped backward but my shoulders hit something hard and solid.

  “Hey, where you going?” Jackson said into my ear.

  His hot breath journeyed down my neck and spine, and a fizz of pleasure shot through me.

  “To sit down,” I said, catching my breath as his thick arms wound around my waist and he tugged me closer.

  “I don’t think so. It’s traditional for the chief bridesmaid to dance with the best man.”

  “Is it?” God, I felt so small in his arms, small and delicate yet protected by his strength and size.

  “Yeah, and you know it.”

  Suddenly he twirled me around and tugged me onto the dance floor. I stumbled slightly but he held me up and dragged me closer still.

  “Jackson,” I gasped, pressing my palms onto his chest. He’d removed his suit jacket and the soft cotton of his pristine white shirt allowed me to feel the hot, hardness of his body beneath.

  “What?” he asked, smiling.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Dancing, with you.”

  “But...”

  “But I’ve stalked you all day. Yeah, I’m sorry about that, couldn’t help it.”

  “Stalk, yes, that’s the word.” Damn, he was right. He had stalked me. He’d been everywhere I’d turned, looked, sat and stood.

  “I don’t think you’re complaining, though.” He lowered his head so that his lips were only a whisper from mine. “And I’m only returning the stalking
favor.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well let’s just say you weren’t accidently outside the rink that afternoon. You were hoping to bump into me. Admit it.”

  “It might not have been you I was waiting for,” I said, going for nonchalant but not with much confidence. Who was I kidding? It was only him, had only ever been him I looked out for at hockey games.

  He grinned and I studied the way his top lip stretched and his cheeks balled. “But it was me, wasn’t it?”

  I looked away.

  He rested his hand on my cheek and turned me back to face him. “I’m not complaining though, baby. In fact, I’m glad you did.”

  I pressed my lips together and spread my fingers out on his chest. What the hell was happening?

  “We had an amazing time,” he went on, “as you put it earlier, fucking each other stupid.”

  “Jackson.” I glanced left and right. “Shh...”

  He smiled. “No one is interested in us, it’s all about the bride and groom today.”

  I looked at Samantha, who had her head resting on Vadmir’s shoulder and her eyes closed. Vadmir was holding her as though he’d never let her go.

  “They make a great couple,” Jackson said.

  “Yes, the best.”

  “Ah, well, I’d dispute that. We were the best that night, don’t you think? On our one and only night together the earth moved.”

  I huffed. “That’s corny.”

  “But you’re not denying it?”

  A flutter of arousal tugged at my belly. “No. I can’t deny there were a few earthquakes.”

  He grinned. “It was so hot, wasn’t it?”

  My nipples tightened and I hoped they wouldn’t be visible through my satin dress. Damn. Of course they would be. “Yes, it was hot. It was also a one-night stand.”

  “Says who?”

  “Me.”

  He poked out his tongue, swept it over his bottom lip and stared down at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “Wanna make it a two-night stand?”

  “Yes.” The word popped out before my brain even had time to process the question.

  He smiled, slow and sexily but also with more than a hint of predator. He’d made his catch, gone in for the kill and won.

  I trembled. Not out of fear but out of anticipation. Now, this time, I knew exactly what this hockey player could do in the bedroom. His on-ice skills were nothing compared to his between-the-sheets talents. I was in for the ride of my life, for the second time.

  “Shall we get out of here?” he asked.

  “I think that would be sensible if we’re going to...” I paused and swallowed.

  “Fuck?” he said.

  “Yes, fuck.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked as Jackson led me out the front of the hotel.

  “You’ll see.” He’d grabbed his jacket as we’d left and slung it over his shoulder, his finger hooked in the label. He strode forward, all purpose and determination, his smart suit belying the feral needs I knew he had lurking beneath the surface. “But we can’t just leave.”

  “Sure we can.”

  “But...”

  He stopped and turned. His face was serious, his eyes flashed. “No one will notice, I promise.”

  “But you’re the best man and I’m—”

  His mouth hit down on mine. Hard and fast. His tongue poked between my lips and he dragged me close. I whimpered and hung onto him. Shut my eyes and let myself be transported to the fun we’d had before. Damn, the man could kiss for the Olympics.

  “We won’t be long,” he said a little breathlessly. “Trust me.”

  Within minutes we were on the freeway. My head was spinning and my lips felt bruised. It was getting dark now, and light from the streetlamps slid an orange glow over my legs and short dress every few seconds.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “We’re here now. I told you it wasn’t far,” Jackson said, turning into a parking lot I recognized only too well.

  “The rink.”

  He turned off the ignition. “Yeah, I thought you’d like a private tour, being you’re a fan and all.”

  “Well yes, but—”

  “But you’re missing the wedding. I know, so am I but hey, when else can I guarantee to get it completely empty? No one is going to be here to disturb us, the entire team are partying a mile down the road.”

