Chapter 7

When you're overwhelmed and you've lost your breath
When the space between the things you know is blurry nonetheless.
When you try to speak but you make no sound
And the words you want are out of reach but they've never been so loud

If your heart wears thin I will hold you up
And I will hide you when it gets too much
I'll be right beside you
I am right be right beside you

I will stay.
Nobody will break you.

Trust in me, trust in me.
Don't pull away
Trust in me, trust in me.
I'm just trying to keep this together, because I could do worse and you could do better

(Lyrics from ‘Beside You’ by Marianas Trench)

The living room was not a part of the house Mike had had much use for. In fact he treated his house in Calgary a lot like a hotel or, as his mother called it, a frat house. Friends came to stay but most of the activities he preferred in the summer months were outdoor pursuits. The result was that other than the bedrooms and bathrooms, most of this house had a distinctly un-lived in look and the fireplace had never, ever been used even though there had been a pile of wood and newspaper sitting in it since the day he’d moved in. Still, Mike thought as he checked that the chimney flue was open, this was better than staying in the bedroom. If they’d stayed there, no matter how much he tried to be a good guy, he wasn’t going to be able to lie there next to a very beautiful and very naked girl and listen to her talk and actually hear anything she said. 

She, Chelsea, was sitting wrapped in a sheet from the bed on top of the quilt he’d dragged out here. He glanced at her now but she was still as silent as she’d been when he’d rolled off of her and suggested they take a break. That alone, he thought, should earn him a major amount of brownie points. He could think of a few guys, like Ovie and probably Brooks who would have powered through and worried about her feelings afterwards. Fucking Chelsea after she’d left the room mentally didn’t strike Mike as the kind of thing he felt comfortable doing, which is how they’d ended up in the living room. 

Mike poked at the logs as the paper under them began to burn. God knows it was warm enough that he didn’t need a fire but right at this moment, he was glad to have something to do with his hands. What he wanted to do was shake her. No, what he wanted to do was ask her what the deal was with her and that leggy cowboy, who, Mike figured had to be a good ten years her senior and if she was engaged what was she doing in his bed? 

The guy obviously made her unhappy, Mike had decided as he poked a log further into the flames, imagining it was the tall blonde with the high cheekbones. He had the overwhelming urge to ask her if she loved the guy but when he opened his mouth to give voice to the question, a strange sensation in his chest stopped him. He put his hand over his heart and grimaced. 

“What the fu....?”

“I just always thought I would, y’know?” she began, her voice muffled. He turned to look at her, at the way her chin rested on the tops of her knees as she hugged them to her chest. She glanced up at him and the barest shadow of a smile flitted across her features. “Since I was a teenager I’ve been planning my wedding, like girls do,” she added with shy smile and a shrug, “and it’s always been with him. But I now...I don’t know,” she said wistfully, her jaw working as if she were chewing on the thought. She was probably grinding her teeth, Mike knew he was.

“Can I ask a question?” He poked at the logs, not because the fire needed it but because it felt like he had to do something with his hands other than touch her, which is what he really wanted to do. She didn’t answer but he took her silence for agreement and ploughed ahead. “What’s so special about the guy anyway?” It wasn’t exactly the question he wanted to ask but it was close, as close as he could give voice too without that constriction in his chest starting up.

“Jimmy?” It sounded like she smiled when she said his name. Mike didn’t look back to see if he was right. He didn’t want to be right. “Oh...lots of things,” she replied softly. His fingers tightened around the wrought iron bar. “Less than I used to think though,” she added and this time Mike did turn to see a rueful smile tugging at the corners of her full mouth that was still swollen from his kisses. Her emerald green eyes met his just for a moment and then she was back to staring at her toes, which she wiggled as she rocked in place. “It’s just…I don’t know, I guess it’s kinda hard to explain.” 

The part of Mike’s brain that made decisions out on the ice, that was trained to assess the whole ice surface and to weigh carefully the pros and cons of every choice before committing to an action knew that asking any more questions was only picking at an open wound told him that she’d just blocked the passing lane. The kid that still lived inside of him that liked to race around, was still impressed by his slap shot and sometimes made dumb decisions decided that he could still make the pass. The man inside of him that was just beginning to realize that he wanted this woman for himself decided that even if the chances were slim, he had to try. 

“So…are you in love with the guy or what?” He looked over at her, at the way her nearly crimson curls turned copper by the light of the flames and her jade green eyes flashed when she looked up at him. He held his breath. 

“I used to think so. Right now…I’m not so sure.”

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‘What am I doing?’ she asked herself as she watched the man sitting a little too near the fire fight the urge to jump her right there and then.  She could see it in the way he had suddenly gone very still, his entire body as tense as a bow string pulled taught right before it’s fired and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he stared at her as if she had just turned into a big juicy t-bone steak right off the grill.  

‘I shouldn’t’, she told herself the same way that you do when you drool over a piece of chocolate cake you know that you shouldn’t have, but want all the more because it’s forbidden. He was like that, like breaking a diet and indulging in the richest, the most calorie laden and most addictive desert and sneaking off with it to your room so as not to share it with anyone.  

But being taboo wasn’t the only reason that had Chelsea’s blood growing distinctly warmer by the minute. 

Being with him was also like being a completely different person. A person, she had very suddenly realized that she actually wanted to be. It was like CeeCee was this little girl who had sugar plum fairy dreams about marriage and forever, about wedding dresses that looked like overgrown meringues and who followed Jimmy around like an obedient puppy. She wanted to be the Chelsea she was when she was with this man, a woman who made her own decisions and didn’t worry about what other people thought or wanted. She liked how it felt to be this woman and not just for one night.

‘You’re going to regret it’, she warned herself as she got up, the sheet she’d stripped off of his bed that held the warm musky scent of ‘boy’ still wrapped around her, and crossed the imaginary line that he was being so careful not to. Opening the sheet she enveloped him with it as she straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asked, his voice already made husky by desire, his pupils large and dark. She watched his tongue sweep out and wet his full lower lip. She stared at his mouth and nodded. “But what about…?” she didn’t let him finish the question, pressing her mouth down over his in reply.  She didn’t want to think about Jimmy. Not tonight, maybe not anymore.

The kiss was warm and syrupy, like the feeling you get when you first put a forkful of plump fluffy syrup and butter laden pancakes in your mouth; sweet and satisfying and left her wanting more. 

