Offside (23 page)

“I can’t handle it.”

“You can. What choice do you have?”
Honey smiled, even though it was heart-wrenching. “Keep her locked
up until she’s an adult?”

“Until she’s thirty.”

They both smiled.

“I need a drink,” Farrah said. “Have a
glass of wine with me while I calm down.”

“Sure.” Honey wondered how the hockey
game was going, but for the moment this was more important. Also,
she needed that drink too.

*****

“Oh my
god
!” Honey’s back
arched, her head fell back, and she reached behind her for Matt’s
thighs. Flat on his back in the bed beneath her, Matt powered his
hips up into her and his thumb circled over her clit. She cried out
again as sensation whipped through her, his enormous cock thrusting
up into her, so deep, igniting every nerve ending inside her. Fire
spread through her body and her womb tightened.

“Fuck yeah,” Matt growled. “Ride me,
babe.”

Her breasts bounced with each impact
of their bodies and he lifted one hand and covered one soft globe.
She looked at him, his face taut, his eyes narrowed and intense as
he watched her.

“Feels so good,” she whimpered.
“So…so…good…”

“Yeah.”

The tightening inside her wound up
higher and she let out a long groan as she reached for it, wanting
that ultimate peak…and there it was, oh
yeah
… She cried out
as she came in long ripples of exquisite pleasure, one of Matt’s
hands between her legs, the other cupping her breast. She gave a
few more small whimpers.

“Pussy squeezing me,” he muttered.
“Fuck, that’s good.”

Then he rolled up to sitting, grabbed
her hips, and in a fast movement swung her onto her back and
beneath him. God, he was so strong. She loved it.

He entered her again, on his knees
between her thighs, driving into her still quivering pussy with
hard strokes. Hands at her knees, he lifted her legs and again
stared down at her with hot intensity as he fucked her, hard. She
stared back at him, her body jerking with every lunge. She hadn’t
finished coming and the continued pressure inside her prolonged the
ecstasy, a burning sensation moving over her clit, her limbs
weak.

“This is called…taking the body hard,”
he said through a tight jaw.

A bubble of laughter rose in her
despite her enervation from an amazing orgasm.”I’ll say,” she
gasped. Their eyes met and held and then he groaned himself, his
head tipping back, and he held himself deep inside her, all
throbbing heat and pressure. His fingers might be leaving bruises
on her legs where he held her, but she loved how into it he was,
how she made him lose his mind like that.

“Christ, Honey.” He fell over her,
taking most of his weight on his elbows, but still his big body was
a delicious pressure on her. He buried his face in the side of her
neck, his breathing rough. “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever had, honest to
fuck.”

She wrapped her arms around him, hands
smoothing up and down his damp flesh, and kissed the big shoulder
that was right at her mouth, a long, slow, open-mouthed kiss. She
closed her eyes as emotions churned up inside her.

“Missed you, Honey,” he murmured into
the side of her neck.

She pressed her lips to his shoulder
again then whispered, “Missed you too.”

They stayed like that for a long time,
their bodies slowly recovering, heart rate slowing, respiration
evening, and then he rolled off her, withdrawing from her body in a
long slide. “Be right back.”

He disappeared to her bathroom for a
few moments. While he was gone, she slipped beneath the comforter
on her bed, and when he returned he joined her there, reaching for
her, tucking her up against him. As she lifted her leg to his hip,
he flinched and made a rough noise.

“What?”

Their eyes met in the dim room. “Took
a hard check into the boards last night,” he said. “Little
sore.”

“Oh no. Where?” She ran her palm over
his hip.

“Yeah. There.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, trainers checked me out after.
I’m fine.”

“Did you ice it?”

“Yeah.”

“Ibuprofen?”

“Don’t like drugs.”

“Uh-huh.” She was used to the tough
guy act from her dad and brothers. “I didn’t see it.” Maybe that
was just as well. “I missed most of the game. I started watching it
and then we had a little crisis.”

“Who did? What happened?”

She told him about Mia’s brief
disappearance and the moments of panic.

“Babe,” he murmured, running his hand
down her shoulder and arm. “You love that kid, don’t
you.”

“No! Don’t be silly. I’ve only known
her, like, a month.”

He smiled. “Yeah.”

“I was worried about her, like anyone
would be.”

“It’s okay to care, Hon.”

She was silent for a moment then said,
“Whatever.”

His body shook a little and she
realized he was laughing. “So you were watching the game, huh? You
seem to be watching a lot of hockey lately.”

“Um. Yeah.”

“Did you watch Tuesday’s
game?”

She didn’t answer immediately. “Um…let
me think…”

“Babe.” He squeezed her.

“I can’t remember what I did Tuesday
night.”

“Right.”

“Okay, okay, I watched.”

“See my goals?”

“Yes.” Once again he’d led the team in
points, with two goals and two assists. “You’re pretty
good.”

His arms banded around her again.
“Pretty good, huh.”

She hitched a shoulder. “You know. For
an NHL guy.”

She felt his laughter again. “At least
I won’t get a big head around you.”

Her mind went straight to the gutter.
And apparently met his there.

“I mean, the other head,” he
qualified. He nudged her with his hips. “Always got a big head for
you.”

She couldn’t help it. She started
giggling. She tried to push away from him, but he wouldn’t let her
go. He lifted her chin so he could get her mouth. And he kissed
her, even though they were both smiling.

After a while they got out of bed and
ordered pizza. Matt had come to her place right after work on
Friday and had barely walked in the door before he had her naked in
her bed. Not that she minded.

