Penalty (Penalty Duet #1) Read online

  "What makes you say that?"

  He shrugs. "Life is hard. Playing defense is harder. The older you get, the more risk of injury every time you step out onto the ice. I told you about my neighbor, right? He was lucky he had enough money to retire on and he did consulting in Edmonton every now and then. But a lot of young guys, they get hurt and that's it. It's over. And many of them aren't smart with their money."

  "Are you smart with your money?" I ask.

  He cocks a brow, the lines in his forehead deepening. "First we discuss our tragic family pasts, then our finances. We really are blowing past all the usual stops."

  "Well this isn't your usual date," I remind him.

  "True," he says. "So then, yes. I try to be smart with my money. I own two properties, one the condo I live in, another one in Edmonton if I ever go back home. Both are investments."

  "Do you still consider it your home? What's left there for you in Edmonton?"

  "It keeps me grounded," he says. "And I do have some friends in the city. Everyone else happens to be here, on the team. When you're in the NHL, you do what you can to hang onto your friends, particularly those that are outside of the game. People like you."

  "So we're friends too?"

  He runs his fingers over his jaw, biting back a smile. "Maybe not friends. I would say friends with benefits but I don't see any benefits yet..."

  I'm not sure if I'm supposed to see that as a challenge or not. "I'm currently benefitting your career," I remind him.

  He nods. "That you are. At least my reputation. The people that came by to enquire about you while you were in the bathroom wouldn't stop talking about that photo. It makes me think we oughta track down the photographer and send him a basket of fruit or something."

  I laugh. "A fruit basket. Do people still do that?"

  "Hell if I know. I know that's not what I'd want to get."

  "And what would you want?"

  His eyes skirt over my cheeks, my nose, my lips. "You wrapped up with a big fucking bow. Totally naked. Nothing else."

  Holy crap. I know I'm blushing wildly, I feel my skin on fire from my head to my toes.

  "I like it when I make you speechless," he tells me, his voice rougher, eyes dancing.

  "Because I finally shut up?" I try and joke but my words are broken apart by my nerves.

  "Believe it or not," he says, leaning forward across the table. "But I like it when you talk. As I said earlier, you keep moving those gorgeous lips of yours and I'm yours. In fact, I might have to kiss you before the food comes. They're making it hard to concentrate on anything else."

  My immediate thought is of the movie Good Will Hunting when Matt Damon kisses Minnie Driver at the start of their date. But then the thought is squeezed out of my head and I'm just a pile of butterflies because he's leaning across the table, his eyes boring into mine and I realize he's totally serious.

  On instinct, I find myself leaning forward, my eyes slowly fluttering closed until he's right there. I feel the heat from his presence, his lips like a beacon until they're pressed against mine.

  It's a sweet kiss. A perfect kiss. His lips are soft and yielding, yet there's a hint of firmness as they push against mine, his tongue gently teasing the rim of my mouth with hot, sweet strokes. It's slow, decadent and teasing. I can feel it rush through my body, settling between my legs and suddenly I need and crave more. All of this, all the time, harder, faster.

  But I remember where we are, just as he seems to do the same. He slowly pulls away before things get inappropriate and my lips are buzzing with electricity. I'm shimmering like champagne.

  Wow. Just...wow.

  "Wow."

  Damn it! I can't believe I said that out loud!

  But as Brayson sits back in his seat he nods. "Wow is one word for it."

  Just then, the waiter appears, carrying our food. It looks amazing but I can barely concentrate on it. Not after that.

  "You said you wanted to kiss me because my mouth was too distracting," I note after the waiter leaves. "I know that the food looks awesome but I think I'm the one distracted now."

  "Yeah, I think that backfired on me," he says, picking up his fork. "At least we gave them a show."

  I look over at the restaurant patrons who are still looking at us from time to time. Some people are putting their phones away, which means that kiss was the perfect tabloid fodder. It's going to appear everywhere.

  "Did you do that for a photo opportunity?" I ask him, not sure how I feel about this.

