Bitter Edge : A Hero Club Novel Read online

  Chapter 33

  Spencer

  I place our empty dinner plates back on the trolley cart as Cierra pours us a second glass of wine. We decided to push the two small tables in front of the couch together to make one very oddly shaped larger one. We sat on the floor for a more upscale casual picnic.

  Cierra wanted to sit facing the marina so she could watch the sun settle lower and lower in the sky. As our dinner went on, an orangey cast blended with her pale brown skin to create a nearly golden glow. There was an extra sparkle to her eyes, along with the rosy glow she gets at the top of her chest when she’s had a couple drinks.

  We’ve settled into a few comfortable topics that we’ve never attempted. I’ve met her parents but didn’t know much about them besides their occupations and the small talk we made at dinner. Cierra went into detail about how they met and married. They were high school sweethearts, much like my parents. Her father was the star tight end in high school and in college. Her mother was a dancer.

  I finally understood why she wanted to start skating. In two words, Kristi Yamaguchi. She saw a part of herself in her from a very early age. She’d watch her programs over and over, and in typical Cierra fashion, she hounded her parents until they caved and gave her lessons. Not bad for a two-year-old.

  I knew who Kristi was because she is married one of my idols, Bret Hedican. He graduated from the same college my dad did, years later. He had his Olympic dream, a healthy and successful pro career, and what eluded me: the Stanley Cup. As it turns out, Cierra met Kristi for the first time at the same event I’d met Bret.

  Cierra took a deep sip of wine. “Starting to look like we were supposed to meet each other.”

  “I don’t believe in fate, Cierra.”

  “You don’t?”

  “No. I don’t. I’ve seen too much.”

  “For someone who likes to cheerlead and coach, you sure can be negative.”

  I shrug my shoulders before I kiss her cheek and exit through the open balcony door to the cooling breeze. I can see why she wanted to look over the water. The shallow rolls of the water end up being like a lullaby for the soul. The gentle lap of the waves against everything, the distant bells and horns of incoming and outgoing boats are interrupted by the sound of familiar tunes from one of Cierra’s other requests, my playlists.

  I have a thing for nineties music, but she seems to have found my R&B mix. She knows exactly what she’s doing. Usher. Ne-Yo. Boyz II Men. Damn. I wrap my fingers tight around the railing. She admitted to me she’s nervous. I don’t know if I’m nervous or ultimately with a strong sense of how much meaning the next few hours could have.

  “I’m sorry if I hurt you with what I said,” she calls softly from the open doors.

  “You didn’t.”

  I can feel the space between our bodies close. It’s funny what you start to notice when you pay attention. I can pick her perfume out of a sea of scents. I can hear her laugh in a crowded room. Her hands start at my waist and slide up either side of my spine.

  Like the roll of those waves, I move in and take her hand to bring it to my chest. Her petite frame has to press against me. I feel her lips between my shoulder blades with a turn of her cheek. Her fingers begin to pick and play with my tee shirt under my hand.

  Without letting go, I turn to face her. Her head tilts a little to her left. It’s like she’s studying me or trying to commit this moment to memory. Trust me, Cierra, I’m doing the same.

  I lean us back a bit to that railing and pull her closer. She has to adjust her feet to accommodate my long legs that jet between hers. “May I kiss you?”

  “Yes. I want you to.”

  “You can say no at any time.”

  “Broten,” she scolds, “stop talking.”

  I give her a casual smile before I go for her lips. I discover something new about them every time. They’re always soft. They’re always warm. This time they have a hint of cherry to them, mixed with a little bubbly wine and chocolate. Cierra is the ultimate dessert.

  She tugs at the hem of my tee shirt to allow her hands access to my abs. Each finger does a graceful dance up and down from the center to my rib cage. Each soft noise she makes ignites one in me. As I rise back to my full height, I feel her elevate to her toes. I wrap my arms at her waist, lifting her once more against my chest.

