21
SCARLETT
Hockey Hooker and Proud
They got to the Pepsi Arena just as the Rebels and Blackhawks finished warming up and returned to their respective locker rooms.
Billy Idol’s “Rebel Yell” was blaring over the sound system. The stands were packed with thousands of fans rocking black-and-gold Rebels replica jerseys. Nadia proudly sported Reid’s jersey while Scarlett was wearing the jersey Viggo had given her in Canada. She and Nadia both had on skinny jeans and L.L. Bean boots, the kind with leather on top and rubber on the bottom.
Since they would be going home afterward with Viggo and Reid, they caught a ride with Nelson and Bianca so that Nadia wouldn’t have to drive her car. After buying beers and snacks, the four of them took their seats just a few rows behind the home team bench.
Scarlett had been a Denver Rebels fan all her life. It was surreal to be attending a game as Viggo Sandström’s…lover? Girlfriend? She wasn’t sure how to define herself, and that made her a little uneasy.
Before she could dwell on it, the arena lights dimmed and the crowd started cheering wildly in anticipation. The cheers quickly turned into boos and jeers as Chicago’s players skated onto the ice.
Seconds later the opening chords of a familiar rock song came blasting out of the sound system.
Scarlett’s eyes widened as goosebumps erupted on her skin. Holy shit. Was that…?
“Oh my God!” Nadia squealed excitedly. “They’re playing ‘Fahrenheit 32’!”
Nelson hooted and vigorously thumped Scarlett on the back.
She was grinning from ear to ear. Viggo must have asked them to play “Fahrenheit 32” for the team’s introduction.
As her voice snarled out the song’s gritty opening, the Rebels started pouring out of the tunnel and onto the ice, skating in every direction as laser beams bounced around in a flashing frenzy. The public address announcer dramatically began introducing the starting lineup. First up was defenseman Dmitri Fedorov. He got enthusiastic applause, but the crowd screamed like crazy when Logan skated out flexing his biceps, earning bawdy whistles of appreciation from all the women. Next came Reid, who rocketed onto the ice to a thunderous roar of cheers and applause peppered with lusty feminine squeals.
Nadia blew a bunch of kisses at her man, giggling delightedly when he pointed at her and patted his heart.
“And starting at center from Stockholm, Sweden…number nineteen…our very own Colorado Gold Rush aka The Sandstorm…Viggo Sandström!”
When Viggo burst onto the ice, the crowd’s deafening screams nearly brought the house down. Scarlett whooped and cheered excitedly, trying to block out the cacophony of puck bunnies shrieking his name. It was harder to ignore all the waving signs that begged: WILL YOU MARRY ME, VIGGO??? A few proposals were even written in Swedish.
By the time team captain Hunter Duchene was introduced, every fan was on their feet, cheering and screaming at the top of their lungs and drowning out the goaltender’s introduction. To say that this crowd loved their Denver Rebels would be an epic understatement.
Scarlett’s cheeks warmed as Nadia, Nelson and Bianca enthusiastically sang along to “Fahrenheit 32.” Her embarrassment turned to outright pleasure when she glanced around and saw dozens of other people singing the words and dancing in the stands. Her bandmates would be thrilled, especially Traeger.
What made the moment even more special for her was that she’d written “Fahrenheit 32” late one night after watching a flu-ridden Viggo gut his way through a playoff game, willing the Rebels to victory. To this day, no one else knew what had inspired the song’s adrenaline-fueled lyrics. No one but her.
When her eyes met Viggo’s, she smiled warmly and mouthed, Thank you!
He smiled back and winked.
As the game got under way, everyone settled in for a thrilling night of high-octane hockey. The opening play did not disappoint.
Just seconds after winning the faceoff, Viggo exploded up the ice toward Chicago’s defensemen. He successfully drew a holding penalty, setting up a Rebels power play that had the crowd roaring their approval.
Scarlett barely breathed as the power play unfolded. Leaning all the way forward in her seat, she watched Viggo hook his blade over the puck and charge furiously toward the goal. As a Chicago forward barreled down on him, he fired a blistering slap shot that found its way through traffic to the net.
The lamp lit up and the crowd erupted into deafening cheers and applause. Scarlett and Nadia hugged each other and squealed like banshees. The players on the bench whooped and pounded the floor with their sticks.
Viggo was mobbed by Reid, Hunter and Logan. The four of them celebrated the goal with a manly round of hugging and backslapping, gloved fists pumping in the air.
As Viggo skated past Scarlett in the stands, he pointed at her and winked.
Heat simmered up her face and her stomach got all fluttery with butterflies. Several women around her giggled and cooed his name, each one assuming that she’d been personally singled out for attention.
Suddenly Viggo glanced back at Scarlett and did a double take, his gaze focusing like a laser. He looked like he’d just experienced déjà vu.
Her breath caught as she stared back at him, wondering if he’d finally remembered seeing her in the stands six years ago.
She held her breath, waiting….
But then Logan skated up to Viggo and said something, breaking his focus on Scarlett. He looked away from her, laughing as he skated off with Logan.
Scarlett expelled a shaky breath and took a long swig of her beer.
“What was that about?” Nadia asked curiously.
Scarlett just shrugged and returned her attention to the game. It didn’t take long for her to get swept back up into the action. She was a Rebels fan long before Viggo Sandström ever skated into her heart, and watching hockey gave her a rush like no other sport. Perched on the edge of her seat, she yelled at the refs for bad calls, shouted encouragements to the Rebels, and slapped high fives with Nadia and Nelson when the team made good plays.
