Learn Your Lesson: A Single Dad Hockey Romance (Kings of the Ice)

Chloe

So, here’s the thing about my little Reddit post.

It had gone viral.

What I assumed would get me a few sarcastic comments and maybe one or two real pieces of advice turned into thousands of people deeply invested in my little predicament.

They were especially intrigued after I detailed what happened in the pool last week.

I, of course, had been vague about everything and had changed certain specifics to protect myself.

In my story online, I lived in Wyoming. My boss was a rancher, and I was his ranch hand slash nanny. But I told the truth about what happened in the pool, about how I’d taken my friends’ advice to be bold and confronted my boss.

About he’d looked like he wanted to eat me right there.

In the good way.

The way one might want to eat a sleeve of Oreos after being on a sugar-free diet for years.

But he’d stopped it. He’d told me I knew what he wasn’t saying.

“We can’t,” he’d whispered against my hair after he’d kissed my forehead.

My fingers floated up to that spot like it still burned as I read through comments that had come in overnight.

It wasn’t just strangers online whom I confided in. No, the girls had asked for an update on Noah just a couple days after the pool incident, to which I’d replied that I’d made a move and he’d turned me down. They’d been content to let it go.

And since my list of friends outside of the new ones I’d made recently consisted of my mother and grandmother, who I knew would have very strong opinions on this matter, it had become my favorite part of each day, to pull up Reddit and talk to these wise strangers.

And at least the story I’d fabricated for them was a bit more similar to the truth.

The advice varied widely, from those telling me to let go of the fantasy and focus on my job, to those who were begging me to test the line with him again. Some swore I’d regret it if we hooked up, that I’d lose my job (which, I confessed in the post, was allowing me to save more money than I ever could have imagined in my life). Others swore that he wanted me just as much as I wanted him, and that if we gave in, we’d end up falling in love, getting married, and having a house full of babies.

I laughed at those — mostly because I knew that option was off the table for me.

I couldn’t fall in love. I couldn’t be in a relationship. I couldn’t have anything with Will Perry because my matriarchy would disown me.

And it might not have made sense to anyone else, but it meant everything to me to have their approval. It meant everything to me to work hard, save money, and provide for myself the way they wished they’d done. With the money I was earning right now, I was opening endless doors of opportunity.

I was close to being able to pay off what was left of my student loans.

And after that, I’d be setting myself up for an easy future — the one they’d always wanted for me.

I wanted to show them that I listened, that I learned from their mistakes, that I was an independent woman with her own career, income, house, and hobbies.

Falling in love with a hot NHL goalie who made more money than God was not the way to do that.

Which left me sighing a bit as I scrolled through the message board because I was racking my brain with one repeating question.

What did I want?

What did I actually expect and desire out of this situation?

I liked Will. He was grumpy, sure, and I was failing miserably at my attempt to make him smile. But I respected him. I admired how he was with his team, with Chef Patel, with his daughter, with me.

I also had never been so sexually frustrated in my entire life than I was after almost three weeks of living with him.

When I was at my little house, I rarely ever felt like this. Once in a blue moon I’d reach for my vibrator, and usually, I’d feel guilty afterward, like I’d committed the ultimate sin against my family and myself.

But here, it was all I could do not to hump my pillow every fucking night to the thought of my boss.

And I didn’t feel dirty about it. I felt… empowered. Especially after last week.

He wanted me, he just didn’t want to mess with what we had.

It made sense. He’d searched high and low for a nanny he could trust. He’d fought off a dozen women trying to get to him through Ava. I didn’t want to be added to that list. I didn’t want him to think even for a second that I was the same.

Because I wasn’t.

I didn’t want a ring or any kind of promise.

I didn’t want the fame or attention that came with being his girlfriend.

I just wanted him to touch me.

I wanted to know what it felt like to have those goalie hands on me. I wanted him to prove to me that not every man on this planet was as terrible as the one I let inside me in college.

