He’d startled her with his admission. He’d seen it in Hayden’s eyes the moment he confessed to never bringing a woman home, but fortunately that flicker of wariness had faded. Her eyes now glimmered with desire, and he loved that she wasn’t complaining about the way he’d stripped her naked and carried her out to the gazebo.
Christ, she turned him on in the fiercest way. He’d sensed the untamed passion in her the moment they’d met. Experienced it that first night when he’d fucked her on the hallway floor. Reveled in it the night she’d tied him up to her bed and devoured his body.
She was full of surprises, and he couldn’t get enough of her. He loved her sass and her intelligence and her dry humor, the way she challenged him and aroused him and made him feel like more than just a hockey player.
“So what does the fantasy involve?” she asked curiously, resting her hands on her bare hips.
He swept his gaze over every curve of her body, trying to put his needs into words. He had no idea how the fantasy played out, only that his hands tingled with the urge to fondle her full, perky tits and slip between her firm thighs.
The night breeze grew stronger, snaking into the gazebo and making his cock swell and thicken as the warm air caressed it. The wind also succeeded in hardening Hayden’s pretty pink nipples, which now stood up as if demanding his attention.
But instead of reaching out to touch her, he cleared his throat and said, “Lie down on the love seat.”
There was no objection. Her high heels clacked against the floor as she walked over to the small couch and draped herself over the cushions. When she reached for the clasp on her right shoe, he held up his hand.
“Leave them on,” he ordered.
“Why do men always get turned on by a naked woman in high heels?”
“Because it’s fucking hot,” he replied with a roll of his eyes.
“Are you just going to stand there and watch me, or do you plan to join me?”
“Eventually.”
They were the same words they’d spoken to each other the night she’d admitted her bondage kink, only this time he was the one in charge.
He leaned against the railing of the gazebo and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ve gotta give me some incentive, baby.”
“Hmm. Like this kind of incentive?” She slid her hands to her breasts.
His breath hitched when she squeezed the lush mounds with her palms, the motion making her tits look bigger, fuller. With an impish smile, she stroked the underside of each breast, circling her nipples with her fingers and then dragging her thumbs over each hard bud.
He almost fell over backward at the sight of Hayden fondling herself. His mouth was so dry he could barely swallow. He allowed her to play for a bit, then narrowed his eyes and muttered, “Spread your legs.”
She did, and his breath caught in his throat again. From where he stood, he could see every tantalizing inch of her glistening pussy. He wanted to lick those smooth pink folds, shove his tongue inside that sweet paradise and make Hayden scream with pleasure, but he held back. His erection throbbed as he curled his fingers over his shaft.
With slow, lazy strokes to his cock, he gave her a heavy-lidded look and said, “Touch yourself.”
“Sure you don’t want to do that for me?” Her voice came out throaty, so full of unbridled lust he almost came on the spot.
“Humor me.”
“It’s your fantasy.” She grinned and promptly lowered her hand between her legs.
Fuck, this woman was incredible. His eyes nearly popped out of his head as she dragged her index finger down her slick folds.
“That’s it,” he said hoarsely. “Get yourself nice and hot, Hayden.”
She replied with a soft whimper. Her cheeks grew flushed the more she kept stroking herself. The hazy look in her eyes told him she was close, but her fingers continued to avoid the one place he knew would drive her over the edge.
She lifted her hand. “Brody,” she murmured anxiously.
He chuckled. “Uh-uh. You won’t be getting any help from me.”
Agitation flickered in her eyes, but still he remained on the other side of the gazebo. After a moment she gave a strangled groan, and her hand returned between her thighs. She rubbed her clit, her pace quickening, and her palm curled over her pussy.
And then she came.
His hand froze around his dick. He was one dangerous stroke from a release he wasn’t ready for, but for the life of him he couldn’t tear his eyes from the gorgeous woman climaxing in front of him. Arching her back, Hayden cried out, her moans filling the warm night. Any neighbor by an open window could’ve heard her, but she didn’t seem to care, and neither did Brody. He was a professional hockey player; his neighbors probably expected moans of ecstasy to drift out of his house.
He leaned back against the rail and relished every moment, from the contented sighs that slipped out of her throat to the way she’d spread her legs even wider, her heels still strapped to her feet.
When she finally grew still, he crooked his finger at her. Despite the sluggishly sated look in her eyes, she stumbled from the love seat and made her way over to him.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re the sexiest woman on the planet?” he rasped before dropping a kiss on her lips.
She responded with a lethargic smile. The remnants of orgasm he saw flashing across her face only made him harder.
Suddenly impatient, he bent down and grabbed a condom from the pocket of his pants, then smoothed it over his throbbing shaft. Then he gripped her hips with both hands, maneuvered her so her ass was pressed against his hard-on and drove his stiff cock inside her.
She moaned, leaning forward and clutching at the railing with both hands. The move caused her ass to rise, allowing him even better access. He withdrew slowly, rotated his hips the way he knew she liked, then plunged right back to the hilt.
“This is going to be fast,” he warned, his voice sounding gruff and apologetic to his ears. He wanted to make it last for her, but the way his dick kept pulsating, he knew it wouldn’t be long before he toppled over that cliff into oblivion.
“I love everything you do to me. Fast, slow, hard, I don’t care. Just make love to me.”
The whispered reply brought a smile to his lips, but it was the phrase make love that caused his chest to tighten. It was the first time she’d referred to what they were doing as making love, and hearing the words brought a rush of pleasure so great his knees almost buckled.