“Will you be my boyfriend?” she whispered coquettishly against his cheek as he kissed his way along her jaw and down to her neck. He got very still, his lips just hovering over her shoulder. For one, long, agonizing moment she thought she’d done the wrong thing, said the wrong words and ruined the entire game, and then he slowly raised his head and his dark, simmering gaze met hers’. 

“You’re gonna dump him?” he asked without even as a single hint of laughter in either his voice or his eyes. Reaching up, Chelsea ran her fingers through his thick mop of dark hair. 

“That depends,” she replied, letting her gaze slowly and flirtatiously make its way back to his, “on what your answer is.” She waited for his full mouth to twitch and then begin to turn up into the boyish smile he often wore when he looked at her but his gaze remained steely until she was almost certain that he was about to say something that was going to make her cry and then he reached up and cupped her cheek and his dark eyes softened. 

“You should just dump him, period.” It wasn’t exactly a declaration of love or even the answer to her question but his heart, she decided, was definitely in the right place. She leaned in to kiss him but he leaned back. “Promise me you will kick that dirt bag cowpoke to the curb,” he insisted, his expression deadly serious. She searched his gaze but couldn’t find even the smallest spark that would tell her that he was kidding. “Say it,” he insisted, his tone still serious but his gaze falling to her lips like he wanted to kiss her, was thinking about kissing her as much as she wanted him to. 

“Okay,” she replied, moving her mouth closer to his but his thumb was suddenly there, suddenly pressed against her mouth and he was shaking his head. 

“Nope, not good enough, I don’t think you mean it.” His voice was low and made her stomach quiver and her pussy clench and then he looked up at her and the expression in his eyes made her draw a mouthful of air sharply between her teeth.

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He could feel her heat through his sweat pants and he badly wanted to slide his dick back into her warm, tight wet core but he couldn’t and not just because of the barrier of the thick cotton between them either. Something had changed, definitely in him and maybe, if he was really lucky, in her too. 

He liked this woman, a lot. He hadn’t let himself fall for a chick in a long time. It messed with his head and fucked up his game and he’d been fucking that up enough himself lately he hadn’t needed anyone else’s help to do that. He was falling for Chelsea though and he knew, by the way his chest got tight every time he looked at her and the way, right now when she was trying to be cute and playful that he wanted to punish her and make her take him seriously that he could fall hard and completely and as much as that scared the living shit out of him, he knew that he wanted to fall for her. Even if she broke his heart, he decided as he dropped the last of the walls defending his heart and let her see how serious he was.

 “I’ve seen men like him treat women like that, like the way he talks to you. Guys like that treat women like they don’t have a mind or thoughts and feelings of their own. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes they deserve it. You don’t. I know you were kidding before...about me being your boyfriend but...I wouldn’t treat you like that; ever.” There it was. He’d put his heart out there for her to stamp on and Mike could hardly breathe as he watched those cat’s eyes of hers search his face. She was waiting for him to crack, to smile and laugh and joke around and he could of, maybe before he’d seen inside of her to that fiery woman who wasn’t ready to be tied down. 

He wanted to be the one to set her free. It was like holding a bird in your hands. He could feel her heart beating wildly, could sense her desire to spread her wings and catch the air beneath them and sail on the currents of the wind. At the same time he could practically smell her fear, could see it in the fine beads of sweat on upper lip and could feel it in the way her arms trembled as she clung to him. All he had to do was open his hands and she would have the choice; stay in his hands or fly. 

He wanted to tell her to fly, but the choice was hers’ and hers’ alone.

Chapter 6

Thought I was doing fine bout to get you off my mind
I see you face and then I'm wrapped around your pretty little finger again

I see no good reason still I'm tangled in your charms
My God you're smiling you catch my eyes
My heart is pounding deep inside

(Lyrics from ‘Wrapped’ Kelly Willis)

It had been a charged and nervous silence that had filled his big black SUV as the man she didn’t know, but felt dangerously attracted to, drove her to his home where he was now busy pulling ice packs from his freezer as if he’d been expecting trouble. 

“Boy Scout?” she asked as he carefully draped a tea towel over her forearm before arranging the ice packs from her wrist to her elbow. He met her gaze quizzically. “Always prepared?” she added, trying to picture the slightly scruffy unkempt man in front of her in a boy scout’s uniform. The vision made her smile. 

“Uh, no. I guess you could say I’m just accident prone,” he muttered, his gaze slipping from hers’ as if he wasn’t quite telling the truth. Chelsea decided to leave that alone, for now, as she bit down on her bottom lip. She’d almost retorted that she remembered him being very coordinated but she didn’t want to bring that up now and not just because her wrist was throbbing. The fact that he hadn’t tried to jump her the minute they were behind closed doors had earned him brownie points and besides that, if she had sex with him again that would make what they’d done more than a one night stand and then she’d have to tell Jimmy and that was a conversation she wasn’t sure she was ready to have. “Can I…do you want something to drink?” he asked as if he’d just realized that he had a guest in the house, or maybe it was because of the charged silence that had suddenly filled the room. She watched him pull open the fridge door to reveal mostly empty shelves, apart from some a few cans of beer, a six pack of Red Bull and some pre-packaged lime Jello. 

“Some ice water would be great,” she replied, unable to hide her grin. It was comforting to see that he was a typical guy right down to having to fish a clean glass out of the dishwasher and then try to decide whether to pour water from the Brita in the fridge or from the tap. 

“I’m not sure when I last changed this,” he explained sheepishly as he eyed the Brita jug suspiciously and then turned to the tap. She watched as the threadbare t-shirt he was wearing strain as his biceps flexed and her head swam as her gaze focused on his fingers as he slid the glass in front of her. He had thick fingers. Her body remembered them and the walls of her pussy clenched as if she could feel them working inside of her. Chelsea stared at the ice in the glass and thought about being cold as she tried to lower the sudden spike in body temperature she was experiencing. 

“So, is this place yours?” she asked, looking around, looking at anything but him as gulped the cool water. The house was modern and, for the most part clean, but unadorned, almost as if he’d just moved in. All of the furniture had a new, unused feel to it. Nothing said well loved, well used. 

“Yeah, but I’m not here much,” he replied as if he could read her mind. Chelsea put the ice packs aside and covered them with the towel and then rested her arm on top of them. “Okay I just gotta ask, did that guy…did he do that to you?” Chelsea spun in her chair, knocking the ice packs to the floor and gaped at him. 