  Her arms instinctively wrap around my neck and she knocks the hat from my head to gain access to my hair. I’m not going to lie, it’s literally my favorite thing a woman can do for me. In the right circumstances, I swear I could come hard on that alone.

  Her nails slowly draw patterns on my scalp that send shock waves everywhere in my body. I take careful steps backward toward the balcony door that leads to the bedroom. I’m able to open the sliding door with one finger and pull her into the quickly darkening room.

  There’s a gentle light coming from beyond the cracked bathroom door and juxtaposed with the setting sun on the opposite side. I linger in our kiss a little longer before I set her down. The pout of her lips and the pant of her chest lets me know her question before she even asks it. “Let me get the music. I’m not going anywhere.” She visibly relaxes while I find it increasingly difficult to walk to grab said iPod. Jesus, it’s been a long time.

  While I’d love to leave the music on the current trajectory, I know what she’d like to hear. While she showered this morning, I took a chance and downloaded the soundtrack to her favorite movie. It’s mainly instrumental and perfect for this to be the memory she’ll have with it going forward.

  As I cue the music and close the bedroom doors, locking us in, she steps out of her sandals, facing away from me. Her hands rub up and down the soft skin of her forearms. “Cold?”

  “No. Just the opposite. The music does give me chills though. It’s kind of perfect.”

  “There’s that word again.”

  “Spencer, don’t try too hard. I don’t want this to be all about me. I’d like to think it’s about us.”

  “You’re not wrong, Cierra.” I extend my hand to her. “As you’ve seen I’m not great at it, but would you like to dance?”

  “You sway how I need you to and yes, I would.”

  I bring her in close, but she stops me with only a few inches before our connection. She crosses her arms over the front of her body, takes hold of the hem of her top, and raises it over her head. She shakes her hair free and drops the nearly sheer top behind her.

  Her pale lilac lace demi bra allows her breasts to be full, at attention, and so fucking delicious looking, all I want to do is taste them. I reach my right hand back to between my shoulder blades, take a fistful of my shirt, and yank it over my head, tossing it quickly to a pile with hers.

  “I want to learn that trick someday.”

  “It’s a trade secret.”

  “Cute. Very cute.” Cierra leans in and kisses my right pec then my left. I can feel my eyes roll back. She is pushing me to my limits and testing my every resolve. I would love nothing more than to simply toss her down on the bed to furiously make love to her. She deserves more than that animalistic bullshit.

  She holds both of her hands against my chest with a subtle resistance. “What?” I ask, “What is it?”

  Cierra looks down toward our feet, “Last night I was all dressed up. I felt super confident and sexy. I was putting myself out there as me, but the fierce me; she’s not here today. If I’m honest…” she pauses as she looks into my eyes, “if I’m honest, I’m a scared girl wondering what to do.”

  My God. Again, when she decides to open up, she really goes for it. “Hey. I’m here for you. You can take that in a thousand different ways, and all will be true. Do you want me to take over?”

  I can see her wrestle with the decision. She’s often spoke of how she wants more control; however, I can see in her eyes she may be willing to let this one go. “We’re going to be safe, right?”

  “What I said yesterday still stands. I’m safe every time. Always.”

  “
Then yes. Take me.”

  I kiss her softly before asking her not to move from her position standing at the foot of the bed. I toss the extra pillows to the floor and pull the sheets back. The bed is now open and waiting for us. Next, I pull the sheers over the sliding glass door. They will blow a bit in the breeze, adding to the romantic setting I’m pretty sure she wants.

  As I circle back, her eyes follow my every move. I can see her breathing start to work overtime. The usual slow rise and fall of her chest is back to a pant. Her tongue darts in and out every so often to wet her plump lips. The glow of the setting sun glistens off of them. I need another taste.

  I cup her face once more and let our lips and tongues do the dance that not long ago our feet were doing. As our lips part, I pay special attention to her shoulders. I trace lazy lines beneath the straps of her bra. Chill bumps erupt on her skin almost instantly. That tells me I need to go even slower with her. She’s ultra-responsive and I want her to feel and remember everything.