Seven minutes into the first period, a fierce tussle broke out by the boards as Viggo and an opposing forward wrestled for control of the puck, cursing and shoving and elbowing each other. Viggo won the battle and deftly flicked the puck to Logan, who took off like a torpedo. As he neared the net, he blasted a shot past Chicago’s defenseman and straight between the goalie’s legs. The crowd went wild, chanting “Bruiser, Bruiser, Bruiser!”
The Rebels had taken a 2-0 lead, ramping up the excitement in the arena. A few minutes later when Viggo and Reid were resting on the bench, Scarlett and Nadia shamelessly ogled them. Their seats were so close that they could see the beads of sweat running down their faces and dripping down the backs of their necks. The two friends were laughing and joking around, their heads bent together like conspirators.
When Viggo took off his helmet and ran his fingers through his hair, Scarlett bit her lip, wishing she could spear her hands through the damp blond locks and pull his warm mouth down to hers.
When Reid tilted his head back and chugged some Gatorade, Nadia purred lasciviously, “Drink up, Rocket. Replenish those electrolytes and quench your thirst, ’cause I am gonna wear your ass out tonight.”
Scarlett almost choked on the sip of beer she’d just taken. “Okay,” she teased, “when did you become such a hockey hooker?”
“Hooker?” Nadia grinned and fluttered her fingers, showing off her beautiful diamond ring. “I prefer wifey.”
Scarlett pealed with laughter and gave her a high five. “Go on, girl! I ain’t mad atcha!”
At that moment, Viggo and Reid turned and looked up to where Scarlett and Nadia were sitting a few rows behind them.
Nadia puckered her lips and blew Reid a kiss. He pretended to catch it and secure it against his heart.
Scarlett wanted to roll her eyes, but then Viggo smiled at her and she lost all semblance of cool and grinned like a freaking idiot. His gray eyes roamed over her with a heated interest that had her practically melting into her seat. It was only when he turned away to chuckle at a teammate’s joke that she remembered to breathe.
“I saw that.” Nadia gave her a sly grin and bumped her shoulder. “Don’t even pretend that you and Viggo won’t be burning up the sheets tonight. I know watching him play hockey turns you on. Admit it.”
“You got me.” Scarlett grinned wickedly. “Hockey hooker and proud.”
A few plays later, Reid rammed a Chicago winger into the boards, knocking the puck loose. Viggo swooped in to scoop it up, then skated around behind the net and popped the puck in on the side.
As the arena exploded in celebration, Viggo and Reid gave each other a hearty chest bump, their faces wreathed in the biggest grins.
“Look at them,” Nadia pointed, laughing warmly. “They’re like two little boys out there.”
“I know, right?” Scarlett laughed. “They’re kicking ass and having a blast, and I am so here for it!”
Right before the first period ended, Hunter scored an electrifying goal that sent the crowd into a wild frenzy and gave the Rebels an impressive 4-0 lead. They swagger-skated off the ice, tapping the hands of fans hanging over the glass by the tunnel.
“Man, I miss the hockey beat,” Nelson lamented.
“We know you do,” the others commiserated.
Nelson was a sportswriter for the Denver Dispatch. For the past few months, he’d been covering hockey while the regular beat reporter was on leave dealing with family matters. Hockey was Nelson’s first love, so he’d thoroughly enjoyed attending Rebels games and interviewing the players for his column. But now that his colleague was back at work, Nelson was back to covering high school and college football.
Scarlett shook her head at him. “I thought for sure you’d get permanently reassigned to the hockey beat after that amazing piece you did on Reid. I mean, it got national attention and everything.”
“It did.” Nelson looked proud. As he should. His feature article on Reid had been all kinds of awesome. One veteran sports analyst had praised it as “a profoundly insightful profile of a game changer who would probably go down in history as one of the greatest NHL defensemen.” The piece was tweeted and retweeted by Reid’s family, friends, teammates and hockey fans everywhere. Reid’s father and grandfather loved it so much that they gave Nelson a box of Cohiba cigars and an equally expensive bottle of whiskey. After a promising interview with The Denver Post, he was expecting a job offer any day now.
Suddenly the arena music stopped and the announcer’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “Since some of you have been wondering, tonight’s awesome entrance song was called ‘Fahrenheit 32’ by Off The Grid. The band’s lead singer and drummer, Scarlett Warner, was born and raised right here in Denver. If I’m not mistaken, she’s actually here tonight.”
Scarlett let out a surprised gasp. And suddenly there she was on the JumboTron, looking like a deer caught in high beams.
The crowd whistled and cheered in support. Nadia, Nelson and Bianca huddled close to her and waved at the JumboTron.
The announcer told the crowd, “Everyone give a hearty hello to our hometown rock star!”
Scarlett could only laugh and blush as an arena full of strangers showered her with raucous greetings. Someone squeezed her shoulder from behind, and several people asked for her autograph.
Once the crowd had shifted their attention elsewhere, she grabbed Nadia’s hand and tugged her along to the bathroom, giggling the whole way. The line was long, but thankfully it moved quickly. She and Nadia emerged from their stalls at the same time and went to the sink to wash their hands.
Ever since Reid’s romantic proposal went viral, people had been recognizing Nadia pretty much everywhere she went. As she stood at the mirror retouching her nude lip gloss, several women gave her assessing glances and rolled their eyes. Nadia pretended not to notice. She was still getting used to the idea of being an NHL player’s fiancée. She was acutely aware that she didn’t look like most of the other wives and girlfriends, and sometimes this made her feel self-conscious.
Watching her retreat into shrinking violet mode always brought out the mama bear in Scarlett. She was ready to kick the ass of anyone who tried to hurt her cousin.