“I fell off my horse,” she snarled and it wasn’t Jimmy she was defending. “If any man so much as raised a hand to me…it would be the last time he’d do it,” she added turning back and reaching down for one of the ice packs. He’d beaten her to it and as their fingers brushed, she was sure she got a shock that made her entire arm tingle. 

“I just hate guys that pick on someone…,” he began hesitantly, his hand still partially covering hers as he slowly, tentatively looked up into her eyes, “smaller than them.” If he’d said weaker she would have argued. The way his mouth turned up at the corners told her he had been about to and thought better of it. It made her like him even more. It also made her want to touch his face and made her wonder if the at least three days growth on his cheeks would burn her cheeks if she kissed him and that made her contemplate the feeling of all that stubble brushing against even more tender areas and those thoughts made her blush. She immediately tried to turn her face away but his reflexes were quick and he caught her cheek in his hand and then his mouth came crashing down over hers’. 

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He hadn’t meant to kiss her. That had not been part of the plan. If there had been a plan it was to give her space, to be the good guy, to make her feel safe. But the minute he’d seen the heat of desire flood her gaze Mike had forgotten about being good or caring about her space. All he’d been able to think about was her lips, her mouth and her tongue. 

She didn’t hesitate either. Her lips moved beneath his and her tongue was the first to flick out, sliding hesitantly over his bottom lip while her hands moved more decisively into his hair, grabbing handfuls and pulling his mouth harder onto hers’. 

This position was no good for his knee. It complained, shooting a sharp stabbing pain up into his thigh as he knelt at her feet, holding onto her knees, not sure if he should venture farther, waiting for her signal. He could put up with the pain, he decided, if she’d let him into the skin tight jeans that had been teasing him since he’d seen her at the hospital. 

“Does that hurt your wrist?” he asked as she dug her fingers into his shoulder. 

“I’ll live,” she replied hoarsely, her gaze focused on his mouth before she kissed him again, a searing, mind blowing, tongue twisting kiss that brought him to full attention, made his balls ache and erased all his hopes for trying to be a gentleman. He felt her fingers dig into his t-shirt and realized she was trying to literally tear it off of his body. He admired her hootzpah but doubted her strength. 

“Let me,” he reached down to pull his own t-shirt off but her hands wouldn’t budge. His shirt was bunched in her hands and she was sliding close to the edge of the chair, her legs wrapping around his back. They were going to do it on his kitchen floor. Not that there was anything wrong with that Mike thought as she literally wrapped herself around him, he hadn’t eaten there in he couldn’t remember how long and it was kind of hot that she wanted him as much as he wanted her but as he slid backwards and down, she put out a hand to steady their descent and let out a squeak as her hand pushed against the cupboard door at his back. “That hurt,” he said aloud and unnecessarily as she yanked her arm back and clutched it to her chest. “I have a thing…a wrap…upstairs,” he gestured, glancing down apologetically at his now very hard and almost painful erection as he scrambled to his feet and headed out of the kitchen and down the hallway. He heard her mutter under her breath, but she followed him up the stairs and into the bathroom where he dug out his first aid kit and pulled out an elastic bandage that he was happy to find still had those little metal clips attached to it. He was always losing those. “Arm,” he said, holding his hand out for hers’. She looked down at his hands and then up at him, eyebrow raised. 

“Boy Scout.” The way her mouth turned up at the corner as she looked up at him made him want to pick her up, put her on the sink and kiss her until he couldn’t breathe. He shook that thought off, took her hand in his and began to roll the wrap behind her thumb. Her hand looked so small in his, so fragile. He felt clumsy and protective all at the same time. 

“Too tight?” he asked as he positioned the clips in place. She flexed her fingers and he had to bite back a groan. She shook her head, carefully, gingerly rotating her arm while still leaving it in his hands. They both were left staring at her arm, unable or unwilling to face the reality that the heated moment had passed and now they were both left waiting for the other one to make a move. 

Mike ran his thumb over the back of her knuckles. He didn’t want to hurt her, not even by accident, but he did want to touch her and keep touching her. Most of all he didn’t want to let go. 

He was concentrating so hard on how small and fragile each one of her fingers was that he didn’t realize that her body had swayed closer to his until he felt the fingers on her other hand sliding up beneath his shirt along his waist and around his back. He looked down and her leaf green eyes were looking up into his. It was the only invitation he needed. Mike captured her mouth with his and kissed her gently. He couldn’t remember when or if it had ever happened before but this chaste kiss and the gentle press of her body into his side had sent a rush of blood south and he could feel her smile as she pressed her thigh against his eager hard on. 

________________________________________________________________________

Her hand slid down the back of his sweat pants and grabbed a handful off butt cheek as she pulled his body against hers’ to let him know that she was as happy about being near him as he obviously was about being near her. He was so cute. The honest to goodness look of concern on his face had made her want him even more than she had when he’d reminded her how soft his lips were and how wide his shoulders. 

“Not…not here,” he muttered, reaching back to grab her good hand and dragging her behind him down the hall and kicking open a door to a room that looked like it belonged in a college dorm. He muttered some kind of apology that sounded like ‘sorry for the mess’ but for the same reason that she found his it oddly comforting that he wasn’t smooth or self confident, she liked seeing the overflowing laundry hamper and the white tube socks peeking out of a drawer. It made her feel like it was okay to be less than perfect, made her wrapped arm seem to fit in somehow. 

She watched him grab a handful of folded t-shirts and toss them onto the floor followed by several pairs of jeans and hid a giggle behind her hand. She couldn’t imagine Jimmy ever treating his clothes that way but oddly it helped her to relax when he turned back towards her wearing an apologetic and anxious expression, as if there was a chance she’d run away screaming. She reached back to untie her halter top and found that the way he’d wrapped her arm made it awkward but just that small gesture was enough to wipe the almost stricken look from his face and then the full solid mass of him was behind her, working on the knot and then she felt both of his hands come around to cup her breasts. 

He bears the weight of them in his hands like they’re something precious, ancient and breakable. She feels his breath on her cheek as he peeks around to look down at them; such a boy. Wanting to reward him somehow, she snakes her bad arm up and over his shoulder and he doesn’t need more than the smallest hint and her lips turned up towards his to kiss her. It’s awkward, maybe not the best angle or the best kiss but it’s tender and warm and supplies a belly deep satisfaction before his thumbs roll over her nipples, flicking them, bringing them immediately to life. 