  I whisper her next instruction, “Cierra, take my jeans off. I’ll help you but I want to feel your hands do it.”

  She gasps softly before she reaches between us and carefully follows her hand with her eyes, as she extends my zipper lower and lower until it’s run out of real estate. She slowly crouches before me and tugs the denim, allowing it to skim every inch of my skin.

  Fucking hell.

  My whole body is at attention. I need to see her. All of her. “May I?” I slowly reach for the buttons of her shorts.

  She nods as she retracts her torso to let my fingers have room to work. I wouldn’t let anything stop me at this point. Her light-washed, button-up denim shorts are quick work. It takes one rip at the top and every button opens like a row of falling dominos.

  I don’t know where she gets her bras and panties, but fuck if I don’t want to high-five every worker in there for helping her pick these out. Lace boy shorts that cut just so across her backside. As I crouch before her, as she did me, I give a kiss to her thigh and take a feel of her beautiful lace-covered globes. They fit perfectly in my hands.

  I rise slowly, brushing against her whole body on the way up, leaving a kiss or two strategically behind. We’re now even. That’s what I wanted her to see. Even though she’s nervous and unsure, she’s still in control and has full power over me. Which in this moment, I’m totally fine with.

  We’ve come this far before. She’s stood here for me like this. I need to show her it’s only the beginning this time. I focus my attention back on the straps of her bra I toyed with before. I trace the lines again, but this time I hook underneath them and skim them off her shoulders.

  The cups of delicate material hold tight around her full breasts. I cup the right side of her face in my hand as I lean in and kiss the side of her neck. She reaches for my waist in an attempt to remain standing, I think. Her nails graze over my skin. This time the chill bumps belong to me.

  I turn her around quickly so I can press against her back. Selfishly I need two things right now: my nose in her hair and the clasp of this bra to be my bitch so the lace can be on the floor. I inhale deep as my fingers make easy work of the hooks and eyes.

  My hands trace over her rib cage on both sides to meet in the middle and rise to palm her in my hands for the first time. Everything about her is petite and perfect. This is no exception. She fits warm and perfect. I give them a gentle squeeze and the first low groan of many, I hope, fills my ears.

  “Are you all right?” I whisper.

  Her response is to mingle her left hand with mine and to reach back for my thigh with her right. She’s slowly shifting her weight back and forth, side to side. That’s it, Princess. This is what I mean about feeling. Let it build.

  The music in the background is now only white noise. My every focus is on her and what sounds she’s making. I give her right nipple a smooth roll between my fingers. She hisses a bit. To add to the hopeful chaos inside her, I press my lips from her shoulder, marking my territory, up one side of her neck and down the other, back to her other shoulder. Sometimes I add a quick nibble for good measure.

  My intention of drawing our foreplay out is being betrayed by not only her hands, which have now claimed two parts of my body to anchor her closer—if that was even possible—but also my cock, which is at full mast between us. Her ability to use her balance and core is killing me as she gently rotates her hips. I know without a doubt we’ve reached the point of in or out.

  “Cierra, do you want to stop?”

  “No. Just…” She stops.

  “Just what?” I ask.

  “Go slow.”

  “Don’t worry. I intend to.” I release her and she exhales with a whoosh. I leave my voice soft and low. “Hold still. Don’t move.”

  I want her to be unafraid. I want her to be comfortable. I want to love her.

  I quietly tug at my boxer briefs and lower them to the floor, kicking them aside.

  “Cierra, look at me.”

  I take a couple steps back before she can turn. I’m out of the glow of the sunset but I know she’ll be able to see me well. She turns after a moment with her arms crisscrossed over her body. She’s looking toward me but not at me.

  “I wanted you to see me, so you’ll feel more comfortable. Are you?”

  She hesitates before answering. “Yes and no.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re so confident…and beautiful.”