I sighed, shaking off the thought and the pure impossibility of it as I scrolled through more comments at the kitchen island. I was standing, sipping on a glass of white wine and absentmindedly stroking Nacho’s soft fur where he was lounging on the counter. I was also debating deleting the thread and my username altogether. Clearly, no amount of advice was going to help me, because this was just one of those situations that there wasn’t a way out of.

I had the hots for my boss, and he evidently didn’t think I was too terrible to look at, either.

But we couldn’t go any further than that.

I lifted my wine glass to my lips, and then nearly dropped it when the sliding glass door of the pool house slid open so hard it hit the barrier and shook the whole place.

Nacho jumped and scrambled off the counter, paws skittering as he bolted for the bedroom. I saw another blur of gray fur follow him.

Panic gripped me by the throat, and I was already running through all the self-defense I’d learned over the years. I was one second away from breaking that wine glass over the counter so I’d have something sharp to work with when I realized it wasn’t a predator who’d burst in.

It was Will.

He stood in that opening like the god of war arriving at a battle, his eyes wild, hair blowing in the breeze, chest heaving. He stared at me for one long, hesitant moment, like he was about to turn around and storm right back out just the way he’d come in.

Instead, his fingers curled around the edge of the sliding glass door, his jaw flexed beneath the beautiful bronze skin stretched over it, and then he took a full step inside.

“Sit down,” he ordered, pointing at the dining table.

My pussy fluttered at that command as if he’d told me to drop to my knees and open wide.

I hastily shut my laptop, abandoning my wine and scurrying over to the table. I dropped down into a seat just in time to watch Will calmly, slowly, shut the sliding glass door behind him.

We were alone.

Like… truly alone.

Chef Patel had the night off. Ava was at a sleepover.

It was just me and him, and when he turned and slowly prowled closer, the air came alive with electricity and a delicious promise.

Will’s hair was still a bit damp from what I assumed was his post-practice shower. I was used to that look. I was used to his routine.

Except tonight, it looked a little more unruly, like he’d been dragging his hands through it in frustration.

My mind whirred the closer he came, and I tried to read his menacing gaze but found myself even more confused. I didn’t know if I was about to get fired or kissed senseless.

The first one made the most sense.

The latter one was what I prayed for.

He wrapped his fingers over the top of the chair across from me when he reached the table, taking a long, steely breath before he cracked his neck and sat down. Where I was ramrod straight in my chair, he kicked back in his, long legs stretching out and one finger drumming on the table as he assessed me like I owned something he was prepared to pay a hefty price for.

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

I balked.

Did he… did he really just ask what I think he did?

“Uh…” I stammered, truly concerned I’d misheard him.

“It’s a pretty simple yes or no question.”

“Then why does it feel like a trap?”

“It’s not.”

“You answer first.”

He flattened his lips. “Clearly, you already know my answer if I’m here asking you.”

“Maybe I want to be wooed. That wasn’t exactly a romantic declaration.”

“I don’t do woo and I don’t do romance, either. You want honesty? That I can do.”

He leaned over the table then, folding his massive hands together and leveling his gaze with mine. He spoke slowly, intently, with a rasp like every word burned on the way out.

“Yes, I want to fuck you, Chloe. Badly. So much so that I’ve fucked my hand every night since you’ve moved in and thought about you waiting on your knees when I came.”

Holy hell.

Those words were degrading. They were horrendous. They were the kind of filth that would have had my grandmother clutching her pearls and my mother slapping Will right across his handsome face.

But they did something else entirely for me.

My body erupted with chills that I didn’t even try to hide, and I swallowed, somehow holding his gaze even when I felt my entire body flush with heat. I was tempted to play with my hair, so I sat on my hands to keep from doing so.

“Your turn,” he said, and even though he’d just confessed to masturbating to the thought of me, he looked like he’d rather strangle me than get me naked. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

I blinked, my throat dry.

“I… this is just… I’ve never been asked quite so directly,” I stammered.