He was hard against the small of her back but he even though she could picture it, him bending her over the bed and having her right here, right now, he didn’t seem to be in any hurry. He kissed the back of her neck, her shoulders and dug his teeth into the curve of her neck, making her moan out loud. Reaching back with her good hand, Chelsea slid her hand up the length of him and then gave the head a gentle squeeze. He moaned from somewhere deep in his chest, a raw rumbling sound that soaked her panties. His hands moved down to her jeans, his fingers making short work of the brass button and fly but then he was stuck. 

“How do you even get these things on?” he asked, grabbing a hold of the only pieces of fabric not still almost attached to her skin and uselessly tugging. 

“With some difficulty,” she admitted with a grin, detaching herself from him and sitting on the edge of his unmade bed. He dropped to his knees in front of her and she couldn’t help but smile. She wasn’t used to being in charge and she liked that he let her. 

He tugged each of her dust encrusted boots off and tossed them over his shoulders. She heard them hit the floor somewhere behind him and the memory of them placed so carefully on that square of newspaper came unbidden into her consciousness. Jimmy would never treat snakeskin boots that carelessly and for once, she didn’t care. 

Not that she had time to. One minute she was looking down at his hunched form in front of her and the next thing she was on her back, her legs in the air and Mike was tugging at the ankles of her jeans. 

“That’s not going to work,” she cried out, shoving the snug denim down over her hips and wiggling like a trout in the bottom of a boat. 

“I have scissors,” he said seriously, looking around the disaster of his room.

“No!” she cried, pushing the tough fabric down and kicking it off at the same time. “These jeans cost me more than two hundred dollars. You are not cutting them up.” 

“I’ll buy you another pair,” he growled, grabbing what she’d managed to get over her feet and giving an unholy tug that nearly pulled her off of the bed altogether. She let out a squeal of surprise and reached back to grab the edge of the mattress, digging her nails in while he tugged one more time, freeing her from her skinny jeans and leaving her lying in front of him in nothing a white cotton g-string and a smile.

He stared down at her, wearing that same expression on his face that she remembered from D.C., like he’d never seen a naked woman before, like maybe he was gonna cum in his pants. It almost made her laugh except that he was so damn cute when he did it. 

“Oh god…please say I have condoms,” he muttered suddenly, reaching over to wrench the drawer entirely free from the nightstand and dumping its entire contents on the side of the bed. Chelsea clapped her hands over her mouth but could barely muffle the giggle that erupted as she watched him dig through well thumbed copies of Penthouse and the Hockey News, even tossing aside a pair of frilly purple lace panties until he came up with two small foil squares and turned to her wearing a triumphant and very boyish grin. 

“Lucky me,” she laughed as he swept the rest of the debris onto the floor, kicked aside the drawer and dove onto the bed. 

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He loved to make her laugh. He wasn’t the prankster on the team, though he was often found in the middle of more elaborate jokes, but he loved to see her smile and her laugh was like church bells Sunday morning, a church he would definitely drag his sorry ass out of bed to attend if it meant that he could have this in his bed every night he thought as knelt over her and dragged his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. She pressed her hands against his stomach and stopped him from pulling his own pants down. Instead he damn near came just watching her roll the thick grey cotton down over his hips and then, oh so carefully, pulling it out and over his rock hard erection. 

When his cock bounced in front of her and she licked her lips he groaned. If she even breathed on him he was going to blow his load. He bit down on his bottom lip, hard enough to taste the coppery tang of his own blood, as she curled her fingers around his base and opened her sweet mouth and began to guide him along her tongue and deep into the wet, warm heaven of her mouth. 

He wanted to tell her to stop. A thousand curse words seemed to slip from his lips as she wrapped her tongue around his head and licked the pre-cum as if his cock was made of rich chocolate gelato that she wanted to take her time and savor. His blood pounded in his ears as he gripped the headboard and willed himself to remain still while her lips and tongue explored every inch of him. He wanted to grab her fiery red hair and dig his fingers into it and force her mouth all the way over him. He wanted to fuck her pretty mouth. If it had been any woman but this in his bed, he would have done it to. But with her he was overcome by the need to be gentle, to be patient and so he nearly broke the headboard into splinters when she rolled those emerald green eyes up at him and slid her hand down and cupped his balls while she sucked hard on his knob. 

“Sssstop,” he hissed, feeling his balls pulling up tight. Somehow she smiled around his cock and shook her head. If her sweet mouth hadn’t been full, he was almost sure she said no. As it was it came out ‘pnffff’ and then her mouth slid, very slowly, down his full length until he could feel the back of her throat tightening around his head. “Daaammmmn!” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut tight and pounding his fist against the wall. He fought not to cum and she fought right back, digging her fingernails into his balls and urging him, very gently to slide down into her throat until silvery tears dangled from the edges of her eyes.

Mike was breathing hard in the way he’d been taught to do when he’d been crunched into the boards and couldn’t breathe. This was just like that, right down to seeing stars. He clenched his teeth. He tried counting back from one hundred. He even tried to think about that awkward drunken threesome he’d had with Ovie one night in Buffalo, but none of it stopped him from emptying his sac into her throat as his head tipped back and a war cry erupted from his throat. 

By the time he’d regained his senses she was lying there, propped up by the pillows, licking her fingers like she didn’t want to miss a drop. He wasn’t sure, but Mike didn’t think he’d ever seen anything sexier in his life. 

“You didn’t have to do that you know,” he offered, reaching for her, pulling her into him, sliding his hand down to the small of her back and wrapping a leg over both of hers in case she got any ideas about leaving. She smiled and licked her lips like she was looking for one last drop. 

“Are you kidding? I’ve always wanted to do that,” she purred and lifted her mouth up as an offering to him. He took it, ignoring his own salty aftertaste on her tongue. Most women he had been with would take a pearl necklace rather than swallow. He’d even heard of girls spitting it out afterwards. He had never, in all of the puck bunnies that had been in this bed, had a girl licking her lips like he tasted like strawberries and clotted crème. 

