The Troublemaker (Players on Ice Book 8) Read online

  I shake my head. “The only luck you’re going to have is if you don’t end up with your head in the toilet bowl.” I gesture for her to lift her arms. “Come on, let me help you undress.”

  “That was good tequila,” she says and I laugh as I peel her shirt off. She flops onto her pillow and I remove her pants, leaving her in her bra and panties. I help her between the sheets and put a big glass of water on the nightstand. As she drifts off, I brush my teeth, and I’m about to undress and climb in beside her, but stop short when she starts snoring so hard, the walls begin to vibrate around me.

  “Oh, hell no!”

  I grab her purse and search for her key. Dammit. Would they give me a new one at the front desk, if I asked? If I had her ID, pretended to be her, what choice would they have? Even though we look nothing alike, I snatch her wallet from her purse, and head down to the front desk.

  Jackpot.

  Ten minutes later, I let myself into her room, and with exhaustion from a long day pulling at me, I strip off and collapse onto her bed. I close my eyes, and the second I do, visions of a naked Cason dance in my head. If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll have another sex dream tonight, just like the ones I’ve been having for the past year now.

  Last summer, Cason and a few of his buddies had been playing street hockey with some neighborhood kids, and they all showed up half naked, and fully starved. Something shifted in me that day, woke with a vengeance. I always knew he was smoking hot, but damn, my ovaries nearly exploded as he gave me an up close and personal view of his hard chest and tight six pack.

  Would his lower body be just as hard?

  Dammit.

  I should not be fantasizing about my good friend, especially when he just showed interest in Emily. I lied when he asked if he was a big fat snack. Oh, did I ever lie. What I’d do to take a bite out of him. But Emily’s the one he wants to go to bed with, not me—a tatted up girl who is the antithesis of the women who hang off his arm. I exhale sharply and work to push all images of Cason from my mind as I drift off. A long while later, a voice pulls me awake.

  “Hey,” Cason says.

  I take a breath, and then another. What the hell is going on? I try to focus, but my room is too dark to see anything. A big callused hand touches my face, and that’s when I clue in. I’m fantasizing about Cason again.

  “Mmm,” I say and settle against the pillow, ready to ride this dream out to orgasm. His lips find mine, and I moan into his mouth, to let him know how much I like his kisses, even if they’re not real. No, none of this is tangible, not the weight of his body pressing down on mine, the hard cock indenting my leg, or the hungry groans that sound far too real.

  “Sorry I took so long,” he says, and I put my legs around him, and move my hips.

  “Forgiven,” I murmur and for a brief second he goes still. His body stiffens, and I’m not just talking about the anaconda between his legs. Oh, God, this is my dream, and I get to dictate what happens next, not him. I grip his hair, bring his mouth back to mine, and kiss the living hell out of him.

  I lift my hips, grind against his body, and just give in to the things this man makes me feel. I’m not so sure I’d be so wild and bold in real life. It’s true, my outward appearance tells a story, a rebellious daughter of lawyer parents, who was supposed to follow in their footsteps, but inside, I’m not always as confident as I let on. But this, in my dreams, I can let go, and take what I want.

  “Cason,” I murmur. “Get naked all ready.” I tear at his T-shirt, needing his skin next to mine. He reaches over his back and tugs, removing the stupid piece of fabric that’s preventing me from touching him all over. I can’t see a thing, but that’s okay. I want to feel my way around his luscious body anyway.

  “Better?” he asks.

  “Much,” I say, as his hand goes to my breast. He kneads me in his big, hockey player palms, rough from years of handling the stick, his thumb brushing against my nipple and holy, it’s all I can do not to come.

  “Yes,” I say. “Just like that.”

  I fist his hair and push on him, until his mouth is right where I want it to be—for now. Soon I’ll want it between my quivering legs. He chuckles at my boldness, and the sound vibrates through my body, and stimulates my throbbing clit.

  “This what you want?” he asks, before pulling my hard nipple into his mouth. My lips part in ecstasy but no sound comes. He clearly knows what his kisses are doing to me. How could he not? I’m like a writhing, overstimulated nymphomaniac beneath him.