After pizza, they snuggled on her
couch and watched another hockey game. This was getting ridiculous.
But again…she didn’t really mind. They
had
to watch, because
it was Winnipeg versus Pittsburgh, and Matt’s brother Jason was
doing the color commentary.

“You’re cheering for the Jets, right?”
she asked.

“Right.” He slid his fingers through
her hair. Mmm. That felt so good. “And so are you.”

She grinned. “I don’t know…I kinda
like Pittsburgh.”

“Bullshit.”

She smiled against his chest. Of
course she was cheering for Winnipeg, his home town.

The Jets soon had a two-nothing lead,
so they were both happy.

“Look at that poke check,” Jason said
on the television, followed moments later by, “They are getting
banged
hard
against the boards.”

“He does that shit on purpose,” Matt
muttered.

She blinked. “What shit?”

“Making everything sound dirty. Banged
against the boards. Poke check.”

“Um… a poke check is pretty common. I
don’t think he made that up.”

He grunted. “It sounds dirty.
Especially when I’ve got a hot chick pressed up against
me.”

They continued to watch, Matt drinking
a beer, her sipping a glass of wine. Then Jason said on TV, “Look
at him get his stick in there,” and Honey dissolved into
giggles.

“Okay, I see what you mean,” she
said.

“He really does do it on purpose. He
told me that.”

She laughed even harder. “He can’t do
it on purpose.”

Matt grinned. “Well, he looks for
every opportunity he has to say something that sounds
dirty.”

“Lots of chirping between the benches
tonight,” Jason said. The camera showed him talking for a moment.
He stood between the two players’ benches at ice level to do his
commentary, another guy up in the press box calling the play by
play. God, he looked like Matt, a little more mature but with the
same boyish grin and charm. He wore a dark suit that fitted his big
body perfectly, with a pale blue shirt and elegant silk tie.
“Things are heating up down here.” And he was proven right soon
when a fight broke out between two players.

Honey turned her face into Matt’s
chest. “I hate fighting.”

He laughed. “Seriously?”

“Of course.”

“So did my mom. Even more so when it
was me and one of my brothers fighting.”

“You fought each other?” She lifted
her head to stare at him in horror.

He shook his head. “No. Well, yeah,
but they were a lot older than me, so we never really played
against each other, other than at the community center. I do
remember Jase and Tag going at it once. Holy fuck, thought my mom
was gonna have a stroke.”

“I cannot imagine having four boys and
watching them play hockey, let alone watching them beat the crap
out of each other.”

He grinned. “Eh. It was fine. She’s
tough.” Then he tipped his head to one side. “I want you to meet
them.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “Meet
who?”

“My family. My parents.”

Her insides squeezed painfully. Holy
crapping ducks. “Uh…”

“My family’s great,” he said quietly.
“No offense, but you were right…your family’s fucked up. Saw that
last weekend.”

Her brain went into spin cycle. She
didn’t know what to say. Why did he keep doing this to her,
throwing her way off balance?

“My family’s awesome,” he continued,
oblivious to her emotional instability. “Although there were
probably lots of times I didn’t fully appreciate that.”

“Well. Maybe I’ll get to meet them
some time.”

“Count on it.”

A strange wistful longing rose inside
her. Damn. She wanted to meet his family. She wanted to see him
with his parents and his brothers. She wanted to be a part of
something like that. She always had. As a kid she’d dreamed about
warmth and laughter and hugs and happiness. Unconditional
love.

One of the Jets got a breakaway,
racing to the Pittsburgh net, took the shot, and the puck went
right into the pads of the goalie, who made a great save.
“
Look
at that,” Jason cried. “Daneck was wide open up top.
Marchant just couldn’t get it up.”

And she and Matt both burst out
laughing.

“Don’t know about Marchant,” Matt
said, leaning forward to set his beer on the coffee table. “But
I
can get it up.”

Honey smiled at him. “Oh, I know you
can.”

“Maybe you need a poke
check.”

“Maybe I do.”

As the second period came to an end,
Jason on TV asked the question, “Can the Colts come from behind and
win this game?”

“Intermission,” Matt said, lifting her
away from him and standing. He pulled her with him. “
I’m
gonna come from behind.”

“He shoots,” Honey said, smiling, as
she let him lead her into the bedroom. “He scores.”

Chapter Seventeen

As the Condors had a stretch of home
games, Matt was around quite a bit the next week, and they spent
most evenings together when there weren’t games. The first night he
came to pick her up to take her out for dinner, he handed her a
small box. She looked down at it and frowned, then looked back up
at him. “A cell phone?”

“Yeah. For Mia.”

Her heart swelled alarmingly as she
gazed up at him, and then her eyes stung in the corners.

“I paid for a two-year contract,” he
said. “Nothing extravagant, but it should be what they need. Uh…did
she already get a phone?” he asked.

She blinked rapidly and shook her
head. “I don’t think so.” She swallowed through a throat gone
suddenly tight. “I’ll give this to her later. I think Farrah’s
working tonight.”

Mia was ecstatic. Farrah protested,
but Honey convinced her to take it, knowing for Matt it was really
no big deal. Except…it was.

Matt’s next game was Saturday
afternoon. Friday he again took her out for dinner, this time to an
Irish pub near his apartment where, dressed in jeans and T-shirts,
they sat in a back corner booth and drank Guinness and ate fish and
chips.

“You know this isn’t bad, for beer,”
she said, lifting the glass of dark brew.

Matt said nothing.

“So, tomorrow you play New York,” she
said, making conversation.