  “Cierra, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. It’s taking everything I have right now not to touch you. Your curves are perfection. The warm glow of your skin is inviting. I need to apologize to you for not realizing sooner the extent of amazing you are.”

  I’m not a poet but she makes me feel that way. Love makes you feel that way. An old hair band once said, ‘You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.’ Holy shit is that ever true. I miss hockey more than I’ve missed anything in my entire life…until now.

  My dad always told me something will come that will fill the gap. I didn’t know that was true until this moment. She fills that gap. If I hadn’t blown my knee, I wouldn’t be training clients. If I hadn’t been training, I wouldn’t have found her. If I hadn’t found her, I wouldn’t have found what I was truly missing, and that’s my heart. I didn’t have anything to give my heart to until she stole it, and I’m more than happy she did.

  I think for her it all boils down to trust. Can she trust those around her? Can she trust her body? Will she ever trust herself again? As I feel the shift in myself, she feeds off it as well. This is the moment everything will change.

  As Cierra processes what I’ve confessed, her body language evolves. Her arms lower, she stands up a little straighter, her chin rises so our eyes meet. She’s spent the whole day finding her heart again. I want her to share it with me.

  She slides her thumbs down in the seams of her boy shorts and pushes them over her thighs. She shifts her weight back and forth until they are at her ankles. Then, with her pink painted toe, she tosses them toward my feet. I smile on the inside. She’s still the predator. She’s tossed them at me as a gauntlet. Her transfer of power is intoxicating and I’m all too happy to accept.

  Chapter 34

  Cierra

  I’m not sure if he’s aware, but he smiles with his eyes even if his lips don’t match. My panties at his feet were the next in the line of times I’ve busted him doing that. I hope he stands there for a few seconds longer. I want to memorize everything about him.

  I’ve done that for months, if I’m honest, with his clothes on. This, however, is a totally different experience. It’s true I’ve done things with boys before, not many, and they were that, boys. Spencer is a man in the truest sense of the word.

  I know he wants to give me physical space to allow me time to process this. What I’m processing is how we’ve gone from strangers to teammates of a sort, to adversaries; to someone we want to be with all the time, to now crossing into partners.

  What h
e may not understand is how long I’ve waited for someone who I felt deserved this from me. When I’m on the ice, I’m alone. I’ve felt alone for years. In this sport, you begin training so young that you don’t know any other way. Everything is done singly.

  I’ve had support but not this type of support. As a young girl, it was never really about happily ever afters. It was about winning this or achieving that. I was craving the balance. I need both. I’ve grown up fast. Not fast enough for some and likely too fast for others, except in this area.

  I’ve felt behind. I’ve watched other rink mates and the couple of friends I do have blow past me. They have that person who takes care of them, for the lack of a better phrase, inside and out. I want that now and it’s all because of Spencer.

  Every time I’d get pissed off when something wouldn’t come to me fast enough, be it a skill, move, jump, or endorsement, my Dad would tell me either, “Good things come to those who wait.” or “It will be there when you least expect it.” I hate to say it, but he was right.

  Spencer came to me at one of my lowest points. I gave him hell and he gave it right back. I hated him for it, and I know he hated me but here we are. He did the toughest thing for me today. He put me in a scary place because he cares more than he’s told me. He cares more about me in a way now I’m ready for.

  I knew it last night in Vegas when he looked at me like he’s looking at me now. It’s a look with the intensity in which I train, the respect I give the ice, and the hunger I feel to win. Only, I’m the prize, my heart and body are the prize.

  He is the one who’s beautiful. His body is a little bronzed. His blond hair is an absolute adorable mess. His Celtic knot necklace rests in the perfect spot below the notch in his neck. His body is as toned as any athlete I’ve ever seen. The ripples of his muscles have ripples.

  The arm porn I’ve seen many times isn’t the only kind he possesses. The calves are a very overlooked part of the body and his ass…there are no words. I could look at him for days and find something new every time, but I’m ready. I’m ready now to give him what I’ve waited my adult life to give. Me. He deserves me.