  But I don’t care.

  My sex pulses, and I’m so damn wet and needy, I’m sure I’m going to climax the second he touches me. Let’s find out. I grip his hair harder, and direct his mouth to my pussy, and he moves slower than I’d like, peppering hot, open mouthed kisses to my tingling stomach. He finally settles between my legs, and I arch up to meet his mouth.

  The second his hot, wet tongue touches me, I let loose an agonized wail. “Yes,” I cry out. He licks me, circles his tongue around my clit, and I grip the sheets and tug. “You are so good at that,” I say. He should be. He’s been with enough women, but this is my dream, and he’s probably performing better because I’m the one directing the show. No one could be this skilled in real life, right?

  I move shamelessly against his face, rub my pussy all over him and his moans of want encourage me all the more.

  “Yeah, that’s it. Take what you want,” he says from deep between my legs. He inserts a finger into me, and my muscles clench as deep pleasure radiates from my core.

  “God, yes,” I say as he licks my clit and circles the hot bundle of nerves inside me. I move against him as he fucks me with his finger, sliding a second in for a snug fit, and I let go of the sheets and go up on my elbows. I can’t see his face, so I close my eyes to imagine it as he takes me higher and higher until I’m soaring without wings.

  “I’m…coming,” I say and clench around his finger, so hard, it steals the breath from my lungs. My God, I’ve climaxed in my sleep dreaming of him before, but this is different. Far more intense. He pets me lightly, bringing me down to earth and before I can fully catch my breath, he stands to remove his pants.

  The hiss of his zipper fills the silence of the room and I go up on all fours, to follow the sound. I moan, and breathe in his scent.

  “I want you in my mouth,” I say and he groans.

  “Where are you?” he asks.

  I sit on the edge of the bed and reach for him. My hand connects with his stomach. “Right here, waiting for you to put this big cock into my mouth.”

  “Fuck,” he growls, and my hand slides lower to grasp his cock. I rub him lightly. Velvet wrapped around hard steel. As I stroke, he steps closer.

  “You’re going to choke me with this thing,” I say, and he draws in a fast breath.

  “I won’t hurt you.”

  Cason is one badass motherfucker—most guys know not to mess with him—but underneath it all, he’s sweet. I always knew that about him, which must be why his tenderness has worked its way into my dream. He’s not the flowery prose kind of guy, and I’ve never really seen him display affection to any woman other than his sister, but I’m not asking for that at the moment.

  “My mouth is open, Cason. Feed me your cock, and maybe I want it to hurt a bit.”

  He swallows, and I move forward so he can find my mouth. He grunts and taps my bottom lip. I lick him, taste the come dripping from his slit, and my moan seems to do something to him. He comes closer, and slides to the back of my throat. I relax my throat, take him deeper than I’ve ever taken any man and he thickens even more.

  He grips my hair, wraps it around his hand, and follows the motion of my bobbing head. God, I’ve never much been into giving oral sex, but I like it with him. Everything from the way he tastes, to the groans crawling out of his throat turn me on even more.

  “It’s too good,” he murmurs and pulls out of me.

  “Then why stop?” I ask, my heart pounding as I squeak in a breath.
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br />   “I want to fuck you.”

  “Yeah, I want that, too.”

  More sounds fill the space between us; clothes rustling, foil ripping, and latex being rolled on.

  “Middle of the bed,” he demands in a soft voice.

  “Ooh, I love it when you go all alpha like that,” I say with a laugh.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I’m in the middle of the bed, now,” I inform him.

  “Legs spread?”

  I widen my thighs in invitation. “All spread.”

  “Pussy wet?”

  “Ah, yeah.”

  “Touch yourself. Let me know for sure.”

  I slide my hand down my body and moan when I find myself slippery wet. My God, I am so aroused, I’m ready to climax again. I roll my finger over my swollen clit, and I quiver from head to toe.

  “Soaked,” I murmur.

  “Jesus, I wish I could fucking see you touching yourself.” His breathing changes, becomes rough and labored. Is he visualizing me touching myself? Does that turn him on? “Hands above your head,” he commands in a soft voice.

