Icing the Puck (New York Empires Book 2) (11 page)

Pounding the couch a few times, he stood, intent on going for another run, but stopped when his cellphone rang.

He pounced on it, answering before checking the caller id. “Hello?”

“Brody?”

“Ann. Jesus, are you OK?” It was such a relief to hear her voice, he actually had to sit again. “How are you? What’s going on? Can I come over?”

He winced. He hadn’t actually meant to ask that just yet, before he even knew what was wrong. But he was desperate to see her and make sure she was well.

“I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch. I’m feeling better now. I think.” Quieter, she said, “I’d like to see you.”

Thank God. “Where, when?”

“My place? Now?”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Sooner if I can move traffic.”

Her laugh was soft and a little strained, but still a laugh. He’d take it.

Because of a car accident on the Brooklyn Bridge, it took Brody ages to reach Ann’s building. Thankfully, his taxi driver knew Brooklyn and, once they were over the bridge, had broken a few laws to get Brody to his destination quicker. He paid the man well, then hurried up to her building’s front door.

By the time she buzzed him in, he was practically jumping out of his skin with desperation to see her. He didn’t even bother with the elevator, just sprinted up the marble stairs to her third floor apartment. He paused long enough to steady his breathing before knocking.

She answered immediately, as if she’d been waiting. “Hi,” she said with a small smile.

She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his entire life. “Hi,” he answered before sweeping her into his arms.

He hugged her close, not sure he could do anything else in that moment, even if he’d wanted to. To his relief, she hugged him back and some of the tension in his gut loosened.

When he could finally relax his grip a little, he leaned back to look her in the face. She wasn’t as pale as the last time he’d seen her, but she did look tired.

He cupped her cheek with one hand, registering the healthy warmth of her skin. “How are you?”

“Better.” She gripped his wrist and rubbed her cheek against his palm. “Come in.”

She led him down a long hall decorated with framed pencil sketches, past two closed doors, and into a long but narrow living room with an open kitchen to the right. One wall was exposed brick, giving the place a very classic New York vibe. The hardwood floor was covered by a huge Persian rug. The furniture was leather and looked expensive. The entertainment center was bigger than anything he would expect her to have, so he assumed it belonged to the colleague she was subletting from. The kitchen was small but neat, with updated appliances. Everything smelled faintly of lemon and strongly of Ann. Being surrounded by her lovely scent made him a little dizzy.

“Nice place,” he commented.

Until that moment, he hadn’t really thought about the fact that he’d never been invited up in the two months they’d been dating. To his own irritation, he found himself wondering what her bedroom looked like and which door it was behind. He shook off the thought.

She glanced around the space and sighed. “I’ll have to give it up in May when my colleague returns from his sabbatical.” She motioned him toward the couch. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Ann, what’s been happening? I’ve been going out of my mind worrying about you.” He took her in his arms again because he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her. “Have you really been sick this whole time? Why weren’t you in a hospital? Were you in a hospital?”

“It’s complicated. Brody, please, let’s sit.”

He didn’t want to sit. What he wanted more than anything else in the world was to pick her up, carry her to bed, and spend the next few hours making love to her. But he knew they had to talk.

When they settled onto the sofa, he pulled her close, keeping his arm around her. He felt wrong not having his hands on her, and since she wasn’t pushing him away, he intended to hold her.

“I’m sorry about the night of the game,” she said quietly, leaning into him. “More sorry that I couldn’t really explain.”

“Ann, are you in trouble? Did my fight trigger some sort of…issue?”

She puffed out a half-laugh that sounded more bitter than amused. “Issue? That’s a good way to put it.” She shifted a little to face him. “I can’t explain everything, but I did have a reaction of sorts.”

“Like an allergy?”

“No, not an allergy.”

“Psychological? Did it trigger some PTSD?”

She frowned. “What? No. Nothing like that. It’s just, I’m not good around that much emotion and violence. I thought I’d be OK. I wanted to be OK. Because if I could handle the game, I could…” She looked down at her lap as she trailed off, not meeting his gaze.

