FORCE: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (14 page)

I nodded, clapping in glee. “Brad’s your best friend, Olivia is my best friend—oh my gosh, I feel like I’ve just hit the fairy godmother-level status of matchmaking. This is like, the pinnacle of my achievements!”

I grabbed Ian’s hand and dragged him over to where Brad was still standing nervously. “Brad, we’ve got your date!” I crowed.

He blinked at me. “Somebody bid on me?” he asked, his voice tight.

I smiled and grabbed his hand. “Somebody paid a lot of fucking money for you, my dear boy. Let me introduce you to her. See that woman standing over there?”

His mouth fell open. “
Her
? She wants a date with
me
?” He chewed the inside of his lip, then suddenly blinked. “This is only just for fun, right?” Brad asked, his eyes darting over to where Olivia stood. “It’s not supposed to be a real date, right?”

He looked incredibly nervous, and I could see why. Olivia was staring at him with a distinctly predatory look in her eyes.

“It is whatever you want to be,” I reassured him.

He stole a look over at Olivia again. “Seriously? She was the highest bidder? She’s a fucking knockout.”

“You sound relieved.”

“Oh, he is,” Ian interjected, snaking his hands around my waist and whispering in my ear. “He thought no one was going to bid on him at all.”

“You are absolutely sure?” Brad asked again. “You’re not fucking with me?”

I motioned Olivia to come over. She sidled up to Brad’s side and smiled at him over her drink. Then she licked her lips.

I rolled my eyes. “This is Bradley Scott,” I told her. “Your date.”

My best friend was in her glory. She cocked her head and arched her eyebrows, and I swear she pitched her voice lower as she spoke. “So, I was watching you up there onstage, Bradley. You were fiddling with your phone a lot,” she purred. “Were you texting your girlfriend?”

“Uh, I don’t have a girlfriend,” Brad stammered.

Olivia immediately stuck her hand out and grabbed his, pumping it up and down. “Then I’m Olivia,” she cooed.

Brad was practically drooling.

“Nice one,” I murmured to her.

She tossed her head. “You like, Candygram? Well, watch this,” she instructed me.

She reached out, quick as a snake, and snatched Brad’s phone from his hand. He stared at her openmouthed as she deftly dropped it into her cleavage.

“I don’t want you losing this,” she said. “So we’ll just keep that here for safekeeping. If you want it, just reach in and grab it.”

Brad’s look of shock dissolved into a look of pure, unadulterated admiration, mixed with a healthy dose of horniness.

“I think
Cupid’s Arrow Dating Service
has made their first match of the night,” I told Ian.

He was watching his friend with a look of frank astonishment. “He’s got
no
game, and she’s
all
game.” He turned back to me. “What were we saying about opposites attracting?”

I was about to answer him, but he punctuated his question with a very long, very public, and
very
inappropriate kiss.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Ian

I lifted my pint in Brad’s direction, but he was too busy gazing at Candace’s friend, Olivia. She was all over him like an octopus, and he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Olivia looks pretty pleased,” Candace smiled, watching her friend shove her hand in Brad’s back pocket. “Aaaand, right about now is when we turn away to preserve their modesty, Ian,” she barked, forcibly spinning me away from the public spectacle that was unfolding.

“They’re giving me a few ideas,” I grinned at her, pulling her close. “Feel that? That’s for you.” Candace was bright and smiling, flush with triumph. She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me in for an even more enthusiastic kiss.

I felt ripple of excitement go through my body, and settle directly down in my groin. Things between us had been so strained and stressed the past few weeks. It seemed like every night I had free, she had to work late, and every night she was available, I had a game.

But now, with the launch finally behind her—and a rousing success, by the look at of it—maybe she and I could go back to the way we were.

I was about to whisper that very thought into her ear when the world’s most irritating voice piped up.

“Hey Carter! Yo, Scott! How much did you assholes sell for?” Jake sneered, swaggering up to us with his chest all puffed out.

Brad barely gave him a glance. “I have no idea,” he mumbled. His eyes were fixed on Olivia, who had her hands down…
Oh my God, I did not need to see that.

Jake turned his head quickly away, cheeks reddening. “What about you, Carter?” he blustered. “Some chick bid almost ten grand for a date with me,” he boasted. “I was just wondering what kind of price an old fart like you could fetch.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing in his face. “I wasn’t up for auction, Jake,” I said, barely suppressing my laughter.

He blinked, and his puffed out chest caved in a little. His face reddened to an almost purple color. He looked like he was about to explode. “You didn’t go on the block?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Nope!” I grinned, reaching out and pulling Candace to me. “I already scored a million-dollar date, right here. Wasn’t worth it.”

Candace smiled an adoring smile in my direction, and I pulled her closer to me. All I had to do was get rid of this irritating distraction, and I could take her home and…

“Ha, it’s just as I figured.” Jake interrupted, looking at me, and then at Candace, and finally shoving his hands into his pockets. “You’re a total pussy.” It sounded like he was trying to tell a joke and failing.

“If you say so,” I grinned at him. “But you’d better run along, huh? Some poor lady paid ten thousand dollars for you. Better make sure you’re worth it.”

Jake opened, but then closed his mouth. “Oh, I’m worth that and more, Carter. Unlike some people on this team, I’m actually worth what people pay for me.”

I smirked. “Sure, Jake. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Jake stomped off. The minute he was out of sight, Candace leaned in. “I think he wanted to see how much you and Brad went for,” she mused.