  "No. That was just an added bonus."

  I give him a faint smile though I'm not sure what to believe. I suppose it shouldn't matter at this point, after all, I'm on this date and in this situation for a reason. I wanted a free meal and a good time and so far I'm getting both of those things. The kiss really was an added bonus.

  And the food! My goodness, I've never had such tasty pasta before. Creamy, rich and brimming with flavors that dance on my tongue. I adore truffle everything and instead of just flavoring, this pasta has the actual grated bits in it. Which probably explains why it cost fifty dollars. But hey, I'm not paying.

  That said, when the food is done and my belly is full, I'm still not completely satisfied. Because that kiss was just the beginning. It had to have been. No one kisses like that and then leaves it. That was an appetizer, the prelude, the aperitif. There was more from where that came from, there has to be.

  "Where to now?" Brayson asks after he pays the bill. Both of us skipped desert. I'm too full and when I asked him if he wanted any, he just gave me a cheeky grin that seemed to signify that I was his desert.

  That said, I don't have a good answer to his question. "I'm easy," I tell him.

  "Is that so," he says. "Just how easy are you?"

  I reach over and smack his shoulder. "Shut up." Though really I should have answered back with some innuendo about how easy I am, you know, to actually speak up with some sort of confidence and lay it out on the table that damn it, I want to get laid tonight.

  But I think he knows this. He watches me for a few beats, taking me in, before he grabs my hand and leads me out of the restaurant to the street.

  We pause just outside the door and look around us. "We can get the car and go anywhere you'd like to go. We could walk down the street and get some drinks somewhere...though I know you have to free your dog at some point before he pisses everywhere, eh?"

  "He's not so bad. I have another hour or so before I have to go home."

  And that seems to settle it. Together we walk down the street until we get close to where the riot was last night. It's all cleaned up now and it's weird to think that all of that stuff happened just 24 hours ago.

  After that Italian restaurant I assume that Brayson is going to take me to some fancy bar but he surprises me. He brings me to a total metal-head dive bar by the bridge.

  "One of my favorite places," he tells me as we step inside the dark bar. "It will get busy later on but for now it's a good place to chill out and get a cheap drink."

  I look around as we both take a seat at the bar. It's not very full but everyone in there is covered in tattoos, girls and guys, and there are a lot of men with beards and denim vests with pins all over them. Not exactly my scene but it seems like fun.

  "Normally I would have avoided this place since the crowd can be a little rough and ready to pick fights with you over nothing. And fuck, did I ever give them something last night. But this isn't much of a hockey crowd, it's early, and you're here."

  "You're making me sound like some sort of secret weapon."

  He laughs, then his face takes on a sobering expression as he leans in closer to me. "Maybe. But you're not quite a secret, are you? Though maybe you should be. I'm showing off to the world who you are and that you belong to me, when you really don't. Someone might snap you up soon after. And then what will I do?"

  With the way he's looking at me, I'm at a loss for words for a moment. He seems so serious, like he actually wants to keep me for h
imself. "I don't know," I manage to say after a few beats. "Go back to the puck bunnies I guess."

  He nods at that and then asks for two beers from the bartender, craft-brewed lagers like the ones in my fridge. He adjusts in his seat to face me, his knees pressing against mine. "Believe it or not," he says. "The puck bunnies get pretty boring after a while."

  "So you aren't denying you're a playboy."

  "I'm not denying anything," he tells me. "I might not like the term playboy though."

  "What about womanizer? Manwhore?"

  He shakes his head. "I'm neither of those things. Girls like me for a million different reasons and none of them are the right ones. And I like to have sex, what can I say? I won't apologize for that but I will say it's not always what it's cracked up to be. Obviously I'm not complaining," he quickly puts in before I can say something. "But it does get repetitive after a while. Lonely, even."

  I purse my lips, studying him. "It seems like you're the type of guy who is way too busy to get lonely."

