Lucas (Cold Fury Hockey 8)

"Quit wasting time," she growls at me in a cute, kittenish way as she rocks against my hand.

But it's not so adorable that I don't take her at face value, realizing she wants to fuck, like, right now.

I kiss her hard one more time, then pull her panties down her legs. After they're free and I toss them over my shoulder, I turn her body, push her front into the door, and order her as I stand up, "Spread your legs for me, Stephy."

Her laugh is husky. "Stephy. I like that."

"And you call me Luc," I return to her as I lean forward to nip at her ear.

"Well," she says breathless as she sticks her ass out toward me. "How about get on with fucking me, Luc."

And damn my name sounds nice coming out of her mouth. Want to hear that again and louder.

I take my cock in hand and rub the tip through her wetness. She rolls her hips, trying to get me on target, and when the head slips into her, she groans. "Yes...right there."

Because Steph is standing with her legs spread in those sexy heels, I don't necessarily have the best angle, but fucking up against the door because we can't wait to make it to the bed is way too hot to pass up. I work my way into her body, short thrusts so she can stretch to accommodate me. Steph writhes and urges me on with filthy little whispers, and when I'm finally seated to the hilt inside of her sex, she turns her head and lays her cheek against the door.

I see her eyes are closed and she has a dreamy smile on her face as she murmurs, "Let's do this hard and fast, okay, Luc?"

Magic. Fucking. Words.

I pull out of her and slam back inside. She slaps a hand to the door for balance and grunts from the pleasure. I like a woman who makes noises, and I pound into her body to get it from her over and over again. My breathing becomes labored from the exertion of this furious fucking and sweat rolls down my face. Steph gyrates and moans and tells me to fuck her harder. My balls are slapping against her, trying to stuff as much of myself into her body as I can.

Because she demands it.

"Harder," she says again, and somehow I manage to fuck her harder, and the fact that she's taking it and begging for more is a complete fucking turn-on. My orgasm starts to build and I grit my teeth, not wanting to give it up yet. My instinct is to slow down, draw this out, but I can tell she's getting close too and I want to watch her come.

Steph lowers her torso, pushing her ass out more, and rears backward into my thrusts. I've never in my life gone this hard with a woman. Didn't know I had it in me. Certainly never met a woman who had this in her.

Best. Hookup. Ever.

All of a sudden, Steph goes rigid, and for a moment I think I've hurt her, then I feel her pussy clamp hard on to my dick.

"God, yes, Luc. Yes, yes, yes." And she explodes with a violent shudder that causes her to groan as her head falls forward.

I grip on to her hips more tightly, pick up the pace even more, and follow her over the edge with a roar of pleasure so intense it might be a religious experience.

Chapter 1

Lucas

FOUR WEEKS LATER...

"To Garrett and Lucas," Alex yells as he lifts his beer into the air.

I grin, lifting my beer to Garrett, and several of my teammates all hoist as well. We're celebrating our win tonight against the Denver Blue Devils, as it was a clutch game. We've been battling them neck and neck for the top divisional spot, and with the play-offs starting just a month away, this was a must-win game.

Garrett and I sealed it with less than a minute to go. I intercepted an errant pass, Garrett took off down the right side, and I fed it to him beautifully for the game-winning goal.

We're celebrating at Hoolihan's, a local sports bar where many of the Cold Fury players hang after a game. We didn't have a spot like this when I played for the New Jersey Wildcats, but I find it super fucking cool. That's because the fans who come here to mix and mingle with the players are super fucking cool. Sure, there are several puck bunnies looking to hook up, which is never a bad thing in my opinion. But the vast majority of the people are just super fans wanting to connect with the team they support.

I take a sip of my beer and almost choke when Max gives me a light punch in my stomach. As I'm coughing and wiping my mouth, he grins at me and says, "Glad to have you on this team, little brother."

I give him a playful punch back. "Dream come true for us to play in the NHL together."