“I think we both know I’m not one to beat around the bush.”

I swallowed, nodding, and then held my chin as high as I could. “Yes,” I breathed. “I… do.”

“You do what?”

“I want to have sex with you.”

The words were a breathy, secret confession that felt as dirty rolling off my lips as any curse word I’d ever muttered in the presence of my grandmother.

For a moment, I wasn’t sure Will had heard me.

But then I saw it, all the small ways he reacted — the way his Adam’s apple bobbed, his hands gripping each other tighter, his nostrils flaring, eyes heating.

“Here’s the deal,” he said, and he stood, pacing like a businessman about to close on a billion-dollar merger. “Clearly, there is a mutual infatuation between us. I think it’s fair to say we’ve both felt this way for a while now.”

I smirked, folding my arms across my chest and leaning back in my chair.

I’d never seen this man so flustered.

I was very content to sit back and watch the show.

“But as you are well aware, I went through hell and high water to find a nanny who didn’t make me want to pitch myself off the nearest cliff. Ava adores you. I am beyond grateful for what you do for her, for me, for us as a family. And the last thing I want is for this arrangement to be put at risk due to us being stupid.”

I didn’t dare interrupt — mostly because I was highly entertained by watching him fumble his way through this.

“So, here’s what I propose,” he said, and he sat back down, back straight and eyes hard on me. “Sex. Only sex. Whenever we both consent to it and as long as it doesn’t interfere with Ava or our business arrangement in any way, shape, or form. No one can know. Not your friends, not my teammates, not Chef Patel, and most of all, not Ava. I need to know that will be enough for you, that you’re not secretly hoping for more than that. Because I can tell you, right now, that I can’t give it to you.”Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

Every time this man said the word sex, my body wound itself tighter and tighter. I felt like I might shatter into a thousand pieces if he said it one more time.

“I can do that.”

He blinked, as if he hadn’t heard me correctly. “You can… do that.”

I nodded, heart thundering with excitement that I tried to tamp down.

“You’re okay with just having a physical relationship, with no other ties, no other promises for more,” he said slowly.

“Yep.”

“This is not a relationship, and never will be,” he said again, like he was sure I hadn’t heard correctly.

“Good. I can’t date anyone, anyway.”

He frowned at that, opening his mouth like he wanted details on the can’t, but then he changed his mind.

His throat constricted, and he leaned forward just marginally over the table.

“No kissing.”

“No kissing,” I agreed, even though I very much wanted to kiss. I understood the boundary. Kissing was intimate — maybe even more so than having sex.

At least, I could imagine. Not that I’d know.

“And you can’t fall in love with me.”

“You can’t fall in love with me,” I repeated, heart hammering even at the thought. I could just hear my mom’s disappointment if I told her this job I’d taken to set up my future and stability turned into me being in a relationship I promised her there was no chance of.

Will almost smiled, his eyes lighting with curiosity. “You think I’d be the one to fall in love?”

“Obviously. Have you seen me?”

I gestured to my old, ratty pajamas that I’d sewn back when I first started learning, the pattern a god-awful, multi-colored tie-dye that deserved to die in the late 90s.

I needed a joke right now, because the heaviness in the room was enough to suffocate me.

Will’s eyes raked down the length of me, amusement in his eyes. But as per usual, he didn’t laugh. He didn’t smile.

He did grow quiet, though — hesitation furrowing his brows.

“I don’t want to be your friend, either,” he said.

His eyes met mine, serious and intent.

“I… I’ve been there before, and I can’t do it again. When I say this is just sex, I mean just sex.” He shook his head. “We have to stop talking about shit. I don’t want to tell you about my life, and I don’t want to know about yours.”

Those last words stung a little, but I shrugged them off.

“Great. I hate friends, anyway.”

Will tilted his head to the side. “You hate friends.”

“Yep. Isn’t that evident by my Friday night plans?” Again, I gestured to my surroundings. “I hear you, okay? No relationship. No friendship. Just sex.”

