Mind Pucked (Chicago Blue Jays #1)

11. Amelia

11

AMELIA

M y mind is feeling a little fuzzy as I sip on my drink. I’ve lost count of how many shots I’ve had through the night. The only thing I do know is that between the hockey game and the bar, I’ve had a blast.

It’s almost made me forget my true reasons for being here. I know I should be focused on my brother and nothing more than that, but it’s hard when I’m having fun with Jackson and his motley crew of friends…of brothers.

He’s probably right about Felix—he and his new blonde friend are already entangled in a lip-lock. I roll my eyes as I look back to Jackson.

“I watched your little dart game,” he says to me, and I smile at him. “You made a lot of people a lot of money with that game.”

“I saw money being passed around but I didn’t know they were placing bets.” I giggle, flattered to know that people bet on me.

“Turns out no one suspected you would be a pro,” he teases, and I blush a little out of habit.

My body heats and I don’t know if it’s the drink or something else that’s causing me to feel this way. Either way, all I can think about is Jackson’s lips and how kissable they look. I won’t act on that though…not in front of his teammates.

“So, where did you learn to play like that?” he asks, and I stifle a shudder.

“My brother taught me,” I say, but I don’t add anything else.

“That’s great. Not a soul has beat Oliver…ever,” he adds, and I’m glad he hasn’t pushed on the brother topic.

I don’t know what I would say to him if he asked me about my brother. I can’t just say, Oh, you know who he is, you may have killed him, but I don’t know. I’m actually infiltrating your life to prove my theory, but you used to be rivals and he might have been screwing your wife.

I hate the position I’m in—my mind wants me to hate this guy, but my heart and certainly my body are screaming at me to jump him.

“I’m happy to be of some help where beating Oliver is involved,” I say as I glance over to where Oliver is sitting. He’s asleep with his head down on the bar.

I giggle.

“Do you want another drink?” Jackson asks me, pointing to my empty glass.

“I’d take a shot or two,” I say, sending my glass into his hand with a little slide across the bar.

“Eight shots of whatever’s handy,” he says to the bartender, and I gulp.

“I hope you don’t think those are all for me—I’d be swimming by the end of the night,” I giggle, leaning forward a little.

Our arms brush and it sends electricity through me. I can see the look in his eyes as he too leans in a little, but then pulls back as if suddenly remembering we’re in a room full of people.

“Four for me, four for you,” he teases as he lowers his hand to the bar and lets the tips of his fingers caress mine.

It’s an innocent touch, one that most people wouldn’t recognize as anything, but it’s enough to set me on fire. My gut twists with want and longing as I think about what it would be like to be with him out in the open. Could that ever be possible?

Before I can think too much on the subject, four shots of rum are sat in front of me, and four in front of him…no chasers. I lock eyes with him as if setting a challenge.

I pick up the first one and he does the same as we continue to lock eyes. We both down the contents at the same time, and I reach for the second at the same time he does. I smile as my head swims a little, but at the same time, we down another shot.

Cheers erupt from around us as I realize we’ve drawn a small crowd, everyone watching as we pick up our third shots and top those back as well.

Somehow as we reach for our fourth, two more shots each are sat in front of us and I see Felix paying for them.

We down the fourth, then the fifth, and by the time we get to our sixth, two more each have been put down. This time Benjamin and Vaughn are splitting the payment for the new shots.

I down this new one and have to pause a moment to adjust to the new taste of vodka. When did we switch?

The group keeps buying and adding to the shots. The determined look on Jackson’s face tells me I’ll likely throw up before he gives up. Shots nine and ten go down smoothly, but by number twelve, I’m almost done.

The sheer number of shots that are gathering on the bar in front of us is crazy.

“Do you give up?” he asks me as he shoots down his fifteenth or sixteenth.

“No way.” I pick up another and shoot it back…tequila.

I don’t know if it’s the mix of alcohol or what, but I am beginning to feel the effects hard. I get about half the tequila down as Jackson shoots two more at the same time.

