Dirty Score, A Rough Riders Hockey Novel (12 page)

One jerk and her panties snapped.

She startled and gasped. He moved his hands to the other side and did it again. Snap.

Mia started laughing. “Rafe.”

But then his hand slipped between her legs, and she siphoned a breath at the touch. Then he moved, and damn if Mia didn’t forget everything but the decadent glide of his fingers. She moaned and rocked against his touch.

So perfect. Slow and direct and thorough. Pleasure coiled tight between her legs. He was so damn good with his hands. His mouth. His cock…

He sat forward and pressed an openmouthed kiss to her throat. “This is all I could think about for the last two days,” he murmured against her skin, then moved to another spot and kissed. “Touching you is like coming home.”

She leaned her head into his and begged at his ear. “Please, Rafe…”

“Mmm, baby.” He turned his head and kissed the other side of her neck. “I missed you.” His tongue stroked a line to her earlobe, and he took it between his teeth, biting gently, then licking to soothe. “Come get it, Mia. Come take what you want.”

Knots of lust lined her spine, filled her stomach, and choked her heart. She fisted her hands in his blazer and used her knees to push his hand deeper and faster and harder. Whimpers and moans and random words spilled out of her. “Rafe, God. Mmm, so good.”

“I want you to come for me, Mia. I want you all wet and hot for me when I push inside you.” He closed his teeth at the base of her neck. The sting took her pleasure a notch higher. “Gonna feel ever perfect inch of you.”

The orgasm gripped her pussy like a fist. Her body shuddered hard, suffusing her with a stream of hot pleasure. Her brain evaporated in bliss, and she pressed her face to his shoulder, muffling her cry against his blazer.

Rafe held her tight with one arm, his face buried in the hollow between her neck and shoulder. It brought back memories of their night together and how he’d always drifted back to that place after sex. Breathing her in, kissing her pulse point as it raced.

When her body finally relaxed and Mia was panting against his shoulder, he slid his hand free of her body and sucked two fingers into his mouth. The sound of pure pleasure rolled through his throat, and his lips smacked. “Damn, you taste good.”

Heat rushed to her face, but it also rallied between her legs.

Without warning, Rafe clasped an arm around her waist and stood, carrying her with him. A sound of surprise popped from her mouth, and she automatically wrapped her legs and arms around him to hold on while he headed toward the guest room.

He kicked the door closed, pressed one knee to the bed, and laid her back, following her down. Then the real assault began, his mouth and hands almost frantic with passion. He pushed one strap of her dress off her shoulder, dragged the fabric clear of her breast, and covered her with his mouth, while his hips pressed between her legs.

He flooded her with desire and need. He loved her like there was nothing more important in the world. Nowhere he’d rather be and no one he’d rather be with. Tears pushed at her eyes again, but she didn’t know why. Her chest was so full, it ached.

She combed her fingers through his hair, loving the feel of the thick strands in her hands. Loving his weight pushing her into the mattress. Loving the spicy, male sent of him. The man made her delirious. She’d never wanted anyone like this. Never needed anyone like she needed Rafe.

Even knowing what a huge problem this would be in the very near future, all she could do was hold on tighter, denying reality. At least for a little while longer. Because right now, all she could focus on was his hands and mouth all over her body, setting her on fire.

He didn’t even bother shedding one thread of fabric before he slipped one hand between them and rubbed the head of his cock against her. Skin on skin.

“Oh…” she breathed.

“So sweet,” he groaned.

Propping himself up on his elbows, he stroked his fingers into her hair and cradled her head. Looking into her eyes, he thrust, pushing inside her. All Rafe. All heat. No barriers. And so damn good.

God, she still couldn’t quite believe she was with Rafe. Really with Rafe. She couldn’t begin to count the times she’d fantasized about this very moment. Yet the real thing was far more intense than she’d ever imagined. So much deeper than anything she’d had with any other man.

His eyes closed. Jaw clenched. And he echoed her thoughts. “So
sweet
.” He opened his eyes, and the fire there sparked in Mia’s gut. “Mia. God, Mia.”

He pulled out and thrust again—long, slow, and deep. The decadent stretch of him filling her made her mouth drop open, made her fingers curl into his shirt. She wanted him naked. Wanted to do this all night.

“Baby,” he said, breathless, pressing his forehead to hers, “I can’t believe…
how fucking…good
you feel.”

