Van (Cold Fury Hockey 9)

"I will," I promise her, but honestly, I think I'm going to do it. I've got no real reason not to, other than some pissed-off brothers if they found out. But the benefits include having a real earning potential to let me get my own place and start to give my parents something each month.

What they don't know isn't going to hurt them.

Chapter 15

Van

I'm exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. The team plane flew back to Raleigh tonight after our loss to New Jersey, tying the series up at two games apiece. It's fucking hard to win on the road during the play-offs, the home team's fan base actually becoming an additional player on the ice so to speak. There's an energy that you can almost cut with a knife from the loud music and thousands of screaming fans cheering their team on.

It's the same when we play here at home. I expect this series will go all seven games.

So yeah...exhausted from a defeat and a late-night flight back home.

But beyond exhilarated because Lucas left from the airport to head straight to Stephanie's apartment, and that means Simone and I have the house to ourselves. We can crumble the foundation or scream down the neighborhood and it will all be cool.

The minute I walk into the house, the stillness tells me Simone isn't here. Yet I walk through the house to make sure, perhaps thinking maybe she's sleeping naked in my bed.

No such luck.

I pull my phone out and shoot her a text. Where are you?

I didn't necessarily tell her we'd hook up tonight, but I figured she'd know that. She normally doesn't work on Sundays, and surely she knows her brother is going to go stay with Stephanie.

She doesn't respond, and it bothers me a little bit. Simone could be out with friends, or she could have picked up an extra work shift, but for some reason it just kind of bothers me she didn't tell me.

Not that I even gave her one hint of when I'd be in. Because to do that would smack too much of a committed relationship, and she knows that's not the way I roll. I know it's absolutely misogynistic to expect her to keep me fully informed of her whereabouts so I can fuck her when I have some time, but I won't give the same to her.

I know just how fucked up that is, but I firmly believe if I give an inch, I'll be expected to give a proverbial mile at some point. I have to maintain the distance with her emotionally.

I take my luggage into my room and unpack. With no response from Simone, I decide to take a shower despite the fact I took one at the arena tonight after the game. It's a way to pass some time until I can figure out what the rest of my evening is going to be like.

When I get out of the shower, I'm relieved to see a text waiting for me from Simone. Started new job tonight. On a quick break. Glad you're back. We'll tear it up tonight when I get home. Lucas is staying with Stephanie.

Yeah, no shit.

Where? I write back.

There's absolutely no hesitation in her response. Follies.

What the ever loving fucking hell?

My response to her is swift. Are you fucking kidding me? A strip club?

You know it? She asks in her return text. You should come and watch me.

My head actually spins with anger that she could be that stupid. And yes, I know Follies. I've been in there on more than one occasion and had my cock sucked by a dancer or two in a private room. What the fuck is she thinking?

I swear to fucking God if a man touches her, I'll kill him.

--

I throw open the door to Follies and then pull my wallet open. I pay the cover fee and look for Simone. She's not on the stage, and that doesn't make me happy. At least on the stage, touching is minimum.

I walk through the dark club, intensely annoyed by the dance music and strobe lights flashing. My eyes sweep over girl after girl, not even bothering to appreciate their bodies. I don't even look at the dudes, most of whom I bet are sporting erections as they look on with leering eyes toward the dancers.

Fuck...I used to be one of these dudes.

And then I see her.

In the corner, taking a drink order from a table of men in business suits. She's wearing a string thong and nothing else, those fucking perfect tits on full display, and Christ...her nipples are even hard.

This doesn't arouse me. It makes me furious, so much so that I can't really see anything else but her as I stride her way. This worries me slightly, because it's the same sort of focused rage I get when I'm fighting out on the ice, and I am not thinking this is going to bode well for anyone within a ten-foot radius of me, least of all Simone.

She must sense the disturbance in the atmosphere I'm creating, because she turns and looks straight at me. I barely process her smile, the fact that it clearly says she's glad to see me. I choose to ignore the slight mischief in her eyes, and I certainly don't pay attention to the tiny bit of naughtiness I see in that smile. I try to manage the thin haze of red that seems to be coating my eyes as I come to a stop inches from her.