Hoping to distract Nadia from the jealous glares, Scarlett grinned at their reflections in the mirror and joked, “Look at us. We look like little girls wearing our daddies’ shirts.”
Nadia laughed. “Don’t we?”
Reid and Viggo’s jerseys were ridiculously long on them, hanging to their knees. Scarlett gathered the hem of her jersey and tied it in a knot at her back, revealing an inch or so of bare midriff.
“Hey, that looks cute,” Nadia said. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
Scarlett grinned. “’Cause I’m the fashionista in the family.” She fixed Nadia’s jersey, then turned her toward the mirror and playfully smacked her round ass. “That’s right, mami. Show off that ba-dunk-a-dunk your man loves so much.”
They were still laughing when a tall blonde strutted into the bathroom and joined them at the mirror to retouch her lipstick. She was wearing Viggo’s jersey over a pair of tapered black pants with designer pumps.
Her cornflower-blue eyes raked over Scarlett, narrowing at the way she’d knotted the jersey behind her back. She looked distinctly displeased.
Scarlett ignored her, leaning toward the mirror to reapply her red lipstick.
“I’ve never heard of your band before.”
Scarlett’s eyes snapped to the blonde’s reflection.
There was a small smirk on her face. “Off The Grid, was it?”
“That’s right,” Scarlett said.
“Hmm.” The woman ran manicured fingers through her long blond hair. “The Rebels have used ‘Winter Rebellion’ as their entrance song for years. I mean, it was written just for them. Given how much hockey players value their traditions and superstitions, I was really surprised that they changed their entrance song tonight.”
Scarlett coolly returned the blonde’s stare. “Your point?”
She flipped her hair back. “If your band was more popular, I might understand them using your song. But Off The Grid isn’t exactly a household name. So I have to assume you’re dating one of the players.” She looked at the number on Scarlett’s jersey and frowned.
Scarlett smirked at her.
“I don’t know,” Nadia mused philosophically, running a comb through her shoulder-length hair. “Thirty-two degrees is the temperature at which water freezes on the Fahrenheit scale. ‘Fahrenheit 32’ is a song about an ultimate competitor with ice in his veins and a heart of steel. What could be more fitting for an ice hockey team?”
The blonde narrowed her eyes as Nadia went on blithely, “Anyway, the Rebels are beating Chicago 4-0. So maybe the new entrance song will be their good luck charm.”
The blonde skewered her with a death glare.
Unbothered, Nadia flashed an angelic smile and flipped her hair.
It was all Scarlett could do not to burst out laughing.
An older woman entered the bathroom and greeted the seething blonde. “Audrey. Hi. How’s your mother?”
As the two women began chatting, Scarlett’s eyes narrowed in speculation. Could this be the same Audrey who used to date Viggo? The same Audrey who still called him?
“C’mon, Scar, let’s get back before the second period starts.” Nadia grabbed her hand and ushered her out of the bathroom, shaking her head in amused bewilderment. “What the hell was up with that chick?”
Scarlett snorted. “Who knows?”
But she had a pretty good idea.
The rebels outshot the Blackhawks and played a tight checking game that kept them off balance most of the night. The final score was Rebels 6, Blackhawks 2.
After the game, Nelson and Bianca said their goodbyes while Scarlett and Nadia headed down to the locker room to claim their victorious gladiators. Several other girlfriends and wives were already gathered in the hallway. Plenty of bunnies were there too, chatting up security while keeping one hungry eye on the closed locker room door.
While they were waiting for Viggo and Reid to come out, Nadia introduced Scarlett to the gorgeous blond wife of Rebels goaltender Sergei Vasiliev. Jenna hugged Scarlett and invited her over for dinner, proving to be just as warm and down to earth as Nadia had described her. A former actress and model, she’d taken Nadia under her wing, welcoming her into the exclusive sorority of players’ wives and girlfriends. She’d also been giving her wedding planning advice, and she’d secretly contacted Nadia’s mother to let her know she was throwing a team bridal shower for Nadia. All the Warner women were grateful to have Jenna Vasiliev looking out for Nadia.
When Jenna pulled out her phone to show off Christmas pictures of her young children, everyone crowded around her to coo and fawn over the adorable images. Scarlett had never been one to go goo-goo-ga-ga over strangers’ baby pictures. Yet there she was cooing and fawning right along with the others.
Dammit. Being in love was making her soft.
The bunnies started screaming as soon as Viggo came out of the locker room. His hair was slicked back from his forehead and he’d changed into one of his bespoke Italian suits, transitioning from hockey warrior to GQ cover model.
He looked across the hall and slowly looked Scarlett up and down, lingering on the strip of bare skin at her midriff. The possessive heat of his gaze made her pulse sprint and increased the blood flow to her girl parts.
Ignoring the cacophony of screams and squeals, he sauntered right up to Scarlett and smiled down at her. “Hej.”
“Hej.” Her voice was breathy, her skin shivery. She loved it when he spoke Swedish to her.
He put his finger under her chin and tilted her face up, then slowly lowered his head toward hers.
She probably should have stopped him. She wasn’t ready to go public with their relationship yet, so kissing him in front of other people was a really bad idea. But the moment his warm mouth touched hers, the need for secrecy went right out the window.
Leaning up on tiptoe, she parted her lips and let her tongue slide against his. He gave a growling sigh that shot heat through every cell of her body. As he deepened the kiss, she slid her hands around his neck and into the hair at his nape, which was damp from his shower. He smelled soapy clean and tasted absolutely delicious.
The sound of wolf whistles and cheers broke them apart, laughing softly and smiling into each other’s eyes.
“We’ll finish this later,” Scarlett whispered.
“Damn right we will.” He took her overnight bag from her and slung it over his big shoulder.
