Ryker

  "What are you going to fine him with?" Frank asks, finally turning on his business mind and letting this personal antipathy toward Ryker fade for the moment.

  "I'm not," I say as I stand up from my desk, indicating our meeting is over.

  He blinks in surprise as he stands. "You're not going to fine him for what he said?"

  "It's a free country, Frank. He's free to say whatever he wants."

  Which isn't exactly true. I think implying forcible sex on one of the executives is enough to get you fired from the team, but I'm going to come at Claude from another angle. If he doesn't work out with this team, it's not going to be because I can't do my job as a general manager and get my players under control.

  "We need to talk about Max," Frank says as I start herding him toward the door.

  "There's nothing to talk about," I assure him swiftly.

  "But he's healthy...starting back at practices. We need to discuss putting him back in as starting goalie."

  I shake my head. "That's not our job and you know it, Frank. That's up to Coach Pretore to make the call."

  "But he will listen to management's thoughts on it," Frank insists.

  "Then you really don't want me talking to him, because my opinion is that Ryker should stay in until he proves otherwise. You never mess with a hot goalie, and he's hot right now."

  Frank opens his mouth to argue but only silence comes out. That's because he knows he can't argue with Ryker's current stats. No one can. He's the best in the league at this moment.

  "I've got a busy day," I tell Frank, and that's his cue to get the hell out. He finally leaves and I walk with heavy feet back to my desk. It's only 12:30 P.M. and another first in my life.

  I wish I didn't have to work for the rest of the day.

  I grab my phone and let my hormones take charge. I type a quick text to Ryker.

  Can't stop thinking about last night.

  I know he probably won't see it right away so I decide to review a new proposed contract extension for one of our newly minted left wingers on the third line. We brought him up from the minors on a three-month deal and he's exceeded our expectations, so we want to sign him for the full year.

  My phone emits the slow whoop of an incoming text and I make a mad scramble for the phone, coming perilously close to knocking it off my desk. When I get it in hand, I stab at the button to turn the screen on and see the text from Ryker.

  I can't stop thinking about how you tasted when you came. I'm dying for another taste.

  Oh. My. Fucking. God.

  He didn't?

  I read the words again.

  He did, and I squeeze my legs together tight to alleviate the throbbing that has started.

  My fingers are trembling when I text him back, every bit of rational common sense having abandoned me. I'm free until four if you can come to my office.

  I hit Send and wait for the inevitable guilt to swallow me whole. Inviting my lover--my employee--to my place of employment where I became the general manager just shy of two weeks ago, and I'm going to fuck him in my office.

  Except the guilt never comes.

  But Ryker's reply does.

  Be there in twenty minutes.

  --

  I'm slouched in my chair, my ass barely perched on the edge. Ryker is kneeling between my legs, which are spread wide with my skirt bunched around my hips. One of my legs is resting on his shoulder, the other he's ignored. He's got my panties pulled to the side and two fingers lodged inside of me to the third thick knuckle.

  "Feel good?" he murmurs so very quietly. I can't believe I'm letting him do this to me when my secretary sits just on the other side of my closed--and locked--office door.

  I can't even answer, I'm so consumed with filthy lust. I want him to do whatever he wants to me and I'd never say no. It's too deliciously scandalous what we're doing and I know that's part of the attraction in all of this.

  Ryker dips his face and prods my clit with his tongue. Just barely, but pleasure rockets through me. I bite down on my lip hard to keep from moaning and he raises his eyes as he licks me again. My head snaps backward and my breasts arch, my foot on the ground pressing down hard to keep my balance.

  He pulls his lips free just long enough to shush me, and then he dives down. His fingers pump in and out of me and his tongue works me over hard. In just minutes my fingers are digging into his scalp as a massive orgasm tears through me, and I can actually feel Ryker smile against my still tingling sex.

  When I'm done shaking, he gently removes his fingers and sits back on his heels, lowering my leg that was perched on one shoulder. His eyes travel down my body, spending a bit of time staring between my legs as I sag down into my leather executive chair. When he looks back up me, his gives me a lopsided grin and says, "You taste mighty fine, Miss Brannon."

