Wheeler (Seattle Sharks 8)

My eyes rolled back in my head at the feel of him inside me—all of him, nothing separating us. He growled against my neck, drawing himself all the way back out only to slide in again and again and again.

“Faith,” he said, his breath mingling with mine as I sought his lips.

“Lukas,” I said. ”Lukas.” Each stroke pushed me farther over the edge, each brilliant scrape of his hard warmth rocked me until I had to wrap my arms around his neck and hold on tight.

The strength of him, his scent, those rough breaths as I moved on him, with him…they undid me. Made me liquid and solid at the same time. Made me pant with pleasure as everything inside me spiraled and tightened until I thought I’d combust.

And when he thrust harder, faster, I lost any control I may have gathered and threw my head back, my mouth open with a scream I knew I couldn’t contain.

But his lips covered mine, and he drank my moans as I flew apart, as he stroked another orgasm from my body. He shuttered against me, his growl filling my mouth as he found his release inside me.

He continued to hold me, his forehead pressed against mine as we caught our breath. After a few moments, he was on his knees again, helping me slip my leg back into my legging, planting kisses over my skin as he helped me pull the fabric up.

For a few moments, we simply stared at each other, before he laughed.

My eyes widened. “What is funny?”

He scooped me into his arms, holding me close. “I’ve never had so much fun on a tour before.”

I snorted as he led us through the cathedral, my cheeks heating as we passed the guards who still stoically watched the entrance. And even though it shouldn’t matter, I was glad to have that piece of Lukas. To have something of his…something he’d never done with another woman before. Because it made me feel special, unique, like perhaps there was hope for us, yet.

However foolish that hope may be.

Chapter 13

Lukas

“Looking a little pale there, Vestergaard,” Porter teased as we headed off the ice. “Did I hit you too hard?”

“Fuck off.” I shook my head quickly, sweat flying. He hadn’t done any damage, but that hit had hurt.

“Are you okay?” Axel asked. He’d come back with us to visit for the week, and I’d jumped at the chance to invite him to a pick-up game. I missed the asshole.

“I’m fine,” I assured him as Langley and Pepper stepped out of Pepper’s office.

“Seriously though,” Porter asked, all teasing gone. “What happened out there? You never let me get you into that position.”

About a dozen of us made our way down the hall to the locker room.

“Ice is bigger in Sweden,” I answered. “Just have to mentally adjust back to US rink size.”

“Everything is bigger in Sweden,” Axel answered with a laugh.

“Seriously,” Langley scoffed as we walked by. “What a male thing to say.” Her eyes narrowed at Axel.

He paused, then turned to look down at her. The guy was already fucking huge, but on skates, he was monstrous. “I was referring to my height. If you took it another way, that’s on you, Princess.” His accent was thick, but his tone practically dripped innuendo.

This should be interesting.

Langley craned her neck to look up at him. “Well, if the size of anything else is proportionate to your brain, then we’re looking on the smaller end of the spectrum.”

“Dayyyum,” Connor laughed, slapping Axel on the back as he walked by.

Axel just grinned down at her, completely unfazed. Shit, I’d seen that look on his face a few times since we’d been kids. He was determined, and his sights were on Langley. Langley, who was positively heartbroken and might need a quick rebound fuck, but not with someone like Axel.

She needed someone she could boss around.

“Don’t worry about her, Ax,” Noble called out as he walked by. “She’s still pissed that you had to save her ass from that dancing cage in downtown Stockholm.”

I blinked. “Now that’s a story I haven’t heard.”

Axel sent Noble a look that said it was a story I was never meant to hear.

“And on that note, I’m going to—”

“Trim it down, that’s what I’m saying!” Lewis Paulson’s voice carried down the hall.

We all stopped, heads turning toward our general manager’s door.

“Well, you didn’t win the fucking cup, did you? There’s no reason we should be carrying this much in salary. None. Trim the fat so we can afford some new talent, or I’ll be finding a new general manager!”