“Then he’s even a bigger fucking douchebag than I thought,” he whispered against the curve of her neck. It was a good damn thing she couldn’t see his face. He hated thinking about that scarecrow cowboy touching her, claiming her the way he wanted to. His cock began to twitch at the thought of it, and he rolled her beneath him, pinning her smaller, slighter body with his. She looked up at him with those big, green eyes and a smile that was pure trust. His heart stopped beating, just for a minute. He hadn’t earned that look, but he wanted to. “What’s your name?” he asked as his body hovered over hers’.

“Chelsea.” Mike tasted the name on his tongue. It was better than CeeCee but he could see where that came from now, though he decided that he still didn’t like it, would never use it.  

“Hand me one of those, Chelsea,” he eyed the condoms sitting on the edge of the bed and wondered if there was anyone he could call to bring him more. He didn’t plan on her leaving. Not for a long while. 

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She’d been a little drunk, a little more bold the last time he had moved above her like this. She’d convinced herself that it had been the tequila and her playing a part that had made her think he did things to her that made her feel like she was floating. But as he bent his head to suckle at her breast and slid between her thighs, he fit into her like a key into a lock and every nerve ending in her body seemed to light up all at once until she felt like a ball of energy, a pulsating glow as if she was being heated from within.

It wasn’t like this with Jimmy. Not that it wasn’t good with him, but this was just…different. With Jimmy she’d never felt free. He had so many rules, most of which had to do with him being in control. Plus with Jimmy it almost always felt like he was doing her the favor. With Mike it was the other way around. With Mike she didn’t feel like her breasts were too small or skin too pale and as he reached between them and slid his fingers along her clit she didn’t worry, even for a single second that it wasn’t at all ladylike to curse like a real cowboy.

“That’s it babe,” he whispered hoarsely in her ear, “cum for me. I want to feel you squeezing my dick.” Her body shuddered as he stroked her clit and drove deep into her at the same time. Jimmy didn’t talk like that. He was so intense, like he wanted to do it just right, as if there was some perfect way of doing it, some ascribed period of time it was supposed to take which also meant that if she didn’t have an orgasm and he did that it was just too bad, maybe next time, but it was once he was done it was over. “God you feel good,” he whispered, his voice croaking as if he was on the edge and was holding out for her and she was close. He probably said that to all the girls and he had to have girls. He couldn’t have got to be this good and not have had a line-up of co-eds in this bed, despite his little boy sad clown face. 

Then she wasn’t as close and didn’t want to be in this bed anymore. She felt his lips on her cheek and turned her head. Her body went still and she shut her eyes tight as she felt tears of mortification stinging in her eyes. 

“Chels?” He hovered above her and then she felt his hands cup her face. “What just happened?” His fingers dug into her face, not enough to hurt but enough that she knew he was trying to get her attention. “Where are you?” She shook her head but he waited, patiently, and she could feel him staring at her. Opening her eyes she found his dark eyes looking down into hers.

“I don’t want to be barefoot and pregnant.”

Chapter 5

Sorry for the wait on this one. It was almost done on Sunday and then I got distracted by True Blood and Mr. Eric Northman (or Jimmy in a Stetson) and then yesterday was just a disaster. But I hope I made up for the wait with a long chapter.

Never stop hoping
Need to know where you are
But one thing's for sure
You're always in my heart

I'll find you somewhere
I'll keep on trying
Until my dying day
I just need to know
Whatever has happened
The truth will free my soul

Lost in the darkness
Tried to find your way home
I want to embrace you
And never let you go

(lyrics from ‘Somewhere’ Within Temptation)

It wasn’t even nine in the morning, the sun was still fairly low in the sky as she watched him lift off his hat, tip his head back and wipe his thick, muscular forearm across his forehead. It was a familiar gesture and one that had always elicited the same reaction from her since she’d barely understood what it meant to get that twisting feeling low in her gut. Chelsea stood now, her hands cupped around a steaming mug of dark, rich black coffee and stared at the man who was both obviously avoiding her and performing for her at the same time. She appreciated the vision in front of her but not in the way she had before. It didn’t make her breathless and it should have. Right at this moment, however, what she did feel was guilt. Cleaning the stalls was as much her chore as his and one they’d almost always shared but now she stood apart, watching and giving him space as much as maintaining her distance.

“Your gran sent up some of those butter tarts you like.” She turned and beamed up at the still burly silver haired man joining her out on the front porch carrying one of those old blue and white speckled tin cups that most people use for camping. It was his cup. It would always be his cup. “She would have come up herself but then she knew you’d think she was just fussin’,” he added, taking his place beside her and looking down at where Jimmy was now sipping water, elongating his neck, the muscles in his long neck working as he swallowed. Chelsea followed the trail of the water that spilled from the corner of his mouth down across the sharp line of his jaw and onto the flat plane of his golden chest. She licked her lips. “Your gran thought you’d have been down to see her by now with some good news about you and your young man there,” her grandfather added, getting right to the point just as he always did. She felt her cheeks heat as she turned away from the distracting scenery. “So the boy hasn’t worked up his courage,” she felt her grandfather’s hand on her shoulder and then his lips on her cheek. His mustache tickled. “Well, never mind. He will. We all know that.” 

That was the problem, Chelsea thought to herself. It seemed like since the first day Jimmy had started working for her parents everyone had been saying what a nice looking couple they made. Of course she’d thought so too, then. She’d lived and breathed Jimmy since she was sixteen years old and too young to date, at least she had been according to her father. That hadn’t stopped her tagging around after him like a loyal puppy dog and it hadn’t stopped him finding reasons to come by the house for a drink of lemonade so he could sit on the porch with her while she did her homework. She’d been sure for so long now that she’d marry Jimmy and they’d live in this house and work this land together, but that had been before she’d told him he had to wait until she’d done something with her life. She just hadn’t realized that doing that would change everything. 

“I don’t gramps. I don’t know if this is what I want anymore.” She knew he wouldn’t reproach her for saying it, even though her chest tightened and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes when she said it out loud. This land had been enough for four generations of her family. 

“I never thought this place was big enough to hold you CeeCee,” her grandfather laid his arm across her shoulders and pulled her into the solid wall of his body. “But no matter where you go, just remember that this piece of heaven will always be in your heart, no matter who you decide to give it to.” He didn’t need to say more and she knew he wouldn’t ask.