He lifted her chin. “Could what?”

“I could finally invite you here.”

He glanced around the apartment with a little frown. “Am I missing something?”

When he faced her again, she was smiling, just a bit. “Apparently.” Then she leaned into him and kissed him.

The gesture surprised him into stillness for a split second. She opened her lips and pressed closer, and he couldn’t have resisted kissing her if the world was falling apart around them.

He wrapped his arms around her, savoring the much missed flavor of her mouth, the soft pressure of her lips against his, the playful dance of her tongue with his. She tasted so good, so perfect, and he’d missed this so much. He caressed his hands up her spine, and she shivered, pressing her body as tight to his as their position on the couch allowed.

Because he needed her weight on him, he lifted her to straddle his lap, then he ran his hands up into her hair, tunneling his fingers through the soft silk to hold her head as he deepened the kiss. She moaned, and the sound licked along his nerves, driving him a little closer to insanity.

She leaned into him until his head rested on the back of the couch, then wiggled forward, rubbing against his erection. It was his turn to moan. He could barely think anymore, but he knew they both had too much clothing on. And that he wanted a bed for this, not the couch.

He just couldn’t drag his mouth away long enough to ask where the bed was. Dropping his hands to her hips, he squeezed and ground up against her, thrilled when she moved one of his hands to her breast. Oh, yes, he wanted that, too.

Still too much material in the way, though. “Off,” he grunted, tugging at her buttons.

She didn’t bother with the buttons, just pulled the long-sleeved shirt up over her head and dropped it behind her on the floor. Her bra was a pretty deep blue silk that perfectly cupped her extraordinary breasts. He leaned in and licked the valley between her breasts, cupping one and going for the fastener on the back with his other hand. She dropped her head back, holding his head to her chest. When the fastener gave way, he pushed the silk aside to get at her skin, taking her nipple into his mouth for a hard, desperate suck.

Her trembling only encouraged him to take more. He pinched her other nipple hard enough to make her gasp and writhe in his arms.

“You like that?” he murmured into her skin.

“Yes. Harder.”

“Yes.” He barely recognized his own voice, it was so deep and raspy. God, she felt good. He’d known they’d be good together from their first almost kiss, but this…this was perfect. He caressed and sucked, playing with her breasts until she was panting and grinding her hips against his cock. He needed to get their pants off soon or he’d come in his jeans. Not exactly the way he wanted their first time together to end.

“Bed?” he asked.

She wiggled off his lap, took his hand, and hauled him up off the sofa. “This way.”

They stumbled back down the hall as he held her from behind, continuing to knead her breasts. It made getting to the bedroom awkward, but he couldn’t keep his hands off her. She giggled as they tripped into her room, the sound as sexy as anything he’d ever heard.

He only looked around her room enough to locate the neatly made bed in the center. Then he spun her in his arms to face him and kissed her again, dropping one hand to grip her ass while he wrapped his other arm around her waist to hold her upright. She was a lot smaller than he was, but stronger and sturdier than she looked, taking everything he gave her. He loved it.

He backed her to the bed and dropped onto the mattress with her sprawled on top of him. “I love having your weight on me,” he murmured against her mouth.

“I like being here. Finally.” She slipped her hands up under his T-shirt and pushed. “You need to get rid of some clothes, though.”

“Absolutely.” He sat up long enough to strip off his shoes and all his clothes. Most of his concentration was on her, though, as she stood to slip out of her jeans.

For a beat, he forgot to breathe. She was stunning, all soft skin and curves, lush and sexy.

He was still trying to find his voice when she sauntered back to the bed and climbed onto his lap.

“I’ve wanted you like this for a long time, Brody. In my bed, naked and hard.”

“I think my head just exploded.”

She grinned. “So long as nothing else has exploded. Yet.”

“Fuck.”

She laughed, and the sound might as well have been a lap of her tongue up his cock. The thought of her mouth on him was a little too much to take. Especially when he had her heat and wetness pressed so close to his cock. He wasn’t even inside her yet, and he was a stroke away from orgasm.

