Worth The Shot (The Bannister Brothers #2) (5 page)

“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Thinking about that kiss on the plane.” He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “You’re all I’ve thought about all frickin’ day. I’ve thought about kissing you, touching you, that snug little skirt, and filling my hands with your curves. I like you, Addison. You’re smart and sweet and you make me laugh. And you’re sexy as hell. I want you. I want to touch you. To feel you against me. I know it seems sudden. And a little crazy. But it also feels so damn right.”

She blinked, her mind trying to catch up with everything he’d said. She
did
mean something to him. He liked her. And this sure felt like he wanted to start something with her.

This
was
sudden. And more than a little crazy. But so was the time they spent on the plane. So was kissing him.

This felt wrong and right at the same time. They were in a dressing room of a high-end men’s clothing store, for goodness’ sake.

And besides that—there was The Rule. No dating hockey players.

Although this wouldn’t really be considered a
date
. So maybe it didn’t count.

His hand inched up her bare leg, sliding closer to the hem of her skirt, and her whole body sizzled with heat and want. She wanted him, too. Wanted to feel his big hands on her body. Wanted to feel his mouth crushed against hers.

Logic and reason ceased to exist. Impulse and primal need took over. She wanted this man. Needed him.

Screw The Rule.

She dug her fingers into his dark hair and pulled his mouth down on hers, kissing him with fire and pure lust.

His hands slid up her body, caressing her waist, her stomach, cupping her breasts. His fingers fumbled with the tiny buttons of her blouse, but he managed to unbutton each one and peel her shirt open. Her back arched as his head dipped down, kissing the tops of her breasts as he pulled the shirt from her arms and dropped it to the floor.

His fingers slid under the straps of her black lacy bra and skimmed the straps down her arms. Her nipples tightened and puckered with need as he reached behind her and undid the clasp, freeing her breasts as her bra also dropped to the floor.

Clasping her hand, he raised it above her head, pinning her against the wall. Flames of desire shot through her as his other hand cupped her bare breast, squeezing and caressing as he sucked her taut nipple into his mouth.

Squirming against him, she let out a soft moan as he skimmed his lips across her skin, circling her other nipple with his tongue before sucking it between his lips.

He let go of her hand, his fingers skimming down the underside of her arm, tracing a line down the side of her body and over her hips.

Finding the hem of her skirt, he pulled it up, raising the fabric to her waist. His large hands roamed over her butt, and she wished she’d worn sexier underwear than the plain black bikinis. His thumb slid under the elastic band and his hand cupped her cheek, fondling its rounded curve.

This was now more than a little crazy. She was still wearing her heels, back against the door of the dressing room, topless, with her skirt pushed up against her waist. She’d never done anything like this before. Never dreamed of ever doing anything like this.

Yet it was the most impulsive, sexiest, hottest thing she could imagine. She had never felt so wanton and sexy. And she didn’t want it to stop. She wanted more. More of him. More of this.

Her head tilted back against the door, and she wrapped her leg around his.

She held back a moan as his hand slid under her ass—finding the perfect spot—his fingers stroking and rubbing—drawing her to the edge. The edge of desire and need. Then she was falling. Over the edge as the feelings spiraled through her, to her very core, her body trembling with release.

Pressing against the door, she clutched his broad shoulders, letting the feelings wash over her, as she buried her face in his neck. Spent, her body sagged against him, her breath coming in hard gasps.

He held her against him, pulling her skirt down as he softly kissed her shoulder, her neck, her lips.

She clung to him, still in the moment, but could feel reality sneaking in along the fringes of her conscious.

Had it been thirty minutes? She didn’t know. Time stood still as he kissed her, softer now but still with heat and passion. She pulled back and looked up at from under her lashes.

He grinned. “You okay?”

All she could do was nod, a quick bob of her head, as she tried to catch her breath.

“You sure?” He stepped back, leaving her feeling exposed, and she crossed her arms over her bare chest.

“I can’t believe I did that.” She felt dazed, like she was coming out of a dream. A hot-as-hell dream of her and an insanely gorgeous, muscled man making out against a dressing room door.

He reached down, picked up her bra and shirt, and held them out to her.

She quickly pulled them on and straightened her skirt. She glanced up, and caught him watching her.