_________________________________________________________________

‘Loser’, Mike put his head in his hands and forced himself to look away from the screen on his laptop. There was no red headed CeeCee in Calgary on facebook or on any other social media dating site that he could think of. He knew because he’d been surfing the net for at least a couple of hours. ‘See, told you that you should have gone after her’, he berated himself silently as he slammed the heel of his hand against his forehead.  What were the chances they’d both be in Calgary? Those chances seemed impossibly slim but now the thought of knowing she was somewhere nearby and not being able to see her had him back in the same mindset he’d been in when he’d fled DC knowing that if he hadn’t he’d spend the rest of the summer going from bar to bar searching every woman’s face for those incredibly green eyes. 

He’d told himself over and over last night not to think about her but every time he’d closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, there she was. No matter how many times he’d forced himself awake, turned over and tried not to, she was still there with her moon pale skin and her high firm breasts that fit so perfectly in his hands and her ripe warm lips that called to him so strongly he’d woken up in the early hours of the morning knowing he had to find her but not knowing where to start and now he’d exhausted every social media site he knew of. 

“Maybe you should put up some posters like for a lost cat, y’know,  give a reward or something,” his friend Paul suggested, sliding a couple of heavily buttered pieces of toast in front of him. His head was busting, what he wanted was hair of the dog, but he took a bite and chewed it slowly so it didn’t make too much noise. He was about to take another bite but his hand paused half way up to his mouth. 

“That might work,” he said, mostly to himself.

“I was kidding man,” Paul was looking at him the same way he did right before he did something stupid like farting into a camp fire or heading for the half pipe with a a bottle of Patron. 

“Okay not signs, for real but…I could tweet like a missing person thing,” Mike reached for his phone but Paul grabbed it and held it out of his reach. 

“She’s just a chick. Do you know how many single hot chicks there are in this city?” Growling, Mike reached for his phone but Paul just shook his head and stepped back putting himself even further away.  “Just tell me why you’re spending so much time on this one?” He knew how it sounded in his own head and he knew that at best Paul was going to laugh at him and at worst he was going to call the men in the white coats to take him away. He also knew damn well that if he tried to blow him off, Paul would only poke and prod him until Mike gave an answer. 

Of course there was the easy answer his friend would understand. 

“She’s great in the sack,” he replied and got the reaction he’d anticipated.

“Well why didn’t you just say so? Buddy, I thought you were getting soft on me. Fuuuuck, I thought you were gonna say she’s the one or some fucking thing,” Paul laughed as he handed him back his phone. “Tweet away and hey, ask if she has a friend for me okay?” Mike took his phone back and gave his friend a cheerful gee shucks shrug and grin, right up until the moment Paul was past him and could no longer see his face and then Mike allowed his face to fall. He’d been telling himself that same lie all night. The only problem was that he didn’t believe it anymore. 

___________________________________________________________________

“You did not buy those around here.” Chelsea glanced down at the black strappy high heeled Givency sandals on her feet and shook her head. “Yeah, didn’t think so. Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out of runners or cowboy boots in your entire life. Maybe flip flops, once,” her friend Mandy took the empty seat across from her at the small table in Chiasso’s. Chelsea was already sipping on her caramel macchiato and Mandy’s mocha was waiting for her. “In fact,” Mandy noted, tipping her head to one side and giving Chelsea one of those long considering looks that, had it come from a man, would normally have made her blush. As it was, Chelsea waited until Mandy’s eyes met hers’ again before she shook her head and laughed. “Well, shit, you look hot and sooo not like you. Jesus, a couple months away and you’re some big city fashionista.” 

“Am not,” Chelsea laughed and put her coffee down and sat back. This felt normal. Nothing else had since she’d gotten back, but Sunday morning coffee with her best friend did. 

“Okay, well I’ve never seen you in jeans that tight or…what do you call that? A hanky?” Chelsea looked down at the asymmetrical flowy halter top and shrugged. “I’m just teasin’ you baby girl. You look amazing but ya gotta admit, it’s not your regular boy fit jeans and dirty t-shirt.” 

“I guess I got out of the habit of slobbing around,” Chelsea admitted with a shrug, picking up her coffee and trying to hide behind the cup. 

“You mean you got away from Jim Bob and stacking horseshit and realized that you’re a girl,” Mandy snorted and Chelsea suddenly found herself unable to meet her friend’s gaze. That came a little too close to home. “Sorry, I know you hate when I call him that.” It wasn’t that but Chelsea was willing to let her friend believe it was, for now. Unlike most girls she found it hard to confide in her friends about Jimmy. At first they’d all thought her relationship with the tall, handsome cowboy was very exciting but as time wore on and her friends moved from one boy to the next, they’d begun to warn her about his controlling ways. She’d never seen him that way. Last night she’d sat up for a long time mulling things over that she’d never allowed herself to even think about. “I notice you’re not wearing a ring,” her friend added more gently. Chelsea flexed her left hand, looked down at her empty finger and then put her hand back in her lap. 

“I know he wanted to…I mean, I’m pretty sure he planned to ask me but…,” she looked up and across the table at her friend and shrugged. “I guess I just need a little time to adjust to being back home.” It was the second time she’d said that, but this time it was as if she was trying to convince herself. 

“Well if he lets you wander around in the city looking like that he’ll have a hard time keeping you to himself, that’s for sure,” Mandy grinned at her, trying to buoy her spirits. Chelsea smiled but that leaden weight in her stomach only got heavier. 

“So, what have you been up to?” 

This was why she’d come out, to hear someone else talk, to hear about someone else’s life and to try and fill her head with thoughts other than the ones that were going around and around in her head like a carousel that never stopped and wouldn’t let her off. She picked at the cinnamon bun in front of her and listened while her friend explained about how she was getting ready for the biggest event in Calgary’s calendar year, the Stampede. She was just one of the girls that wore the shiny shirts and matching chaps and rode around the ring with a flag but it was a big deal. There’d been a time not so long ago that she herself would have been excited to be involved in something as simple as that and she smiled and nodded and asked the appropriate questions in the appropriate places but only part of her brain was paying attention. 

The other part was thinking about the way Jimmy had looked in the rear view mirror of her dad’s old mustang. Had he looked angry? Disappointed? Upset? She wondered what he’d do when she got back. Would he want to talk? Would he try and get her alone again or would he continue to avoid her and if he did, would she care?

“Hey, do you know Mike Green?” Chelsea blinked and then narrowed her eyes at Mandy as her friend stared down at her iPhone. 