Hearing more excited squeals, Scarlett glanced around to see Reid sauntering out of the locker room. He came across the hall, cupped Nadia’s face in his hands and laid a great big kiss on her. She was still swaying on her feet when he scooped her up, tossed her over his Armani-clad shoulder and carried her off like a pirate claiming his booty. Laughter erupted in the hallway.
Viggo grinned at Scarlett, threading his strong fingers through hers as they followed Reid and Nadia out the rear exit to the parking lot.
She congratulated him on the team’s impressive win, gushing over the way he’d imposed his will on the Hawks right out the gate. “Drawing that early penalty to set up the power play was a thing of beauty—”
“Speaking of a thing of beauty…”
She turned her head to see him looking behind her, unabashedly checking out her ass in her tight jeans. When he bit his bottom lip, she grinned and punched him on the arm.
“Dude, stop objectifying me.”
He gave a low laugh, his large hand cupping her bottom. “Can’t wait to get you home, babe. Gonna objectify this sweet ass all night long.”
Okay, that sounded way hotter than it should have.
Just ahead of them, Reid was depositing Nadia in the passenger seat of his Ford pickup.
Viggo was parked nearby. When he and Scarlett reached the Silverado, she stroked the truck’s shiny chrome and cooed affectionately, “Hey, handsome. I missed you.”
“Fuck, woman,” Viggo grumbled. “You’re making me jealous of my damn truck.”
She laughed at him.
Reid and Nadia drove past calling out the open window, “Try not to burn down the house tonight!”
Viggo and Scarlett laughed. After stowing her bag in the backseat, he helped her up into the cab of the truck, closed the door and came around to slide behind the wheel. Before she could take her next breath, he dragged her across the bench seat and gave her a searing kiss that had her hot and wet in an instant.
When he broke the kiss, she let out a quivering breath and croaked, “Home. Hurry.”
“Hell yes.” Keeping her at his side, he buckled their seatbelts and started the engine.
She put her head on his shoulder, watching as he maneuvered the truck out of the busy parking lot and into the stream of traffic. He drove with one hand, his other arm draped around her shoulders so he could hold her close. The heat of his body warmed her all over, making the heater unnecessary.
Stopping at a red light, he took his hand off the wheel to stroke her cheek. “God, I missed touching you.”
His words sent tingles of pleasure spiraling through her. “I’m addicted to your touch.”
“I’m addicted to you.”
Her heart went topsy-turvy. When she lifted her head to smile at him, the glittering light in his eyes did all sorts of crazy things to her hormones.
As he leaned in for another kiss, a horn honked behind them. They grinned crookedly at each other before Viggo returned his attention to driving.
Scarlett sighed, resettling her head on his shoulder. “It sucks that we won’t be spending New Year’s Eve together.”
“I know,” he muttered. “I’m trying not to think about it.”
The Rebels were flying to Arizona tomorrow to play the Coyotes. Nadia was still on winter break from work, so she was tagging along to spend more time with Reid. Scarlett couldn’t help feeling jealous. Not for the first time, she wondered if she and Viggo could make their relationship work despite their busy travel schedules.
She pushed the thought to the back of her mind, tucking it into the same murky corner as her questions about Audrey.
Viggo lived on the edge of downtown in an exclusive residential building renowned for its high-priced penthouses and sky garage.
Scarlett lifted her head from his shoulder when he passed through the security gate and entered the underground parking garage. He drove past a row of luxury vehicles before turning a corner to reach what appeared to be a freight elevator with futuristic-looking doors. They opened from the top and bottom when he touched a button on the truck’s steering wheel.
As he pulled inside the huge mirrored elevator, Scarlett breathed, “Holy crap. When did we get transported to The Jetsons?”
Viggo chuckled, pressing another button to close the doors. The freight-style elevator whisked them all the way up to the top floor of the building. The ascent was so quick and smooth, Scarlett was left a little breathless.
When the doors opened, Viggo drove out of the elevator and pulled up to a private carport marked with his penthouse number. He parked between two other vehicles—a shiny black Lamborghini and a Bugatti Veyron. The sight of his elusive sports cars brought a big grin to Scarlett’s face.
“Hmm,” she mused, tapping her finger against her lip. “I wonder who these bad boys belong to?”
Viggo blinked innocently. “I have no idea.”
She laughed as he got out and grabbed her bag from the back, then came around to help her down from the truck. He shifted her into the circle of his left arm, pulling her close as he guided her across the garage. She’d never been inside a garage that had vaulted ceilings and terracotta floors. She didn’t even want to know how much Viggo paid for the privilege and convenience of parking right outside his penthouse.
He keyed in an access code to unlock the outer entrance. Then he ushered her down a hallway with stark white walls and black marble floors. At the end of the hall, he entered another code into the panel beside his front door and then opened it, motioning for Scarlett to precede him inside.
She crossed the threshold and stopped, her jaw dropping as she looked around the stunning two-story penthouse. Nadia definitely hadn’t exaggerated about the “wow” factor.
The living room alone was bigger than most people’s apartments. It boasted gleaming hardwood floors, a sleek fireplace, beautiful artwork, and plush gathering sofas and chairs. The décor was clean and casual, very Swedish chic.
To the right of the foyer was an open kitchen with glistening black marble counters, stainless steel appliances and high-end fixtures. To the left was a curved glass staircase that connected the penthouse’s two floors. It looked like something out of an upscale art gallery.
But what really stole Scarlett’s breath were the floor-to-ceiling windows that framed a spectacular view of downtown and the distant mountain range.