“Give,” I say as I slam the half-drunk shot down on the counter and throw my hands in the air. “You win!” I shout as we both start to laugh.

The crowd cheers, and people start to grab the remaining shots off the bar and down them. All the while my eyes are locked in Jackson.

I can hold my alcohol, but apparently so can he. My heart skips a beat as he moves his hand to fully cover mine now. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but my head swims with the knowledge that a public display of affection is a bad idea.

I stiffen a little as he leans forward, but as our lips meet, I relax into it, allowing him to scoot off his stool and stand between my thighs.

More cheers ring from the crowd at seeing us kiss, and a few of the guys slap Jackson on the back, and ass, sending him jolting into me enough that I can feel just how aroused he is through my jeans…and his.

I know I need to stop this. I am here doing this damn thing for a reason, but right now, my heart, mind, and body have forgotten what and why that might be. I don’t know if I care right now either.

Twenty minutes later, we’re crashing into the door of the hotel room we just rented. It’s directly across from the bar and a convenient walk for anyone who has drunk too much.

The door slams behind us, perhaps a little too loudly as my legs wrap around him and we press against the wall. My body is hot and fuzzy, but it only fuels my want for him…no, my need for him.

We continue to kiss one another, Jackson nipping at my neck as I lean into the wall. His hands skim under the hem of my shirt, and I can feel our skin-on-skin contact like it’s a host of fireworks.

“Jackson,” I breathe through our kiss. I feel his fingers skid higher as he uses the wall to hold me up. They slide up my shirt until his palms rest on my breasts. He’s pleasantly surprised by how easy it is to get under my bra, and my nipples harden at his touch.

My legs tighten around him as his mouth trails down my cleavage and I arch my head to where it presses into the wall. My breasts heave closer to his face, and he leans down to the top of my breasts and kisses each one.

I pull my fingers free of his hair and grab the hem of my shirt, pulling it up over my head. We both laugh as it gets stuck on the way over and I fight to get it loose.

“I need to use the restroom,” I say as I throw my shirt to the ground. “Give me five and I’ll be back out.”

With a whimper, he lowers me to the ground. It takes me a few minutes to acclimate myself with the hotel suite and find the bathroom. I go inside and blush at how lavish this place is. This hotel costs nearly as much as a month of rent for my apartment.

I reach down and turn the sink on, splashing water over my face to help calm my nerves. I don’t know what has me so hot and flustered. It’s not like this is our first time, I just feel different now…more.

Of course it could be the alcohol, but I don’t want to admit that to myself.

“Get it together,” I tell myself as I grab a towel and dry my face.

Deep down I know what this is all about. I know I’m slowly tearing down Jackson’s walls. I like that, but part of me doesn’t want to know what I’ll see when I get behind them.

I try not to psych myself up in the bathroom too much, feeling a little guilty and shaky because I’m just too damn attracted to him. I’m not supposed to actually like him…am I?

“What’s keeping you so long?” he purrs from the other side of the door as he knocks.

My heart skitters as I take my perfume and deodorant out of my bag and apply it. I put my hand up to my mouth and breath into my palm, smelling my breath at the same time.

“Ew,” I scowl at myself in the mirror.

I decide not to worry too much about that since we’ve already been kissing, and I make my way to the door. When I open it, Jackson’s sitting on the end of the bed wearing nothing at all, and I run, jumping into his lap, straddling him.

“I seem to be a little overdressed,” I say, seconds before our lips meet.

He hoists me up and turns me to lay me down on the bed, and then he snaps my bra open in the back with the use of one hand… one hand!

My heart flails inside me as I feel my breasts break free. With the same hand, he pulls my bra off me and unbuttons my jeans, all in the same no-effort-needed kind of way.

He lays me back and backs off a little, pulling my jeans off, reveling in the fact that I don’t have panties on.

“You are so damn beautiful,” he says as he crawls over me and leans down, taking my mouth with his.

He trails down my body from my lips to my chin, jaw, chest, and then to my left breast, where he takes my nipple into his mouth, flicking it nimbly with his tongue. He crosses over, kissing a path to where he takes my right nipple in his mouth and does the same.

