CHAPTER 1
Kane
“I really need to get going, darling,” Nalia says as she attempts to extricate herself from my arms.
While my body doesn’t have anything left to give her physically because we haven’t left my bed nearly all weekend, I still pull her back in close. Nuzzling her neck, I mutter, “Call in sick. Stay another day.”
Her laugh is husky, but her demeanor is efficient, a product of her British upbringing, as she pats me on the cheek. “I can’t just call in sick, Kane. It doesn’t work that way. Besides, this is the last hop I can get to Raleigh today.”
I loosen my hold, not having intended for her to stay. It’s just the nice thing to do when someone I care about—and I do care about Nalia—is leaving soon. No telling when we’ll see each other again. It could be weeks—maybe even months—but our relationship has worked like this for the past two years.
Not that it could be called a relationship.
We’re nothing more than a periodic booty call, something that worked well when I played for the Carolina Cold Fury and lived in Raleigh. Nalia is a flight attendant. While she works on many international flights, she often has duty on the direct Raleigh to London or vice versa. She would usually stay overnight before the return leg, and she and I would… well, fuck like rabbits in the minuscule amount of time allotted.
As I said, it worked well. Nalia loves traveling, and she’s far too independent to settle down. And as for me, well… I don’t know what in the hell I want. Until I figure it out, a hot hookup and friends with benefits is perfect.
Unfortunately, Nalia and I haven’t seen each other much since I was traded to the Arizona Vengeance a few months ago. We were finally able to plan a weekend trip for her to visit, and we made up for lost time. Not sure I could even manage another hard-on right now, as we thoroughly depleted each other.
Taking the opportunity, Nalia rolls out of bed. I turn onto my side, prop my head in my hand, and unabashedly watch her. She’s a stunning woman—exotic due to her Lebanese heritage—with black hair and almond-shaped eyes, but that British accent and dry humor just amp up her attractiveness.
Naked, she’s beyond words.
I like Nalia.
Quite a lot, but not enough to make this into something more than it is. I think if I made an effort, Nalia would be on board with us discussing exclusivity, but I have to listen to my gut on these things. And every instinct I have screams that she’s not ready, I’m not ready, and our careers wouldn’t provide many opportunities to be together.
No, it’s better we just keep to our little moments together, enjoy them, and realize that’s all there will ever be.
“Want to join me in the shower?” she quips, glancing over her shoulder.
She catches me staring at her ass.
Her lips tip up, but she doesn’t admonish me. Hell, we’ve run around naked this entire weekend. She’s used to me leering.
I consider her invitation because it has merit. While I thought my dick was dead from over-usage this weekend, I bet it would work just fine with a naked, soapy Nalia in my arms.
But she’s on a tight schedule. She needs to catch her free return flight to Raleigh, and I have to head to the arena soon. We have our first team meeting at noon, which will include our team pictures, and training camp starts next week. I wanted to get a quick workout in before then.
During the off-season, I’ve been working out with some of the guys who share the second line with me, so I’m in better shape than I’ve ever been. Five days a week, I meet Jim Steele, Jett Olsson, and Bain Hillridge at the arena gym, and we put in two to three hours of hard work. We haven’t met the other defenseman on our line yet—Riggs Nadeau—as he’s coming to us from the San Diego Renegades in a late-summer move by management. I’ve heard he’s a bit prickly to work with, which kind of sucks, since Jim, Jett, Bain, and I get along well, which always translates into success on the ice.
“Shower?” Nalia says, snapping her fingers to get my attention from the doorway of the bathroom.
I blink and grin, giving my head a quick shake. “How about I make us both a quick breakfast?”
“Lovely,” she replies as she moves into the bathroom. “Make it portable for me, please. I do need to get going.”
“You got it,” I reply, nabbing a pair of sweatpants out of my dresser and slipping them on. Naked time in my condo is over for now.
In my kitchen, I grab eggs and a pack of English muffins from the fridge. A quick breakfast sandwich should meet her portability requirement, and I happen to know Nalia likes eggs. Ironically, I’d only learned that this weekend, as this has been the most time we’ve spent together in one visit. In Raleigh, our hookups were overnights. She’d have to rush to catch an early flight the next morning, often slipping out of bed while I was still asleep.