The Romance Line (Love and Hockey Book 2)

Max

By my estimates I have twenty minutes before I have to be on the team bus that’ll take us to the airport. Every second counts. It’s only fair that I let Everly know why I showed up in the media room tonight. The equipment room seems as good a place to inform her as any. “Come with me,” I tell her, as I step into the room full of sticks, pads, and skates.

“You have to leave any second,” she says, concern in her brow as she stands in the doorway.

“But not yet. Now come inside.”

“So bossy,” she says, as I reach for her hand. She places it in mine and I tug her inside.

I close the door. I can’t wait a second longer to know. “Did you wear the underwear?”

She jerks her gaze behind her, as if she can check for eavesdroppers, stragglers, anyone in the hallway beyond.

But I’m not stupid, and I wouldn’t hurt her by talking this way in front of her co-workers or mine. The hallway’s empty now, plus the door is shut. “I’m paid a lot of money for these eyes. I already checked to see if anyone was around before I pulled you in here,” I try to reassure her, then return to the pressing matter—the one I can’t get out of my head. “Did you wear them?”

She lifts her chin, a little saucy as she asks, “What do you think?”

She’s still not answering me, and it’s driving me wild. I try one more tactic— assuming . “You wore them.”

She moves to the wall, leaning against it, right next to a long row of cubbies holding gear. Dropping her purse to the floor, she bobs a shoulder, giving me a you’ll never know smile. “I guess you’ll just have to wonder the whole time you’re out of town,” she says coquettishly, and I deserve all her taunts.

But as much as I could chase the high score on our banter leaderboard all night, I legit need to talk to her. I let go of the games we play, asking seriously, “Do you have a sec? It’s important.”

Her expression shifts instantly, her sass vanishing. She straightens. “Sure.”

She’s been trying so hard for so long. I need to make some effort too, so I meet her gaze with a serious one of my own. I drag a hand through my hair, taking a breath. “Listen, I know I kind of surprised you back in the media room.”

“It wasn’t a bad surprise,” she says, then winces. “But I’m really sorry that everyone started going after you so quickly. I tried to stop them the second they did.”

I hold up a hand, exonerating her from the barrage of questions I tuned out. “They barely even registered. I had a one-track mind in there. ”

She smiles. “I noticed. That was incredibly impressive, how you shut them all down.”

“All that time not talking makes me kind of immune to their questions. I said what I wanted to say tonight. And I noticed you recording it. You’re going to put it on my The Real Max Lambert , right?”

“I’d like to. We do have to keep feeding that beast.”

“Then toss it into the maw.”

“Thank you.” With genuine excitement in her eyes, she adds, “I love the clip of you saying you’ve got a great group of teammates. You have their back and they have yours. I know it might seem too practiced and too much of a PR answer, but that’s okay. That’s exactly what I’ve been wanting. Just something from you to put you out there, for fans to start seeing you. And I definitely need content for that.”

“I’m glad it’ll work,” I say, pleased I could make her life easier for once.

Her gaze is etched with curiosity as she asks, “What made you do that tonight? Talk to them?”NôvelDrama.Org: text © owner.

I do want to tell her the real reason. She deserves to know. But I’m still a little hung up on something. A lot hung up. And the cocky jerk in me has the wheel right now. “So, are you going to tell me? Did you say yes to the underwear?”

She rolls her pretty eyes. “You’re still asking me that?”

I fucking love that she never lets me off easily. “I’m not going to stop asking. Tell me, Everly.”

“I thought last night was a one-and-done thing,” she says, but she inches closer to me.

“I’m not doing anything. Just asking,” I insist.

“Right. Sure.” She arches a playful brow .

“I just want to know,” I say, leaning in so we’re inches apart, letting her catch a hint of my cologne.

The moment it hits her is clear. It’s in the quiet gasp she tries to hide but fails to. A tiny murmur seems to escape those lush lips. Still, she tries to up the ante in our game, saying, “Guess.”