“You’re killing me,” he groaned and flipped her onto her back. “I need a distraction.”

“A distraction?”

“Yes.” He looked over her body, beautifully sprawled before him. “Ladies first. Just in case.”

“What?”

She looked so adorably confused, he couldn’t resist her. He settled between her legs, bringing his mouth to her core. He met her gaze for an instant, then licked into her. She half sat up, her hand in his hair like she might push him away, but as he found her clit and swirled his tongue around the sensitive bud, she dropped back to the mattress with a gasp.

“You like that?”

“Oh, yes. No one’s ever…”

She trailed off on a moan, but he got the point. And it thrilled him to his bones to know no other man had done this for her. If he had any say in the matter, no other man ever would either. He licked and sucked, savoring her taste and flavor, better than any meal he’d ever eaten. He held her hips, keeping her close as he took her to the very edge. She trembled and writhed until he was sure she was close, so very close.

Then he felt her pulling back, resisting, trying to push him away.

He looked up. “Are you OK?”

“Yes. But I’m… This is too much. I’m going to come.”

“Good.” He grinned. “That’s the point.”

“But…”

He licked her again, giving no mercy, and she stopped resisting. He pushed her, taking her to the edge, letting her hang for a heartbeat, then he pushed her over, holding her as she cried out and bucked against him. He watched the orgasm take her even as he continued to suck and lick, knowing he’d never seen anything so exquisite in his life.

“Beautiful,” he murmured against her damp curls.

She went limp, her eyes closed as she panted. He kissed his way back up her body, then nuzzled her neck as she wrapped her arms around him. Her skin was warm and flushed, and she smelled like vanilla and cinnamon and sex—a perfect combination as far as he was concerned.

“That was what you meant by ‘ladies first’?” she asked, her eyes still closed.

“Of course. What else?”

“No one’s ever said that to me before.”

“You’ve known a lot of stupid men in your time, then?”

She grinned and opened her eyes to look at him. “Apparently.”

He kissed her, holding her close, his own demanding need a nagging beat he held in check because he wanted to hold her more than fuck her in that moment.

That resolve lasted until she pulled a condom out of her side table. Then the need to fuck her overwhelmed his softer urges. He slid into her wet heat, grateful she’d had one orgasm already because he wasn’t sure how long he’d last now. She felt so good, too good, and he couldn’t think anymore.

He did try to make it last, setting a slow, steady, hard rhythm. But she was so tight, so wet, so hot, he just couldn’t hold back. She wrapped her legs around his hips, her fingernails bit into his shoulders, and any attempt at control failed him. He pounded hard until his orgasm ripped from him in a long, breath-stealing moment of bliss, made even better when she cried out his name and her inner muscles pulsed around his cock.

When he could manage it, he sat up enough to cup her face in his hands and study her. Her hair was mussed, her lips swollen and red, her face flushed, her eyes sleepy and sexy. She looked thoroughly loved.

A vision he could spend the rest of his life savoring.

When Brody went to the bathroom to clean up, Ann took a moment to study her hands. There’d been a moment, when he’d been licking her, when she’d been sure her control would slip and everything she’d been working toward would be ruined.

But she hadn’t been able to stop her own out of control desires and instead of fighting, she gave in, letting Brody take her into an orgasm unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Only as she was coming down from the brilliant shattering of her orgasm did she realize she hadn’t lost control of the fire.

Her skin was warm and tingly, but not in that dangerous way. Her body pulsed in pleasant waves of satisfaction. And her hands were cool.

She’d done it!

In more ways than one, she thought with a little giggle.

Brody walked back in and caught her laughing. “What’s funny?”

Nothing about him, that was for sure. He was magnificent naked, all hard, cut muscle and strength. She’d never been particularly enamored of men completely nude. Frankly, penises always looked a little weird and funny to her. But everything about Brody was beautiful to look at, and she enjoyed the sight thoroughly as he rejoined her on the bed.

“You’re still smiling.” He sounded very smug.

She couldn’t really blame him. He’d earned that arrogant assurance. She cupped his cheek in one hand, because she could without hurting him, and kissed him.