“You are sexy as hell.” He chuckled, low and a little naughty, then wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his forehead to hers. “I can’t believe that just happened. I have never done anything like that before. But you made me so crazy, I couldn’t help myself. I just wanted to touch you so damn bad.”

“I can’t believe this happened either. I’ve never done anything even close to this. I thought kissing you on the plane was kind of risqué, but nothing compares to what we just did.”

He grinned. “Wanna do it again?”

Her lips curved into a smile. “Yes. I mean, no. I mean, not right now. I think we need to get out of this dressing room, before someone else needs to try something on. Or the tailor comes back and demands another hundred dollars.”

“Best hundred dollars I’ve ever spent.” He laughed then kissed her once more, soft and tender. “But you’re right. Let’s get out of here. All of a sudden, I’m starving. Let’s go find something to eat.”

She peered out the dressing room door. Seeing no one, she smoothed down her skirt and hurried from the room. She gave Bane a wave. “I’ll be waiting for you in the car.”

Heat flamed in her cheeks as she slid into the car seat and shut the door. Holy crud. What had she just done?

In the heat of the moment, it seemed wild and reckless, and amazing. But now it just seemed wild and reckless.

She prayed she could count on the discretion of the store’s employee. Her dad shopped at that store, and she didn’t know how well a hundred-dollar bill would stand up to the loyalty to Steve Cavanaugh.

As she waited for Bane to pay and arrange to have his tux sent over to his hotel, she relived the scene in the dressing room in her mind.

Tendrils of heat curled through her body as she thought about the feel of his hands, his lips. As exciting as it was, she couldn’t believe that she’d just been half-naked and had been pleasured against the back of a dressing room door.

Totally out of character for her—she couldn’t believe she’d done that.

And she couldn’t wait to do it again.

Chapter Three

Bane pulled up to the address Addison had given him for the coach’s house. “House” was putting it mildly. It was closer to a mansion, with white pillars, and a huge circular driveway. Was this where Addison had grown up?

A valet attendant approached his car and he grabbed the bottle of wine from the front seat, then handed over the keys of the rental. Smoothing down the front of his tux, he crossed the driveway and checked his watch. Six fifty-five. Five minutes early.

Hopefully being early to the party tonight would help to combat the coach’s earlier impression of him. Bane was normally very punctual. It was his brother who ran late everywhere he went.

The driveway was full of cars, and he joined the throng of people entering the house. He recognized some players, got a few high fives, and a few angry looks. So maybe not everyone on the team would be excited to have him on board, especially if he or his brother had been in a fight with them recently.

But he hoped most would be glad to have his skills on the ice and appreciate him as a defenseman.

He caught the eye of the coach, who crossed the room to shake his hand, checking his watch in the process. “I see you made it on time.”

Bane had a feeling he had just earned a check mark in the plus column and that the coach had a running tally in his head of all of his players. “Thank you, sir.” He handed the coach the wine. “A gesture of my appreciation for inviting me to the party on late notice.”

The coach took the wine, raising an appreciative eyebrow. Score another check mark on the plus side. “Very nice. Thank you.”

Bane nodded. “My mother would have had my head if I didn’t bring a gift.”

Speaking of mothers, a beautiful older woman in a black dress approached them, her hand outstretched. “You must be Bane. I’m Claire Cavanaugh, Steve’s wife.” She smiled, and he could see where Addison got her grace and beauty.

He took her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. You have a lovely home.”

“Thank you. We’re glad to have you here this evening. Steve tells me you may be joining the team.”

He nodded and smiled. “I’ve got to win over your husband first.”

She offered him another beautiful smile, accompanied by a conspiratory wink. “I think the Blueshirts could use a little of the Bannister Brawler spirit.”

Coach Cavanaugh smiled down at his wife, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Sometimes she forgets I’m the actual coach.”

Bane liked them. He liked their easiness with each other and the way they so obviously cared for each other. Claire was gracious and kind, and he instantly liked her. He could see a lot of Addison in her mom. And the coach seemed tough but fair. Maybe St. Louis wouldn’t be so bad.

Claire rested a hand on his arm. “Please make yourself at home, Bane. There’s plenty of food and drink. Enjoy and help yourself.”