My hands fist into his hair and I arch at the feeling of his erection at my thigh and the feelings he elicits from me. I feel so free when I’m with him.

“I want you,” I moan as he goes down more, kissing just above my navel and then just below.

“You have me,” he growls as he kisses at the lowest part of my stomach, falling then to the apex of my thighs. “And I have you,” he says eagerly as his lips dip to my molten core. “You’re so ready for me.” He kisses my wetness, then slides his tongue inside me.

I part my legs even more, letting them fall to the bed on either side of him. He slides his hands under my ass and scoots me closer, lifting me up slightly as he squeezes each cheek.

I fight the urge to lock my thighs around his head, and instead I fist his hair and tug a little, arching my back as he moves. He pulls a hand free and slides it forward until his thumb is pressing against my most sensitive spot, lapping up with his tongue as he moves his thumb in circles.

“Jackson…Jackson…” I breathe, and then I shatter around him.

He looks up and smiles at me as he crawls upward, kissing each spot he had kissed before until our lips meet once again. I can taste myself on him and I moan.

“I could do that forever,” he says between broken kisses.

“I could let you.” I smile as he readies himself over me.

I hold my breath for a moment as he plunges inside. I want him, I want all of him. I reach around him as he lowers his head to my neck, brushing it with his lips as he pushes deeper, thrusting within me, further than before.

I exhale in delight as he moves, flexing his strong arms as he raises up a little to look down at me. I graze my nails along the skin of his back as he pulls almost all the way out, and then enters again…teasingly slow.

“Oh hell, that feels good,” I say as he pulls nearly all the way out again.

This time he thrusts forward, hard and firm and I cry out in delight. He gathers my hands in one of his large ones and pulls my arms above my head, holding me there.

I’m completely at his mercy.

He moves with such ease that our bodies feel like one. I dig my heels into his back as I wrap myself tighter around him.

“Amelia, you feel so fucking good around me,” he says. At those words I explode again, and moments later he does the same.

Panting, he pulls out and lies down beside me. We laugh and breathe as the shots finally kick all the way in. I feel sleep pulling at me, but here, looking at him in this way, I want nothing more than to just talk.

“Did you always want to play hockey?” I ask him.

“Always,” he breathes. “Ever since I saw some boys playing on a chunk of ice when I was only five. I had to know what that game was, and from that moment on, I learned nothing as well as I learned hockey. My parents were just happy I was so invested in something.”

“And it looks like you’ve made good friends,” I say, more as an observation.

“Many of those guys I met when we were younger, and I met my wife the same way,” he admits, but I can tell he wishes he hadn’t said anything like that. “I’m so sorry, Amelia, I shouldn’t have mentioned her like that here with you.”

“No,” I say, finding myself touching his face softly. “Don’t be sorry. She’s a part of your life. She always will be. You can look at your daughter and see her face looking back at you. I don’t mind you mentioning her at all.” I offer him a smile, hoping he believes me. “You should talk about her, it might help…” I pause. “I mean, if you want. I know sometimes it’s better to talk than to keep it all in.”

“She was amazing. I loved her so much. She was a better person than I could ever be. The day she…” He pauses and looks at me as if fighting tears. “The day of the wreck, when I found out she died…I had been so upset that day that she and one of our players weren’t at the game. I was mad at her.”

I fight the gut-twisting feeling at the mention of that player. Preston.

“I’m sure that day left you with so many questions,” I say, hoping it’s the right thing to say.

“Yeah, one more than anything.” He sits up in the bed, pulling his knees to his chest as if he’s deep in thought.

“What’s that?” I ask, sitting up too, putting my arm around him.

“Nothing,” he says darkly.

I know I have to tread lightly here, but I need answers. Now is as good a time as any for this conversation, especially with the influence of the shots and the fact that he’s actually talking right now.

“I heard a rumor…” I say quietly as I rub circles on his back.

“What’s that?” he snaps, suddenly looking me in the eyes sternly.