  "I think we all seem like something we're not," he tells me, handing me my beer as the bartender pushes them over to us. "And I can tell you that busy people are often the loneliest. There's always something tearing you in a million different directions and away from a million different people."

  "Well, let me tell you that I'm not very busy. And I'm lonely as hell." I can't believe those words just came out of my mouth but it's too late now.

  And Brayson just nods. "Then here's to the lonely," he says, raising up his beer.

  I raise up mine and clink the neck against his. "Here's to the lonely."

  The beer is cold and icy as it goes down, seeming to wake me up and invigorate me. I have to say it's really nice to just be able to talk to him about this without fear of judgement. With Brayson, it truly feels like I can be myself, loneliness and all.

  We don't stay at the bar for that long. Just the length of that beer. It's slowly getting more crowded and louder (not to mention smellier) and the more that I'm sitting across from Brayson, the more that I want to be alone with him. Somewhere, anywhere, a place where it's just the two of us. My body is practically begging for it.

  It's his suggestion to leave, so maybe I'm wearing the want and desire on my face. Maybe I'm flirting too much or squirming in my seat. But whatever it is, he picks up on it.

  "Now what?" he asks as we leave the bar and step out into the darkness but the question is moot. The Town Car is already waiting for us. He must have texted his driver when I wasn't looking.

  I stare at Brayson, the sharp planes of his face lit from the side by the street lights and passing traffic.

  "Are we going to my place or yours?" he asks.

  He's forward. But from the softness in his eyes, I get the impression that he's being forward so I don't have to. And I could say no, after all. But that's the last thing I want.

  "I normally wouldn't care," I say, then clear my throat. My words sound all muffled. "But because I have Charlie Dog, I think I better head home. I'd love it if you could join me. I still have all that beer in my fridge."

  There. I said it. I can’t believe it.

  His face lights up. "Normally I would make some smart remark about how I'll be enjoying more than just your beer but you have a pretty sweet collection."

  I give him a nervous grin. "Okay. Home it is!"

  Of course the entire ride back to my place, I'm going over how I left the apartment. I didn't think he'd be coming over after and I didn't have a chance to clean up after Sam. I was in such a rush to get ready – Daisy ran a bit over – that I think I left everything as if a young child had been there. And then add in a woman frantically rushing around her apartment trying to get ready for her first date in for fucking ever and there you have it. It's definitely a disaster zone.

  "I should warn you that the apartment is a total mess," I tell Brayson right after we get dropped off.

  "Babe, I'm a hockey player. You haven't seen mess until you've seen our locker room. Besides, if things go right, we'll make it a whole lot messier."

  Holy Hannah. I know we've been trading innuendo all night but now that we're heading inside my building, everything is changing. The air around us is growing thicker, heavier, and I find myself being pulled to him. Every step we take, every glance, and it's all so loaded.

  I'm totally sweating. My palms, the backs of my hands. My body is hot and flushed, my heart picking up the speed as time ticks on. By the time we get into the elevator and are in a tight space together, alone, away from prying eyes, I'm almost combusting. The apartment is on the fourth floor and with every beep of the passing floors, I feel like I might just melt into a damn puddle.

  And then we lurch to a stop.

  Brayson has reached out and hit the emergency stop button with the heel of his palm.

  I swallow, my throat feeling thick. "What's wrong?" I ask but my words are quickly swallowed up by Brayson's lips against mine.

  He literally steals my breath away as I am brought into a soul-searing kiss I can feel in my toes that curl in response.

  I can barely react. I'm so shocked that I stand there, my mouth open, my lips and tongue trying to respond to his. But he doesn't care, doesn't notice. He's in charge and I'm letting him lead.

  His hands are at the small of my waist, running down over my ass – squeezing – running up over my sides. Over my breasts, into my hair. He makes a fist around my ponytail and tugs it lightly until I'm moaning into his mouth.

  "I've never wanted anyone, anything, more than I want you," he murmurs against my mouth, breaking away. "Right here." His lips go to my neck. "Right now."