“Who?” she asked, wondering if she’d missed part of her friend’s story, if this Mike person was some cowboy coming to town or someone Mandy had met U of C. 

“You know, the hockey player,” Mandy prompted, staring across the table at her as if she should know. Chelsea shrugged. The Flames were big, of course, and her father had taken her to a few games but she’d never showed much interest. She liked horses, not hockey. 

“Did he get traded or something?” she asked, trying her best to be sociable and to stop Mandy from asking about Jimmy again. 

“Nooo,” Mandy wrinkled her nose and looked at her as if she were considering something and then decided against it. “He doesn’t play for the Flames. I was just going to ask if you met him when you were in DC with your dad but why would you have,” she laughed and then stowed her phone away. “Must have been some other red head,” she added with a dismissive sigh. “Another coffee?” 

___________________________________________________________________

Mike stretched out on the table and stared up at the ceiling. He’d lost count of how many MRI’s he’d had since he’d started playing hockey. In the last year alone he’d probably had ten. His knee was a mess, he didn’t need a picture to know that, but the surgeon that had been recommended to the team apparently did.

“Try not to move,” the disembodied voice suggested and Mike yawned in reply. He knew the drill and chances were he’d probably have a nap while they did this. He shut his eyes and allowed his heart beat to slow. All he wanted to know was if he was going to have to go under the knife or if he was just going to have to deal with rehab for the entire summer. Ovie had invited him to spend some of their time off in Moscow and Nicky had invited him to Sweden. He wanted to do both trips but if he was going to get serious about his training over the summer, chances were he’d end up doing neither. The farthest he’d probably get would probably be a barbeque and beer boys’ weekend in Wawota with Brooksy. 

He thought about calling Brooks later, when he got back home, and asking him his opinion on finding the red headed vixen who kept invading his thoughts. The first thing Brooks would do was give him shit for letting her leave the club without at the very least getting her digits, he knew that. The big forward would sigh and shake his head and say something like ‘Greener, you have no game’. Thinking about it made Mike smile. 

Brooks definitely had a way with the ladies. Even when they were attached, even if they had their guy in the room with them Mike had seen Brooks work his magic and take a chick right from under the nose of her boyfriend. The man was smooth. There was no doubt about that. Mike wasn’t. The most he could hope for was that some girl would feel sorry for him, buy the whole Eeyore act and take pity on him long enough for him to use his minor skills to get into their pants. Kind of like he had with CeeCee. 

The name still didn’t seem right. Even as he rolled it over in his mouth Mike somehow knew that it couldn’t be her name. It had to be some kind of pet name. Not one he’d ever use for her, he thought with a smile. He’d call her sexy bitch or hot stuff, not CeeCee. 

“Ummm Mr. Green, if we can just get you to relax?” Mike cursed under his breath as he opened his eyes and stared down his body at the tent his dick was making of his sweat pants. 

“Sorry,” he called and shut his eyes again and thought about wing sauce on Boudreau’s cheek, the Speedos Ovie wore when they went swimming at a hotel pool, the way that Brooksy would pick up the bone from a t-bone steak and gnaw at it right in the middle of a restaurant and eventually the thoughts of his red headed vixen were shuffled to the back of his mind. 

________________________________________________________________________

As she turned up the drive she could see Popcorn saddled and tied up outside the barn as if she were waiting for her. The mare’s ears pricked up as the Mustang pulled up outside the house and as Chelsea stepped out of the car she was met with a whinny of greeting. Guilt churned in her stomach. She’d been back two days and hadn’t taken her out. This was probably Jimmy’s not so subtle way of reminding her of her obligations and responsibilities. 

Glancing towards the lower paddock she could see him in the middle of the ring holding one end of a training harness, giving a lesson. He looked up towards her and reached up to touch the brim of his hat. So it had definitely been his idea.

“Let me just change into my boots,” she whispered, pressing her lips to the middle of the blaze on the mare’s forehead, and her jeans, she thought as she mounted the stairs. Her boots were sitting near the door on some newspaper, cleaned. Chelsea made a face. “Okay, I get it,” she cursed under her breath and dropped into one of the kitchen chairs to pull off her sandals. She was still silently cursing him and thinking up colourful things to call him when he pulled open the screen door. She stared at his dusty boots, the pale, faded denim jeans with one knee blown out and finally up to the sweat soaked white wife beater that tugged across his chest, reminding her that there was lean solid muscles beneath. 

“If you wait a few minutes I’ll come with you,” he offered. Chelsea made a face and went back to pulling on her boots. 

“I think I’d rather be on my own,” she mumbled. She expected him to insist but only a long drawn out silence surrounded her, shortly followed by the slamming of the screen door. Chelsea winced. She really didn’t want to hurt him but it seemed as if she couldn’t help doing it. 

Stomping out of the door she walked down to the barn and started to untie the mare who flicked her tail and shook her head with impatience.  Chelsea stroked her neck and then slid the reins over her head and put her foot in the stirrup and swung her leg over. ‘Should definitely have changed my jeans’ she winced as the slim fitting denim dug in as her legs settled around the mare’s girth. 

“Go easy on me girl,” she whispered, laying another pat on Popcorn’s neck as she turned her towards the upper pastures. She was sure she could feel Jimmy’s eyes on her back, but didn’t turn to look. She needed some space. She needed some air. The warm wind lifted her hair but it lifted the light flowing fabric of her top too. Chelsea went to tug it down when she felt the mare shy. “Hey girl I said take it easy, we’re not galloping today,” she mumbled as she tried to tug in the loose, uneven edges of her top into her jeans with one hand while holding the reins with another. Popcorn shook her head and stamped. “Hooo baby, just give me a minute,” Chelsea tried to sound soothing and not impatient as she turned to try and tuck in the back of her shirt. That’s when the horse reared and she saw the snake. 

‘Stupid horse’, Chelsea thought as she tried to hold on with her knees as she felt the reins slip from her fingers, ‘it’s only a bullsnake’. Popcorn reared again and bellowed and Chelsea felt herself slipping. She grabbed for the mare’s mane and missed and the next thing she knew her feet were in the air and she was sliding backwards towards the ground. 

____________________________________________________________________

Mike had six messages by the time he got out of the MRI. Three of them were from Paul asking sarcastically if he’d had any luck with his lost sex kitten ad on twitter. He thought about taking a picture of himself flipping the bird and texting it back but then decided that would require too much effort. 