“I can’t recall where I heard it, but I heard that she wasn’t alone in the accident, is that true?” I ask, hoping I don’t scare him away.

“Yeah,” is all he says, and I don’t know if I should push or not.

“I see,” is all I say, thinking I probably shouldn’t pry much more than that unless he’s willing.

“That player I mentioned,” he snaps with heat in his tone. “They found his fucking wallet in her car, his blood , but they never found his body.” There’s so much anger behind his words.

I fight the need to recoil. I don’t know what to say to him, but something tells me…he knows more than he’s saying. He’s involved with my brother’s death.

I know it.

I wait until Jackson falls asleep, and I slip out of bed, finding my clothes strewn about. I put them on as best I can in the dark and make my way out the door, being sure not to slam it on the way out.

I left a note hoping it will work to cover my tracks, but at this point I think I have all the information I need.

Jackson,

I got a call from a friend who needs my help. I left early, hope that’s okay. I had a great time with you last night. Let’s do it again sometime. See you soon.

Amelia.

In no time, I’m home. I walked, which in the dark wasn’t the best idea, but I had to get there. Once I spill into the house, I head straight for the shower to scrub off the lingering feel of Jackson and the fact that I feel dirty for what I’ve done.

Once I get out of the shower, I dress and fall into bed. I’m exhausted and feel sleep tugging at me right away.

Jackson walks toward me. Heat grows between us as our lips meet. I think about the fact that I don’t need to be doing this, but I want to. Oh, how I want to.

I wrap my legs around him and he throws me onto the bed. His actions are passionate and kind at first, but as the heat pools inside me, he becomes rough.

“Jackson, stop!” I yell at him as he leans down and bites my lower lip hard.

“I won’t stop until you’re dead too,” he says as he forces my hands above my head and pinches the inside of my thigh…hard.

“Get off me,” I say, but a sob of fear racks me. “My parents have already lost one child—they don’t need to lose a second.”

Jackson looks at me, and then pushes my head to the side so I’m looking at a video playing on the wall. His hands hold my head still so I can’t look away.

A car crashes.

A beautiful woman is bent at odd angles, but then there’s my brother. He’s alive, screaming for the woman to respond to him, but then a hand reaches in and grabs him.

He’s bleeding bad.

A thudding sound occurs off camera and then the film cuts to the side where Jackson is dragging my brother’s dead body through the woods.

I shoot up in bed. It was just a dream…more like a nightmare.

I realize it isn’t the dream that has woken me up so much as it is my phone notifying me of an incoming video call. I pick up my phone, half expecting it to be Jackson who has noticed I’m gone.

I don’t know if I can talk to him right now, especially with the tremors that are still running through my body. When I look at the screen, I’m only slightly relieved to see it’s my parents.

I sit up in bed and hit the answer button.

“Hey, guys,” I say as both their faces come into view.

I hope they can’t tell I just woke up in fear.

“Amelia,” my father says, but he sounds annoyed.

“What’s up, Daddy?” I ask him, trying not to look visibly shaken, or hungover, which I am most definitely.

“Your father thinks it’s time you come home,” my mom says, but I can tell she’s answering because my father seems to be annoyed.

“Mom, I—” I begin, but my father cuts me off.

“Amelia, we let you run off to Europe, and even chase this wild dream that you can solve your brother’s disappearance?—”

“Death,” I correct him before he can continue.

“Disappearance,” he corrects me in return. “You are what? A nanny now? You need to pack your things and get home so you can get on with real life…in the real world. Not in some delusional fairy tale where you find your brother’s killer.”

“I’ll come home soon,” I say, trying to soothe his mood.

“No! Now!” he bellows.

“Now, dear, don’t be getting too upset,” my mother soothes him before turning to me. “We’ll give you two more months, but if you don’t have any more proof of your brother’s whereabouts, we will come and get you personally.”

“I’m an adult, Mom, you can’t just—” I begin, but before I can say any more, the call ends.

I draw my knees up to my chest, fighting my emotions, but like it or not…the tears come tumbling down.