Winger (Seattle Sharks 3)

Prologue

Jeannine

Six Months Ago

The shot of Patron slid down my throat like water, but the buzz in my head told me I’d had three.

“Fuck yes!” I cheered, slamming the glass down on the bar. “Another!”

“I’m with her,” Warren said, clinking his own shot glass against the bar. He sat so close his muscled arm brushed against mine, and my insides purred.

“How’d we get stuck together?” I teased, taking the next round of Patron from the bartender.

“Our friends are all stupid in love with each other.”

I snapped my fingers, nodding. “That’s right.” I threw the shot back, hissing slightly. “I’ve never seen my girls happier.”

“Same for Gage and Rory,” Warren said after he’d taken his own shot. He rubbed at the scruff on his chiseled chin as he scanned the crowd for our friends. He smiled at them across the room, then spun around to face me.

“You next?” I asked, motioning for another shot.

He cocked an eyebrow at me, those dark eyes just a bit glazed from the liquor. “Next for what?”

“Getting hitched?” I chuckled. “Seems like the Sharks are on a hot streak.”

They’d won the Stanley Cup.

Gage and Bailey had an eight-month-old son.

Rory and Paige had a four-month-old baby girl.

Odds were Warren was next, cause it sure as hell wasn’t going to be me.

Warren laughed. “Hell no. The Sharks are on a hot streak because I’m focused on the ice—my career. But we’ll see how this season goes without me.”

“Right!” We were there celebrating his going away since he was taking this season off to play for Canada in the Olympics. He’d worked that out in contract negotiation since the NHL wasn’t pausing the season for the games this round.

“I don’t have time for a relationship, let alone a wife,” he continued, and I nodded.

“That’s how I am with my restaurants. I’ve put in way too much of my time to throw it all away to be someone’s homemaker.” I chuckled, and he handed me my next shot.

“To not getting married.”

We clinked our glasses together and threw the contents back.

My insides were on fire in the best way, my muscles loose. God, I’d needed this night off. I’d have to thank Bailey for that later—the babies were with the Grandmas—and she’d dragged us all out to celebrate Warren’s going away.

I glanced over my shoulder, watching her as she was practically attached to Gage across the room.

Maybe much later. I grinned at her before returning focus to the beast of a man next to me.

Hot damn he was glorious.

Tall, ripped, with slightly shaggy black hair, dark eyes, chiseled features, and cocky to boot.

If I had wanted to roll around with a man more than once, it’d be someone like him. Not that I had gotten a chance to see what Warren Kinley was made of…but now that I was thinking about it, I sort of couldn’t not think about it.

My core purred again, and I wetted my lips.

I hadn’t had sex in months—thanks to being married to my job.

Tonight was my first night off in just as many.

“What about kids?” I asked, wanting to keep him talking. Keep him sitting next to me.

“You’re joking, right?”

I shrugged. “Just because marriage is out of the question doesn’t mean kids are. Look at Gage.” He’d had Lettie before Bailey and him were an item, and she was one of the most amazing little girls I’d ever met.

Warren nodded, motioning for another round of shots.

“Truth,” he said. “Gage somehow can manage both—being an awesome father and a star on the ice. Me? I’m not that multi-talented.” He handed me another shot. “I’d be a shit dad. Always on the road for games. More worried about the ice and the opponents than diaper changes and the Disney Channel.”

I clinked his glass. “It’s nice being on the same page.”

I threw the shot back, my heart fluttering from the buzz and the delicious smell of Warren—crisp, spicy, and a hint of salt. Almost more intoxicating than the tequila.

“No little ones on the brain?” He asked.

“Nope.” I made sure my lips popped on the word, drawing his attention there. I smiled when his eyes trailed back up to my eyes. “I’m content being a surrogate aunt to Ethan, Daphne, and Lettie,” I said. “They easily satisfy any rare moments I contemplate motherhood.”

“You’re pretty damn incredible—you know that?” He asked, leaning forward.

I reached up and boldly touched the scruff on his chin—our nearly year-long flirt fest giving me the confidence to do so.

“Oh, honey, you have no idea,” I said, enjoying the prickly sensation on the pads of my fingers.

“Is that right?” He cocked an eyebrow and damn if my stomach didn’t flip.