  I make some sort of mumble in agreement, vaguely aware that he's propositioning to fuck me right in this elevator. Normal Brandy would protest and say no but I'm not normal Brandy right now. I'm new Brandy, daring Brandy. Horny as fucking hell Brandy. And I'm going to take him any way he's going to give himself.

  He pulls back, glancing at me through lustful eyes, his lids heavy. “I like this look on you,” he murmurs, running his thumb over my chin before pulling my ponytail loose, my hair falling over my shoulders.

  I swallow. It feels like I’ve got sawdust in my mouth. I can barely catch my breath. “What look?”

  “This one. The wild one. The real you.”

  He cups my face, his thumb gently brushing over my lips which are still wet and soft from his kiss. I lean back against the walls of the elevator.

  “You want me wild?” I ask him, placing my hand behind his neck. I pull his head down to me and kiss him sweetly on the lips. Soft, tentative, teasing, only hinting at the wildness underneath my skin.

  “And then I’ll do this,” I run my other hand over the front of his jeans, marveling with a gasp at how hard he is already, impressed that I’m being so damn forward. I get a firm hold, give his dick a light squeeze.

  He lets out a moan that I feel to my toes. It makes me wet.

  “Go on,” he says thickly, his eyes closing.

  I unbuckle his jeans and pull them down to his hips, then pull back the waistband of his briefs and slip my hand inside until it covers his cock. He feels like hard, rigid velvet and I’m practically drooling.

  Damn, damn, damn!

  This is so unlike me but…

  There’s nothing I want more than for him to be inside of me.

  Right here.

  Right now.

  Elevator or not.

  He moves without asking, knowing exactly what to give. His hands go to the waistband of my jeans and he quickly unzips them. I waste no time in shimmying them down my legs until they’re bunched at my ankles and I’m standing half-naked in my thong, my big thighs on display.

  He licks his lips as he takes it all in, as if I’m about to satisfy his hunger. “The thong too,” he says but before I can roll it down, he does so, slowly bringing it down over my thighs, his tongue licking the path behind it.

  Holy moly.

  My legs are already shaking.

 
; When I’ve stepped out of my thong and jeans, Brayson then grabs hold of my waist and, as if I only weigh ten pounds, lifts me up and back until my spine is flush against the wall. The elevator shakes. I wrap my legs around his waist, holding him to me.

  “God you’re gorgeous,” he says huskily, his hands at my hips. “As much as I want to push inside you like this…can you reach into my back pocket?”

  I reach over into the back pocket of his jeans, my fingers sliding over a condom. I take it out and do the honors, quickly tearing it and unrolling the latex over his inflexible length while his mouth covers mine, his tongue searching. His cock is there, the tip pressing gently against my sweet spot and when I shift slightly, it slides inside me with ease.

  Fuck.

  This is bliss.

  My whole body is both tense at the feeling of his hard cock about to sink in deeper and my legs wanting to open wider, wider, wider.

  He lets out a jagged breath, his mouth going to my ear and taking my earlobe between his teeth. He slowly pushes his cock in and fills me as I stretch around his thickness. I never imagined I could feel so full as I do right now, this feeling of being totally and completely whole. I moan lightly, feeling him everywhere inside me. My entire body is coming alive.

  I’ve needed this so badly it nearly makes me cry.

  His hips curl forward and he starts pumping into me, my back rubbing against the wall.

  “Are you okay?” he whispers. “God, you feel so good. So good.”

  “As long as you don’t stop,” I tell him, my hands making a fist in his hair. “I need more of you.”

  He groans. “Oh, when you fucking talk like that…”

  The pace picks up. The rhythm starts to become punishing.

  He’s so hard, driving into a place so soft. Every muscle in me is tense to the point of shaking and each thrust undoes another livewire inside me. All my emotions are swirling around, my bitterness and loneliness and he’s masking them. All I want is him, this. It feels so good.

  So. Good.

  My body is hypersensitive, hot, crazed. He stares at me so intently that I can feel his eyes in my darkest parts. He’s telling me we can heal each other.