Now we’re getting somewhere. But because we are, I need to be careful. I dart away from her and close the distance to the door a few feet away, locking it then returning to her. My eyes roam up and down her body. “You have them on, don’t you?”

She tilts her head, her blonde ponytail swishing against her shoulder. “Since you did something big for me, I’ll answer you—yes. I do.”

A rumble works its way up my chest and past my lips. “And I just wanted to thank you for wearing them then,” I say.

She laughs. “That’s why you talked to the press? Me wearing the lingerie you sent me inspired you to talk to the media? I guess if I’d known all along it was that easy…”

“You wouldn’t have promised me a limo once upon a time?”

She shakes her head playfully. “Not now that I know your weakness.”

But I correct her. “Your eyes,” I say, looking into those deep brown pools. “Like I told you earlier. Your eyes are my weakness. Your eyes are my undoing.”

Her breath hitches, but she lifts a doubtful brow since she’s not won over easily. “Are my eyes your weakness or is it the royal blue panties?”

Jesus. She is my weakness. I can’t hide the truth anymore. “It’s not just the panties. Did I love it? Fuck yes. But that’s not why I talked tonight.”

“Why then?”

“Because of you. How hard you work,” I say, my tone one hundred percent serious. This is why I waited for her tonight. “I needed you to know that. The real reason I pulled you into the equipment room is to tell you what hit me tonight right outside the tunnel. When you told me the press made bets on me. You— you, Everly —have to put up with that shit all the time from them. And you have to put up with me. All of a sudden, I understood what you’ve been dealing with from their side—not just mine. But in the press box too. You’re tough and strong, and you have been putting up with so much. It only seemed fair that I do this for you.”

Her lips part in a slow, sweet smile. “Max,” she says softly, like she’s genuinely touched. “Thank you. That really means a lot to me.”

Ah, fuck. My heart lurches toward her. She cares so much. More than I expected. “You really want this to work, don’t you? This makeover?”

“I do,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “Maybe this sounds silly, but I made a promise when Marie…died,” she says, taking a breath, steeling herself perhaps as she sets a hand on the edge of the shelf full of helmets next to her, “to try to live my best life. To work hard, to do good, to appreciate everything I have—my friends, my job, my…body.” Something about that last word seems to knock her off-kilter. And it’s like she needs a moment. But she pushes on. “To reach for the moon. To be an example. And I want to be excellent at everything I do.”

“You are,” I say, so damn impressed by her. “You’re powerful and strong. ”

“You’re strong too. It took a lot of guts to talk to the press tonight.”

I wave a dismissive hand. “Nah. Just some drugs.”

“What? You’d better not be on drugs.”

I wiggle a brow. “I think I’ve been a little high all day long.” I pause, locking eyes with her. “On you.”

“Stop it,” she whispers, but it’s playful and seems to say go on .

Here in the equipment room, surrounded by helmets, sticks, pucks, pads, and all kinds of gear, I reach for her hair, stroking the ends of the ponytail. “I have not been able to stop thinking about what it was like to kiss you.”

“Max, you really shouldn’t do this. I really shouldn’t do this,” she says, but she reaches for my shirt collar, her nimble fingers playing with it.

“I know,” I admit. Neither one of us stops touching the other.

“Things are intense here at work. I found out today Elias is competing for the promotion now, and it’s tougher,” she says with a sigh.

A dose of protectiveness rockets through me. “The guy who looks like he’s twelve? The one who’s always asking us to sign hockey sticks to give away during the intermissions? It’s not just me that he asks—he asks all the guys all the time.”

She laughs lightly. “That’s him. He used to play in college too. Which he likes reminding me of.”

“Fuck him. He doesn’t deserve the job. You do.”

“It doesn’t even matter. He used to play. He’s got connections. His uncle’s the general counsel, and I don’t want to be the…” She doesn’t finish the thought but it’s clear what she means—she doesn’t want to be the woman who’s getting silky gifts from one of the players .