  “Disturb us?” What was he on about? Oh, God, he meant fuck here, didn’t he? Something about that thought both disturbed and thrilled me, and a thud of desire pulsated through my core. He grinned sinfully then leapt out of the car, scooted ’round and pulled me up to my feet. I stared at the colossal red rink.

  A huge Viper logo lit the front of the building but Jackson steered me to the rear, walking quickly and efficiently with his hand at the small of my back. We reached the doorway I’d loitered next to waiting for him.

  He paused. “Happy memories?” he asked.

  “It was hotter than it is now.”

  He tugged on his bottom lip and studied me. “Mmm, you better have this.” He wrapped his suit jacket around my shoulders. “That should keep the chill off when we get inside.” He opened the door and stepped into the darkness. “Come on.”

  I followed him and instantly cool air caressed my cheeks and slid down my legs. “Are we allowed in here at night?” I could smell him, on the jacket that was wrapped over me. A bluster of memories swooshed into my mind. His scent, it seemed, did that to me.

  “Can’t see why not? I work here.” He draped his arm over my shoulder and with the other held his iPhone flashlight. “This way.”

  We walked in silence through several back corridors. I tried to take it all in, this out-of-bounds area, and admired the photographs on the walls and the hockey paraphernalia in a large cabinet by a set of offices.

  “Tell me if you get too cold,” he said.

  I was too excited to feel cold. In fact, the chill was welcome. “Is the ice near?” I could smell it, the crisp, clean scent of a rink.

  “Yes...” He stopped and clicked several switches on the wall.

  “Wow!”

  We were at the entrance to the tunnel and I could see the huge expanse of white ahead.

  I walked forward, lured to it. “It’s amazing from here.”

  I scanned the empty stands, the dark press box and the huge black TV screen.

  “Yeah, it’s even more amazing when there’s an opposing team who are hell bent on getting the puck past me.”

  “Yes, I can imagine.”

  “However,” he said, taking my hand as we stepped onto the ice. “It’s pretty amazing having you here, too.”

  “You don’t have to say that.”

  “I don’t do anything I don’t want to do,” he said with a grin.

  I gripped his fingers as my foot slipped. “Argh!”

  “Whoa, I’ve got you,” he said, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me against the length of his body. “Steady now.”

  “Shit,” I muttered, “heels are not sensible on ice.”

  He glanced downward. “Fuck, no they’re not.”

  Suddenly I was up in the air, pressed against him.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, clutching his shoulders. “We’ll go over here, I forgot about your girly shoes.”

  He marched across the ice as though it was normal ground. It was so quiet I could hear his footsteps and his breaths. My pulse was drumming in my ears and the wedding suddenly felt a million miles away.

  “This should be better for you,” he said, depositing me on terra firma on the other side of the boards.

  “The penalty box?” I said with a grin. “What have I done wrong?”

  He climbed in next to me and gathered the lapels of his jacket in his fists, tugging me close. “Oh, baby, you’ve done lots of dirty, bad things and you know it.”

  His breath washed over me and a tremble went through my knees. The low timbre of his voice, echoing around the empty stadium and
the desire burning in his eyes made my pussy clench and arousal burn deep in my belly.

  “With you,” I whispered onto his lips. “I’ve done my dirtiest, most sinful deeds with you.”

  He smiled. “So the sin bin is the perfect place.”

  “Perfect for both of us.”

  Suddenly I was in his arms and he was kissing me with a hunger that stole my breath.

  I pressed up close to him, wondering if I’d ever get close enough. Damn why were we still dressed and upright?

  “I want to fuck you again, here, now,” he said, spreading kisses over my cheek to my ear. “And then again later, all night.” He bit my lobe, not gently, enough to make me gasp. “And then the night after that, too.”

  “Yes,” I said, grabbing his butt, giving it a damn good grope. “Fuck yes, now and later. Works for me.”

  The Armani jacket fell to the dusty floor, forgotten, and Jackson steered me to the bench. The bench I’d seen countless Viper players cursing and complaining on as they’d cooled down from fouls and checks.

  He sat, breaking our kiss.

  “Lose this,” I said, stooping between his legs and fumbling with his belt. I was breathing fast, my chest heaving against the constraints of my tight bodice. I wanted his cock now.

  He was already on the case, undoing the buckle and sliding the strip of leather free.

  We both delved for the zipper of his pants, my hands trembling as impatience ate away at me.

  “Fuck, you’ve got me raring to go,” he said. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking of that night. It’s like you cast a spell on me.” He paused and looked up. “Have you any idea what you did to me?”

  I slid my hand into his pants and pulled his cock free. “Something like this?” I asked, massaging his shaft from root to tip and back down again.

  He groaned and dropped his head back. It landed on the wall with a soft bump. “Yeah, and more, much more.”

  I dropped to my knees. The floor was scratchy and gritty but I didn’t care. I was too caught up in the moment, too intent on getting up close and personal with Jackson’s cock again.

  I licked my lips, opened my mouth wide and took his glans onto my tongue.