The coach gave him a quick warning before walking off with his wife to greet another guest. “Don’t help yourself to too much drink. Remember what I said in our meeting this morning.”

Oh, he hadn’t forgotten. No booze. No parties. No fighting. No women.

A caterer walked by with a tray full of champagne and he grabbed a glass and took a swig.

He’d already shattered one of the rules today. Might as well go for broke.

Speaking of breaking the rules—where was Addison? He hadn’t seen her yet but hadn’t stopped thinking about her all day. What the hell had happened today in that dressing room?

He’d only wanted to steal a kiss. To get her alone for a few minutes and feel her against him. He’d never planned or expected it to go as far as it did. And now he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Thinking about her. The way her body pressed against him, the way her lips felt on his neck, the sexy sounds she made when he was getting it right.

Dang. Those little sounds almost did him in. She was so damn sexy. And he had it so damn bad.

He liked every single thing about this girl. Well, everything except that she was the coach’s daughter. The coach who had told him to lay off women. Bane had a feeling that Coach Cavanaugh would not consider making out with his daughter an exception to that rule.

But somehow the coach’s warning hadn’t affected him. Which was not good. Not good at all.

His own coach at the Summit was pretty pissed at him, and Bane wasn’t sure if he would take him back. He needed Coach Cavanaugh to support this trade to the Blueshirts. Or he might be out of the league altogether.

He couldn’t let that happen. He loved hockey—lived for the game. His career was literally riding on his ability to control himself, and the final decision of Steve Cavanaugh.

He set the half-full glass of champagne down. He didn’t need to drink at all. He’d rather the coach see him with a soda in his hand. He could easily let drinking alcohol go.

And as far as Addison Cavanaugh was concerned—he needed to let her go, too. As much as he thought he liked her, his career was more important. They could still be friends, sure. But he had to let her go. Stay focused on the game—on his career. He could do this.

A flash of color caught his eye, and he glanced up to see Addison walking down the stairs. She was wearing a snug red dress, simple but elegant, and a killer pair of red high heels. His breath caught in his throat.

She looked around the room—her gaze falling on him—and she smiled. A smile meant just for him.

And that was it.

Game over.

He fell. Hard. Like face-plant, no-turning-back, out-of-control hard. He might as well have ripped his heart from his chest and handed it to her on one of those silver platters that the caterers were carrying around the room. Because it now belonged to her.

His heart was hers.

He stood, frozen in place, overwhelmed by the magnitude of his feelings as she approached him.

Knowing her dad’s warning and too smart to give their relationship away, she stopped a few feet away from him and held out her hand. “Hi, Bane.”

Wait—
relationship
? Since when did this become a relationship?

Since the moment she’d kissed him on the plane and turned his world upside down.

He took her hand, squeezing it gently, running his thumb over her knuckles, and remembered how it felt earlier today when her hand was clutching his back in desire.

Get a grip, dude.

“Hi,” he croaked.

She chuckled. “You all right there, Mr. Bannister?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sorry. You look amazing in that dress, Addie. Seeing you walk down the stairs kind of turned my brain to mush for a minute.”

“What a lovely compliment.” She grinned. “You look pretty great in that tux, too. But your shirt looks odd. I’m used to you wearing at least one drink down the front of it.”

He laughed. He’d rather be wearing her body down the front of his shirt. And her legs wrapped around his waist. “Very funny. But I appreciate the compliment on the tux. I found this great men’s store downtown. For a hundred bucks, you get the most amazing service.”

She shook her head. “Oh, that was bad. You need to work on your jokes.” She gestured across the room. “Come on. I’ll show you around. Introduce you to the team.”

She turned around and his mouth fell open.

Damn
.

Her dress was backless, the folds of the fabric loose and flowing around her waist. Her skin was pale and creamy, and his hands itched to touch her—to slide his fingers inside her dress and along her narrow waist.

She looked over her shoulder and grinned, as if she could read his mind and knew exactly which dirty thoughts were running through his head.

Laughing, she grabbed his hand and pulled him across the room. “Come on.”

They spent the next hour mingling as she introduced him to the Blueshirts players and their significant others. Some of her parents’ friends were at the party also—the influential and upper class of St. Louis—and Addison introduced him to them, as well.