“Oh. My. God.” Stunned into near speechlessness, she started forward and then stopped, remembering to take off her boots. She knew it was customary to remove your shoes when entering a Swede’s home, plus she didn’t want to scuff Viggo’s pristine hardwood floors or track in any mud.
He chuckled behind her. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Uh-huh! My mama raised me right,” she chirped as she skipped off toward the wall of windows.
She could feel Viggo staring after her before he set her bag down and headed toward the kitchen. “Want something to drink?” There was a husky catch to his voice. “How about some wine?”
“Yes, please.” Scarlett stared at the glittering city lights spread out in a panorama that seemed to stretch into infinity. “Wow. We could have gone stargazing right here.”
Viggo’s chuckle drifted across the penthouse. “I didn’t want to scare you off by bringing you back to my place before our first date.”
“Are you kidding? After seeing this view, I might have dropped to one knee and proposed!”
He laughed, uncorking a bottle of wine.
There was a wraparound terrace with an outdoor kitchen and dining area. Sleek patio furniture was grouped around a TV and gas fireplace built inside a stone wall. Scarlett could see her and Viggo snuggling around the fire and sipping hot chocolate under a blanket of twinkling stars. She could see them cozied up together, lazy and barefoot on a warm summer night, watching the sun set over the mountains. She could see them entertaining family and friends, grilling steaks and drinking beer while music played and laughter abounded.
As she stood at the window admiring the view and fantasizing, she felt him come up behind her. When his reflection joined hers, she turned and accepted the glass of wine. Their eyes met as their fingers brushed, electricity sparking.
He’d shed his jacket and tie and unfastened the top three buttons of his hand-tailored dress shirt. His hair had dried with a slight wave to it, falling loosely over his forehead and ears. He was such a beautiful man. Just looking at him made her weak in the knees.
She smiled, lifting her glass in a toast. “To a thoroughly satisfying victory over your division rival.”
His eyes glinted for a moment before he raised his glass and murmured, “To having you home with me, even if only for one night.”
His words sent a shiver through her, warmth curling around her heart.
Eyes locked, they tapped glasses and drank slowly.
Scarlett moved closer to him, smiling under her lashes. “I wish I could go to Arizona with you tomorrow. Think you can smuggle me onto the team plane?”
His lips twitched. “Don’t give me any ideas. You know I’m always one step away from kidnapping you.”
She laughed softly. “What is it with you trying to abduct me?”
“I told you. I’m addicted.”
Smiling demurely, she turned back to the window and gazed outside. “A view like this can make you feel like the whole city is yours.”
“Sometimes.” His hand slid down to that really sensitive spot at the base of her spine. Or maybe it was just his touch that made it supersensitive.
She sipped her wine, trying not to shiver as his thumb rubbed the small of her back in slow, lazy circles that turned her insides to jelly. “Is this one of those exclusive properties where nothing can be built in front of it?”
“Yeah.” He smiled, watching her. “That’s one of the reasons I chose this place.”
“Awesome,” she said warmly. “It would be criminal to block this view.”
“I agree.” He downed the rest of his wine in one swallow.
She drank hers more slowly, savoring the flavor. It was delicious, and probably very expensive.
Viggo reached out and fingered a lock of her hair, his eyes roaming possessively up and down her body. “I love seeing you in my jersey.”
She smiled. “And I love wearing it. Even though it’s huge on me.”
“This is a good solution.” His hand moved down to touch her exposed midriff, setting off goosebumps. “You look sexy as hell.”
She grinned, batting her lashes at him. “I’m glad you like it.”
“You knew I would.”
She winked and finished her wine.
As she lowered her glass from her mouth, Viggo gently pressed his thumb to the center of her lower lip, his lids heavy. “Want more?”
“More what?” she whispered.
“Wine.”
She shook her head and watched him lick his thumb, tasting the residue of wine from her lip. She swallowed hard, wondering how such a simple thing could be so unbelievably erotic.
He took their empty glasses and set them on a low glass table nearby. Then he came back to her, bringing their bodies so close they were almost touching. Her skin tingled as a tremor slid down the length of her spine. Slowly he lowered his head, his breath warm against her mouth. She stared into his glittering eyes, waiting for him to kiss her like it was the very first time.
When his lips finally connected with hers, a full-body shiver rocked her. He made a rumbling sound in his throat and slid his hands down to her ass, pulling her tight against him. He was already hard and thick, his huge erection digging into her belly.
She moaned softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. His tongue slicked over her lips before diving between them. As he sucked on her tongue, her breasts grew heavy and the flesh between her legs grew hot and damp.
Remembering his manners, Viggo whispered between kisses, “Are you hungry?”
“For you.” She tugged his shirt free from his pants. “Only for you.”
He groaned and deepened the kiss, his hands gripping her bottom as his big thigh thrust up against her pussy. She whimpered and rode his leg, grinding on him until he shuddered and pressed her back against the window.
Her pulse pounded as he dropped to a crouch before her, the expensive fabric of his suit pants pulling taut across his muscular thighs. He looked up at her face as he unsnapped her fly and dragged her tight jeans down her legs. She trembled when he stroked her bare skin, his callused palms moving back up her thighs to get her panties.
They stared into each other’s eyes as he peeled the wisp of lace off her body. The slow removal was so hot, so unbearably erotic, she could barely breathe.
Her legs wobbled as she stepped out of her jeans and undies and kicked them aside. Viggo gave her a hungry, primal smile that turned her blood into lava. Then he reached between her thighs, groaning when he found her creamy and wet.
Her head fell back against the window when he slipped two fingers inside her, stroking and caressing her pussy until her limp knees almost gave out. He watched her face intently as he pulled out of her and sucked off the juices coating his fingers.