I think about her dilemma for a minute, but I don’t have any useful answers. There’s nothing I can do right now anyway. I’ve got my own problems. “I wish it weren’t like this either,” I say heavily.

I wish, too, I didn’t need her so much right now in my professional life. But there’s a message on my phone from my agent telling me he’s proud of me for saying something to the media tonight. There’s an image of the bagel of the day. There’s a memory of the injury in my rookie season that could have been so much worse.

But there’s something else I need to say tonight to her too. Something important. I let go of her hair, and she drops her hand from my collar. “You’ve been trying to do your job for over a year, and I’ve been an asshole.”

She tilts her head, her smile kinder than I deserve, considering how I’ve railroaded her. “But that’s not who you are. You’re not a jerk. You’re kind of soft underneath.”

I growl. “Pro tip: do not ever call a man soft.”

She rolls her eyes, then sets a hand on my chest like she’s feeling my heart beating under her palm. Hell, I can feel it speed up as she spreads her fingers across the fabric of my shirt, then says, “I’ve seen you with your nephew. You’re soft when it matters. And thank you in advance for trusting me.”

I didn’t trust her for a long while. But things have changed now that I’ve gotten to know her. I’ve seen her heart, her passion, and her hope for the future. “I do trust you, Everly. I didn’t when we started this, but I do now.”

Her smile deepens, touches someplace inside me that’s rarely touched. “I’m glad,” she says.

I should say goodnight to her. I should leave this room. I should get on that bus. But a glance at my watch tells me there are twelve more minutes before we have to leave.

My gaze swings down to her pants, then back up to her face. “I really want to see how you look in them,” I say in a needy rasp.

She’s quiet for several seconds before she whispers, “Do you want me to send you a picture later?”

More than I want my next breath . “Yes,” I say in a rough demand. But I know that won’t be enough to satisfy me. I tip my chin toward her. “Give me a sneak peek now.”

She doesn’t need any convincing. As she stands against the wall in her trim slacks, heels, and blouse, her right hand slides down to the waistband and she’s unbuttoning then unzipping and…I groan.

How does she get sexier by the day? I didn’t know that feat was possible, but Everly Rosewood pulls it off. Here, surrounded by gear, with a fluorescent light flickering overhead, Everly unzips her slacks, spreads the waistband open, and shows me the beautiful blue lace.

It’s just a tease, but in a second my chest is a furnace. My dick is a telephone pole. “It’s almost better than if you were in my jersey,” I rasp out.

She drags her teeth across the corner of her mouth then murmurs, “Bet this is better.”

In slow motion, she slides her hand inside her panties, and I think I might combust. I am nothing but one frayed, red-hot nerve as her hand disappears then emerges. She lifts it, steps close to me, presses her index finger to my mouth, and brushes my lower lip with the taste of her wetness. As I lick my lips, I shoot out a hand, grip the back of her neck, and drag her close. Then I growl. “Give me one fucking kiss for the road, and then I swear I’ll forget you. ”

She seals her sweet mouth to mine, giving me a hot, deep, wet kiss that pretty much ensures I’m never going to forget her.

When she lets go, she zips her slacks and tucks in her blouse, but makes no move to leave. Her eyes gleam with something naughty. Something risqué. Don’t know what. But I want to. “We’re not even, Max.”

I furrow my brow. She must mean about the press somehow. “We don’t have to be even about me talking to the media,” I say.

She shakes her head. “That’s not what I mean. I know we said it was a one-and-done last night but the thing is…” Her expression turns flirty. “We didn’t really finish.”

“Sunshine, you finished twice. All over my fingers and all over my face.”

She blushes and it’s a beautiful shade, but then she shakes her head. “But you didn’t.”

