Across the Line (In The Zone) (5 page)

“Let me see that,” Becca said.

He lifted the ice away and she took his hand and examined it. She had a gentle but deft touch.

“This looks broken,” she said accusingly.

“Yep.”

“We need a splint.”

He put the ice back on the finger. “I can buy one.”

“I have one at home if you want,” Oliver said.

“Nah. I’ll just go to a drugstore, but thanks. Great game.” He stuck his hand out and they shook. Oliver and Savannah joined the others at the snack bar while Calder walked Becca to her car.

“You wanna get a drink?” he asked her, unwilling to let her go. It wasn’t even ten yet.

She shook her head. “You have to get a splint for that finger and I have to go in early tomorrow and cook.”

“Want help?” he asked, even though he knew he should spend time with his mom.

She regarded him with one raised eyebrow. She did that a lot. “How much experience do you have?”

“None,” he admitted. “I don’t really cook much. I’m more of a...microwaver.” He moved closer to her and she leaned back against the side of her car. It was a beat-up thing from the nineties.

“Then you won’t be much use to me,” she said, her face looking a bit flushed.

He smiled. “Maybe I could provide some other type of service.” Careful of his finger, he put his hands on her waist and leaned down to rub his cheek against hers.

“Oh?” she said, looking up at him. “What kind of service?”

Careful of his hurt finger, he moved his thumbs back and forth, brushing the undersides of her breasts ever so lightly. “Massage.”

He got the eyebrow again. “Massage.”

“That’s correct. My specialty is body-to-body massage. And before you ask, body-to-body massage is where I don’t just use my hands like ordinary inferior masseuses. I utilize my entire body. Stop laughing. I’m serious.”

“Oh, I know you’re serious,” she said, her eyes bright with amusement.

“So, let’s book you an appointment. I’m free tonight.”

“Not so fast.” She placed her palms on his chest but didn’t push very hard.

“Oh, I get it. You’re skeptical. I understand that. That’s why I offer a free lip massage.” He leaned in and started nuzzling her neck.

“This gets better and better.” She tried to sound reluctant, but her body language told another story. She wove her fingers in his hair.

“Make fun all you want,” he said, catching her gaze, “but I’m certain you’ll want the full body-to-body massage after you try the freebie.”

With that, he slowly lowered his head and kissed her. Softly at first. Unassuming nibbles that didn’t demand much. She responded, catching his bottom lip between her teeth, teasing him with her tongue. She gave back, took the lead. He liked that. He liked it a lot. He wanted to kiss her all night. He wanted to lick every inch of her gorgeous body. He had the crazy urge to bring her back to Green Veil Falls and get naked with her under the night sky. Why not? It was summer. Of course, his luck, the mosquitoes would have a party feasting on his bare ass. Or they’d meet up with that snake again.

She pulled back, panting, her lips wet.

“Calder, wait. What about your finger? We should get the splint on it, ice it some more.”

He chuckled. “Do you have
any
idea how little I care about my finger right now?”

He took her mouth again, harder this time.

Their tongues tangled and fought. He pressed his erection against her and suddenly he wanted to feel it against her naked skin, maybe wedged between her ass cheeks as he caressed her breasts.

“Calder, wait,” she said again, breaking the kiss with a turn of her head.

“What?” He didn’t slow down a bit.
Damn it.
This was where she said he was moving too fast and they’d better call it a night. But he didn’t want to call it a night. This date was
not
over, not by a long shot. He kissed her ear and sucked on the lobe, causing her to gasp.

Breathing heavily, she leaned away. “I think we...” She put a hand on his butt and squeezed, sucked in a quick breath, then squeezed again. “I think we should go to my place. Now.”

Chapter Eight

Becca’s apartment was a cramped one-bedroom place, but she did little more than sleep here. Most of her time was spent downstairs in the café. The secondhand dining table was covered with papers and pamphlets from the San Diego trip and her laundry basket was overflowing. But at least her bed was made, a good thing.

Because she and Calder were going to have sex. Hot and crazy, moaning, panting, sweaty, messy sex.

Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t jump into bed with someone after the first date, but Calder got her more hot and bothered than she could ever remember being. Maybe it was because he’d dominated the rink for the better part of an hour. She’d watched hockey before and never felt any particular tingle below the waist, but there was something exciting and arousing in seeing Calder move with such confidence and intent. However, the twitchy feeling she had down there was more likely from his knee-weakening kiss and the fact that he had the hardest, most sculpted ass cheeks she’d ever fondled.

She put her keys on the hook by the door. “First thing’s first. Sit down at the table and we’ll get your finger taken care of.”