Mia reached lower, slid her hands beneath his clothes, and gripped his ass, pulling him into her while she tilted her pelvis to take him deeper.

He growled, eyes falling closed. The heat of his cock burned inside her. His hands tightened in her hair, and he kissed her—deeply, hungrily. And just kept kissing her. Like he’d never get enough. Like he could kiss her for hours.

And as much as she wished they had hours, they didn’t.

“More,” she told him, rocking her pelvis back to draw him out, loving the drag against her walls. “Give me more, Rafe.”

He exhaled, opened his eyes, and they burned into hers. “Baby, I’m not gonna last…”

“You don’t have time to last.” Every minute that passed ticked down to the moment when Tate would return. “And I need more.”

He growled, but delivered with long, deep, steady thrusts that pushed Mia toward climax with shocking speed. All while keeping his eyes focused on hers. His expression so primal, so intense he burrowed into her heart and drove her body toward ecstasy.

“Yes, yes, yes…” Her nails dug into the muscle of his ass. A tight, muscled ass that flexed and released on every thrust. His hair fell out of that hastily gelled, negligent bad-boy style and fell into his eyes. Sweat glistened on his forehead. God, she wished she could memorize him. Right this second. Memorize him and save that memory as clearly as if she were in the moment.

“Baby,” he murmured. “I never want to stop. Want to stay inside you forever.”

His passion rose and his thrusts came harder and faster, but he never broke eye contact. That one simple act made the sex even more intense. More intimate. So consuming, she felt like he crawled into her soul.

“God,” he growled through clenched teeth. “The way you squeeze me is
heaven
. Want to feel you gush all over me, Mia. Come for me, baby. Want to feel you come, Mia.”

She responded as if his words had control over her body. Two more thrusts and her climax burst deep in her pelvis. She clenched as the vise of pressure exploded. One burst of pleasure after another. Arching her back. Forcing sounds of ecstasy from her mouth.

Before the last shudder rocked her body, Rafe curved his arms around her, and, holding himself deep inside her, he straightened, pulling her back to straddle across his lap. Her body weight and lax muscles allowed him to push so deep, the sensation closed her throat. The way his pelvis pressed against her in this position pushed her toward another orgasm before the last had even left her body.

His other hand slid into her hair and cradled her head, holding her gaze to his. “That is so hot,” he said between heavy breaths. “I can’t even tell you. Need it again. Come for me again, Mia.”

Even though she was sure she couldn’t climax again, Rafe proved her wrong. With one strong arm wrapped at her hips, he held her steady as he pulled out. Then dragged her body to meet his as he lifted. Every thrust forced a cry of pleasure from Mia’s throat. And every thrust was punctuated by Rafe’s rough words from behind clenched teeth.

“
So.
”

Thrust.

“
Fucking
.”

Thrust.

“
Good.
”

Hard and fast and deep, he hammered and hammered. “Come on, baby. Give it to me again. Can’t get enough. Can’t fucking get enough.”

Rafe didn’t just thrust with his ass. Rafe angled back on his thighs and leveraged the entire powerhouse that was his posterior chain of muscles to lift into the drive. His cock plunged until their bodies slammed, acting like a hammer on a nail, driving the head of his cock against that spot she’d discovered for the first time in bed with him.

“Oh
God
.” The pleasure was so intense, it was almost too big to grasp.

“
Yes.
Bring it, Mia. Look at me.” His hand tightened on her face. “Look at me, Mia. I want it all. Give it to me, baby.”

He thrust harder. Faster. Lifting her body with the forward momentum, then letting her fall back on his cock in a mind-bending rhythm.

The first orgasm blasted through her like lightning, so sharp it bordered on painful. “
Ah…
”

It ripped through her body, leaving her shaking. And on the heels, another surged like waves on the shore. She held tight as another orgasm crashed. “Oh my God.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Rafe rasped, his voice wickedly pleased. “Don’t stop, Mia. So wet. So hot. Never been this good. Come, Mia. Come again.”

But she no longer had a choice. Her body wasn’t her own anymore. It belonged to Rafe. She let her head fall against his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his neck to hold on while his hips lunged, his cock plunged, and thrill after thrill hammered her. And instead of hearing her own voice begging for more, Rafe’s lips murmured at her ear, “Don’t stop, baby. God
dam
n, Mia. So good. So fucking good. Give me more.
Give. Me. More.
”

Layer upon layer upon layer of ecstasy swamped Mia. Her vision blurred. Her body shook and shivered and broke. Each orgasm different from the last. And Rafe whispering, “Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.” in her ear.

