Rush: The Season (Austin Arrows Book 1)(22)

“We don’t want him to have to lead some girl on,” Spencer tells her.

“How very noble of you,” Ellie quips.

That is sort of the truth.

I can’t lie and say that at some point in my life I haven’t had a woman in my bed in most cities I’ve visited. I’ve had a long, lucrative career, and during my twenties, I didn’t give two f*cks about much of anything other than making a name for myself. But I’m not that same punk kid anymore.

Now, I also won’t say that I’m a saint by any means, either. I’ve never kicked a chick out of my bed the next morning, and I’ve never promised to call if I didn’t intend to call. But, aside from Cheryl, I haven’t dated a girl in years. Slept with my fair share in the past, but that doesn’t usually require much more effort than dinner and a night in my hotel suite. And that really isn’t ego talking. It’s the truth. Any hockey player will tell you that money makes his dick as valuable as diamonds.

“It’s just a small favor,” Spencer pleads with his sister while I sip my beer and stare at Ellie.

I love watching her work. Her crooked smile and big, ice-green eyes draw me in every damn time. Because she wears a ball cap every single day, her long hair pulled into a ponytail and dangling through the hole in the back, I get an unobstructed view of her cute little ears and the soft line of her jaw. On top of that, the woman’s curves should be illegal. And that shirt… It should be outlawed as well. The way the white cotton hugs her tits makes my mouth water and my dick throb. Watching her as she gracefully moves behind the bar makes me wonder (not for the first time) if she’s as lithe when she f*cks.

I shoot a quick glance at Spencer to ensure her brother isn’t watching me as I mentally undress Ellie. The things I want to do to her… I can’t even count how many fantasies I’ve had about her over the years.

You don’t know how bad I want to take that hat off, let down her hair, and twist my fist in the long, silky strands while she wraps those sweet lips around my dick...

Or push her up against that bar, gripping her curvy ass while I f*ck her into oblivion from behind…

And then of course there is the other fantasy…

I’m pretty sure I’ve mentally gone through about ten gallons of chocolate syrup over the years, because, yes, the one where I drizzle it over her entire body and lick it off slowly just happens to be my favorite one. To be fair, that one is her fault. Almost every time I see her, she asks if I will make her dessert. I can only hear that so many times before my brain transposes it to mean making her my dessert.

The one thing that has stopped me from pursuing her has been my best friend’s wishes. Spencer and I go way back. Back before I earned the nickname Mount Rushmore even. We are tight. I wouldn’t do that to him.

Well, technically it was Spencer’s rumbled warnings and the fact that, thirteen years ago, Ellie found herself single and pregnant after a weekend in Las Vegas that has me keeping my distance. So, as I’ve watched Ellie raise her daughter, rarely dating or even acknowledging her own sexuality, I’ve pretended that I’m not willing to give my left nut for one night with her.

Except I don’t want only one night, but I doubt Spencer or Ellie will believe that. I do, after all, have a reputation. Being that Spencer is my best friend, he knows exactly who I am, knows that I don’t have a track record for lengthy relationships, so it only makes sense that he doesn’t want me anywhere near his sister. However, he does know that I’m not the man-whore the media portrays me to be. So, in that regard, Spencer shouldn’t be worried.

Regardless of Spencer’s wishes, it doesn’t stop me from thinking about her. Imagining her laid out on that bar top, my tongue buried between her thighs, licking her while she writhes and pleads for me to make her come.

“Kingston!”

Yanking myself from my carnal thoughts, I shift on the barstool as I attempt to hide the raging hard-on that is currently establishing an unwelcome friendship with my zipper.

“’Sup?” I look from Spencer to Ellie, then back.

“Probably a good idea if you join the convo, man.”

Right.

Which means I have to stop thinking about sex … with my best friend’s sister.





Ellie

I can feel Kingston’s eyes on me, and I can tell by his expression that he doesn’t have a clue what we’ve been talking about. As for what his warped and twisted mind has been focused on, there is no telling. The guy does that from time to time. He wanders off somewhere in his head, which I figure is the reason he’s so quiet, so mysterious.

In fact, of all Spencer’s teammates, Kingston is the quietest. Perhaps that’s because he’s a goaltender, a position that requires him to focus on every little detail. He is equally dark and brooding off the ice. He probably knows everything that is going on in the room because he opts not to talk most of the time. It’s rather sexy, actually.

And perhaps that is my biggest issue with this favor my brother is asking of me.

I’m not so sure I can pretend when it comes to Kingston. As it is, I’ve perfected the art of pretending not to be attracted to him. Going back on that now will likely screw up my friendship with him. We’ve made it this far and I don’t want to lose what we do have.

Then, of course, I have my daughter to think about. I’m not sure she’ll understand what’s going on, and if I have to guess, Spencer won’t want me to be straight with her for the simple fact that she’s twelve and she would probably tell her friends. I don’t like the idea of not being truthful with her. Which means, if I’m going to consider it, there had better be something in it for me. Something more than heartbreak at the end.