She looks up at me, batting those long eyelashes. "Looking mighty fine, Mr. Turner."

I suck in air through my nose over her cavalier attitude, and with barely controlled fury, I grit out to her, "You follow me out of this club right now. If you don't, I'm going to pick you up and carry you out. There are probably going to be several bouncers who are going to try to stop me, and I'm going to kill anyone who tries to interfere. Am I clear?"

About halfway through my little speech her eyes rounded and those beautiful lips turned downward. Her shoulders sagged, and that's when I knew she wouldn't fight me on this.

She just nods, but rather than wait for me to lead her out, she pushes past me and starts making her way toward the exit doors. I follow along, keeping my gaze moving around the club to make sure no one tries to stop her or me, but either the bouncers are lazy or they can see the menace coming off me.

When Simone steps outside, I'm right behind her, and once we're clear of the door, my hand is latching on to her elbow. I'm almost shaking with anger, so I do nothing but march her along the front of the building and around the side alley for some much-needed privacy and so no one can see the fact she's still fucking topless.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Simone snarls at me as she wrenches free of my grip.

"Wrong with me?" I bark at her. My hand goes to her throat and I back her into the side of the brick building. Her eyes flare wide with surprise, but not from my grip, which is soft, but more from the fury in my tone. "You're working in a strip club? Flashing your tits to strangers. Do I need to go on?"

Simone raises her chin and her eyes flash with a fury of her own. "What do you care? What I do for work isn't any of your business."

"Wrong," I growl at her as I lean my face to hover over hers. "You wanted a promise of exclusivity and you got it. I get the same back from you, and that means no one else looking at or touching what is mine."

She blinks those gorgeous hazel eyes at me and sputters, "Are you jealous?"

Jerking my head back, I tell her, "Give me a fucking break. I'm just proprietary about what's mine. Besides, I know what the girls do here to make extra money, and I'll be damned if you're going to--"

Simone's hand cracking against my cheek shuts me right the fuck up and my hand falls away from her throat as I take a cautious step back.

"You can go fuck yourself," she hisses at me, and turns to walk away.

My hand shoots out, latches on to her arm, and I jerk her back to me. The movement causes her to stumble, but my arms are around her to hold her up. Turning, I push her back into the wall, this time keeping my frame there to pin her in.

"This is mine," I whisper to her as I bring a hand to palm her breast. Her eyes flash with fury and she growls at me. I squeeze her flesh, then I pull her nipple between my finger and thumb. "This is mine."

As I roll her nipple, I slide my other hand between her legs, squeezing her sex lightly. The heat in her eyes doesn't lessen, but the anger is certainly dulled. "This is mine, Simone. You gave it to me. Your tits, your

cunt, and that mouth. All mine. Only mine to touch. Only mine to look at. You show it to no one else, you got me?"

Her lips curve upward and her smirk is knowing. "You don't own my ass."

"I'll remedy that tonight," I promise her. "Now are you going to get in my car and come home with me?"

She surprises me by tilting her hips against my hand, silently asking for something more. I watch fascinated as she licks her lips and whispers, "I don't know, Van. The money here is pretty good. You'd have to entice me to walk away from this."

Fucking little brat. I have to bite my tongue so I don't grin at her even as I want to shake the rottenness out of her. No way I can ever let her know I find her sass to be a major turn-on. If she ever figured that out about me, I'd never hear the end of it.

I slip my finger into that scrap of material barely covering her pussy and sink it deep into her. Christ, she's dripping, and I wonder if that's from being on naked display in there or if she is reacting to me. It's a fucking question I really don't want to know the answer to.

I'm mollified somewhat when Simone's eyes flutter shut and she leans back into the wall. She spreads her legs for me, and I slip another finger in. I slowly move them in and out, my other hand still torturing her nipple. I watch her face go slack and her lips part. When I hit her clit, she starts to pant and rotate her hips.

"Fuck, you're hot," I mutter as I look down at this sinful creature riding my fingers.

"Fuck me right now, Van," she moans as she opens her eyes and pins them on me. "And I'll go home with you."

Goddamn...what did I do to deserve this treasure?