By the time Rafe’s climax broke, Mia’s body was coiled tight. He drove deep on a guttural growl, and his hips pulsed through the orgasm. His warmth exploded inside her, spilling through her pelvis, and tipped her over the last ledge.

Shaking with fatigue, Mia floated slowly back to reality. Basking in the experience of finally completely giving herself over to a man she loved with everything she had. Everything she was.

As the present seeped back into her brain, Rafe stroked rough fingertips along her spine. His heavy, quick breaths sounded in her ear. His heart pounded hard against hers.

Then his breathless voice, thick with residual desire, murmured, “Fuck. I never knew…it could be like this…”

His revelation choked a sound from her—part laugh, part sob.

She’d never known she could love like this. This was what all her exes had been looking for. Waiting for. This was what she’d never been able to give.

Only to finally find
The One
, knowing that keeping him meant alienating everyone truly important in her life. In Rafe’s life. In their life, together.

S
weat drenched Rafe’s body
. His thighs ached. Lungs burned. But his goal was within sight. So close he could taste it. Taste the salty, coppery tang on his tongue.

Score. Score. Score.

Rafe swung into the turn at the corner of the rink with a Bruin headed on a trajectory to intercept. But as the other player rushed to meet Rafe, Rafe leaned back, slowing at the last second and collecting the puck to protect it. The Bruin’s skates cut across Rafe’s path, just inches from his blades. Inches that gave Rafe the space he needed to pass to Andre.

Andre swooshed a circle around another Bruin and passed to Tate.

And Tate hammered the puck deep into the net.

Score.

Adrenaline surged through Rafe, the game now three-two with the Rough Riders in the lead at the beginning of the third period.

All five players punched a triumphant fist in the air and skated to each other for congratulatory hugs. After tapping gloves with their teammates on the bench and getting kudos from their coach, Tremblay traded Rafe, Tate, and Isaac out of the line.

This was game four in the battle for the East Coast conference title. They had to win to play for The Cup.

“
Y
ou are killin’ it tonight
,” Tate told him, following Rafe to the bench. “You’ve touched every fucking goal.”

Two goals and one assist out of the three total. Yes, Rafe was on motherfucking fire. Again. Thanks to Mia.

He couldn’t have killed the grin on his face even if he’d gotten jammed into the boards headfirst—like he had in the first period, which had earned Rafe eight stitches underneath one eye.

Even with sweat stinging the cut, he turned his smile on Mia where she sat in the stands nearby. She was sitting with Joe, just three rows up from the ice tonight. Rafe loved knowing she was watching him kill it. Loved having her eyes on him.

He picked up a bottle, squirted water into his mouth, and glanced at Tate. When Rafe found him talking to Hendrix, he cut another look toward Mia.

She was already looking at him, and the second their gazes collided, all sorts of tugs and twists tortured his guts. Sitting on the edge of her seat, leaning forward, she had her elbows on her knees and her chin in her palm. And she was smiling. Right at him. The kind of smile that made his insides tighten and sing. And while her smile grew to show perfectly straight, white teeth—courtesy of Joe—Rafe was already wondering how and where he could maneuver a situation to get her alone tonight. He’d sure love to expend all his adrenaline on Mia.

But if they won, everyone would be headed to owner’s home after the game to celebrate their victory.

Cheers from the stands pulled Mia’s gaze back to the ice. Rafe glanced that direction and found Kilbourne fighting to get the puck around the goalie. When the puck started down the ice again, he returned his gaze to Mia, but she was talking to Joe.

Her move to California snuck into his thoughts. Something he’d been trying to ward off because it messed with his head and his heart. He couldn’t ask her not to go. But if she moved to California, he knew the gains they’d made in their relationship would be lost.

Then he thought of all the other things keeping them from giving this thing between them their all. Remembered Tate’s fury when he’d thought Rafe had slept with Mia. Heard Joe calling the three of them “his kids.” Then the past filtered in—all the tutoring Joe had gotten Rafe in school, the equipment he’d bought for Rafe, Tate’s special coaching Joe had paid to let Rafe join, the hockey camps he’d paid for Rafe to attend. Tate would know Rafe had lied to his face about it. Joe would hear about it. All the trust Tate had in him, all the pride Joe felt… It would all disintegrate when they found out he’d slept with Mia.