“You want to find out?” I let go of his chin, standing up enough to brush my chest against his.

So I was being forward.

So I might be desperate for a good orgasm fest.

At least Warren knew where I stood and I knew his terms, too.

It was simply a bonus he was the hottest Shark on the team, not that I’d ever tell that to Bailey or Paige.

“Fuck yes,” he whispered, mimicking my earlier words to the delicious bottle of Patron.

“Then let’s get out of here,” I said, reaching for his hand and leading the way through the packed crowd. His fingers were strong and warm, in

terlocked between mine as I made my way to the parking lot. The cool breeze shook off some of the alcohol, and I spun around, slipping slightly into his ridiculously muscled chest. “You have a driver like the rest of the Sharks, right?”

He smirked and waved his free hand. A few minutes later, a big black SUV rolled to a stop in front of us.

“Hockey stardom has perks,” I said, stepping into the car as he held the door open for me.

“Oh, honey, you have no idea,” he echoed my earlier words and a warm shiver trailed right down my spine. “Your place or mine?” He asked after he’d buckled his seatbelt.

“Mine is closer,” I said and gave the driver my address.

Warren held my hand the entire ten-minute drive to my apartment. He traced his fingers over the creases, my knuckles, the soft part of my wrist, the trail igniting my blood. He was gentle, teasing, and it made me ache between the thighs. If this innocent touch could get me wet, I couldn’t wait to see what he could do to me once we were inside.

I hurried up the stairs, totally grateful—I was well-practiced in climbing the things in my stilettos. I didn’t slip once.

Gold star for me.

“You in a rush?” He asked, taking his sweet ass time climbing the stairs as I stood there holding my front door open for him.

“We’ve been dancing around each other for over a year,” I said, never one to beat around the bush. “And you’re about to disappear for six months. Can you blame me?” I asked, raking my eyes up and down his gorgeous frame.

The man had his damned suit jacket slung over one shoulder, the white button down underneath tight over his muscles. And that smirk that shaped his lips?

Fuck me.

Yes please.

He stopped within an inch of me, his hand on my hip as he pressed his body to mine, my spine against my door. He traced the edge of my jaw with his nose and inhaled deeply. After my eyes had properly rolled back in my head, he pulled away.

“God, you smell good,” he said before turning into my apartment.

I took two steps inside and locked the door behind me.

Butterflies flapped in my stomach, my breath tight in my lungs as I watched him check out my place.

It took me a minute to figure out why my breath came in short, anxious bursts.

For the first time since before I could remember, I was nervous.

I didn’t get nervous.

I ate men like him for breakfast.

So why am I trembling?

I tossed my purse and keys on my wooden drop station by the door and clicked over to him with shaking knees.

Maybe it was because I knew him.

We were friends—our best friends being married kind of forced it.

This is why I usually stick to strangers. Can’t be nervous when you don’t know the guy.

Warren laid his jacket on my desk that sat across from my giant kitchen—the sole reason I rented this place. The kitchen was almost as good as the one at my restaurant.

Small closet, big stove.

Compromise for perfection.

“Come here,” he said, flicking his fingers at me in a come-hither motion.

Normally I’d fly off at the mouth—make the man come to me—but there was something about

Warren that made me obey.

Something powerful and irresistible.

And after shamelessly flirting for over a year, I was more than ready to see what he could do.

Instead of going straight for my ass like I assumed the beast of a man would, he cupped my face in his hands. Inching his lips downward, he took an eternity to barely brush them over mine.

The man liked the tease, the anticipation.

It made me breathless.

I fingered the back of his black hair, gripping it as he finally crushed his lips on mine.

I moaned into his mouth when his tongue slid over the edges of my teeth. He rubbed and lapped and claimed my mouth with expert flicks and sucks.

Hot damn, I was churning between my thighs from just a kiss.

I pressed back with all I had, hooking my leg around his hip, sighing when I felt the pressure of his rock hard cock through his dress pants. I rolled my hips, needing the pressure, the friction, so badly I hadn’t realized how much.

Note to self: never let it go this long between shags again. You end up dry humping a Shark.

I laughed at my absurdity, and he jerked back.

“What is funny?” There was a mischievous spark in his dark eyes.

“Ohmygod, not you,” I said, realizing how that sounded. “Me. It’s been too long. I really need this.”