  Ooh, that’s different. I reach up and grip the rails. “Hands are exactly where you want them,” I say.

  The bed dips as he climbs on, and slides over me. “You want my cock?”

  “Yesss,” I hiss, as his lips crash over mine and muffle the sound. He kisses me hard, deeply, like a man who’s been deprived of human contact. His hands touch me all over, slide up and down my arms, stroke my face, and shape my sides. His fingers move to my breasts, and he brushes the underside as I kiss him back, and savor the sweet taste of him, as our tongues play. His full weight presses me deeper into the mattress, and he shifts, his cock probing my opening.

  I put my legs around him and lift my hips. “Please,” I beg. “I need you to fuck me.”

  “You need to come, again?”

  “God, you have no idea how much I want to come again.”

  He slides a hand between our bodies, and inches a thick finger into me. “I have a bit of an idea,” he says with a chuckle.

  I move against his finger as his thick cock indents my thigh. “I don’t think I’m the only one who needs to come.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Then please put you—”

  Before I can finish the sentence he powers into me, driving so high and deep, I swear to God, my back teeth just rattled. He hits my cervix, and holy hell I almost climax again.

  “This what you want?” he asks, and goes still, his cock stretching me in glorious ways.

  “God, yes,” I cry out, and nip at his shoulder and ear. He’d have a little bruise on both those places tomorrow—if this was real.

  He grunts and pulls back. I cry as he almost slips free but then he pistons back inside me. I gasp. No man, not that I’ve been with a lot, has ever hit me so deeply before. He does it repeatedly, sliding past my G-spot, and hitting my cervix with his crown as his pelvis stimulates my clit with each thrust. It’s the perfect trifecta, but then his mouth leaves mine and he wraps those hot lips around my nipple. The second he does, I know I’m a goner. Lost. Down for the count. All pleasure centers in my core, and I completely submit to it.

  My senses explode, like rockets blasting off into the night. I can’t see, hear, or speak. I can only feel a full body orgasm that strips away every thought I’d ever had, allowing me to focus solely on the most intense pleasure I’ve ever experienced.

  I wrap my arms around him, my sex clenching hard around his beautiful cock, as I curl in tight.

  “Jesus,” he whispers as he holds me in a possessive way, absorbing the waves crashing over me. My body finally stops spasming, and I move my hips, wanting more…everything.

  He jerks his hips forward, changing the rhythm and pace as he chases his own orgasm, and I hold him tight. “Yes,” I say.

  His breathing changes, and he buries his face in my neck, kissing and sucking on my skin, like we’re teenagers partaking in a hickey fest. Not that I ever did that. Much.

  “I’m right there.”

  “I want to feel it,” I say, and let loose a cry at his first sweet pulse. He goes still deep inside me, his body damp, his muscles rolling beneath my fingers. He spasms and pulses and grunts as he depletes himself, and I love all the real, honest, raw sex noises he’s making. There is definitely nothing flowery about this man.

  He finally stops and his lips find mine. His kisses are softer now, less hurried, and I melt against his tenderness.

  “You good?” he asks.

  “How could I not be good? Best. Sex. Ever.”

  He laughs at that, and inches out of me. “Really?”

  I exhale a contented breath and roll to my side. He slides in behind me, the big spoon to my little one. “Of course. How could it not be? I’m dreaming.”

  3

  Cason

  What the ever loving fuck?

  I just had the best sex of my life with Kinsley, and this whole time she thought she was dreaming? I hug her body to mine, her warm scent washing over me as her breathing slows, changes. As she falls asleep my brain zaps to life, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

  Okay, I came to this room expecting to find Emily, but the second Kinsley spoke, I knew it was her. I was ready to scream “abort” and run for the hills, until she wrapped her arms around me and devoured my mouth with hers, letting me know exactly how she wanted to play this mistake out. Although it sure didn’t feel like a mistake.

  Still, it was, and the right thing would have been to put a stop to it, but her body was so goddamn warm, and lush, and I’m just a simple man at heart—driven by baser needs. When she wrapped her legs around me, there wasn’t a single man on the face of this earth with enough willpower to walk away from that.