Rafe took another drink of water and pushed all that from his mind. He had to focus through this third period. He’d talk with Mia about this later.

He turned to Tate and asked, “Are Mia and Joe coming to the party tonight?”

“You know Dad, never turn down a chance to bullshit with—”

A Bruin slammed Andre into the half wall separating the bench from the rink. Sticks and limbs went flying. Rafe leaned back and covered his face with his forearm to protect his stitched eye, so he didn’t see whose punch missed Andre and hit Rafe in the shoulder.

Anger roared through Rafe, and he pushed to his feet. “What the fuck?”

Play had all but stopped while the Bruins’ defenseman bent Andre backward over the half wall. He had Andre’s jersey bunched in one hand, the other curled into a fist and hauled back. A few other players piled on the guys from behind and the momentum pushed Andre and the Bruin over the wall, still skirmishing. The Bruin pinned Andre to the ground and set up for that punch again.

Rafe launched his own hand just in time to catch the Flier’s fist in his palm, inches from Andre’s belligerent expression, and twisted the guy’s wrist. Not enough to damage him, just enough to make a point.

“Watch your back, fucker,” Rafe said, glaring the other guy down. “’Cause I’m bigger than him, I’m meaner than you, and I’m back on the ice in ninety seconds.”

Tate hauled the Bruin off Andre by the shoulder pads just as the refs closed in. To avoid a penalty, Tate acted like he was helping the Bruin up. “There you go, buddy. Got your feet under you now?”

The Bruin climbed back over the wall and glided to center ice.

Rafe offered his hand to Andre. His teammate took it as he got to his feet.

“Thanks,” Andre said with his thick Russian accent and that dorky smirk of his. “Now I not look like you when I go home.”

Andre wind milled his legs over the half wall and hit the ice. Play continued, and Rafe relaxed again, a little rattled by his show of aggression. That wasn’t who he was. He handled his own fights on the ice, but he didn’t get involved in others’.

“You are in fine form tonight, man.” Tate grinned from his seat beside Rafe on the bench, and the sight of his friend’s familiar ease loosened some of Rafe’s stress. But in the next moment, guilt wiped the ease away. A little distress leaked in too. Claiming Mia meant losing his lifelong friendship with Tate.

“Did you clear the air with Mia last night?” he asked. He and Tate had both been busy with workouts and training since they’d arrived at the rink, and Rafe hadn’t gotten a chance to ask.

“She was asleep when I got home,” Tate said. “I’ll talk to her tonight.”

Rafe wasn’t surprised. He was pretty sure she’d been asleep by the time he’d pulled the covers over her before he’d left her last night.

“What’d you do after Dad and I dropped you off?” Tate asked, that suspicious you-got-lucky-didn’t-you grin lifting his mouth. “Or should I ask
who
did you do?”

Alarm stung Rafe’s gut. Luckily—or not, depending on how he looked at it—the refs called a penalty on the Rough Riders, which meant he and Tate were going back in for the penalty kill. While the four stripes talked over the punishment, Rafe stuck one end of his mouth guard between his teeth as he stood and adjusted a glove, ignoring Tate’s question. His assumption wasn’t out of left field. Before Mia, Rafe had a pattern of ending a game night by picking up a hot puck bunny and expending his adrenaline horizontally.

“Whoever she is, she really does it for you, man,” Tate said, standing next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “You ought to think about holding on to her through the playoffs and into the Cup if we get there, because she sure as shit does you like nobody’s done you in a while.”

Rafe frowned at Tate. “What are you talking about?”

“You. This.” Tate gestured the length of Rafe. “You saw her again, didn’t you? The same chick you saw the night before you shot your hat trick?”

Rafe’s mouth dropped open to deny it, but he hesitated, wondering if he should just play it off as if he were seeing someone, just someone
else
.

Tate took his silence as affirmation and laughed. “I knew it. You haven’t had this much
Savage
in you in months. She really clears your head. You were a mess in the last few games. And we’re going to need all the Savage you can pull together to get to the Cup.”

Tate refocused on the ice and adjusted his helmet, and Rafe realized Tate knew him even better than he’d thought.