“Oh God,” she whispered, her hips churning with need. “Please…”
He lifted her right leg over his shoulder, spreading her open to the scorching heat of his mouth. When he pressed his tongue against her throbbing cleft, she let out a throaty moan that would make a porn star blush.
He kissed and nuzzled her clit, then licked the hard knot of aching nerves. The blistering pleasure had her grabbing fistfuls of his hair and dragging him closer.
He cupped her ass cheek in one hand while he sucked the hood of her clit, drawing a rush of wetness from the mouth of her pussy.
“Oh—God.” She rocked her hips, riding his face as he lapped at her cream. He was trying to kill her, she was sure of it. “Viggo…”
“So sweet,” he rasped thickly. “You’re so fucking delicious, Scarlett.”
She could only take a few sizzling lashes of his tongue before she came with a keening cry that echoed around the penthouse. Viggo groaned as she spilled hotly into his mouth, his tongue working furiously to soak up every drop.
She was still gasping and shivering when he surged powerfully to his feet, lifting her off the window and into his arms. He swung around and carried her to the kitchen, setting her down on the huge center island. Her body was burning up, so she welcomed the coolness of the marble against her bare ass.
As Viggo unbuckled his belt, she grabbed both sides of his dress shirt and ripped it open. Pearl buttons flew in all directions. He gave her a little smile, a sexy curving of his lips that tightened her nipples as she helped him shrug off his shirt.
When she started to remove the jersey she wore, he stopped her.
“Leave it on,” he said roughly. “I want you wearing my name while I’m deep inside you.”
Holy hell!
He tore off his undershirt, muscles rippling in his powerful chest. She had to touch him, had to stroke those thick pecs and rock-hard abs. She felt him shiver, saw his pupils darken and dilate with lust. Breathless and mesmerized, she watched him lower his zipper, then shove his pants and boxer briefs down his legs. As he straightened, his cock bobbed against his stomach. The broad head glistened wetly from a steady stream of precum.
Scarlett stared, licking her lips. “God, that’s sexy.”
He bent and kissed her, sweeping his tongue into her mouth. “I should put on a—”
“Next time,” she breathed, her arousal at fever pitch. “I need you now.”
With a low groan, he grabbed her hips, sliding her forward until their pelvises met. When she wrapped her legs around him, he palmed her ass cheeks and lowered her right onto his hot, hard cock.
She cried out, her back arching in ecstasy.
“Fuck.” His eyes closed briefly as his erection swelled and throbbed inside her. “God, what you do to me, Scarlett.”
“That goes both ways,” she managed to gasp.
His hands tightened on her buttocks as he braced his long legs apart. Then he began moving in and out of her, thrusting slowly when he obviously wanted to set a more demanding pace. His controlled restraint drove her even wilder.
She clutched his back for support, digging her fingers into the hard slab of muscle.
He shuddered and clenched his jaw, watching her face as he stroked deeply between her legs. He was so big. So hot and thick. The rawness of his cock plunging through her creamy folds felt so good she thought she would die.
She ran her hands down the hard swell of his ass, gripping him tight as he rocked their bodies together. “Viggo,” she mewled helplessly. “Oh yes, baby. Yes, yes, yesss…!”
Cupping the back of her head with one hand, he lined openmouthed kisses up her neck, along her jaw and over her earlobe.
She shivered with pleasure, wrapping her legs higher around his waist. He fucked her deeper and harder, holding her gaze with his, letting her see just what she did to him.
The feverish slap of their bodies, his harsh breaths and her desperate moans created a symphony of sound that flooded the penthouse like their own erotic soundtrack.
Closing her eyes, she let her head fall back as he slammed into her, his hard abs slapping her stomach with each stroke.
Every cell and nerve ending in her body was alive, singing with pleasure. “Oh shit…so good…right there, baby…right there...”
With her throat exposed, Viggo leaned down, still thrusting, and bit into the side of her neck.
She sobbed in wild ecstasy and shattered apart, screaming his name over and over.
“Ah God, Scarlett.” Gripping her ass cheeks, he held her tight to him and powered into her with feral urgency until he came with an animal groan. The heat of his semen shooting into her sent more spasms to her core. She moaned at the sensation, scraping her teeth against his shoulder before she sagged against him.
His arms went around her back, holding her up as he panted raggedly into her hair. She closed her eyes, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, her legs going limp around his waist.
They remained that way for a long time, their hearts crashing against each other’s chests. Scarlett was damp with sweat under the jersey, and her ass was stuck like glue to the marble countertop.
Viggo was the first to move, pressing a kiss into her hair and murmuring, “Are you sure I can’t kidnap you?”
She let out a hoarse little laugh. “I’m seriously reconsidering.”
His lips curved against her temple as he untied the knotted jersey. “Guess I should give you a tour of the place, huh?”
“Mmm.” She lifted her head to give him a lazy smile. “A tour would be nice. How big is this joint?”
“It’s a good size,” he murmured, nipping at the corner of her mouth.
“What’s a good size?”
His hands moved under the loosened jersey and cupped her breasts, making her quiver against him. “Five thousand square feet.”
“Wow,” she breathed. “It’s huge. How many bedrooms?”
“Four bedrooms. Three baths.” Eyes fixed on hers, he tweaked her nipples through the lace of her bra.
She gasped and arched back, feeling his cock thicken inside her. “You have such a big…place.” The words shivered out of her. “So many rooms to explore.”
“And christen.” He pulled the jersey over her head and swooped down, using his teeth to tug her bra cup down so he could bite her elongated nipple.
She cried out, throwing back her head and wrapping a leg around his hip to hold him against her. As he licked and sucked her nipple, she shoved her hands into his hair and panted, “Show me your bedroom.”
