Stick Play (Boston Bucks #4)

1. Gina

1

Gina

N HL Summer Break:

I stare at the big man crouched on the floor before me. A man the puck bunnies called Ash-hole—a playful combination of his name, Ash, and alpha-hole. His fellow hockey players, however, call him Mountain because of his size and the fact that he comes from Colorado. But as I stare at him, only one word comes to mind.

“Hot.”

“What?” He lifts his head, and the second his astute, almost translucent blue eyes meet mine, I realize my mistake.

Oh God, did I say that out loud?

Acting quickly to cover my blunder, I wave my hand in front of my face. “It’s so hot in here.” Fortunately, it’s not just my commercial fridge that’s on the fritz today. My air conditioning decided to go on hiatus during Boston’s worst heat wave as well, forcing me to close the café for the day and call in help. Really, it was my friends Dani and Conner who called their friend Ash Wheeler in to help, and can I really consider a broken air conditioner fortunate? Then again, when it helps cover the fact that I’d been staring at and drooling at the world’s hottest hockey player, I guess I can.

Truthfully though, I really need to stop blurting things out—which I only ever seem to do around Ash—and I also really need to stop staring at the hot hunk of man on his knees before me, his mouth right freaking there. If I moved my hips just an inch…

Cut it out, girl!

He turns his attention back to the fridge, and once he gets it working again, I’m sure I’m going to have to climb inside to cool myself down. “I can look at your air conditioning for you too, if you’d like.”

The deep tenor of his voice trickles down the length of my body, strumming certain parts like a fine-tuned instrument. “I don’t want to ask too much of you.”

If I did want to ask too much of him, I wouldn’t waste his talents on my air conditioner. No, I’d ask him to take off his shirt, so I could admire his upper torso as he works. Eventually, probably, definitely most likely, I’d also ask him to take off the rest of his clothes too, so I can climb over his body and… tell him what tool you need.

My lord, what is happening to me?

Actually, I think I know. After Ash arrived with his toolbox, my friends Dani and Conner packed up my daughter Zoe for a fun sleepover at their place, but just before they left, Dani whispered those very playful and naughty words in my ear.

Tell him what tool you need.

Gawd.

“Gina?”

“Yeah.”

“Screw.” He holds his hand out and I stare at it for a moment. I suck in a breath as my mind goes in a direction I really shouldn’t allow it to go, regardless of how much my body likes the visuals involved.

“I need to put the panel back in place,” he explains, his words breaking the strange spell he seems to have over me.

“Screw. Right.” I hold my hand out to present the screw in my palm. Judging by the indentation in my flesh, I must have been squeezing it hard.

Don’t think about hard.

Dammit, I’m thinking about hard…

“Are you okay?” Intense blue eyes narrow in on me. “You seem out of sorts.”

I wave my hand again. “The heat is really getting to me.”

“Maybe you should go take a cold shower.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

He picks up the screw from my palm and the rough pads of his fingers scrape over my soft flesh. I try not to react, I really do. The last thing I want is for this man to know what his presence, his touch does to my body.

I pull my hand back quickly, and shove it behind my back. He eyes me for another second before turning his attention back to the panel and I’m grateful for the reprieve. Honestly, I know what my problem is. I haven’t been with a man in five long years. Sad, I know.

But I can’t be ogling this man like the bunnies who hang around after a game, wanting a piece of him. It’s wrong. He’s a professional hockey player, not some boy toy here in my café for my personal pleasure. Unfortunately.

No. No. No. Not unfortunately.

I’m not interested in anything from Ash and he’s here helping me out because his buddy Conner asked him to. Ash is a good guy like that, always there for his friends when they need him. I’m not really his friend, I’m a friend of a friend, and while I don’t know what that makes me to him, I seriously appreciate him helping.

A niggling bit of guilt crawls into my stomach. Ash is supposed to be on his way to Noah’s resort in Sparrow Springs. It’s Noah’s turn with the cup and he’s planned a big celebration with friends and family. My heart tightens with joy as I recall my luck in meeting Melanie and Brady on the beach last summer. It was the beginning of a great friendship, when I had no friends at all after moving here from California. I love the closeness between the guys and the WAGs. I’m a little bit of an outsider with the WAGs. Not that they ever make me feel that way. It’s simply that I’m not dating or married to one of the players.