He gripped my hips, jerking me harder against him. “Then that makes two of us.”

He kissed me again, hard yet sweet…like the best candy.

If I wasn’t careful I might get hooked on that kiss.

I drew back, my heels clicking against the hardwood as I swished my hips toward my bedroom. I shed a piece of clothing as I went, happy when I glanced behind me to find him doing the same. By the time I stood at the foot of my bed, I was in my stilettos, a purple lace thong, and a matching bralette.

He was in—

“Holy hell,” I said, gasping at the sight of him.

“Don’t act so surprised,” he said, stepping toward me in nothing but a sleek pair of black briefs. He slipped his fingers into my long blonde hair. “Don’t pretend like you and the girls haven’t Googled our calendar shoot.”

I smacked his ass as hard as I could, enjoying the hiss that came from his lips and the flames that flickered in his eyes.

“I knew you were cocky,” I said and glanced at his considerable length beneath the fabric, just because I could. “But I guess I didn’t realize just how much.”

He flicked his tongue over my lips, then moved lower as he palmed my breasts. Every nerve in my body stood at attention, the sensation rippling over my skin like a warm chill.

“No strings,” he said, sucking my hard nipple over the lace. “Right?” He glanced up at me as he kissed his way lower, over my tummy and down…

“Did you already forget our conversation at the bar?” I asked, breathless. “Have you not paid attention to how I behave this whole time our friends have been together?”

“Oh, I’ve paid plenty of attention,” he said. “Trust me, Nine. You’re a hard woman to ignore.” His hot breath washed over the lace covering my center. And my knees about buckled from the sight of this massive man on his knees before me. “Still,” he continued as his stubble teased the inside of my thighs. “I need to know for certain. Our friends are our family. We’re friends, too. So…no strings?” he asked again.

“None,” I hissed, arching as he teased me over the lace. “You know that.”

“Can never be too be sure.” He smiled up at me. “I can’t have you falling in love with me.”

“Not a chance, Warren.” I laughed, scraping my nails over his scalp. “I’m not the falling type.”

He gripped the hem of my lace and tugged it over my thighs until I stepped out of the fabric. His eyes widened, lust churning in the darkness of his eyes as he took in every bare inch of me.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Then you may just be the perfect woman.”

“Hey, now, this works both ways.” I tsked him. “You can’t fall for me, either.”

“I won’t,” he said.

“Promise?” I asked, holding on to his hair.

“Promise,” he said and then slipped his tongue between my thighs.

I arched my head back, thankful he had a good hold of my ass because I was ready to fall backward.

Good God, the Shark knew how to use his tongue.

Not surprising with him being the last active member of the once bad boy trio.

He lapped and sucked and hummed and worked his fingers into the dance too.

“Oh. My. God.” I moaned, that hot livewire down my center yanking taut. “Warren, fuck.”

“Mmm,” he moaned against me, and my stomach

swirled and tightened. “I fucking love your dirty mouth.” He didn’t back away as he spoke and the vibrations made me tremble.

“Mmm,” I copied him. “I fucking love your tongue.”

“God damn, woman.” He slipped two fingers inside me, and I arched into his mouth, needing more of him on me, inside me.

He complied, sucking on my clit as he pumped those fingers until I was a coiled spring ready to burst on his tongue.

“Yes!” I screamed as I shattered, the hot, tight energy spiraling down the center of me in sparkling bursts.

My entire body released one hell of a sigh.

Damn it had been way too long since I’d had one that big.

Hell, I may never have had one that big.

Warren trailed kisses upward, finally towering over me again. He chuckled, flashing me a sexy-as-sin smirk that had no doubt aided him in dropping countless panties.

The bad-boy status only made me want him more—someone to keep up with my practically insatiable appetite.

And for just tonight?

He was mine.

For the next twelve hours.

I flashed him a look that promised I’d put him to work.

He shot me one back that promised he never backed away from a challenge.

Good. We already have the silent communication down.

To be fair, we’d been eye-fucking each other for months. I’m shocked his kiss alone hadn’t made me come.

In one quick swoop, I was on my back, my bed catching my fall.

“Stay,” he said, snapping his fingers as he went in search of something. He came back a few seconds later with a foil packet in his hand.

He slipped off his briefs and went to rip open the packet.