He grumbled. “Your priorities are different from mine. There is an entirely different part of my anatomy I’m hoping you’ll take care of.”

“You don’t want your finger healing crooked.” She got a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and tossed them to him. “You know what to do with these.”

He sighed. “Yup.” He sat, legs splayed, at the table and folded the bag of peas around his hand. “I’m an expert at icing myself.”

“You want a beer or something?” she asked as she walked down the hall to the bathroom.

“Maybe later.”

Rummaging in the medicine cabinet, she got what she needed. She still couldn’t get over how good a hockey player he was. Intellectually, she knew he was NHL, but somehow watching him perform at The Rink brought the fact home. He’d impressed her. He’d made it look so easy and natural, pivoting and turning on his skates, changing directions in the blink of an eye, darting around more nimbly than she could barefoot on the ground. And his shooting skills...

Ithaca was a hockey town and Becca had hit a puck or two in her time. She could make a goal if she had time to line up her shot. But Calder and Oliver were light-years away from the other guys they’d played with just now. One moment, they had the puck, the next, it was hitting the post or sliding under the goalie’s leg pads. Every move they made seemed calculated, precise and lightning-fast.

It made her wonder if Oliver wanted to play in the NHL. Savannah didn’t talk much about her personal life with Becca, probably because of that managerial distance she maintained with her staff. Likely as not, that question would remain unanswered unless it was announced on the local news that he’d signed with such-and-such team.

She returned to find Calder exactly as she’d left him. His hair was still damp from his shower. He wore shorts, a T-shirt and flip-flops. He gave her a crooked smile when she sat next to him.

“Now let’s see about this finger.” She carefully unwrapped the bag of peas from his hand and saw his middle finger was swollen and pink between the first and second joint, which indicated he’d broken the phalanx media. “Doesn’t look serious.”

“It’s not. I’ve done this before.”

She placed his finger in the splint, nestling it against the foam lining, then started wrapping the tape around it. The silence between them felt awkward. She wondered what he was thinking. She hoped it wasn’t that she was going to make a great notch on his bedpost. As a professional athlete, he probably had a lot of notches. She didn’t get that vibe from him, though. If she had, she’d never have brought him home.

She recalled how weak her knees had been when they’d kissed in the parking lot, then thought that might not actually be true. Sometimes pure sexual need overrode pride. And who said
he
wasn’t going to be the notch? Maybe this was a case of mutual notchification. She was fine with that.

“How does that feel?” she asked after securing the last bit of tape.

“Feels fine,” he said, moving the finger up and down. “Thanks.” He’d caught her gaze and wouldn’t let it go.

“Want that beer now? Or some acetaminophen?”

He shook his head slowly. “Nope. No beer.” He took her hands in his. “No acetaminophen.” He drew her to her feet. “I just want you.”

All the desire she’d felt when caught between his hard body and her car returned full force. It was his eyes. They’d grabbed on to her. They said, “We’re going to have sex. It’s going to very, very good and it’s going to take us hours.” They more than said it. They promised it.

As if brainwashed, she wordlessly led him to the bedroom.

Again, because she didn’t spend much time here or have friends over, she didn’t have much in the way of decoration. She appreciated beautiful interiors, but didn’t strive to create them herself. Except at Cups. Her café was top on her priority list and all her creative juices went toward making her restaurant shine. But here at home, as long as the item served its purpose, she was satisfied. So, her furniture was mismatched; the linens, she got on clearance; and her walls were bare except for a cheaply framed poster from the movie
Chocolat.

Next to the double bed, he put his hands on her waist and pulled her close. Her heart started beating faster as he bent his head.

“This can’t really go anywhere,” she blurted before he could kiss her.

Frowning slightly, he cocked his head and lifted it but didn’t take his hands off her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you and me. Us. We can’t last. You live too far away for us to try to make a go of it. I tried a long-distance relationship once. It was just too hard, and he only lived seventy miles away, not two thousand.”

“Oh, sure. I get it,” he said, a little flustered. “I didn’t really expect...”

“No, I know.” She forced a laugh and stepped away. “Of course you didn’t. I just...it’s easier if everybody is on the same page, is all.”

His face took on an earnest expression as he cupped her face. “I think that’s smart. If we know where we stand, no one gets hurt.”

“Right,” she said just before he bent his head and kissed her.

He started gently, as before. His lips brushed against hers, tentatively at first, and then with more certainty. He kissed her cheek, then her lips again, then her chin and when she tilted her head back, he dragged his mouth over her throat. If he’d been a vampire, he’d have been home free.

