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  Now, here he was, sitting on the stoop outside Shelby’s building like a sad puppy waiting for her to get home. He’d been there about half an hour when she came walking down the street with a guy in Cajun Rage gear.

  What the hell?

  Each of them was carrying the distinctive hot-pink cups that everyone in Harbor City recognized on the spot as being from the city’s favorite LuLu’s Pink Lemonade Cupcake Emporium. During the offseason, he ordered Uber Eats from there on the regular.

  He stood up slowly, not wanting to scare her. He knew the moment she spotted him. Her steps faltered and her eyes rounded as an electric jolt of awareness shot between them, holding him to her steps as she drew nearer.

  “Ian,” she said, her gaze locked on him as a small, almost shy smile curled her lips. “What are you doing here?”

  He was beyond the bullshit of coming up with some lame excuse. “Waiting for you.”

  Her smile deepened and her gaze dropped to the sidewalk as she fiddled with something in her pocket. He could watch her for hours, the way she rubbed her fingers over the short side of her hair when she was thinking things over, the snap in her eyes when she was giving him shit, the way she laughed, the sound escaping from her as if it were a surprise each time—all of it totally and completely Shelby.

  So focused on drinking in every single aspect of her, Ian had nearly forgotten about the man with her until the guy cleared his throat and started talking.

  “That was a helluva game. The last call really should have gone our way.” He held out his hand to Ian. “Bill Henny. I’m with the Rage, and I’ve been trying to get Shelby here to switch teams, but she’s pretty determined to stay with y’all.”

  Even the idea of her leaving Harbor City had him squeezing the other man’s hand harder than necessary when they shook.

  Shelby rolled her eyes and looked at the other man as if this were a conversation they’d had multiple times. “As much as I love you, Bill, I’m not gonna say yes.”

  “Our loss, Harbor City’s gain.” Bill checked his phone as a car with a Lyft sticker slowed down. “Looks like this is me. Next time you’re in New Orleans, it’s my turn to treat.”

  “Deal.”

  Standing side by side, Ian and Shelby watched the car drive away. It wasn’t until it turned the corner at Towson Street that he realized they were holding hands. Being this close to her and not touching her had somehow become unnatural, no matter the zip code they were in.

  He walked her up to her door, wishing with each step that they were farther away so he could spend even that little extra amount of time with her. “Can I come in?”

  Her sigh said so much without using a single word, but when she looked up at him, the light from the streetlamp highlighting her dark hair, there was no missing the way she looked at him as if she didn’t want him to go, either. He had no idea how they’d gotten to this place of want-but-can’t-have—it made no sense. Together, they made sense.

  “We both know what will happen if you come in,” she said, stepping nearer to him as if she couldn’t help but be as close to him as possible. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

  “Probably not.” He glided his fingertips over the sensitive shell of her ear, relishing the way her breath hitched as desire darkened her eyes. “But after the game, you were the first person I wanted to see, the first one I wanted to talk to.”

  “Ian, that’s not fair,” she said, her voice breathy. “At the cabin, we agreed it would be once.” She pressed her palm to his chest over his heart. “In the hotel, you were supposed to keep your hands in your pockets.” She took a half step closer, eliminating any space between them as they stood touching, their faces close enough that they were practically kissing. “Now what’s the limit we’ll set?”

  The temptation to dip his head just the smallest bit needed to complete the kiss was overwhelming, but this had to be her call. “Only when we beat the most hated team in Harbor City?”

  She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth as she shook her head. “I should say no.”

  “I shouldn’t even be here.” But there was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be. Even if they never left this top step, if he was with Shelby, it felt right.

  She took a quick step back, breaking contact between them and putting in the passcode on the building’s security keypad. “Should we pretend you’re just coming up for coffee?”

  “I don’t mind if we end up in the kitchen.”

  The kitchen, though, was exactly where they ended up. They rushed up the two flights of her walk-up, stopping to kiss every other step. It was nothing but hands everywhere, clothing being loosened, and anticipation riding high. They barely got in the front door before their clothes were coming off.

  “You did say kitchen, right?”

  He picked her up, carried her into her tiny kitchen, and sat her down on top of the table. Her shirt was halfway off and she made quick work of getting it the rest of the way gone.

  His balls tightened at the sight of the high curves of her tits pushing against the black lace of her bra. The material gave just enough of a glimpse of her dusky pink nipples beneath to make pre-cum wet the tip of his dick.

  “Are you okay if I fuck you long and hard right here in this kitchen?” He skimmed his hands down her sides before moving his fingers to the button of her black leather pants; then he popped it out, relishing the way her breath hitched. He pulled off her pants and dropped them on the floor, revealing a tiny scrap of lace that was the only thing covering her core. The sight gave him the perfect idea. “Lay back on the table, Shelby.” He let out a hiss of a breath when she complied, spreading her legs as she did so. “Damn, you’re so wet for me already, aren’t you?”

  She shot him a wicked grin. “Since I saw you sitting on my steps.”

  It could be her answer or the sight of her like that had him to yank down his jeans, pull her panties to the side, and drive straight and hard into her. Either way, she nearly squeezed the air out of his lungs. Something hungry and needy inside him demanded release to claim her, to make her his.