He admired her grace, her casual ease in the formal setting, the way she smoothly transitioned from the upper-class elegance to the more rowdy players on the hockey team. She seemed comfortable with both, laughing and joking, and everyone liked her.

Including him.

He liked her smile, her laugh, her clever wit. And he really liked those damn red high heels. But he’d like them better if they were wrapped around his neck.

Standing alone in the hallway, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I
really
like your dress.” His gaze traveled down the front of her chest, admiring her cleavage and the slightest edge of red lace. The corner of a familiar rectangular object poked out over the top. “Do you always carry your phone in your bra?”

She laughed. “I do when I’m expecting a really important call.” She lowered her voice. “I’m supposed to hear back from the magazine tonight. You remember, about the job. They’ve been in meetings all day, and they’re supposed to call the candidates tonight and let us know who they picked.”

Hmmm. That might just be the break he needed. If she got the job in Denver, then it would be easy to break things off now. Before either of them got in too deep.

Yeah, right. Who was he kidding? He was in so deep, he could barely keep his head above the water.

He smiled down at her. “I’m sure you’ll get it.”

“Fingers crossed.”

Another couple stepped into the hallway, and Addison and Bane wandered back out to mingle with more guests.

He offered to get them some drinks and left her chatting with a couple by the huge stone fireplace. It took him a while to find a waiter who would fill his special order, and when he returned to the fireplace, he saw her talking to a blond guy in a tux.

Douchy McDouche.

Bane’s blood boiled at the sight of the guy, and he wanted to walk up and give Trent Hadley a roundhouse punch to the side of the head. But he didn’t think Addison or her father would appreciate it if he did.

Instead, he took a deep breath, plastered on a smile, and crossed the room to where Trent and Addison stood. “Hey, Kent. How’s it going?”

His possible teammate’s face darkened. “It’s Trent.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. Sorry.” He handed Addison her drink.

She looked at the glass, and a grin covered her face. “Thank you.”

Trent looked at the glass and Addison’s smile, and his expression turned to one of disdain. “Dude, I don’t know what kind of redneck wine drinkers you have in Colorado, but in St. Louis we don’t put
ice
in our wine.”

Addison took a sip of the white wine, the ice cubes floating in the glass, and sighed with satisfaction. “Perfect.”

Bane shrugged at Trent. “I guess some people in St. Louis do.”

Trent scoffed as he looked down his nose at Addison. “Not the bright ones,” he said, not quite under his breath.

Adrenaline pumped through Bane and his hands curled into fists at his side.

Addison must have noticed, because she stepped in front of him. “Hey, there’s someone I wanted you to meet.” She rested her hand on his shoulder and turned him away from Trent.

It was a good thing, because if he had to look into that smug guy’s stupid face for another second, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from landing a punch in his throat.

She pushed him forward, calling over her shoulder, “See you later, Trent.”

They crossed the room, and she led him into the kitchen.

He looked around at the huge, gleaming space. Caterers moved quickly, coming in and out of the room, filling trays with drinks and
hors d'oeuvre
s. “You have someone you want me to meet in here?”

She led him to the back of the kitchen and into a hallway where a flight of stairs led up to the second floor. “Well, it’s not so much someone I want you to meet as something I want to show you.”

Oh.

His adrenaline flamed again, but this time not in anger.

He followed her shapely legs up the stairs and down a carpeted hallway. She opened a door, stepped into a bedroom, waited for him to enter, then shut the door softly behind him.

He looked around the bedroom and guessed it had been hers growing up. The room was large and decorated in dark purples and burgundies. A bulletin board covered in pictures was affixed to the wall above an uncluttered desk. The focal point of the room was a large bed with a purple comforter and a ridiculous amount of throw pillows.

Bane wandered around the room, looking at the mementos that had made up Addison’s life. Pompoms, frayed programs from school dances, pictures of laughing teenage girls. “I take it this was your bedroom.”

“Yes.” She approached him, sliding her hands inside his jacket and around his waist. “And I was
not
allowed to have boys in here.”

He grinned down at her. “Are you now?”

“Nope.” She pulled at his bow tie, sliding it slowly from around his neck, then released each button of his shirt, laying a kiss on his chest after each freed button. “You won’t tell, will you?”