  And I swear...another wave of pleasure ripples through me. A mini orgasm from his words alone.

  "Get a condom out, baby," I rasp as I lift my hips to remove my panties.

  "No can do," he says apologetically. "I didn't restock. Wasn't even thinking about that as I drove over here."

  I tilt my head to the side. "What were you thinking about?"

  He chuckles and surges up from the floor. His fingers thread through my hair and he grasps me by the back of my neck and stares down at me. "I was thinking of eating you out, Gray. And I did that."

  My eyes flick to his crotch, which is almost at eye level with me. His erection is straining the front of his pants and I can't believe he came over here not thinking of what would happen after he ate me out.

  I reach out and trail a finger down his shaft, which lies to the left of his zipper. His hips arch forward even as he says, "Stop it."

  "We don't need a condom," I blurt out, my fingers going to work on the top button of his pants.

  He's in my hands in moments, his pants easily dispensed with by pushing them down his thighs. I sit up in my chair, lean forward, and lick the tip of his cock.

  "Oh, Christ, Gray," he hisses through his teeth. "Please don't stop."

  "I won't," I whisper as I look up at him. "I'll do whatever you want me to. But I meant...we could have sex without a condom."

  "You trust me?" he rasps out.

  "Yes. You trust me?"

  "Yes."

  "Then do you want a blow job or do you want me to ride you?" I ask him silkily, giving a bit of a tug on his cock.

  Before I even know what's happening, he has me pulled out of my chair, his own ass sitting on it, and he has me lifted and straddling him. The tip of his erection bumps up against me and a surge of feminine power ripples all around.

  We both look down.

  I'm hovering, just barely out of reach of him. He fists his shaft and my hands go to his shoulders for leverage. And ever so slowly, never taking my eyes off our joining for one erotic second, I sink down onto him. His thickness fills me so fully that I actually purr.

  Like a damn cat.

  When I glance up, Ryker's eyes pin me in place, filled with need. "Kiss me."

  And I do.

  And I don't stop the entire time that I ride him. I thank the yoga gods for making my legs strong and my stamina steady. I fuck him slowly while we kiss, his hands on my hips to help guide. I grind against him, eat up his groans with my mouth, and as he starts to come inside of me, I rest my forehead against his as he whispers my name in gratitude.

  --

  And my day ends on a shitty note.

  If I thought I couldn't concentrate before Ryker's little visit, my brain was absolute mush after he left. Even though I cleaned myself in my private bathroom, I kept imagining the rest of the afternoon that his semen was still sliding out of me and I'd have a huge wet spot on my skirt. Or when my secretary came in my office about half an hour after Ryker left, I was terrified she could smell the sex in the air.

  And when my father came in to talk to me about budget figures, I was sure he could identify the red flush to my neck as having come from a spectac
ular orgasm.

  But then...it was four o'clock and Claude Amedee showed up for our meeting. I had caught him just outside the plane after we landed, where I calmly told him I knew about the fight and I wanted to speak to him about it. He was a douche, of course, and said, "Let's talk now."

  I had to show him that I was the boss, so I insisted my schedule was too busy and could only meet him at four. He left pissed and I knew he'd be in a mood when he showed up today.

  He sits across from me now, arms crossed defensively and slouched down in his chair. He's trying for a pleasant smile but he doesn't realize he's only pulling off a spectacular glare. I try to ease the situation immediately because my goal here today is to try to turn this around. I know he thinks I'm going to chew his ass out for the things he said, but he's got another thing coming.

  "I'm not mad about the things you said about me," I say, and watch as disbelief swarms his face. "I am a little disappointed, but not mad. I get it and I know you're not happy with the change in management."

  A muscle starts ticking in his lower jaw. I decide to roll the dice and really take my gamble. "You know you have the right to press charges against Ryker Evans if you want. You can even request a formal inquiry with my office and I'll launch a full investigation. That's why I called you in. I wanted to let you know your rights and assure you that I won't tolerate that stuff on my team. Ryker was completely in the wrong on this."