“Ash,” I begin, about to tell him to leave it, that he should head to the resort.

“Yeah?” He jumps up to his full height and tears off his T-shirt. He exposes his very big, muscular body as he waits for a response, and I try very hard not to swallow my tongue as I stare at the delicious lumber-snack before me. He shakes his head as he glances around the empty café. “Oh, wait is this not okay?” he asks, obviously misunderstanding my stupefied reaction.

Sure, I’m taken aback, and I’m probably turning a thousand shades of red, but it’s not because he shouldn’t be shirtless in my café. He should be. Oh yes, he really, really should be. “With the café closed, I thought it’d be okay to take this off.” He wipes his brow with his forearm. “It must be a hundred degrees in this kitchen.”

No shoes. No shirt. No service.

Dammit, I really want to service this guy.

Oh Lord.

“I…” Why are words so hard today?

He holds up his damp shirt. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” He makes a move to tug it back on, and I snatch it from him.

“No,” I answer quickly, probably too quickly because now it looks like I want him shirtless, and of course I do. Why wouldn’t I? It’s only like my secret fantasy come true. “I…it’s not that. It’s just…you should go to the party. This is taking longer than it should and I don’t want to keep you from celebrating with friends.”

He shrugs. “We all get a turn with the cup. I’ll have it soon enough.” Once again, I try to form a coherent sentence. He pauses, a haunted look passing over his face. “I’ll leave if you want me to.”

“No,” I say again, once again too quickly, especially when my stupid, traitorous eyes are leisurely strolling down his rock-hard body.

Don’t go there, Gina.

But there’s a small part of me that’s asking why I shouldn’t go there, and that small part might just be centered between my legs. It’s telling me it’s been ages since I’ve been touched, and if I know what I’m getting into with Ash, why shouldn’t I have a good time for once in my life? It’s not like I want a commitment, and with his revolving door, not to mention his no commitment attitude, he’s clearly living his best life with the bunnies.

What could possibly go wrong?

Unlike my ex, a well-known psychiatric doctor who turned out to be something he wasn’t, I know exactly who Ash is, and what to expect from him. A hot, hard time between the sheets, and an adios afterward. His muscles flex as he puts his tools back in the box, and I can’t help but think…

Maybe he could put his tool in my box.

Ohmigod, what is happening to me?

Ash…Ash Wheeler…

That is what’s happening to me.

You know what else is happening? My brain and body are telling me that an Ash-hole is exactly what I need in my life today. As a former nurse, and now single mom, who owns her own café, I go from morning to night doing everything for others.

Why can’t I hand my body over to Ash, let him take control of me. Allowing him to remove all decisions from my brain as he takes what he wants. As he uses and abuses my body in the most delicious ways? Sure, as an Ash-hole, he might be out to take what he wants, but there’s no denying I’m going to get something out of it too.

A buzzing sound reaches my ear, and he pulls the refrigerator doors open and puts his big hand inside. “Starting to cool already.”

“Thank you so much. How much do I owe you?”

He closes the door, and when his intense gaze lands on me again, a burst of heat arcs between us. “You don’t owe me anything.” He glances around and clears his throat. “Where’s your air conditioner?” I’m about to protest, but he moves around me, his arm brushing mine as he steps into the dining area. My body quivers, begging me to seduce him. I’m just not sure how to go about it. “A wall-mounted unit,” he mutters under his breath. “I can fix that.”

“You’re a man of many talents.” He turns my way. Is that a smirk on his face? Is he taking what I said the wrong way…or maybe it’s the right way. Damn, I’m really out of practice with this seduction stuff. His gaze drops and that’s when I realize I’m toying with the top button on my shirt, exposing a bit of cleavage as I open and close it.

He clears his throat again and turns from me. “Why don’t you go cool off in the shower?” With a curt nod, he gestures to the stairs that lead to my upstairs apartment, abruptly dismissing me. “I’ll get this fixed for you and lock up on my way out.”