Before I even have time to process her words, Everly grabs my shoulders, spins me around, and pushes me against the wall. She gives me the naughtiest look as she drops down to her knees, asking, “Why don’t I give you another kiss for the road?”

My voice is sandpaper as I groan, “Fuck yes.”

She runs the tip of her tongue along her teeth as she unbuttons my slacks. I help her along, unzipping them. Her quick hands tug on the waistband of my black boxer briefs, pulling them down, freeing my aching cock.

The second she takes me out, those brown eyes of hers light up with a wicked sort of delight. “Looks even prettier than I imagined.”

I blink, shock and desire radiating through me. “You imagined my dick? ”

She’s the pleased one now, nodding as she stares at my hard length. “The way you taste too.”

It’s a miracle I don’t come right now. This is going to take me all of ninety seconds. I run a hand down her glossy ponytail. “Show me. Show me how fucking beautiful you look sucking my cock.”

She doesn’t need any instruction from me because she’s already parting her pretty lips. She stares up at me as she flicks her tongue across the head. I grunt at the beautifully filthy sight of this woman on her knees.

Sliding her hands up my thighs, she opens wider, her mouth warm and wet, inviting me in. The clock is ticking, but she doesn’t rush. She gives me exactly what she promised.

A kiss on my dick.

And it lights up every cell in my body. She caresses the crown of my cock with her lush lips, then lavishes attention with her tongue.

My eyes roll back in my head. It’s fucking incredible, and she’s barely touched me. I force myself to keep my eyes open because there is nothing better than this view. She lets my cock fall from her mouth only so she can brush her lips down my shaft—one side, then the other.

With her left hand, she grips my thigh tighter. With her right, she reaches for my balls, cupping them.

“Fuck, baby,” I groan, unbidden.

She follows that kiss with a long, lingering stroke of her tongue, from base to tip and back again.

“What are you doing to me?” I murmur.

She smiles as she licks my dick adoringly, then whispers, “Just a goodbye kiss.”

And I want it. Dear god, do I fucking want it. I want everything she’s giving me. I don’t want to stop her either just because the clock is ticking. Hell, I’ll miss the flight for this blow job. I’ve never had one like this before.

Where she’s lavishing open-mouthed caresses on my dick that make me feel like a king.

A king who really wants to come though.

But she must read my mind because she gives my balls a quick squeeze, then inhales my dick.

“Oh fuck,” I rasp out as my cock slides past her beautiful lips and hits all the way to the back of her throat.

She lets go of my thigh and reaches for my watch, tapping it. Doesn’t need to tell me twice to speed it up. “Can I fuck your mouth?” I ask urgently.

Her eyes glint as she nods. She sets to work sucking in deep and hard while I do my part, thrusting into the paradise of her wet, warm mouth.

“You’re a fucking goddess,” I say as pleasure rockets through me.

I can barely stand how good it feels. My thighs shake. My muscles tense. I tug on her hair. “Always wanted to do that,” I murmur.

For a brief second, she drops me. “Do it again.”

“Yeah?”

She gives me a filthy smile. “Say yes and all. So I’m saying yes to you fucking my throat and pulling my hair.”

And I’m saying yes to the hottest words ever spoken on Earth. I gather her silky hair in my fist and give it a jerk as I thrust.

She coughs.

I pull out. “Want me to stop?”

She scoffs, then gives me the sexiest look ever. “No. I want you to fuck my mouth like I have no gag reflex. ”

Lust rattles down my spine. “You’re perfect,” I say, shoving my dick back in her mouth and tugging on her hair.

As I fuck her throat, the open neckline of her blouse slides over, exposing some of her collarbone and the lacy strap of a pale peach bra, as well as what looks like the edge of a red, raised scar.

I can barely see the scar, and can barely register the mark either since my brain’s short-circuiting. I grunt out a coming warning. As my legs shake, I fight off an outrageously loud moan of pleasure as I come down her throat. She looks up at me, shaking her head with my dick still between her lips, her eyes saying be quiet as she swallows my release.