  God, that fucking hurt to say that. Tasted like bitter ash in my mouth.

  But I need to calm this situation down, and the best way I know how to do that is show Claude that I'm the type of boss he can trust and put faith in. I'm a good judge of character, and if I'm right, he's not going to want to launch an inquiry because his comments will be made public, and he knows he's a douche for saying that shit.

  "I'm good," he says tersely, and starts to stand from the chair.

  "Claude," I say in a level voice. "I would really like you to give me a chance. It's not good for morale and we have a really good shot at the Cup this year."

  He straightens his body and stares at me a moment. I think he might even give me a smile, a handshake maybe. Instead, he just turns on his heel and walks out of my office.

  And it's at this point that I realize that Claude Amedee has a level of loathing for me that I don't think can be overcome. This bothers me, because I'm not quite sure how to handle it, and another first for me...I've always assuredly handled everything that has come my way.

  It's definitely a first.

  Claude Amedee has put a ding in my confidence.

  Chapter 13

  Ryker

  I'm usually the guy who likes a good party, even better when it's a Christmas party. I mean, what's not to love about Christmas? I wasn't with the Cold Fury last year, but I was told that Brian Brannon puts on a hell of a party on Christmas Eve. Our holiday break isn't very long, but it works. We have the twenty-third through the twenty-sixth off and our next game is at home on the twenty-seventh.

  But tonight, as I stand here in Brannon's twelve-thousand-square-foot home situated on ten farm acres with both an indoor and an outdoor pool, it's hard for me to get in the spirit. The lower level of the house has a massive, open entertainment area that has a huge indoor koi pond. A platform rests in the middle upon which stands a twenty-foot Christmas tree that Ruby and Violet would have gone apeshit over. That's reason number one--and the main reason--that I'm not in the spirit. When Hensley and I worked out our custody agreement, we agreed to alternate holidays. She got the first Christmas and I packed the girls off to Boston three days ago. Now my house is empty and lonely, and while on any given day I grumble about how loud and exuberant my daughters are, now that they're gone, I feel lost.

  The second reason I'm not in the spirit stands across the room from me, the koi pond and floating Christmas tree separating us. Gray looks amazing in a cream-colored fuzzy sweater--not sure what it's made of, but it looks so soft I want to bury my face in it.

  Preferably at chest level.

  She paired the sweater with a black skirt that comes to her knees and tights in a black and cranberry-colored plaid pattern. With short ankle boots with a high heel she looks funky and elegant all at the same time.

  I want to eat her up but I can't, because not one person in this room can know about us.

  We've only been together one more time since we fucked in her office. That was amazing, clandestine, and completely titillating, but we both know that we can't do that again. The risk is too great.

  Unfortunately, it became glaringly apparent after that rendezvous that our lives didn't mesh well. Not only did we have to keep our affair secret, but when we did have time to meet, it was extremely limited due to my role as a father. It's not like I could invite Gray over to the house to meet the girls, because I wasn't even sure what we had. It wasn't a fling, but it wasn't a real relationship, and I'm not about to introduce someone to Ruby and Violet who really has no foothold in my life other than some amazing sex at this point.

  And because I'm a single father, I can't just go out and meet Gray. She invited me to her house one night, but of course I couldn't leave the girls. And I couldn't ask Kate and Zack to keep them for the night, because they'd want to know where I was going for an entire night.

  It's a completely fucked-up situation, and the only time we got to be with each other again was this past Monday when we had an away game in Atlanta. I had just put the girls on a plane to Boston the day before and I was itching hard to get back inside of Gray. Back inside her body, her brain, her heart--

  No, wait. Do I want in her heart?