Anticipation surged through me as he grew quiet, as the questions died out, as that three-letter-word hung between us and dripped with temptation.

“You’re sure you can do this?” he asked, voice raw and restrained.

I prayed my giddiness wasn’t showing, that he couldn’t see how every inch of my being was on fire at the possibility of what could happen when I said yes.

“One-hundred-percent positive.”

Will’s eyes flicked between mine, searching for cracks, for any sign that I was lying.

I held my expression stone cold and unaffected, cocking a brow in a daring tease.

I could do this. I could be sexy. I could be a teasing, alluring goddess.

Because I finally had my answer.

This.

This was exactly what I wanted, what I needed, what I could handle.

There was no risk of falling in love. There was no risk of letting a man into my heart only to have him shatter it and leave me broken. There was no risk of disappointing my matriarchy, of following in their footsteps when they’d spent my whole life warning me against it.

I could keep my job, keep the money, keep the security.

Keep the power.

And yet, in the same breath, I could have what I’d always wanted.

I could feel what it was to be desired, to be touched and tasted by a real man. Those scenes I’d read in books and magazines, the passion I’d watched play out on television screens…

I could know what it was, even if just for the briefest moment of time.

It was the best of both worlds, and I saw that same realization dawning on Will’s face as he slowly stood, making his way around the table to tower over me.

My neck ached as I looked up at him, and his eyes roved over my throat, my collarbone, down to the gaping neckline of my camisole before he dragged his gaze back up to mine. One thick, long finger reached out, tracing the edge of my jaw as his breathing intensified.

“Tell me again that you can do this,” he husked, and it was both a plea and a last-ditch effort to get me to change my mind. I felt the doubt warring through him, saw how he was tortured both by the thought of walking away from me right now and by walking into a situation that would ruin us.

I pushed into his hand, into him as I stood, chin lifted, chest pressing against the bottom of his, eyes locked and sure.

His hand slid to my neck and his fingers curled around it, like he was ready to stop me and throw me off him if he had to.

Or like he was ready to grip and squeeze and control and own.

“I. Can. Do. This,” I breathed, punctuating each word by pressing more into his touch.

He let out a shaky exhale, jaw clicking with reserve.

That hand around my throat tightened with just enough pressure to make me moan.

The sound unleashed us both.

And with my blood pumping and heart galloping out of control, Will nudged his thigh between mine and rocked me into the table with enough pressure to bruise where the glass hit my lower back.

I inhaled a gasp at the feel of that thick, hot thigh right where I needed pressure, and Will ran his hand down the front of me, roughly palming my left breast before both his hands gripped my ass and rolled me against him.

My legs shook, another pathetic moan ripping from my throat.

So much better than my pillow.

“Goddamn, Chloe,” he husked, gripping my ass in two handfuls before he spanked me and groaned at my resulting gasp. “I’ve wanted to touch you like this for so long, to feel you pressed against me just like this.”

He made me roll against him again, and this time, I took over, loving the way it felt, needing more. I rocked and arched until my clit had the maximum pressure, and my eyes fluttered open on a moan just in time to see Will’s unrestrained appreciation.

He loosened his grip, letting me ride, wetting his lips and watching where I straddled his leg.

“Fuck,” he said, hands roaming up again until one palmed my breast through the thin fabric of my pajamas and the other tightened around my throat.

He forced me to look at him, and it felt both mortifying and hot as hell when I humped his leg again with my eyes locked on his.

“You can come just like this, can’t you?” he asked, meeting me thrust for thrust with the pressure I needed to drive closer. “Filthy fucking girl. Fucking my leg. I bet you’ve fucked your hand just like this and thought of me, haven’t you?”

I moaned and closed my eyes, unable to look at him as shame and desire made heat flood my cheeks. Why did I love this? My first time with a man, he’d been silent save for some very unattractive grunts and asking me do you like that two seconds before he came.