"Going to be a better dream," Max says soberly, "when we win the Stanley Cup together."

"Amen," I agree just as seriously. There is no joking around about the Stanley Cup. "Didn't Jules want to come out with you tonight?"

Max gives me the stink eye. "You know we actually do things separate and apart from each other."

I snicker. "Hardly. You two are attached at the hip."

Because my brother Max is a romantic and believes deeply in happily ever afters, his smile goes soft at my reference. His voice, though, is teasing. "Come on, man. You've seen Jules. Why wouldn't I want to be attached at the hip with her?"

My eyes sweep over the crowd as I try to see if there are any potentials in the crowd. Not to attach my hip to, but hip action definitely would be involved. I'm riding high on a victory that I helped to seal, and while Max may be about true love, I'm about orgasms.

Just before I turn to Max to explain the difference between us--which he actually already knows--my eyes catch on a mass of vibrant red hair attached to the head of a woman walking through the door.

"Holy fucking shit," I mutter under my breath.

Apparently not low enough that Max doesn't hear. "What?"

I shake my head as I watch Stephanie Frazier enter Hoolihan's. "Just a blast from my recent past."

A fucking amazing blast from my past.

It's not that I'm against relationships, it's just that I don't want to be bothered by the complications at this point my life. Stephanie, however, made me consider the alternative, if even for a brief time. My night with her was practically transcendental, the absolute best sex I've ever had in my life. That alone had me interested in seeing her again, but the evening ended on an awkward note and it didn't happen.

But seeing her here now, there's absolutely no reason why we can't chat, and if there's still a spark, perhaps this celebration tonight has just gotten better for me.

"I see someone I know," I tell Max as I push my beer into his hand to hold for me. "I'll be back in a minute."

I start winding my way through the crowd, and at six five, I'm easily able to see Stephanie looking around as if she's meeting someone.

Her gaze sweeps right by me, which is a little discouraging, but then her eyes snap back and lock with mine. And the minute we make that connection, my stomach completely bottoms out. Her face is tight with what looks to be an incredible amount of stress, and she does not appear happy to see me.

That can mean only one thing, and I know that my life is getting ready to turn upside down. That amazing night with Stephanie didn't end so well.

I grip on to her hips more tightly, pick up the pace even more, and follow her over the edge with a roar of pleasure so intense it might be a religious experience.

Goddamn that was intense.

"Oh wow," Stephanie huffs out as she tries to catch her breath.

"Fucking understatement of the year," I rasp back to her, my throat parched from the effort I just put into that.

I ease my hold on her hips and pull slowly out of her wet heat, unable to contain the groan at the feel of her against me. My eyes are pinned on my very happy dick as it slides out, and I know it would not mind having another round with her before the evening is up.

But then I see it.

The condom split down the side of my shaft with my semen leaking out.

"Goddammit," I growl as I slip free of her and watch more of my semen drip out.

Stephanie straightens up and turns toward me slowly, tucking her wild hair behind her ears. "What?"

My head lifts slowly and I grimace at

her as I pull the condom off. "It broke."

Yeah, that evening ended on a very awkward note. Neither one of us could blame the other, as we just had some amazing sex, so we ended up ranting about how shitty the condom was. There was the inevitable talk about STDs, but both of us were assured the other was clean based on past experience with condom usage and medical exams. There was also the talk about pregnancy, and I was not happy to learn that the condom was our only means of birth control that night. Stephanie said she could see a doctor the following day and get the morning-after pill, which gave me a level of comfort I'm guessing I shouldn't have relied on based on the way she's looking at me.

Stephanie stops in place and I continue to walk toward her. She watches me warily, and there is no doubt my mind that she is standing in this bar tonight looking only for me.

As soon as I reach her, she says, "Can we talk in private?"

"Yeah," I croak.

I sure as fuck don't want to talk and hear what she has to say, but there's no way I can avoid it. She simply turns and pushes back through the crowd to the door, walking outside. I follow her like I'm being led to the gallows.