“You’ve got her, use her. That is your gift,” Tate said, his cynical side coming out. His view of women had changed one hundred and eighty degrees since Lisa had screwed him over. “And hell, it’s only for another couple weeks. Even you could stick with a woman that long. Only a couple of weeks.”

Rafe had no idea what to say to that.

They slid onto the ice and set up for a face-off with Tate muttering, “Shit, bro,
pay
her if you need to. The way you play after you do her is totally worth it.” He grinned at Rafe. “Look at it as an investment.”

“Shut up, Donovan.”

Tate swung in an arc, bent his knees, and readied for the play, grinning at Rafe. “Just sayin’. Anything for the Cup, right?”

For the Cup.

Rafe really didn’t care about the Cup. He wasn’t like the other guys who’d coveted the Cup since they first stepped onto the ice as kids. But he sure didn’t like the way Tate was referring to Mia. And if Tate knew he was talking about his own sister, Rafe would be bleeding out on the ice right now.

Tate’s perspective only clarified just how impossible it would be for him to accept Rafe and Mia together. But it also made him wonder if that was how Mia saw their relationship. Did she think that was the way Rafe saw her? Nothing more than another one of his hookups? Surely, she couldn’t really believe she was just another puck bunny to him.

Could she?

A fist of dread squeezed his gut.

“Play desperate, boys.” Tremblay’s order from the bench pulled Rafe’s thoughts back to the moment, and he threw all his frustrated anger into the last minutes of the game.

* * *

M
ia knew
both Rafe and Tate were vying for their chance to talk to her alone, so she made sure to keep someone close by at all times. She wasn’t ready to have a conversation with either of them. So she smiled and nodded as Nika, Andre’s adorable young wife, talked about her two-year-old, Dmitri, while her hand lay on her pregnant belly.

“You won’t have to count me in the pool of people bothering you for jerseys,” she said, her Russian accent milder than her husband’s. “I’ll have baby weight to lose before I buy anything new.”

“You look gorgeous,” Mia told her. “I’ll just add panels to the sides of the jersey to fit your belly, then take them out when you’re back to your normal size.”

Andre came up beside his wife and slipped a hand around her waist. “Are you ready to go,
kisa
? I promise Dmitri I read to him before bed.”

They said good-bye to Mia, and she hastily pivoted to join Eden as she ended a conversation with a couple of puck bunny dates accompanying other team members tonight.

Eden sighed and met Mia’s gaze. “Oh, yay. Someone I can have an intelligent, meaningful conversation with. Faith told me about your move. I’m so excited for you, but I’m sad for us. We’ll miss you. Will you be able to get back here for some of the games and the holidays?”

Another weight piled on the mountain of weights already on her heart. “Thank you. I’m not really sure. I don’t know what to expect at this job, but I hope so.”

“Well, tell me all about it. I haven’t been a
Wicked Dawn
fan, but that’s going to change now that I know you’re working on the costumes.”

Mia let her tension ebb as she told Eden about the job. And her own excitement for the future rose in tandem with the people she told, all of whom were overjoyed for the next step in her career. All except Tate and Rafe.

The thought of Rafe tied her stomach right back into a knot. She cast a quick look at him where he sat lazily on the arm of a sofa, two young women chatting with him. Two beautiful women. Beautiful, young women whose body language expressed keen interest in Rafe.

She forced her gaze and her mind back to Eden. “Tell me about the wedding plans. Have you and Beckett set a date? I’ll definitely put in for vacation so I won’t miss it.”

“No date yet. We’re letting Lily settle into the idea of all of us living together for a while.”

“I bet that was your idea, not Beckett’s. I hear he can’t tie the knot soon enough.”

Eden grinned, and when she spoke again, she lowered her voice. “Let’s talk about what’s going on with you and this rumor about Rafe.”

Her stomach chilled. “What rumor?”

“What do you mean what rumor? The one that gave him that black eye. I’m glad his stitches ended up on the other side of his face tonight, but it does sort of make him look like an MMA master.”

Mia laughed and glanced at him again. He was smiling at something the women were saying. “Probably one of the reasons he gets so many women.”

“He does have quite the reputation of a playboy,” Eden said, following Mia’s gaze. “But in my experience, that doesn’t mean they aren’t looking for the one woman who can make them want to throw in that towel.” She turned her gaze back to Mia, wearing a big smile. “It also makes them pretty damned incredible in bed.”