But this…

It was like Will saw what I didn’t, like he knew what to say without a word from me to confirm or deny. He was reading my body language, my moans and gasps.

“Don’t shy away now,” he said, squeezing my neck until I fluttered my eyes open once more. “Take it. Take your first one.”

First one?

I was still processing what that meant when Will licked a hot line along the slope of my neck, sucking my earlobe between his teeth and nibbling it as chills rocked through me.

“Your second one will be on my tongue,” he promised, his voice low and husky in my ear.

The words were so dirty, so hot. I gripped onto his shoulders and bucked against him, wild and hard, releasing whatever bit of shame was still holding on.

I didn’t know if this was a dream, a fantasy, or real life.

All I knew was that I didn’t want to stop.

Will groaned in my ear as I picked up the pace, and I held onto him like he was my lifeline, rocking and rolling against his thigh with my orgasm mounting more with every bit of friction I found.

“That’s it,” he praised, and when his teeth clamped down on my lobe again, I whimpered. “Ride my thigh like you want to ride my cock. Show me how good you’ll take me when I finally let you.”

Jesus Christ.

Those words in my ear. His voice hot and raspy and all-consuming.

I was riding wildly now, and Will must have enjoyed the view of my tits bouncing because he leaned back and pinned his lip with his eyes on my chest as I rolled my hips and tangled my hands in his hair.

I didn’t want to wake up.

I didn’t want to go back to not knowing what it would feel like to have his hands on me.

I didn’t want to abide by this stupid fucking no kissing rule, because as my climax crested, I wanted to moan into his mouth, I wanted him to muffle the embarrassing screams that were climbing out of my throat.

Instead, I dug my nails into his shoulders, violently shaking as blood rushed from every corner of my body right between my legs.

I came hard and fast and unbridled, closing my eyes and arching my neck and offering every scream up to the sky. It was an orgasm so familiar, just like the ones I found with my pillow, except hotter, deeper, more.

Will took control when I couldn’t move anymore, his hands locked on my ass and helping me ride him until I was completely fucking spent. When I was, I collapsed into him, breathing heavy, sweat slicking the back of my neck and chills sweeping over me when Will carefully rocked me once more against him.

“I love the way you look when you come,” he said.

The praise made me shiver again, and I felt drunk as I lifted my heavy gaze to meet his.

“I want to see that again.”

And then, showing he was even stronger than his muscles let on, he lifted me until I had no choice but to hold tight to his neck and wrap my legs around his waist.

His erection met my center, my pants wet and sticking to me, and he groaned at the proof of what he’d done as he carried me over to the kitchen island.

My backside landed on the cool stone top, and then he slapped the side of my ass.

“Lift.”

I pressed into my palms, and he tucked his fingers under the band of my pajamas and ripped them down in one fell swoop.

He peeled them off one leg and then the other, groaning when he saw that I didn’t have another layer underneath.

I should have been embarrassed. I should have clamped my knees together and winced at the fact that this man had me spread wide on a countertop with evidence that I’d just come by humping his leg right in his face.

Instead, I reached down into the deepest depths of my soul and tried to find confidence, to hold onto whatever it was I had that made Will Perry look at me the way he was right now.

Like I was beautiful.

Like I was sexy.

Like I was everything he wanted.

Be bold, I heard Livia say, and I embraced that with everything I had.

With his eyes devouring my body, Will wrapped those gargantuan hands around my thighs and tugged me hard until my ass hung off the edge of the counter and my hands shot out to grip whatever I could to keep me steady.

“So fucking wet after that,” he mused, and my soul left my body when he swiped one finger through where I glistened for him.

He didn’t penetrate me, just teased and played and watched where he touched me like he was committing every inch to memory.

My heart pounded like a drum.

I can’t believe this is happening.

I can’t believe this is happening.

Will looked up at me, his golden eyes dark and promising, his tongue jutting out to wet his lip.

And when he dropped his mouth to my pussy, I nearly passed out on the spot.