  He didn’t question it. Really, he didn’t question anything when it came to Shelby. The woman was different from anyone else he’d ever met. She didn’t look at him and see the shadow of someone better. She saw him.

  The center of her dark panties was several shades darker than the rest, and he breathed in the intoxicating scent of her arousal as he slid his thumb across her covered clit. She let out an appreciative moan and pushed her hips higher, pressing against his thumb.

  “I love seeing you like this, so hot and ready.” Ian slid the lace down her legs and dropped it to the floor.

  He ran the backs of his knuckles across her exposed wet folds, so lightly that he was barely touching but more than enough to have both of them straining for more.

  Her thighs trembled. “Fuck, Ian.”

  His cock twitched in anticipation. “That’ll come later.”

  First he wanted to watch her ride that wave. He slid a finger into her entrance, circling it so it rubbed against every millimeter of her, slow and steady. Her thighs quivered and she lifted her hips in a silent plea for more.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  She grabbed the edges of the table as if she had to anchor herself to reality. He understood the need exactly, except he was anchoring himself to her. Nothing felt more right than that. Forget one-night rules or zip-code requirements or anything else. This was where he belonged—with Shelby always.

  “So slick. So soft. Let’s see how you taste.” The truth was, he couldn’t wait any longer.

  Lowering his mouth to her core, he lapped at her folds as she twined her fingers through his hair in encouragement. She didn’t have to worry; he’d give her whatever she wanted. He glided his tongue across her clit, hard enough to push her to the edge but soft enough to leave her wa
vering on it without going over. Mouth, tongue, and fingers, he used them all to take her higher, to make her feel at this moment the way he felt about her every time he saw her—that rush of excitement and desire and something more that made being with her different. He couldn’t explain it. He didn’t understand it. He just needed her. Period.

  …

  Shelby was on the edge. With each touch, each lick, the pleasure pulsed through her, She’d known it would be like this from their first kiss in the cabin—an almost desperate need for him and him alone. The electric vibrations in her thighs built higher and higher until her orgasm broke.

  A blissful haze surrounded her, making any movement seem like it was beyond possibility, but she couldn’t let it take over just yet. She needed more. She needed Ian. Sitting up, she looked at him standing between her legs, a lusty gleam darkening his eyes, his lips wet with her pleasure, and the clear outline of his hard cock visible against his jeans.

  She got down from the table and reached behind her to unfasten her bra, slipping it off and dropping it to the floor. He, however, had too many clothes on. Without hesitation, she grasped the hem of his T-shirt and yanked it up, pulling it over his head, and tossing it away. Next, she went to work on his jeans, lowering the zipper, barely breathing as she did so, desperate to feel him.

  Lowering herself to her knees as she took down his jeans and boxer briefs, she held her breath as his hard cock appeared, the tip wet with pre-cum. Some things weren’t meant to be resisted. She licked and teased the head, sucking him into her mouth and relishing the resulting moan of appreciation. Then she took him deeper, teasing him with her tongue and sucking him hard as he rocked his hips in perfect rhythm with her mouth. It was so good how he filled her mouth. Even though she’d already come, her body was revving up for more, her core aching and desperate for Ian—only Ian.

  Giving him one last lick, she looked up at him. “I need you inside me.”

  Eyes dark with desire, he sat down on the kitchen chair. “I’m here for whatever you want.”

  Best. Answer. Ever.

  She swiped a condom from her purse and rolled it on his hard cock. Then, unable to wait any longer, beyond desperate for him, she braced her hands on his shoulders and lowered herself, taking him in completely in one long, torturously amazing stroke. He filled her, giving her exactly what she needed. He always did.

  Ian wasn’t hers, not the way she wanted him to be, but she couldn’t deny him. Being with him was beyond dangerous, but she couldn’t stop and didn’t want to. She rocked against him on the downward thrust as her nails dug into his shoulders.

  “That’s it, Shelby,” he said, his hands on her hips, lifting her and bringing her back down on him hard. “Take what you want.”

  It was all the encouragement she needed. She rocked against him, lifting herself up and down on his thick cock, losing herself in Ian. The closer she got to the edge, the more her body buzzed with an impending orgasm, the more she knew she wasn’t lost. She’d finally found herself—not in him but with him.

  She loved him.

  Up and down, she undulated her hips, grinding against him on each downward stroke. Hard and fast, bordering on desperate, their bodies crashed together until she tossed her head back and came, groaning his name. He grasped her hips hard, moving her against him until he thrust upward one last time and came.

  She collapsed against him, wrapping her arms around him as they sat in the chair, both breathing hard. Her clothes littered the floor from the front door to the table. His jeans were still on, just shoved all the way down to his ankles. The mail she’d brought in this morning and left on the table was scattered across the kitchen. Marv swam quick circles around his bowl on the counter, obviously in betta fish attack mode by the disturbance.

  Ian Petrov had thrown her well-ordered life into chaos. Normally she’d hate that, but with him? It felt right. It felt perfect.