She did the same thing to him. His throat was bristly against her lips and his skin smelled slightly of soap. A rumbling sound came from his chest when she nibbled her way up his neck to his ear. She wanted to kiss his shoulder, but his shirt was in the way. She pulled back and grabbed it.

“No more shirt.”

He let her tug it up over his head and said, “You either.”

Her blouse came off and then her bra. They kissed again more deeply this time. He groaned when she pulled him close, pressing her breasts against his chest. She felt coarse hair against her skin and the taut muscles of his back under her palms.

“Put your mouth on me,” she said.

He slid his right hand under her breast and brushed his thumb over the tip. “Here, I hope.”

“Yes. God, yes,” she gasped.

His mouth closed over her nipple. He sucked on her, licked a wet circle around the tip.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” he said roughly. “Ever since you came out of the water up at the falls.”

He bent her over his arm so her breasts were offered up to him like dessert. What he did with his lips and tongue and even his teeth drove her crazy. She couldn’t catch her breath, or her balance, for that matter. He was the only thing preventing her from falling over.

Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he straightened. He looked a little wild around the eyes and his lips were wet. She’d mussed his hair up and it stuck out in all directions.

“Now the rest,” he said, unbuttoning his shorts. “I need you naked and under me.”

His words brought a fresh wave of desire.

“Is your knee going to be okay?” she asked.

“You know, maybe you did miss your calling when you left the medical field,” he said with a chuckle. “Let me worry about that. I promise you won’t even notice I’m hurt.”

“Are all hockey players as cocky as you in bed?” She stepped out of her pants and underwear and scooted them aside.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve never slept with a hockey player.”

He looked her up and down and she let him. She liked her body for the most part. If she had a magic wand she might have given herself a little more in the derriere department, but overall she wasn’t unhappy.

As he took off the rest of his clothes, she checked him out too. In spite of all his talk about being flabby, he looked pretty damned good, light-years ahead of other guys she’d been to bed with. The hair on his chest lay flat, which she liked, and he had a nice sagittal line down his abdomen. His thighs and calves were a study in musculature. She’d seen them in action, propelling him down the ice at high speeds. His knee hadn’t seemed to bother him at all on the ice. And his erect penis looked deliciously long and thick.

He moved forward, urging her back onto the mattress with a hand on her shoulder. She went down easily, wanting his weight on her. They kissed again, rolling around, exploring each other’s mouths and bodies. She ran her hands up and down his back, over his shoulders, his lean arms. It was sensory overload. Her brain was trying to process so much input—the scent of his skin, the coarse hair on his legs and chest, the low sounds he was making as he laid a line of kisses along her clavicle—it was hard for her to think. Eventually she gave up trying.

“God, your skin is so soft. I knew it was going to be soft, but not this soft.”

He kissed his way down her body. He stopped at her breasts, brushing his lips over a nipple, taking it in, sucking gently. She cupped his head, afraid he’d move on before she wanted him to. She rubbed her legs against his and tried to suppress her sigh of disappointment when he let go of her nipple, but he was only switching sides. Each soft pull of his mouth aroused her more. She was so wet and slick, her inner thighs felt slippery.

He lifted his head. “God, you smell good.”

“Yeah right. I didn’t take a shower at The Rink like you did. I probably reek of beef and barley soup.”

“No, you don’t. You smell like woman, like my woman. At least for tonight.” He slid farther down her body and she tensed. He was going down on her, that much was obvious, and she didn’t usually let men do that right away. It left her so vulnerable and exposed with her most private area open to scrutiny. But she let him keep going. She could have closed her legs and pulled on his shoulders, pulled him back up, but she didn’t.

He stroked her with his tongue, a tentative touch, a carnal introduction.
Hello
,
Becca.
This is my tongue.
I’m going to use it to make you come.
Another soft, lingering stroke and a long inhale from him. It felt incredible. She wanted more. She shifted her hips subtly as he kissed her inner thighs, her pouty outer lips, grabbing them between his teeth and lower lip and tugging gently.

He was good. He knew how to tease, how to back off, how to build her up gradually. She found herself rocking to and fro. Her hands found their way to her breasts and she played with her nipples as he licked and suckled on her down below. The roughness of his unshaven cheeks on her soft skin only added to the sensations. As he sensed her getting closer to climax, he became more aggressive. When she shied away, he pulled her back. His tongue sought out her clit with purpose. She began whimpering with short rapid breaths, shuddering as she got closer and closer.
Please
, she thought,
please...don’t stop
.
I’m almost there
, and then the wave hit. She arched and shuddered and pulled his hair and came and came and came.