He made a growling sound of approval, scooped her off the counter and carried her upstairs for the next steamy round.
Afterward he lay on his stomach with his head resting on his folded arms while she straddled his back, giving him a massage.
The enormous master bedroom was lit by moonlight beaming through the wall of windows. Music played softly in the background, “Hands to Heaven” by Breathe.
Viggo groaned as Scarlett pressed her thumbs into his shoulders, kneading the muscles. Their lovemaking had left him relaxed and pliant, but she still found a few knots to smooth out. He also had a darkening bruise on his left side, courtesy of a brutal body check delivered by a Chicago defenseman.
“Ouch,” she murmured. “Does that hurt?”
His breathing was deep and steady. “What?”
“This.” She gently touched the bruise. “Does it hurt?”
“Not yet.” His tone was wry. “Ask me again in the morning.”
She chuckled sympathetically. “Poor baby.”
“Nah,” he drawled. “No pain, no gain.”
She grinned. “Such a badass.”
She felt the deep rumble of his chuckle between her thighs. It made her shiver as her fingers stroked, rubbed and kneaded his deltoids. She loved how he felt under her hands, loved the rough and smooth of his skin.
She worked her way down his spine, pressing the heels of her hands into his back. As his muscles rolled under her touch, he let out another rumbling groan of satisfaction.
“Damn, baby, that feels good. Where’d you learn to give massages?”
“Nowhere. I’m just talented like that.” She leaned close and whispered in his ear, “And touching you comes naturally to me.”
He shivered. “God, I’m a lucky man.”
She grinned and nipped his earlobe. “Maybe we can make this our postgame ritual. Sex, massage, dinner. Or dinner, massage and then sex. You know, because the happy ending is supposed to come last.”
Viggo grinned lazily. “Works for me.”
“I bet it does,” she teased, kneading her way up his spine to his neck. As her fingers made little circles on either side of his nape, she said very casually, “I met Audrey tonight.”
He immediately tensed up beneath her fingers. When he said nothing, she stared down at his face.
His eyes were still closed, but his jaw was rigid. “What did she say?”
“Enough,” Scarlett grumbled sourly.
“What does that mean?”
She relayed the brief conversation to him, watching his face darken into a scowl.
“I’m sorry she said that to you.” His voice was taut. “How do you know it was Audrey?”
“One of her mother’s friends came into the bathroom and struck up a conversation with her. She’s a blonde, right? Tall, slim, blue eyes?”
He gave a brusque nod.
“She’s pretty.” Scarlett smiled dryly. “The two of you could make a litter of blond Aryan offspring.”
Viggo didn’t laugh. Didn’t even crack a smile.
Scarlett studied his face, noting the ticking muscle in his jaw. Something like fear seeped into her veins. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
He’s lying, she thought, pulling her hands away from him as if she’d been burned. “What aren’t you telling me about you and Audrey?”
He frowned. “There is no me and Aud—”
Scarlett climbed off him and lunged out of the bed.
He rolled onto his back and sat up. “Where are you going?”
Ignoring him, she crossed the room to grab a plush throw draped over a leather chaise by the window. She wrapped the blanket around her body, covering herself up. She felt vulnerable enough right now. She didn’t need to be naked, too.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Viggo swing his legs over the edge of the mammoth bed. He stood and stalked over to a tall dresser, opened a drawer and grabbed a pair of dark basketball shorts that he pulled on. The stuffed elk she’d given him for Christmas sat propped up on the dresser. They’d named it Ragnar.
As Viggo approached Scarlett, she turned away to stare out the window at the glittering city lights below.
He came up beside her, towering over her. “Scarlett—”
“I’ve been hurt before.” The words were out before she could stop them.
“Who hurt you?” Viggo growled.
“A man I stupidly trusted.” She swallowed a knot of pain. “I can’t go through that again. I won’t.”
“I’m not him.”
She didn’t respond.
“Did you hear me?” Rough fingers gripped her chin and turned her head, forcing her to meet fierce silver eyes. “I’m not the bastard who hurt you.”
Her chin quivered. “Maybe not—”
“There’s no ‘maybe’ about it,” Viggo snarled. “I’m not him.”
“Then tell me the truth,” she demanded, temper flaring. “What the hell is going on between you and Audrey?”
“Nothing,” he insisted, palming her cheek. “She asked me to participate in a charity bachelor auction she’s organizing for some Lark Women’s Club. I agreed.”
Scarlett stared up at him. “You agreed?”
“Yes,” he gritted out, “but only after I saw that fucking picture of you and Leo Harry. I figured we were done, so it didn’t matter if I did the bachelor auction.”
This doused some of Scarlett’s anger. She lowered her face away from him and tugged her lower lip between her teeth.
He caressed her cheek with his thumb. “Believe me when I tell you that there’s nothing I want or need from Audrey. I had no interest in doing the bachelor auction, and I turned her down the first few times she asked. But she was persistent, and she ended up catching me at a bad moment.”
Scarlett shook her head, staring out the window. “What do the proceeds go to?”
“Foundation Fighting Blindness. A good friend of Audrey’s lost her sight at a young age, so tackling blindness has become her personal cause.”
“Dammit,” Scarlett grumbled under her breath. “That’s really admirable.”
“It is,” Viggo muttered. “But what she said to you wasn’t cool. I’ll talk to her.”
Scarlett sighed. “You don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do,” he growled. “I need to set her straight on a couple other things as well.”
Scarlett lifted an eyebrow. “Like what?”
He clenched his jaw, clearly reluctant to answer.
She wasn’t having it. “Like what?” she repeated.