The door swung open, and the owner stalked out, smoothing his tie. His jaw dropped when he saw us there.

“What...what are you fellas doing here?”

“The guys play a pick-up game once a week in the offseason,” Coach Harris answered in a long drawl from where he stood in his own doorway. “Helps build camaraderie.”

Paulson paled. “Right.” He made his way toward us, and we parted as he strode down the middle of the hallway. He took one look at Axel and halted. “Who might you be? I don’t remember seeing you on our roster.” He turned on the charm.

“And you won’t now that I know you’re a dick,” Axel responded in Swedish.

“I’m sorry?”

Langley stepped in front of Axel as if that giant needed protection. “Axel is a friend of Vestergaard. He speaks Swedish.”

“And English,” Axel clarified. “And I said you’re a dick.”

Yeah, so that was English.

“If you need to trim the fat, consider this my official notice that I’ll be retiring at the end of the season,” Gage called out.

Every head turned toward him. We’d known it was coming, but hearing like this was a blow.

“You’re serious?” Paulson called back.

“Yeah. Unless you were kidding when you showed up at my house last night and told me that I’d outlived my usefulness.” Gage stared him down, his helmet propped under his arm.

Like a tennis match, we all looked back at Paulson.

He swallowed. “What about…”

“When you suggested that I coach? Yeah, you can fuck right off.” Gage turned and walked into the locker room.

We all filed in quietly. The locker room was silent as we undressed.

I glanced over to Gentry, who was flexing his knee—he’d watched the pick-up game, his recovery keeping him from playing like he wanted to. He was my next giant obstacle to conquer, as we hadn’t spoken yet.

After showering, I headed out with Axel behind me—bags slung over our shoulders.

“Gentry!” I called out once we hit the parking lot.

“Hey!” His limp was gone as he walked back to me, clapping me on the back as he pulled me into a hug. “Damn, I missed you!”

“I was only gone three weeks,” I answered, guilt punching me in the fucking stomach. “Besides, I’ve tried to call you three times since I got back.”

His face scrunched. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I saw that, but I’ve been so damn busy helping Sawyer. You’ve met him, right? Faith’s roommate?”

Ah, goalie bag boy.

“Actually, I haven’t had the pleasure,” I answered as Axel shifted his weight next to me. I opened my Gatorade and took a long pull.

“Good guy. Solid player, quick on the glove, fast feet. I’m helping him prep for open tryouts.” He smiled wide, and I knew there was more coming. “Plus, I’m thinking of setting him up with Faith.”

I sputtered, my drink flying out of my nose and mouth.

Axel smacked me on the back.

“What, you don’t like that idea?” Gentry laughed. “Do you know something I don’t? Did she actually have time to meet someone while you were working her to death?”

Fuck my life. I couldn’t tell him right now. Not when Faith and I had agreed to do it together. She’d be pissed. But not telling him made our relationship feel like a dirty little secret.

“He doesn’t

know that you’re fucking his sister?” Axel asked in Swedish.

“Shut up,” I answered in Swedish, then switched to English. “Why don’t you come over for dinner?” We needed to go public before he found out some other way.

“Yeah, that sounds great. I’ll look at my schedule! Tell Faith I say hi!” He waved and headed toward his truck.

“Seriously?” Axel asked.

“It’s really fucking complicated.”

“It tends to get that way when you fuck complicated people.” He shook his head as we stored our gear and got into the car. I nearly laughed at the sight of him folding himself into the passenger seat.

The radio came on as the car started, and the sportscaster’s voice filled the speakers.

“And this just in, the NHL has approved one of the bids for expansion. Can’t wait to see what Asher Silas does in Charleston!”

“Fuck!” I slammed my hand against the wheel.

“Problem?” Axel asked.

“Expansion draft,” I answered. “Now we wait to hear who the Sharks will protect from being drafted at the end of the season.”