He suddenly felt the primal need to claim this woman. Quickening his pace, he thrust into her, again and again, until his orgasm slithered down his spine, clutched at his balls, and the world in front of him fragmented in shards of light. He shuddered, palming a sweet breast with one hand while stroking the small of Hayden’s back with the other, wanting to hold on to her for as long as possible. Breathing hard, he wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled her neck, inhaling the scent of her vanilla-and-lavender body lotion.
She gave a breathy sigh and murmured, “Your fantasies are almost as good as mine.”
“Almost as good?” He laughed. “Wait until I tie you up. Then we’ll see who has the hottest fantasy.”
She disentangled herself from his embrace and turned to kiss him. Then she inched toward the entrance of the gazebo. “Think any of your neighbors will see me streaking through the yard?”
“Now you’re self-conscious?”
She offered a rueful look. “I guess you’re right. The whole neighborhood probably heard me, huh?”
“You are kinda loud…”
He bent down and grabbed his pants, pulling them up his hips. Finding his shirt and jacket, he tucked them under his arm and extended his other arm to Hayden. “Shall I walk the unclothed lady to the house?”
“You could at least let me wear your shirt.”
“Nope. I want to experience the splendor of your body during this evening stroll.”
“Screw strolling. I’m running.”
Before he could blink, she bounded down the steps and tore across the yard, her firm ass pale in the moonlight. Laughing, he took off after her, hoping to keep her naked just a little bit longer, but she was already slipping her sweater over her head when he reached the deck.
“Spoilsport,” he grumbled.
She put on her panties and slacks. “You still have to give me a tour of the upstairs,” she reminded him.
“Any room in particular you’d like to see?”
“Definitely one that features a bed. Or a removable showerhead.”
With a grin, he grabbed their wineglasses from the railing and followed her inside. “Do you want more wine?” he offered.
“No, thanks.”
She suddenly went quiet as he placed the glasses in the sink. When he turned to look at her, he saw her expression had grown somber.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She let out a breath. “I was thinking about my dad.”
Brody made a face. “We just had mind-blowing sex and you’re thinking about your dad?”
“It’s just…the wine.” She gestured to the bottle still sitting on the counter. “It made me think about what Sheila told me today. You know, about his drinking…” Her voice trailed, the distress in her eyes unmistakable.
“Are you going to talk to him about it?”
“Yes. No.” She exhaled again. “I don’t want to confront him right now, not when he’s smack in the middle of this scandal.”
“We’re all in the middle of it now. We were told today that the investigation has officially started. Which didn’t exactly help build any morale for tonight’s game.”
Disappointment sliced into him as he remembered tonight’s loss. He’d managed to push it out of his mind while he was fucking Hayden, but now the memory returned. The taste of loss souring his mouth again. The Warriors weren’t moving on to the next round. Their season was over. Done.
But… Fuck, maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. As much as he wanted to hold that Stanley Cup in his hands again—it had been too many seasons since the Warriors had won that damn thing—maybe it was better that the season had ended.
“If we won the championship this year, everyone would wonder if we’d earned it,” he said, the realization bringing a sick feeling to his gut.
Hayden nodded slowly. “They might, yeah.”
“There are too many questions around this season, all the games we played, the ones that might have been rigged. Maybe it’s better not to be moving on in the postseason. Who the fuck knows what this investigation is going to turn up.” He bit his lip. “All the players are being interviewed next week. Mine is scheduled for Monday.”
“What kind of questions will you be asked?”
He shrugged. “They’ll probably ask us what we know about the allegations, try to coax confessions out of us, quiz us about whether we know if another player was involved.”
“Are they going to ask about my dad?”
“I assume so.”
Resting her hands on the counter, she went silent for a moment, her pretty features shadowed by worry. He could tell she was upset by all of this, especially with everything she was learning about her father, and though he had no intention of making her feel worse, he unwittingly did so with his next statement.
“It was pretty much confirmed to me today that your dad fixed those games.”
Her gaze rose to meet his, her mouth forming a startled O. “What? Are you serious?”
He nodded.
“You’re saying you know for sure that he did it?”
Fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have spit it out the way he had. But the confrontation with Wyatt had been eating at him all night, and he’d been hoping to talk it through with Hayden before the league’s investigator interviewed him. He knew he had to tell the truth if asked, but he wanted her advice, wanted her to tell him how to handle the time bomb in his hands without looking like he was betraying his teammates or the team owner.
But he hadn’t realized confiding in Hayden meant confirming her doubts about her father. Up until now she’d only suspected Presley had fixed those games, but with that one sentence he’d turned those suspicions into reality, and the crestfallen look on her face tugged at his insides in the most powerful way.
He wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t know how.
So he kept his distance, releasing a slow breath. “He did it. I’m ninety-nine percent sure of it.”
“Ninety-nine percent,” she repeated. “Then there’s still a chance Dad wasn’t involved.”
“It’s unlikely.”
“But there’s still a chance.”
“Look, I know you want to see the best in your father, but you’re going to need to accept that he’s probably guilty.”
Her eyes widened, the color in her cheeks fading fast. “Are you going to tell the investigator that? You’re going to say my dad is guilty?”
“I don’t know what I’m going to say yet.”
He could see her legs shaking as she walked across the tiled floor toward him. Eyes wild with panic, she touched his arm and tilted her head to look up at him. “You can’t do it, Brody. Please. Don’t turn against my father.”
