Thawing Ava, page 9
He headed into the staff parking lot. His truck was already waiting in a spot near the entrance, the engine purring and Ava sipping a coffee. He opened the door and grinned. “Hey. How long have you been waiting? Why didn’t you come inside?” Brice hoped she’d seen some of his practice.
She put the car into gear and backed up. “Not long. I just wanted to relax before we had to take off again. I have a lot of information to absorb. I may have a job lined up after all this is over. I also had to make sure I knew how to get to that newspaper office. Then the school.” Ava merged into traffic without much effort.
Brice could only stare at her. “How the hell did you get all that done in four hours?” He couldn’t pass up samples or a sale when he went to any cafes, restaurants, or diners. Brice hated to admit it, but he was a just-in-case kind of person. Sometimes he needed to try a new cheese just in case he liked it, and sampling a new dish they’d made was just polite and let him see if maybe he wanted to make the meal at home.
She turned onto Main Street and hit after-lunch traffic. “I have a list. I focus on that. Besides, I already knew what I wanted to ask and find out. I did get you some blueberry corn muffins.”
He shook his head. “You have to enjoy going out. Otherwise why do it? We should go out for dinner after the game. Win or lose. What do you say?”
“I’d like that.” She turned into the newspaper’s parking lot and found a spot in the visitor’s area. “Do you want me to come up or man the getaway driver role?”
He couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Nah, you can come up. Much warmer anyway. Thanks.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. Brice wanted to inhale her scent, reabsorb being around her. He realized he’d missed her at practice. At least she’ll be there tomorrow, he thought to himself.
They got out of the car and headed for the Witch Fields Sentinel. He couldn’t resist grabbing her hand as they went into the building and didn’t let go when they stepped into the elevator. Brice needed that contact with her again. She was his woman; she just hadn’t agreed to date him yet.
“Are we still…?” Her voice trailed off, and uncertainty edged her tone.
The question came out of nowhere. “Say it, honey.” He needed to hear what she was thinking out loud.
She licked her lips and looked around before she responded to him. “Are we still on for tonight?”
“In a way. Don’t worry about it. I have to watch a few games first before we do anything.”
She shifted at his side; her arm brushed against his. He gave her hand a squeeze, hoping that would calm her down some. Brice couldn’t resist leaning over and whispering in her ear, “Just think, as soon as we’re done, I could have you tied to the bed, leg spread wide while I’m eating your sweet pussy until you come on my face and then I’d give you a rest and start it all over again.” He inhaled the sweet, citrusy-vanilla scent of her and pressed a kiss to the hollow just below her ear. “I’m so hard right now I could fuck you here and not care.”
“Brice,” she hissed.
He gave her another kiss, this time on her cheek, just as the doors slid open. “We’ll finish this later.” Brice pulled on her hand and led her out to the sports reporter’s desk.
The interview wasn’t torture; sitting beside her with a raging hard-on was. He regretted not wearing any underwear. The damn metal of his zipper brushed against his throbbing cock with every movement. It didn’t help that he could smell her perfume over the stale coffee, ink, and paper scents that permeated the office. Even among the ringing phones, printers, and copiers going off every few minutes, and loud talking, clacking of keyboards, and the ringtones, he could sense every inhale and shift in her chair. He hadn’t let go of her hand, and she, thankfully, hadn’t yanked it back. Brice brushed his thumb over her pulse point as he answered questions about his game as of late and if there would be any possible improvement. Missy Grant-Smythe was an excellent sports reporter, always professional, and it helped she came from a hockey dynasty family as her father and brother had been a part of championship teams. She didn’t just cover hockey, but it was her main focus.
“Ms. Jackson, are you enjoying being back in the same city as your father?” Missy asked.
Ava blinked, and a red flush stained her cheeks. She licked her lips, drawing attention to her fuller bottom lip. “Um, yeah, it’s great.” Her voice had gone up a few octaves, which pulled a chuckle out of him. Her palms were damp, and her eyes were wide.