He scowled. “Audrey is the general manager’s niece, something she conveniently forgot to mention when I met her.”
Scarlett frowned. “I don’t understand. You’ve been on the team for six years. You never saw her sitting in the owner’s box at a game? You never saw her at any team functions?”
“No, because she’s only been around a few months. Her mother and uncle were estranged, so Audrey didn’t grow up with him. She and her mother just moved to Denver in October. I met her shortly after she got here.” Viggo scowled. “I wouldn’t have gone out with her if I’d known she was the GM’s niece.”
“Maybe she knew that,” Scarlett suggested. “I remember in one of your GQ interviews, you were asked about relationship deal-breakers. You explicitly stated that you’d never date anyone who was related to team management because that was just asking for trouble.”
“It is,” Viggo said angrily. “And now I’ve got McCaskill breathing down my fucking neck about Audrey. She apparently told him we’re still seeing each other. So, yeah, we need to have a little talk.”
“Jesus.” Scarlett sank down on the chaise and rubbed her forehead. She had a very bad feeling about this. Audrey sounded like a scheming, manipulative bitch who would go to any lengths to get what she wanted.
“Hey.” Viggo crouched in front of her, looking deep into her eyes. “Don’t worry about Audrey. She’s not gonna be a problem.”
Scarlett’s lips twisted wryly. “I might have believed that if you weren’t participating in her bachelor auction. Why didn’t you tell me about it sooner?”
He grimaced. “Because I knew you wouldn’t be happy about it.”
“You’re right. I’m not happy about you going on a date with another woman, worthy cause or not.”
“I know, baby, but I already agreed to do it. If I back out now I’ll look like a dick.”
Scarlett frowned. She knew he was right. Didn’t mean she had to like it, though. “You said Audrey’s organizing the auction. What’s to stop her from getting a proxy to bid on you on her behalf? It’d be the perfect way for her to score another date with you.”
Viggo frowned. The thought clearly hadn’t occurred to him. “I don’t see how she’d get away with that.”
Scarlett snorted. “You’d be surprised what desperate women can get away with.”
His frown deepened. “I don’t think she’d go that far.”
“She made a calculated decision not to tell you that she’s the general manager’s niece. Then she told her uncle that you guys are still involved. Hell, she’s probably the one who sent you the link to that picture of me and Leo. I wouldn’t put anything past her, Viggo, and neither should you.”
He scowled, forked a hand through his hair and puffed out a breath. Then he got quiet for a long moment, rubbing his jaw as he stared down at her lap. She could see the wheels turning.
“What if…”
“What if what?” she prompted.
His eyes lifted to hers. “What if you come to the auction and bid on me?”
She snorted. “Yeah, right.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t have that kinda scratch.”
His brows furrowed. “How much scratch would you need?”
“Believe me,” she said with a sardonic chuckle, “I can’t afford you.”
He looked confused. “What does that even mean?”
She sighed. “The Lark Women’s Club is one of the most exclusive clubs in Denver. Some of the city’s wealthiest society matrons are members. After my dad became an executive at Boeing, my mom joined the club as a way to network, and she wanted the cachet of belonging to such a prestigious group.” Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Anyway, as much as I’d love to attend the bachelor auction and bid on you, I’d be way out of my league with all those rich women. Hell, I’d be shocked if the bidding for you started under a thousand—”
“A thousand dollars?” Viggo exclaimed.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Holy shit.”
Scarlett grinned. “Why do you sound so surprised?”
“Because that’s a lot of money to spend on one date with a total stranger.”
“But you’re not just any stranger. You’re Viggo Sandström, NHL superstar and one of People’s 100 Most Beautiful People in the World.” Her grin turned lopsided. “Believe me, dude, you’re gonna fetch a hefty price for the pleasure of your company.”
That made him scowl.
Scarlett laughed, cupping his cheek. “If you think I’m exaggerating, just ask my mom. She socializes with these women. They attend the same ritzy luncheons and dinner parties and volunteer on the same charity committees. These broads have plenty of disposable income, and they’re not afraid to spend it.”
“Maybe,” Viggo conceded darkly, “but one grand for a date is fucking nuts.”
Scarlett shook her head at him. “I think you’re underestimating what a hot commodity you are. At the risk of inflating your ego, most women can only dream of going on a date with a guy like you. If they have to shell out big bucks to spend one evening with an insanely rich and gorgeous athlete, that’s not a hard sell. Seriously.”
Viggo looked more annoyed than flattered. In fact, he didn’t look flattered at all.
“What’s the problem?” Scarlett teased. “You’re worth millions and you generously donate to a ton of charities. What’s one more?”
“It’s not about the money,” he grumbled. “It’s the principle.”
“I get it,” she commiserated. “There’s something horribly dehumanizing and exploitative about being put up for auction. Imagine how my ancestors felt.”
Viggo lifted both brows at her.
She shrugged. “Just sayin’.”
He grimaced. “Now I just feel like a fucking asshole for complaining.”
She laughed, watching as he scrubbed a hand over his face and blew out a frustrated breath. After another moment, he rested his palm on her thigh and began kneading her through the blanket, sending tingles up and down her spine.
“If I give you the money,” he proposed, “will you come to the auction and bid on me?”
She grinned. “Isn’t that cheating?”
“Who’s gonna tell?”
“Good point.”
“So will you do it?”
Her grin spread. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“What’s my spending limit?”
“No more than four grand. Five, tops.”
She made a face. “That’s gonna be tough.”
He scoffed. “I’m sure five grand will be more than enough.”
“Okay,” Scarlett said with a laugh. “When you end up on a date with some blue-haired matron with grabby hands, don’t say I didn’t warn you!”