  Am I right, or am I right?

  But what I’m supposed to do next is beyond me. I don’t normally do sleepovers, but this is Kinsley I’m holding. My good friend, Kinsley—who was in some semi-sleep state while we had the most incredible, mind blowing sex in the dark of the night.

  Do I stay?

  Do I bail?

  Do I pretend this never happened and we laugh it off come morning? Oh, yeah, how funny would this be: Hey Kins, I came in here to fuck Emily, but found you instead, and you know me, any warm body will do.

  I hardly think she’d find that laughable. I certainly don’t.

  Jesus. I don’t want her to think she was nothing more than a warm body for me—that’s fucking demeaning and wrong. I have a reputation sure, but I don’t for one second want her to think none of this meant anything. The honest to God’s truth is she was my first choice, but I walked away from that because of our friendship.

  Which now could be in jeopardy. Could be? No, it definitely is.

  Way to screw things up, dude.

  I briefly close my eyes, as her soft breathing sounds do little to relax me. We’re obviously going to have to talk about this mistake, but I’m not so sure I should be here when she wakes up. That might just make things all that much more awkward. I inch away, and instantly miss her heat. Odd, considering I’m the guy who’s quick to bail. I move around in the dark, and stub my toes on the corner of the bed.

  Fuuuuuuck.

  I hop around like a frog jacked up on Red Bull and clench down on my jaw to stifle a barrage of curse words. She moans in her sleep and with my foot in my hand, I stop bouncing around. I stand perfectly still as I wait for her to settle. She finally goes quiet and I gather my clothes. I hurry into them and do one last check in the dark to see if I left any traces of our night behind, but can’t make out a goddamn thing.

  I open the door as quietly as possible, and it clicks shut behind me. Bending forward, I brace my hands on my knees, and suck in a few deep breaths. Voices sound in the distance, and I straighten to my full height. Since I’m completely worked up, I can’t imagine I’ll get any sleep tonight.

  I head down to the casino and grab a drink at the bar. A cute blonde settles herself on
the stool beside me.

  “Hi Cason.”

  “Hey,” I say, and swirl the whiskey in my cup.

  “I’m such a huge fan.”

  I cast her a smile. “Nice, thanks,” I say and take a big drink of my whiskey. I welcome the burn down my throat, as I think about the mess I’ve gotten myself into.

  “Would you mind autographing something for me?”

  Any other time, I might have considered taking the blonde to bed, but now, I’m too fucked over and need to get my head on straight before I make any more mistakes tonight.

  “Yeah, sure,” I say and hold my hand out for a pen. She puts a marker in my hand, and opens her blouse to reveal breasts barely contained in a tiny lace bra. “Ah, yeah, okay.” I scribble my name across her breasts when I spot Liam coming our way. He’s not steady on his feet, and I’m guessing he lost his chance with Emily every bit as much as I had.

  Oh, but you won something so much better.

  He slaps me on the back. “Hey bud,” he says.

  “Liam, this is…” I pause and wait for the girl to give me her name.

  “Lexi,” she says.

  “Liam, meet Lexi. What a cute couple you two make.” I hand the marker to Liam, and slide from the stool, and Lexi jiggles her tits, looking for another signature.

  I head back to my hotel room, and before I climb into bed, I put a call in for breakfast, for my room and Kinsley’s. Tomorrow we’ll have to talk—I think—and I don’t want her hangry, plus I feel shitty for bailing. I snort. Like food is really going to make this all better.

  I flop down onto my bed still dressed, and the next thing I know, there is a knock at my door. I blink my eyes open to discover it’s not the middle of the night like I assumed. After that terrific round of sex, I’d obviously fallen into a deep sleep. Christ, my body hadn’t been that worn out since our playoff games.

  I push to my feet and rake my hand through my hair as I stumble toward the door. The fresh scent of coffee helps perk me up and I give the guy a big tip. I check my phone and groan. With so much going on, I’m not sure I’m going to have a chance to talk to Kinsley alone.