He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. “She doesn’t know that her father brags on her all the time,” he explained.
“Oh, he does?” Ava turned to look at him. Some of the fear had faded, and curiosity filled her features.
Missy nodded. “Yup. He’s very proud of both of his children. Where’s Davis? I haven’t seen him lately.”
“He’s busy with a few other projects. He’ll be at this Saturday’s game, or so he told me. Thanks, Missy. Excellent interview as always. See you Saturday.” He stood up and drew Ava with him.
“Crap,” Ava muttered.
Brice didn’t say anything to her until they were back on the elevator. He drew her to him, released her hand, and slid his arm around her waist, placing his hands on her hips, stroking the full curves through the denim. “Call him while I deal with the munchkins.”
“Thanks, I just… Ugh, I don’t know what to tell Davis. We had a fight about Perry before I found out about the cheating. Davis and I haven’t spoken since, and I feel bad. I didn’t tell him I was coming up here. I’ve been avoiding him when since I arrived. ” She exhaled and ran a hand over her face.
Brice bent down and pressed a kiss on her temple. He gave her hips a squeeze before sliding his hand back to caress her ass. He gave the cheek a smack before going back to running his hand over the full mound, hating that they were in public and she was clothed.
“Brice,” she warned.
“Don’t care. Like I said before, I would.” Brice led her out of the building and back to the car. She got behind the wheel, and he slid his hand onto her thigh. “I want to unbutton your fly and slip my hand into your jeans to see if you’re wet for me. I bet your panties are soaked. I can’t wait to finger fuck you, feel your pussy clench and flutter around me as you come. I want your cries and your moans. I want you naked and writhing on my bed, tied down and begging me to fuck you.” Brice couldn’t stop his mouth. Being away from her had been difficult. Having her try to put up walls and warn him off just encouraged him to push.
She sucked in some air and shuddered. He moved his hand toward her crotch and felt the heat even through the denim. Ava grabbed his wrist. “Not now.”
“So you promise I get a taste tonight when I get home? I’ll be back in time for dinner, but I have to go to the arena to watch old game footage and analyze my awesomeness.” He cupped her thigh and gave it a press before shaking his arm out of her hold.
“What do you want for dinner?” She turned onto Elementary Street and drove into the middle school parking lot and found a spot closer to the exit than the building. He wouldn’t let her change the subject.
“Not going to let go of this.” He glanced around.
Few cars were in the lot; some teachers and the after-school bus were the only vehicles in sight. He leaned over and took hold of her chin and turned her head toward him. Brice pressed his lips to hers and pried open her mouth with his tongue and sank it in to tease hers into a bit of play. She tasted of chocolate and vanilla with a hint of coffee. Her perfume floated around him. The heat in the small cabin spiked. With his free hand, he unzipped his parka to let some semblance of cooler air lower his temperature. It didn’t work. His shirt and undershirt scratched at his skin; his erection pressed against his fly. Pressure built inside him until he thought he would lose complete control. He pulled back, reminding himself that this wasn’t the time or the place, but damn, he was proud.
Brice took in her bruised red lips, all gloss smudged away to a matte finish. She panted, her pupils were wide, and her hand shook as she lifted it to press her fingers to her lips.
“More where that came from later. Let’s get out of here before I do something that will get us sent to the principal’s office and arrested.” He gave her another kiss and got out of the car. The cold air was a blessed relief to his overheated body. His shirt stuck to his damp back, and beads of sweat slipped from his brow. He made a mental note to take his car to Drake’s to check on the heating and AC system. Either something was wrong with it, or she made him that hot. Brice grinned. It’s the latter, he thought as he adjusted his throbbing erection. I’ll take a cold shower when I get back to the arena.
He grabbed her hand and led her into the school. It was automatic to reach out to her, make that contact. The fact that she hadn’t protested or tried to get him to let go was a plus that buoyed his spirits and gave him hope. “Thanks, honey.”