  I take a sip of my bourbon and club soda and make a subtle sweep of my gaze around the huge room. It's packed with nearly two hundred people who represent the players, the management, the executives, and even all of our subsidiary partners, along with their families. My teammates stand in small groups, talking and laughing...munching on probably a thousand dollars' worth of catered hors d'oeuvre and drinking top-shelf liquor. Because a hockey club is generally young, most of the kids are under the age of ten and they're all playing with toys that Brian and Gray had bought and wrapped for them. They were placed in a massive pile under a second Christmas tree that stood in the corner of the room near a monstrous hearth, and it made me pissy that Violet and Ruby couldn't be here to get their gifts and have fun with the rest of the kids.

  Instead, I imagine they're at the house that I gave Hensley in the divorce settlement, and, with distaste, I imagine Sutter is there too on this Christmas Eve. But I accept that. Hensley has been in a relationship with him for almost a year now--albeit several months were behind my back--and she insists they are in love and are in it together for the long haul.

  I don't see it, though. Everyone thought Demi and Ashton would make it, but let's face it: A twelve-year age difference is a lot, particularly when the man is just nineteen years old. How in the fuck can he know what he wants for the rest of his life at that age? While I don't doubt he has strong feelings for Hensley, and hell, maybe it is love, people change too much over the course of growing the fuck up, and I'm waiting for the day when Hensley realizes the gap is just too big to overcome.

  I actually even feel a little sorry for her already, because she'll be alone. No husband, no boy toy, and no daughters except on planned visitation.

  My eyes sweep back over the crowd and I try a casual attempt to slide them a little slowly over Gray to see if she's even looking at me.

  And she's not.

  There's no way she's even going to take a chance that someone may see the passion between us.

  A passion that actually scares me.

  In Atlanta on Monday, she came to my room after the game and we were almost frantic in our zeal to get at each other. I'd liken us to starved animals trying to fill empty but swollen bellies, except I never did get satiated. We fucked and fondled and talked for hours, and when she had to leave, I wasn't ready for it to happen.

  I was bitter and pissed it h
ad to happen.

  Gray was just sad and she apologized to me for the way things had to be.

  "Dude," I hear from behind me, and Zack grabs me by the shoulder and squeezes hard. I turn to glance at him and I see him swallow back a huge gulp of what I think is bourbon, same as me but not diluted with club soda. He grimaces as he swallows it down and then sets the glass on a nearby buffet table. "I think I'm ready."

  The mere fact that he just had to take a shot of liquor to steady his nerves indicates to me that he's really not ready, but I'm not about to point that out to him. After the failed attempts to get engaged to Kate, I can see why he's a little overwhelmed.

  "This is going to be epic," I assure him. "And you're going to make her very happy."

  Zack nods with a goofy and maybe tipsy grin, and we bump fists.

  "Go get her, tiger," I say, and I watch as he walks over to the kids and takes Ben by the hand. Ben, of course, knows about the proposal and I've been amazed the little man has kept this a secret from Kate. He's not known to hold secrets very well, and there is a long-standing pattern of him telling his father about pranks that Kate tries to pull on him. But so far, he's kept his lips sealed.

  Brian and Gray Brannon know what Zack is up to. They were thrilled he wanted to propose at the party in front of the entire Cold Fury family.

  Zack and Ben walk over to where Kate is talking to Sutton Crossman, who is married to Alex, and Olivia Case, who is dating Garrett Samuelson. I imagine Garrett and Olivia will be getting engaged soon, although they're more likely just to elope. I suspect Olivia is the one who is taking her time, as she is just coming up on her one-year mark since her cancer went into remission. It's a big milestone for her, and once she reaches that, I'm betting they'll be married quickly and babies will be popping out.

  Brian ends up calling out over the crowd, trying to get everyone's attention. Finally, Gray puts her fingers in her mouth and gives a shrill whistle that gets everyone's attention, giving her dad a grin after doing so. He just shakes his head and puts his arm around her shoulders.

  "Everyone...this is normally the time of the evening where I'll let you all know how much I appreciate your dedication to this organization. I hope you know how I truly feel about each and every one of you. But tonight...we're going to do something a little different."