Actually he was feeling pretty stupid about his twitter post now. If she was out there, reading it, she was probably laughing at him. He knew damn well that whenever he worked up the courage to check it all of the guys from his team and no doubt a bunch of guys from other teams would no doubt be giving him a hard time about it. He’d probably still be hearing about it by the time training camp rolled around. 

One of the other messages was from his agent. That one he should probably return he thought as he strode through the patient waiting area, though he was reluctant to. After the season he’d had, he knew the chances of his being moved were probably high. That didn’t mean he wanted to go, though there had been some days through that losing streak that he would have had a different attitude towards being traded. Still, he liked most of the guys and when they were winning they were good to be around and even Boudreau wasn’t the worst coach he’d ever had. 

He had just hit the speed dial button for his agent and was putting the phone to his ear when he saw the blood red orange colour of her hair. He stopped in his tracks, slowly lowered the phone and hit the end button. 

‘Couldn’t be’ he thought as he backed up a few steps until he could see her profile. He knew those lips. He could already taste them. Her eyes were downcast so that her long eyelashes fell on the soft rounds of her cheeks, cheeks that had a sprinkling of light freckles on them. ‘No fucking way’, he thought as his feet carried him forward, towards her as if she was the light at the end of a tunnel and he had no choice but to follow the light. 

“You’re hurt,” he said as he loomed above her. She was holding her arm between her elbow and her wrist. There were clean trails that tears had made through the dust on her face but she was stubbornly refusing to cry now. 

“I’m fine. It’s a sprain. He’s just being cautious,” she replied with a quick and, Mike thought, angry glance in the direction of that praying mantis in his stupid straw cowboy hat. The guy was a cartoon. 

“Here, let me see,” Mike took the empty seat next to her and reached for her arm. She stared down at his hand like it might sprout tentacles or something but when he slid his hand gingerly beneath where hers’ was, she let go. ‘Shit’ he cursed under his breath as he nearly jumped out of the chair and let go of her arm all at the same time. It was only his years of refusing to let it show when he was hurt that kept him glued where he was with her arm cradled gently in his hand. His heart began to hammer in his chest the moment he touched her and he could already feel the sweat breaking out across his forehead. “You scraped it pretty good,” he noted, gently rotating her arm while watching her facial expression out of the corner of his eye. She didn’t wince. That was a good sign. “Banged it pretty hard too,” he added as he carefully bent her hand down and then up again, still watching her full, sensuous mouth for signs of pain. She clenched her teeth when he pressed her hand in but that was all. She was probably right about the sprain. Still, he felt carefully along her wrist, probably pressing a little harder than he had to but he only knew about broken bones from having his own, from the way they crunched when you pushed on them and the way doing that made you feel like you were going to puke and pass out all at the same time. 

She did neither. In fact, as he looked up at her, those amazingly leaf green eyes stared into his filled with confusion and…god please let him be right, something deeper, something that looked almost like the longing he felt in his heart. 

“I told you I’m fine. He’s just being overprotective,” she snapped all of a sudden, pulling her arm back and cradling it in her other arm. She shot a look towards where her cowboy boyfriend was still filling out forms on her behalf. The way the nurses were looking at him it was obvious they thought that he was the epitome of white knight chivalry. Mike didn’t see it quite that way.

“Is he always an overbearing ape?” he asked and watched as the corner of her mouth twitched, like maybe she wanted to smile but got it under control, just in time.

“It’s kind of part of his job to look after me,” she muttered, those pretty jewel like eyes downcast. What was that cheesy fucking line from that stupid dancing movie, Mike thought as he watched her shoulders hunch and her body roll in on its’ self. ‘Nobody puts baby in a corner’. Yeah that was how he felt as he fought the urge to reach for her, to grab her chin in his big meat claw and make her look at him. 

“Kind of like being kind of engaged?” he asked, doing his best to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. Surly Mike didn’t work well with women. He’d been told that before. He was doing his best to be the good Mike now, the concerned friend sort of Mike. She glanced up at him and then back down at her arm. He wanted to ask if that Stetson wearing giant had done this to her but swallowed the question. It was a question that ornery Mike would ask. 

“We have a…I guess you’d call it an understanding,” she replied quietly. Mike felt his entire face screw up into a frown. 

“What? You mean like an arranged marriage?” She didn’t answer, just kept staring down at her arm. He knew he should leave it, let it go, but he couldn’t. “What time machine did he step out of?” he asked, glancing over at Mr. tall and tanned who was still doing his golly gee shucks routine with the nurses who were eating it up like chocolate pudding. Mike felt the same way watching him as he did watching Crosby do an interview. He wanted to punch something or in this case someone.

“What’s it got to do with you anyway?” she asked and Mike was willing to bet that she had tried to sound angry but it didn’t come off that way. She just sounded tired. Tired of their little arrangement? Mike took a deep breath and jumped in with both feet.

“I bet he doesn’t know about us.” She got very still and then she turned those green eyes on him and he thought that the look she gave him was the same one a jaguar gave its prey right before it pounced. 

“What us?” He heard the threat and chose to ignore it. The same way that sometimes he knew he was gonna get hit and maybe take a beating for doing something out on the ice but he did it anyway.

“Normally I’d be the first one to say let sleeping dogs lie but in this case I’m willing to give them a little kick. He’s a prick and you don’t look happy…”

“You don’t know anything about him,” she snapped back defensively but Mike got the feeling that she was defending herself the same way an injured cat will hiss and bite when it’s hurt. All he had to do was be a little gentle and move with caution.

“I’m a guy and I know guys like him and I’m telling he’s an a-one prick that can’t wait for you to be barefoot and pregnant and I know you’re gonna say I don’t know you but…I don’t think that’s what you want.” He saw her get still again, watched her watch her boyfriend from beneath her lashes and then hang her head. 

“You were supposed to stay in D.C.,” she whispered. 

“Yeah, well, so were you, but I’m not a big believer in coincidences. I think things happen for a reason and if we’re gonna keep runnin’ into each other like this I think someone’s trying to tell us something, don’t you?” His heart stopped beating and he held his breath while he waited for her to answer. She kept watching Cowboy Bob for a long time and then her lips parted. 

“So what’s your plan, Mike?” she asked without so much as glancing in his direction. 

“I say we blow this popsicle stand, right now, you and me.”