“Oh, okay.” Jeez, here I just set my mind on seducing this man, and he’s making it clear that he’s here to fix my appliance and a fast hook-up isn’t on the table.

Sex on the table…ooh.

I redo my top button, and with my proverbial tail between my legs, I dart upstairs. I go straight to my shower, needing something to cool my body down. I glance at myself in the mirror and see a streak of grease on my face. Oh, that’s attractive.

I strip and climb into the cool spray. I guess at the end of the day, not having sex with Ash is for the best. In my desperation to be touched I must have been imagining the sexual tension between us.

Honestly, he’s an ash-hole and I’m an asshole magnet. I guess I thought one little hook-up couldn’t hurt. It’s not like anything would develop. Not only do I know better than to fall for a guy like Ash, one who is admired by every woman on the planet and makes those women feel special—much like my ex—I have a daughter to consider. I don’t bring men in and out of her life. Besides, Ash is terrified of her. That brings a laugh to my throat. How can a big guy like Ash be so afraid of a little girl?

I stay under the spray until I’m cool, and then climb out and wrap myself in a big fluffy towel. I work on knotting it as I open the bathroom door, and come face to face, or rather face to chest with the man I’ve been fantasizing about for far too long. My fingers lose all ability to work and my towel drops to the floor.

A loud, tortured groan crawls out of Ash’s throat. “Jesus, Gina.” I’m about to grab the towel. This man made it clear he doesn’t want me, right? But then he takes a step toward me, and just like my air conditioning, my brain goes on hiatus. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

His warm scent curls around me and my body reacts. “Ash…” He stares at me with hungry blue eyes and I go up on my toes, my lips parting as I put my hand on his chest. He hesitates for a second as his muscles tighten under my palm and just when I think I’ve read him wrong again, he puts a hand around my back and roughly tugs me to him.

A little gasp of pleasure catches in my throat as he lowers his head and claims my mouth like a hungry man on a mission to devour everything before him.

Yes, please.

He picks me up and I put my legs around him, kissing him deeply as he heads down the hall. I’m about to tell him the bedroom is the other way, but can’t bear to tear my mouth from his as his tongue explores and tastes the depths of me. God, I want his tongue in so many other places.

He breaks the kiss for a brief second when he reaches the end of the hall, his gaze going to my kitchen. “Hurry,” I whisper, my voice full of need and desperation.

He gives a curt nod, his steps hurried, determined as he walks into my kitchen, and glances at my table.

Table…yes.

My God, I must have done something right in a past life because everything I secretly wanted is happening. Go me.

With the utmost gentleness, which takes me by surprise, he sets me on the hard wooden tabletop, and grips my legs and widens them. He unzips his pants and as I offer myself up to him, I prepare for him to pull his hard cock out and thrust into me, but what he does instead surprises the hell out of me.

“This,” he growls and reaches between my legs to lightly stroke my sex, the rough pad of his thumb doing delicious things to my clit. His eyes briefly close. “I’ve wanted this—you—for so damn long.”

What the heck?

Okay, so I guess I wasn’t imagining the tension between us.

He wets his bottom lip and I nearly orgasm.

“Babe, I’ve been dying to taste you.”

I grip his head and widen my legs even more. “I’ve been dying for that too,” I admit shamelessly, which is so unlike me, and it pulls another groan from his mouth.

He sinks to his knees, wetting both of his lips this time as he goes, and now it’s my turn to moan. His big fingers bite into my thighs, and I actually hope they leave tiny love bruises so I can relive this hook-up tomorrow, next week, well into the new year. Truthfully, this isn’t like me, and I can’t say for sure what it is about him that brings out a different side of me.

His warm breath falls over my sex and a hard quiver goes through me. I grip the table and hang on for what I know is going to be the ride of my life. That first sweet touch of his tongue to my clit sends me skyrocketing to the moon, and I begin to breathe harder. God, why does that feel so good? I know it’s been a long time, but come on, it’s never felt quite this intense before.

