Bodychecking
Chapter 2—Slammed Against the Boards
BODYCHECKING (SEATTLE SOCKEYES HOCKEY)
GAME ON IN SEATTLE #8
By Jami Davenport
Copyright © 2016 by Cedrona Enterprises
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This book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
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As the wild child of the family, Bellani Maxwell isn’t interested in settling down. Between a fledgling party crashing business, teaching self-defense at a martial arts studio, and hitting the bar every night, she has her hands full. She doesn’t need the added responsibility or commitment of a relationship.
Hockey star Cedric Pederson has all the puck bunnies he could ever want, but a chance encounter eighteen months ago leaves him with eyes only for the gorgeous, free-spirited Bella. Too bad she isn’t interested in what Cedric has to offer beyond frequent hookups, and he’s grown tired of their on-again, off-again non-relationship. He wants to be all-in or all-out.
When a brutal attack leaves Bella in need of comfort, protection, and healing, the only person she wants is Cedric. But once she’s living in his condo, Bella is confronted with a decision she’s been avoiding—can she finally commit to Cedric, or will she let him go one last time?
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to all my readers who feel as if they’ve lost their power. Don’t give up. You can do this.
A huge thank you to my editing team of Tera Cuskaden, Fedora Chen, and Amy Knupp. I strive to make each book better than the last, and I couldn’t do it without your help.
Women stalked Cedric Pedersen, he never stalked them. He wined them, dined them, and took them to bed. But he never chased them, and he sure as hell didn’t stalk them.
Until recently.
At first he told himself it was pure coincidence he ended up at the same nightclubs, bars, and parties as Bellani Maxwell, but eventually he had to admit his line of thinking was fucking delusional.
It wasn’t until he caught himself driving around downtown Seattle on a rainy December evening, craning his neck for a glimpse of her ratty compact car parked on the street near one of her favorite hangouts, that he had to admit he was hunting her like some crazy-assed, obsessed loser.
Only Cedric wasn’t a crazy-assed, obsessed loser—unless you asked his father. No, he was a good-looking, talented professional hockey player who oozed charm and could get any woman he wanted—except this one. Sure, in the seventeen months he’d known her, they’d hooked up numerous times—forty-seven to be exact, not that he was counting—and each time she’d been the one to walk away, not him. Being the hunter not the hunted had never happened to him before.
Try as hard as he might, he couldn’t understand this thing he had going with Bella. Since the day they’d met, the two of them burned up the sheets, the hood of his sports car, the counter in a women’s bathroom, a picnic table in a park, the team owner’s swimming pool, and the Sockeyes’ locker room to name a few of the highlights. He remembered every one of their hookups in vivid, high-def detail. Another first for him. His encounters blended together into one big blur of naked, sweaty bodies, straining muscles, and satisfied moans. When he was done, he never looked back.
Usually
.
At first Cedric fooled himself into thinking he could walk away, only he kept coming back, and so had Bella at first. Lately she’d been avoiding him, refusing his offers to get horizontal or even for a simple dinner out, as if she were afraid of what they could be together.
Tonight he should be celebrating a hard-won game, but he couldn’t, not when Bella was probably out there somewhere searching for her next hookup, and not when he fully intended to be that hookup.
Sometime during this past summer, he had lost interest in other women. Him, Cedric Pedersen, the player of all hockey players, hadn’t slept with another woman in months. It drove him batshit crazy Bella still played the field, and it drove him even crazier that she’d ruined him for other women. Even though they didn’t have an exclusive relationship—or even a relationship—no other female was doing it for him.
Only Bella
.
Always Bella—the incredibly beautiful and wild middle sister of the talented Maxwell family, whose parents were the two-hit wonders of the To the Max rock group twenty years ago. Inheriting their parents’ musical talent, all four sisters sang, played instruments, and danced like professionals.
With eyes greener than the Douglas firs covering the Cascades and fiery auburn hair to match her fiery temper, Bella had left a string of broken hearts stretching from every corner of King County to Victoria, BC, if reports of her dalliances were to be believed. Cedric was beginning to wonder if he was already one of her casualties.