“Sunshine, your mouth is heaven,” I say in a rumble when she lets me fall from her lips.

She runs a hand across her mouth and rises. Adjusts her blouse. Leans in to press a kiss to my lips. “Now we’re even.”

But she’s wrong. I’m not sated. I’m not sure I could ever be satisfied that I’ve had enough of Everly. I want her more every fucking hour. I wrap a hand around her head, pressing a kiss to her lips then letting go, running my hand along her collarbone where the scar is peeking out, touching her gently there. Trying to tell her something.

But as I near the fabric covering that hint of a scar, she tenses, then lifts her hand once more to adjust her top, lightly brushing mine away.

Not sure what that means. But we don’t have time now to talk. Still, I can’t stand the thought she’d worry. I meet her gaze, more serious than I was earlier when I told her why I’d talked to the press. “You’re beautiful everywhere. Know that,” I say, cupping her cheek, imploring her to understand.

She closes her eyes like something hurts her.

My heart aches for her. I kiss her forehead. “I mean it,” I whisper.

When she opens her eyes a few seconds later, she’s blinked off the emotions. “Thank you.” Then she frowns, her eyes sad. “We really shouldn’t do this,” she says, repeating—essentially—what she said earlier.

“I know,” I say, heavily.

But she puts her hand on my face, her thumb stroking my beard, her eyes swimming with vulnerability—the same kind I’ve been feeling for her. I cover her hand with mine. “I’ll try to resist you. But I make no promises.”

She laughs softly. “I’ll try too.” Then she clears away the emotion. “Have a good trip.”

She grabs her purse from the floor, runs a hand over her ponytail, and heads to the door. But before she unlocks the door, she looks back at me, fire in her eyes again, flirtation on her mouth. “You were right. I did sniff your Midnight Flame that night in my hotel room.”

She leaves, the door closing with a thunk , her parting words like a post-orgasm jolt of pleasure. I glance at my watch. There are seven minutes before the team bus leaves. I can’t quite figure out if I reassured her at the end, but there’s just enough time for me to do something else for her.

Quickly, I tuck in my shirt and zip my pants. Running a hand through my hair, I try to straighten up so it’s not obvious I just got the blow job of a lifetime, then I yank open the door. But the second I step into the hallway, I’m greeted by the smiling face of Elias .

Fuck me.

“Hey, Max! Great game tonight. You were on fire,” he says, but his gaze drifts down the corridor, and my brain races with worry. Is Everly walking away? Did he spot her leaving before me? Is it obvious we were in here together? But when I steal a glance down the hall she’s nowhere to be seen.

That’s good.

“Thanks, man,” I say. But I don’t make up an excuse about what I was looking for in the equipment room. The more you say, the more obvious it is that you’re covering up something.

Elias’s brow knits. “Working late?”

“Or hardly working,” I joke, keeping it casual. I nod to the end of the corridor, a subtle sign I should go.

But maybe he doesn’t do subtle since he doesn’t let up. “Anything you need in the equipment room?”

The dude doesn’t sound suspicious, but the fact that he’s asking the question tells me he is.

Think fast.

This fucker wants Everly’s job. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her from him. “Actually, I need a Sharpie. I was going to sign a hockey stick for you to give away during the next home game. If you want to, that is?”

Here’s hoping a distraction play works.

His gray eyes pop. A smile forms on his face, big and wide. “I’ve got a Sharpie on me.”

“Great. Then I can do it now.”

I head back into the equipment room, grab a stick, and return to the hall, signing it for the guy I hate, then thrusting it at him. “Here you go.”

“I seriously appreciate this so much,” he says, beaming, and I guess the play worked .

“Happy to help,” I say, then nod to the exit. “Got to catch the bus.”

“Have a great road trip.”

“We will.” I take off, but make a speedy pit stop in the locker room before I go. If I’m fast, I’ll have just enough time.