FORCE: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (15 page)

I grinned and knelt upward on the bed. When he tried to take me into his arms, I swatted him away and went for the fly on his dress pants. “Stay standing,” I commanded, as I slid down to my knees on the floor. “That’s all you have to do.”

His eyes widened as he watched me pull his pants and boxers down to the ground. Without a word, he stepped out of them.

I licked my lips again. “You never let me,” I complained. “Always getting what you want and never letting me get what I want.”

“What do you want?” he breathed as I touched my tongue to his tip.

I cleared my throat and looked up at him. “I want to feel your cock slide down my throat.” He choked out a moan as I opened my mouth and slid my lips down the silky length of him. Then I pulled back. “I want to feel you get hard in my mouth.”

“I’m as hard as I can get,” he groaned tightly.

I slid my fist down the shaft now slick with my saliva. “I’ll be the judge of that,” I growled, in a pretty good imitation of him.

He sagged forward as I took him in my mouth again. “Stay standing!” I commanded him. “It’s an endurance test. We need your stamina to be in peak condition for the Stanley Cup playoffs.”

“You’re a sadist,” he moaned as I began moving my head faster and faster. He groaned again, a loud, long sound that raised goose bumps on my arms. I moaned my own response, loving how hard he was in my mouth, enjoying how sexy his sounds were, how he didn’t hold back in telling me just how much he loved this. When he sank his fingers into my hair, I let him use me as he needed. The way he lost control, his groans descending into animalistic grunts, savage and barely contained, made me lose control, too.

Kneeling in front of him, letting him thrust into my mouth with unchecked fury, was as far as humanly possible from the gentle romance I thought I wanted.

But now I knew.

Now I knew this was
everything
I wanted. I just needed him to show me who I really was—the girl who loved it when he gagged her with his cock, the girl who took him all the way back to her throat and let him come, the girl who swallowed every last drop and licked her lips for more because it was his and she loved him and…

Fuck.

I know what this is.

I love him.

I’ve never felt this.

But I’ve wished for it my whole life.

I love him.

Fuck.

“Christ,” he exhaled as his thighs quivered.

“Your training worked,” I smiled as I pulled back and sat on the bed. “You’re going to win the Cup after this.”

“God damn it, Candace,” he growled, his eyes wild. “Where did I find you?” He crawled over me, pressing me backwards until I was flat on my back, pinned underneath him.

“You rescued me,” I reminded him.

“I think you’re doing the same,” he said, as he covered my mouth with his.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Ian

My sweet Candy was more of a sadist than Coach Russell, but I had my revenge. Pinning her down underneath me was easy. Getting hard again after she drained me so well was a little more difficult, but all it took was forcing her to come twice with my fingers and then once again with my tongue. After that, I was just as ready for her as I always was.

“Ian,” she sighed as I slipped inside of her.

“I know,” I breathed. She didn’t have to say it. I knew what she was thinking, because those words were on the tip of my tongue, too. Feeling her like this, seeing her this way, undone and crying out underneath me—
fuck
.

It brought those words right to my lips.

When I came, they were still there, and I wasn’t even certain that I had said them until I looked down and saw her face, wide-eyed and smiling.

“I love you, too,” she whispered.

I kissed her, hard.

“You’re going to win,” she told me fiercely, once she pulled back, gasping. “You’re the best damn player they have, and you’re going to lead your team to victory for the second year in a row. I know this like I know my own name.”

I smiled. “You sound pretty sure.”

“I am sure. We should celebrate.”

I nodded. “It just so happens I have some champagne in the fridge. Shall we toast my victory right now?”

“I’d love to,” she nodded.

“I love
you
,” I said again, pressing my lips to her forehead.

She got up and went to the bathroom to clean up. I walked to the kitchen and popped the cork on the bottle I had been saving for…some occasion. I bought it on a whim, just so I knew I’d have it when the time was right, and I was frankly impressed at my foresight.

As I popped the cork, a thought flitted in front of my brain like an annoying little gnat—Tim’s face when I found him.

What the hell am I going to do about Tim?

It was the strangest feeling, standing there in the doorway and watching two people who
shouldn’t be fucking
untangle themselves from each other. Like I was living my life on repeat.

I should have punched Tim, right then and there.
How could he do something so stupid?
It’s the easiest thing in the world not to cheat, just…
don’t fucking do it. Keep it in your Goddamned pants.
It’s cowardly and ugly, and I should have made a big fucking stink about it right there. Shamed the bastard in front of the entire party.

But then Candace had wormed her way into my brain and stopped me. Nice Candace. Good-hearted Candace.

What would she have done?

She would be sympathetic.
Everybody is the hero of their own story, Ian,
she had told me.
We all have our reasons, and while they may not be the best in the eyes of others, they still make sense in our own lives.

Okay, so the dude must have had a reason for getting his dick sucked. In the morning, once Candace left, I would go and find out exactly what that reason was.

And then I would force him to make things right. Tell him how to be the good guy in this, even though all I wanted to do was shake him.

And if he didn’t listen?

Maybe then I would punch him.

That was an appealing thought, and it made me smile.

Feeling like I had my shit together, I filled both glasses to the very top.
Cheers to being a nice guy,
I thought to myself.

Candace came out of the bedroom, dressed in one of my T-shirts. It was gigantic on her, stretching nearly to her knees, and she looked so fucking sexy that it was all I could do not to throw her back onto the bed.

“You’re dressed,” I complained, handing her a champagne flute.

“You’re not,” she giggled.