He’d met her at a Seattle Sockeye team party, and Bella and his dick hit it off immediately. He’d been in hot pursuit ever since. She’d attended the party as a paid party crasher, an up-and-coming boutique business owned and operated by the four Maxwell sisters.
Cedric knew all about the Party Crashers. Throughout their teen years, the sisters were often left to their own devices as their parents chased their elusive big break. One night the sisters crashed a wedding reception in order to get a free meal. The reception had been a dud. No one was dancing or singing karaoke. Having grown up in a musical family, the sisters immediately rectified the situation and transformed a crappy reception into a memorable party. The situation turned into such a win-win, they began crashing parties and receptions for their next meal and were so wildly entertaining no one questioned their presence. At one such party, the mother of the bride caught them stuffing bags with food from the buffet line. Instead of kicking them out, she thanked them profusely for their role in making the reception a success and suggested they charge for their services. A few days later, Izzy was fielding calls from friends and family of the bride and groom. Party Crashers was born, completely by word of mouth and as a way to earn college tuition.
The night they’d met, Cedric had pursued Bella for the sheer novelty of pursuing a woman. Yet, his intentions changed, sneaking up on him like a cat does an unsuspecting chickadee. At some point he wanted more than getting her into bed. He liked to talk to her, laugh with her, dance with her. He flat out enjoyed her spunk, wicked sense of humor, and her don’t-give-a-shit attitude. He even enjoyed her moments of moodiness, finding her mercurial changes fascinating.
All of this deep thinking forced him to admit the truth. He wanted a relationship, and he wanted one with Bella. Cedric had witnessed each of his close buddies succumb to the love of a good woman. At first, he’d felt sorry for the poor bastards, but later he started to feel left out and craving what they had—a partner who had his back, was there for him no matter what, and warmed his bed every night.
When Cedric had broached the subject a time or two in the past month, Bella didn’t appear interested in being exclusive. In fact, she’d laughed at him. He didn’t blame her. His interest in her—or any woman—as a girlfriend shocked the shit out of him too.
And now he’d lowered himself to stalking her, rather than partying with the team or hooking up with a couple of puck bunnies.
He found her faded red Toyota parked on a dark, secluded side street and frowned, pissed at how careless she was about her safety. So what if she taught martial arts and self-defense? That didn’t mean she could overpower a gang or a guy with a weapon. Her overconfidence irritated him, but she was headstrong and stubborn—two things he both loved and wished he could change about her.
Pulling into the closest available spot underneath a streetlight, Cedric hopped out of his Mercedes sports car and locked the door. Multiple clubs and bars had sprung up in this old warehouse area in the past few years, and he’d search until he found her.
He didn’t search long. He discovered Bella sandwiched between two guys on the dance floor, gyrating and grinding against them. She was drunk judging by her red face and bright, unfocused eyes. Bella didn’t do drugs, at least not anymore, so he was pretty sure it was alcohol. Both guys leered at her, their tongues practically hanging out like rabid dogs moving in for the kill.
Crap. Shit. Fuck
.
Cedric’s fingers balled into fists, even as he held himself back. If he instigated a fight, Coach and the team captain, Cooper, would castrate him, and Bella would finish the job if there was anything left to finish. He preferred to keep his dick and balls intact and in working order.
Bella was so fucking hot in her little red dress cut low to reveal ample cleavage. Her long auburn hair cascaded down her back and flooded him with memories of those silky strands caressing his bare chest as they fucked each other senseless, her emerald green eyes holding him hostage.
Cedric was so intent on Bella, he jumped when he felt a hand on his arm. A blonde he faintly recognized in a barely there slinky dress slid up next to him and ran her hand down his chest.
“Cedric the Great.” She grinned at him, using a nickname bestowed on him by puck bunnies during his minor league days.
He nodded but kept his eyes on Bella.
Drooling over Bella had made him hard as a rock. He needed release, and he suspected he wouldn’t be getting it from the hot redhead practically having sex with two guys on the dance floor. Damn, he wanted to pound their faces into the painted concrete floor. Cedric wasn’t a fighter, but he’d make an exception for those two assholes.