  And that’s what made her whole body clench. She’d fallen for the guy who thought of her as a fuck buddy. Sure, they got along and had fun hanging out, but they weren’t dating—they hadn’t even gone out on a date! This should just be pheromones in action, sexual attraction getting the best of them, having a good time. Instead, her heart had gotten involved—but not his.

  How in the hell had she let this happen?

  She got up and started gathering her clothes, the realization making her hands shaky and her breath quick. “I can’t do this, Ian.”

  She thought she could. She had before. But with him, it was different. It mattered more—she should have realized it that night in the cabin in front of the fire. Whatever was between them, it wasn’t one-night-stand material—at least not for her.

  “Can’t do what?” he asked as he dropped the condom in her trash and pulled up his pants.

  She waved her hand between them. “This.”

  He stopped cold in the middle of her kitchen, and she watched as he transformed right before her eyes from the Ian she knew to the one who had faced off against the reporters. “I thought you were having fun.”

  Fun. That’s all it was for him, and she knew this. They’d been up front from the beginning.

  “It was amazing. You’re amazing.” But there was no way she could guard her heart against him. Really, it was too late for that. “I just can’t.”

  He looked down at the tile floor and rubbed the back of his neck, the muscles in his jaw flexing. Tension flowed off him as he took a long, slow breath but when he lifted his head, there wasn’t a single solitary expression on his totally neutral face.

  Finally, he spoke, his voice low and gravelly. “I guess I’ll go, then.”

  Her whole body ached as she stood there naked in her kitchen, her clothes pressed to her middle like a shield, as he put on his shirt and started toward the door. Biting the inside of her cheek to stop from crying, she inhaled a deep breath.

  It had to be done. It would be worse the longer she let this go on. She knew all of that. It still hurt like she’d been dropped from the top of the Ice Knights arena.

  He was halfway out the door before she got herself under control enough to talk. “I’m sorry.”

  He looked back at her, his jaw squared, his eyes focused on a spot over her left shoulder—but there was something in his eyes, a flash fight that gave her hope. She was walking toward him before she even realized it. Then it was gone and so was he, out the door, shutting it softly behind him.

  And that’s when the tears finally started to fall.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Putting on makeup before the team’s annual skate with Harbor City’s junior hockey athletes at Center Park rink had taken some extra time. Staying up half the night staring at the ceiling had given Shelby enough bags under her eyes for a two-week vacation. But when the emergency call had come in this morning that three of the staff scheduled to work the event had called in sick, of course she said yes, she’d help out.

  Now she was standing in front of the rink door with Lucy, who was giving Shelby the rundown on her bouncer duties. It was chaotic, overwhelming, and the perfect activity for a day when she couldn’t afford to let herself think about Ian and what could have been.

  “Take this.” Lucy handed her a clipboard with the guest list on it. “And this.”

  Shelby glanced down at the plastic squirt bottle Lucy held out. Okay, the guest list she got. This was a special event for the Ice Knights with a chance to meet and skate with all the grade-school-age skaters who played in the mini-mite games between periods to entertain the crowd. But a squirt bottle? That she had no idea about.

  Shelby took the bottle. “What’s this for?”

  “The park has a feral-cat problem, and for some reason they love the rink,” Lucy said, scanning the crowd of reporters and photographers outside the arena like a general taking stock of opposing forces. “The last thing we need is for one of them to get in here, g
et freaked out by all the kids, and then take a swipe at little Mikey or Jenny.”

  “What’s in it?”

  “Just water, but it does the trick.” She took a closer look at Shelby. “You doing okay?”

  So much for her fine makeup skills. Who ever knew when to use the green cover-up or the peach cover-up or the dark brown?

  “I’m amazing,” Shelby said, putting enough fake cheer in her tone to be a Christmas commercial. “Totally excited to be a part of this.”

  “You are the worst liar I’ve ever met,” Lucy said with a disbelieving chuckle. “Okay, well, no one who’s not on the list can gain access—not even Wayne Gretzky. No press. No nothing. This one-on-one time with the kids is a sacred event for the Ice Knights.”

  An hour later, the rush of kids and their parents had slowed and she finally had time to scan the area for attack kitties and pretend she wasn’t spending every other breath thinking about Ian. She’d made the right decision to cut things off completely, even if it made her feel like shit—at least that’s what she kept telling herself to squelch all the maybe-I-could or if-only-I-did thoughts swirling around her head and making her heart ache.

  “Hey, Stacey, right?” David Petrov strolled up to the entrance flanked by two guys with press badges around their necks.

  “Shelby,” she said, more than used to people mixing up her name that way.

  “Oh man. Sorry about that. Too many hits to the noggin.” With an amused chuckle, he tapped the top of his head with his knuckles. “Don’t suppose you can let me inside to go find my boys.”

  Her gut twisted. The man was obviously trying to make amends with Alex and Ian. She could understand how hard that was and admired his determination to set things right, but a skate with fifth graders may not be the time to do it—especially with Lucy’s instructions.

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that.” If Wayne Gretzky couldn’t get in, David Petrov couldn’t, either. “It’s just for the junior athletes and the team. I can let them know and they can call you after it’s over?”