His deft tongue slides over my sex, and I grow wetter, wanting more…wanting everything he has to offer—tonight. Just tonight. I close my eyes as he eats at me, takes charge of my pleasure, giving me nothing more to think about than how sexy and delicious this is. But the second he inserts a big thick finger, my eyes spring open.

Oh God, no. I’m going to come. It’s too fast, too soon. I grip his hair, run my fingers through it, and work to hang on. My body, however, has other ideas and as he pushes in deep, delicately rubbing the bundle of nerves inside me as his mouth devours my clit. I let go and ripple around his finger. I bite my bottom lip and pray he doesn’t register my climax. My desperation is nothing short of embarrassing.

His finger slows inside me and it’s then I realize he knows. I wait for him to say something, call me out but he doesn’t. He displays thoughtfulness, sensitivity and simply keeps his finger inside me, allowing me to ride out each glorious pulse. As tremors run through my body, a weird little wave of gratitude curls around my heart.

When my body finally stops spasming, he stands, and there’s a new kind of intensity about him that arouses me all over again. Like a man desperate to be touched, he takes my hand, and puts it on his chest, and I hold it there, loving the feel of his strong heartbeat beneath my palm.

“I’m going to fuck you now, Gina.” He pulls out a condom, and as he tugs his pants to his knees, his eyes lock with mine, checking in with me. That thoughtfulness, sensitivity, once again does something weirdly delightful to my insides. “Tell me you want that.”

“I want that.”

He bites into the foil and quickly sheathes himself. “Even though it’s not a good idea?” he asks.

He’s right. It’s not. At least I know why it’s not a good idea for me. Why it’s not a good idea for him, I’m not sure. Not that I can consider it right now. Not when he’s pressing his crown against my opening and gripping my hips for leverage.

“Ash…”

“Still want it.”

“Tonight, Ash. Us. Just tonight.”

He gives a tight nod, understanding and agreeing with what I’m saying. I move my body and he pushes into me, filling me with his thick cock, and when his crown hits my cervix, my hard tremble practically moves the table across the floor. He stills for a moment, giving me time to get used to the fullness and when I put my arms around him, he tugs me to the edge of the table and begins to properly fuck me. I can only assume it’s properly, as it’s never felt this incredible before. Was I even having sex before Ash?

I hold on for dear life as he slicks in and out of me. His mouth finds mine, and he kisses me hard. I kiss him back with a hunger I’ve never before experienced. He growls deeply as I slide my hands down to cup his ass, and when he in turn slides a hand between our bodies to toy with my clit, I gasp for breath and burst around him.

“Jesus,” he growls, staying deep inside to give my sex something to clench around. I claw at his back as I concentrate on the points of pleasure and when I can breathe again, he presses his forehead to mine and whispers, “You good, babe?”

“Yes.”

He pulls out, only to power in again, and I hold him tight as he chases his own orgasm. I love how uninhibited he is, grunting and growling as he takes what he needs. Giving him full access to my body, I move with him, wanting his orgasm to be as powerful as mine.

“So good,” I murmur and my words must do something to him. He powers in once, twice, and then grabs my hips to hold on as he depletes himself inside me. “Ash.” I cry out his name as my body absorbs his hard pulses. He puts his head on my shoulder, his breath hot on my neck as he curses quietly. I can’t help but smile, loving that he seems to be as wrecked by this as me.

Ash backs up, removes the condom and pulls his pants up. “Stay put,” he commands, and walks back down the hall, his muscular body and tight backside holding all my attention. I take a few deep breaths, never having been so sated in my entire life. He comes back with a damp cloth and the second he steps between my legs to wash me, one word comes to mind.

Ash-hole.

Honestly, he knew what he wanted and took it, but he didn’t cross into alpha-hole territory at all, doing what he wanted without regard as to how his actions affected me. I mean yes, he took charge of my body, which I loved, but he also cherished me with his mouth, his fingers, his cock. He cared about my pleasure, and every fiber in my body reveled in that—maybe a little too much. Maybe Ash Wheeler isn’t an alpha-hole at all—maybe he’s a guy a girl like me could actually fall for.

Then again, I’ve been wrong before.