“Whatever. Jake is always trying to get me to whip my dick out and compare sizes.” I kissed her forehead as she laughed. “The guy is not worth my time.”

She smacked my chest, and looked over her shoulder. “Oh my God, you are the loudest person I have ever met. He’s right over there, keep your voice down.”

I was about to say something filthy, even louder, when we heard another voice call over the crowd. “Candace?”

“That sounds like my sister!” Candy exclaimed. “Yeah, Donna?” she answered, twining her fingers with mine. I allowed her to pull me towards her sister. As we moved through the crowd, I caught a glimpse of Jake, standing and staring at us, completely ignoring the disappointed-looking woman on his arm.

He looked pissed. In fact, he looked downright murderous.

Had he heard me?
For a second, I felt bad. But honestly, the guy was a complete pain in my ass.
Sure, hearing me talk shit to my girlfriend about him wasn’t the nicest way for him to find out what I thought of him, but better to hear it eventually, right?

Maybe now he’d finally leave me and Brad alone.

Candace’s sister was staring out over the crowd, a worried expression on her face. “Donna? We’re heading out,” Candace announced, squeezing my hand on the sly.

“Have you seen Tim?” Donna asked, ignoring Candace’s goodbye completely.

My sweet, nice girl immediately dropped my hand…much to my chagrin. “No, I haven’t. What’s going on?”

“He’s been gone for like twenty minutes.” Donna complained, twisting her engagement ring around her finger. “I wanted to get going, but we came together, and…”

“We’ll help you look,” Candace volunteered immediately. She looked back at me. “Right, Ian?”

My cock, which had been standing at rigid attention in anticipation of the evening ahead, slumped down at the same time as my shoulders. “Yeah. Sure,” I relented.

“That’s so nice, thank you!” Donna said automatically.

Fucking
nice.
It was going to be the death of me.

“Where
haven’t
you looked?” I asked Donna. “Is he outside, maybe?”

“I looked there already.”

“I’ll go check again—maybe he was bringing around the car for you,” Candace volunteered. I smiled at her.
This girl.
Not only was she putting the best face on things for her sister, but she was also volunteering to go out into the cold for her sake.

“I’ll look in the men’s room,” I offered. “I guess you probably didn’t check in there.”

“No, I didn’t. Maybe he got sick from the food!” Donna said, brightening. “Oh, the poor guy.”

Candace beamed at me. “Thanks, honey.”

I nodded and headed across the floor. If Tim really was locked in the men’s room, shitting his brains out, the last person he was going to want finding him was Ian Carter. I tried to put myself in his shoes, getting caught with my pants down by one of my celebrity idols. Gordie Howe walking in on me squatting?
I’d rather die
.

So I knocked first. “Tim?” I called. “Are you in there?”

There was a squeak, and then some frantic panting. I pushed the door a little wider and looked in. “It’s fine, dude, Donna’s just looking for you, I’ll tell her—”

Tim yanked his pants up from where they were pooled around his ankles.

I had definitely caught him with his pants down.

“Ian Carter!” the redhead kneeling on the floor in front of Tim squealed. “I’m your biggest fan!”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Candace

“Thank you for finding Tim,” I ventured. Ian had been quiet, brooding, and almost…sulking, ever since he found my sister’s fiancé. He didn’t answer me, though, only stared daggers at the streetlight.

“I hope no one else gets sick, too,” I fretted. Food poisoning from the catering was the problem, Tim had explained, once he returned to the bar to find a relieved Donna waiting for him. I had immediately started quizzing him on what it was exactly he ate, but his answers were vague, at best. I figured he must have been embarrassed and laid off the questions, but that didn’t stop me from gnawing away at my nails the whole way home.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Ian said, slamming the heel of his hand into the steering wheel.

I looked up and sighed. A bank of photographers were waiting for us outside of Ian’s building. The number of paparazzi seemed to be growing exponentially the closer we got to the playoffs.

“It’s just paparazzi,” I said soothingly. “Just ignore them, like you always do.”

“Fucking leeches,” he growled, staring at the flashing cameras with murder in his eyes.

“What’s gotten into you?” I wondered.

“Nothing,” he said sullenly. “I’m just thinking. That’s all.”

I slid my hand into his lap. “Can I maybe get you to start thinking about something else?”

He looked up at me and blinked, then a slow, crooked smile slid over his face, and I knew he was finally thinking what I was thinking.

Playoffs were in three weeks. So much was riding on his shoulders. His whole team was depending on him. The papers had been nothing but wall-to-wall coverage of his life: his training, his background, the story of how hockey had turned him around in life.

I couldn’t imagine the pressure he was under right now. “What do you want me to do?” I asked him as we rode the elevator up to his floor.

He smiled that crooked smile again. “I want what you want,” he murmured.

“I want—” I paused and licked my lips as the door dinged open and we emerged into the hallway in front of his door. “I want to tell you what I’m going to do.”

He jammed his key in and threw the door open, then turned and swept my legs out from under me to cradle me in his arms. “I want to hear it,” he growled into my neck as he strode across the now bare living room floor and into the bedroom.

“Oh!” I exclaimed as I landed on the bed. Then I sat up and glowered at him as he tore his shirt over his head. “You’re not listening.” I complained.

Then I reached out and closed my fist around his balls and squeezed a little.

His eyes went wide. “I’m listening now,” he exhaled.

“What I want,” I said, wetting my lips, “is to see how hard you’ve been training, Mr. Carter. Time to test your strength.” I began lazily stroking him.

“Um,” his eyes rolled back. “What’s the test?”