“I don’t need a lot of sleep.”
With one hand she held the sheet to her chest and rubbed her face with the other. Her heart pounded in her throat as she looked around the room at the sparse oak furniture and the blinds closed across the huge, arching window. “Don’t you have practice?” She was twenty minutes from home—if the traffic was good—with nothing but a raincoat. What had seemed like such a fine idea last night felt like a horrible mistake in the harsh light of day.
“Not for a while.” He sat up and pushed her hair behind her shoulder. “I thought I’d drop you off on my way and pick you back up afterward.”
Her heart pounded in her ears. She didn’t even have a pair of panties. There was a time in her life when that wouldn’t have bothered her, but that was a long time ago. A different time and a whole different life. She’d been a different person, and that wasn’t her anymore. Anxiety tightened her forehead and she feared she was going to have a panic attack. She’d worked hard to put that kind of life behind her.
“Faith?”
She looked at him. “Yes.”
“Did you hear what I said?”
“You have to go to practice.”
He lowered his mouth to her shoulder and softly bit her skin. “I want to pick you up afterward. Maybe take you to a little Italian restaurant I discovered in Bellevue. Service sucks, but the food is great.”
“No!”
His head snapped up and he looked into her eyes. She had to think. Had to get control of her life and herself. She couldn’t date her hockey player. Her husband had just died. She couldn’t date anyone.
After several heartbeats, he said slowly, “Okay.”
“I meant…” What did she mean? She was so confused. She didn’t know. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out. I just meant…”
“I know what you meant. You just want to have sex and that’s it.”
Is that what she meant? No. Yes. She couldn’t think beyond the confusion tightening her skull.
He shrugged and took off his shoes and socks.
“I’m cool with that. A lot of women want to fuck hockey players.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head but he didn’t look cool. He looked a little angry. The T-shirt flew across the room and he yanked the sheet from her grasp.
“Ty!”
“Now we know where things stand.” He pushed her shoulders until she lay back looking up at him.
“You’re mad.”
He shook his head and leaned over to plant his hands beside her head on the pillow. “I was just trying to be nice before. Now I don’t have to worry about it.”
Faith raised her hand to the hard muscles of his chest. “I like it when you’re nice.”
“Too bad.” He lowered his face to the side of her neck.
Before she’d fallen asleep in his bed, they’d had sex twice. The last time had been in his shower that had body jets and could easily accommodate a party of six. Which meant her hair was probably a horrible mess. A frown wrinkled her brow as he kissed her throat. Her life was in crisis and she was worried about her hair?
“I don’t want to play nice anymore.” His warm breath fanned across her neck and down her chest and she felt a slight easing of her tension.
“How do you want to play?” she asked.
“Rough,” he answered, as his mouth moved across her neck, pausing to bite the side of her throat. He slid down her body to her right breast and looked up at her, his gaze a volatile mix of anger and lust as he opened his mouth and sucked her nipple inside. He drew her hard into his hot, wet mouth while he palmed her other breast. Gone was her lover of the night before. The man who used his big hands to tease and stroke a response wherever he touched. Gone was the man who took his time and paid attention to her response as he made love to her body.
He turned his attention to her other breast and stabbed at her stiff nipple with his tongue. His rough hands kneaded her soft flesh and God help her, but it turned her on. She grabbed handfuls of sheet and comforter and arched her back. She moaned deep in her throat and he laughed.
“If I’d known you like it rough,” he said as he kissed and bit his way down her body, “I wouldn’t have wasted my time playing nice.” He kissed her belly before continuing to her hip and stopping at her inner thigh. He looked at her beneath heavy lids, his beautiful eyes a shining turmoil as he sucked the sensitive skin just below the crease of her thigh, teasing her and driving her crazy with need. Just when she was ready to scream with frustration, he ordered, “Put your feet on my shoulders.” Then he parted her thighs and took her into his hot mouth. He didn’t show her any more gentleness now than he had to her breasts a moment ago. He ate her like she was strictly there for his pleasure alone. He ravished her with his mouth and tongue, and God help her if she didn’t love that too. She blamed Layla.
Within a few short minutes, a hot, violent orgasm clenched her belly and burned her from the inside out. It shook her and left her gasping for air. Ty stayed with her until the last wave and then he rose to his knees. His heavy gaze stared into hers and he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. His eyes looked into hers as he unrolled a condom down the length of his erection.
She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t think of one thing to say besides, “Thanks. I think.”
“Don’t thank me. It’s not over yet.”
Then he lowered himself and shoved his hard penis into her body. The force of his thrust pushed her up the mattress, and the oxygen whooshed from his lungs. “It’s not over until I say it’s over.”
She looked up into the harsh angles of his face and ran her hands around his shoulders to the sides of his head. Ty might be mad at her, but she couldn’t be mad at him. Not after the intense orgasm he’d just given her, and not while the head of his hot penis stroked her inside and started another fire only he could put out. “Okay,” she whispered and rocked her pelvis, contracting and releasing her muscles around his thick shaft.
His breath hissed from his lips and he swore as he pulled out and drove into her. Over and over he plunged deep inside, stroking her, pushing her toward orgasm, making the air around her thick and hard to breathe. She wrapped her legs around his waist and met him thrust for thrust until a fiery climax pounded through her veins as he pounded into her body. She arched her back and held on as he rode out his own storm.
When it was over, they dressed in silence. He in his T-shirt and shorts. She in her raincoat. Neither spoke on the drive home. Ty stuck Linkin Park into the CD player and flooded the rich interior with heavy metal, relieving them both of awkward conversation. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, and she was still so confused she didn’t know what to say anyway. Even though he’d denied it, he was angry. Like she’d hurt his feelings, which, given his hard exterior and surly nature, seemed bizarre.
As he drove into the parking garage and pulled to a stop next to the elevator, he turned off the music. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
“You didn’t.” She felt a little tender in certain areas, but she wasn’t hurt. Quite the contrary. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”
“Faith, I’m not a girl.” His blue eyes looked at her through the deeper shadows of the car. “I don’t get my feelings hurt when a gorgeous woman tells me she just wants to use me for sex.” He laughed without humor. “Although you’re the first. It’s never happened before. It’s always the other way around.”
“Aren’t you just using me for sex too?”
He ran his gaze across her face and pushed the button to unlock her door. “Yeah. I am. Thanks.”
Monday night, Ty taped his socks just below his knees as Coach Nystrom pointed to the marker board. The rest of the Chinooks sat or stood around, waiting for the game to begin. The sound of ripping tape competed with Coach Nystrom’s last-minute instructions.
“Block the shots. Get in front of our goal,” he said as he drew O’s on the board.