“I’m a little overheated right now,” I said, clinking my glass against hers. “Somebody gets me all hot and bothered.” I raised my glass. “Plus, the weather is getting warmer, and it’s too damn hot outside.”

“It’s March thirty-first,” she said. “It is not warm in the slightest.”

I grinned. “Whatever. Let’s toast. To us.” I said. “To your launch. To the playoffs. To winning.”

“To winning,” she grinned and took a sip. “Damn,” she sighed. “You have good taste in bubbly. This is going to go straight to my head.”

“That was my plan all along. To get you drunk and have my way with you.”

“You did it a little backwards then,” she giggled, then drained the rest of her glass. “Hoo!” she said. “That went down way too easy.”

I waggled my eyebrows at her.

“Watch your mouth, Carter or you’ll find I go down a lot harder next time.”

“I’m not saying a word, then.”

Candace sat down heavily on my couch. “You okay?” I wondered.

She leaned forward. “I’m just remembering that I barely ate anything at the party,” she said, cradling her head in her hands. “I’m feeling a little woozy. You have anything to eat?”

I went back and looked in my cupboards. “I haven’t had a chance to get groceries since I got back from being on the road. I’ll order a pizza.”

“At one in the morning?”

“Of course!”

I dialed my favorite place, where they knew my number on sight. Candace’s head lolled to the side and she closed her eyes as I gave the order, but then she popped back up once I ended the call. “How long?” she asked.

“Ten minutes.”

Her eyes widened. “How the hell did you get them to come so fast?”

I grinned. “They want to keep me happy, I’m a frequent customer.”

She smiled. “I fucking love you.”

“Say it again.”

She stood up and swayed over to me, draping her arms around my shoulders. “I said,” she stood on her tiptoes and kissed me, “that I love you.”

She loves me.

That incredible realization expanded in my head, crowding out all of the other thoughts that had been competing for space in my brain: Tim infidelity, Jake’s competitive weirdness, the looming playoffs. Nothing else mattered anymore. I would deal with all that later. Right now, Candace loved me, and I loved her, and there was nothing else that could compete with that.

“Good,” I told her, kissing her hard. “Because I love you.”

She reached down to close her hand around mine. “Hold that thought,” I told her. “I need to jump in the shower.”

“Boo, hygiene sucks.”

I laughed. “I’m an athlete. I’m used to hitting the showers after a workout like that.” I drained the last of my champagne. “If the pizza comes, you’re all set, I already paid.”

She flopped back onto the couch. “I hope I hear the door,” she murmured sleepily.

I kissed her forehead. “I’ll be out in like five minutes. Don’t go falling asleep on me now, I’ve got more training regimens we need to work on, Coach.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Candace

I heard the pipes groan and then the splash of the shower, but I didn’t see anything because my eyes were shut tight.

The room was spinning. I gripped the couch, and took a deep breath. When I told Ian I hadn’t eaten anything at the party, it was an understatement. In my nervous anticipation, I had completely missed lunch, too.

That champagne was hitting me, hard.

I sat for several moments, just breathing. Then I heard a very soft knock at the door.

“Oh thank God,” I breathed. “Food.”

I opened my eyes and made my way slowly and painstakingly to the door. After a few seconds of fumbling with the deadbolt, I finally managed to throw it open. “Thank God you’re…”

I trailed off.

A seemingly familiar woman straightened up from where she had been crouching, an envelope in her hand.

“Oh,” she said. “I thought no one was home.”

I swallowed weakly. I recognized her face.

“You’re Lisette,” I said, keeping my voice as even as I could. “You’re Ian’s ex.”

She straightened her shoulders, and looked down her nose at me. Then her shoulders slumped a little. “Yeah. I guess I
am
his ex.”

Be nice,
I whispered to myself. But something had jarred loose my sense of politeness. “I almost didn’t recognize you with your clothes on,” I said coldly.

She winced. “Okay, fair enough. I suppose I deserve that.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. This repentant behavior was completely different from the Lisette who had been waiting for Ian in his bed, naked and stretched out like some kind of buffet platter.

She glanced down at the envelope in her hand, and twirled it in her fingers. “It’s just, I read about the playoffs, and I was so, so proud of him, and it got me thinking…” She swallowed, and for a second I thought I saw tears glittering in her eyes just before she blinked rapidly. “I wrote him a letter,” she held up the envelope, “telling him how sorry I was.”

“Sorry?” I echoed, folding my arms across my chest and leaning against the doorframe. “You’re
sorry?
”

She nodded quickly. “Ian treated me well. He’s really a nice guy, if a little rough around the edges. What happened between us, that was totally my fault.”

“No shit,” I said, feeling my blood boil up defensively.

She nodded again. “This is the first step—I’m taking it right now. Apologizing to those I have hurt.”

I blinked. “First step.” Something slid in place in my blurry, confused brain. “You mean like AA?”

“NA, actually. Narcotics Anonymous.”

“What?”

“Ian never knew,” Lisette said, still staring at the envelope and refusing to meet my eyes. “Because I did it in secret, kept it from him, but I was using pretty heavily throughout our whole relationship.” She slumped against the wall and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I used
him
,” she said, shaking her head, “And I’ve tried a million different ways to justify why I did what I did, and I just keep coming back to the truth—
I used him.”
She sounded almost nauseous. “His money meant I always had a supply of junk flowing. I was completely out of my head, willing to do anything and everything to keep that money train going.” She chuckled ruefully. “But, junkies are stupid, even when they think they’re smart. And I thought I was being so, so smart, but he caught me.”