She looked at him, forehead scrunched in confusion. “Why?”
Much to his disappointment she had put herself back together, her mouth the only evidence of her disorientation from earlier.
“For not fighting me on the affection. For allowing me to be able to kiss you and hold your hand in public. Just wish we could do other things in public.” He punctuated that statement with a waggle of his eyebrows.
“Take a cold shower or jump in a pile of snow,” she grumbled. “Or maybe take a long walk off a short pier into a frozen lake. Probably make your brain cells work faster.”
“No snow, only dirty slush piles, and I have no desire to get pneumonia. Although if I get sick, will you play nurse, maybe dress up for me in one of those outfits they show online?” He pushed into the building and headed straight for the gymnasium.
She didn’t respond. Her plump lips were pressed together in a thin line with a hard look on her face. He didn’t egg her on. Instead he refocused on the last task of the day. He’d given talks to this school before, so he knew the way. When he wasn’t playing or practicing and he had time, he took in a game. He also donated money to keep the arts and after-school programs going. Brice valued art and education as much as he did sports. “I might teach here once this hockey thing is over,” he confessed.
“What would you teach?”
He was thankful she didn’t just assume physical education. “English but I’d also coach the hockey team or be an assistant coach if they let me.” Brice knew he had a lot to teach the younger generation from his experiences so far. He wanted to be open and honest with them, talk to them about what they should avoid and how much they should be open with their team. He may not get the job, but he wanted to try anyway.
“I’m sure they would. It’s a nice school from what I’ve seen. Why not high school?” she asked.
“Can’t take the teenage attitude.” He chuckled and pulled her into the gym, where they were already waiting for him. Brice settled her in the front row and then started his talk. He varied it every time so that what he said applied to how they did in their last game.
“You lost last time, and that sucks. I know ’cause I did too. But I’m proud of you guys. You didn’t pout or throw a tantrum like us adults do from time to time. You acted like true sportsmen.” Pride swelled in his chest as he looked over the smiling faces of the team before him. “Now for the bad news. Here’s where I felt you went wrong and how you can work on it. You’re almost there. I just know you can be district champs by the end of the season.” He went into his analysis of the game, highlighting the players’ accomplishments and teamwork, and singled out each individual’s ability. By the time it was over, he still had several questions to answer and parents who stood around looking at watches impatiently. Brice didn’t rush it. He answered everyone and didn’t shorten things just to accommodate the impatient parents. He was exhausted but felt good about what he’d done.
When Ava grabbed his hand and tugged him out of the school, he could only lean on her a bit. A yawn pulled at his lips, and he tried to fight it. He had several matches to watch before he could truly call it a night. “Can we do pizza tonight? No cooking for either of us. There’s a gluten-free pizzeria on Fifth and Gold that makes an awesome thin crust.” He didn’t want her to go all out for him.
“Sure, but can you stay up if you’ve had pizza?” She turned the key; the engine growled to life. She put the SUV into gear, turned her body toward his, and backed up with caution.
He glanced at her as he slumped into his seat. “Don’t worry about me, honey. I’m not gonna be the one tied to the bed.”
“Promises, promises. Maybe I don’t want to be tied now. Maybe I’ve changed my mind.”
“No use turning back now. We’re doing it. I’ll only bind your hands. We’ll start there.” He closed his eyes and smiled when she said nothing in protest.
“Don’t think you’ve won. I just don’t want you to expend energy arguing with me when you need to focus on your game,” she shot back after a few moments of silence.
“Excuses, excuses. I still won this round.” They arrived at the arena, and she hadn’t disputed him. He unbuckled his safety belt, leaned over, gave her a kiss, and scrambled out of the cab. “I’ll take a taxi to get home. No need for you to come get me when it’s supposed to snow again tonight. Don’t want you to get caught up in that. See you later, honey.”
Brice slammed the door shut before she could rebuke him. It wasn’t her he worried about. As he shuffled in through the player entrance, he came across a few other teammates who hadn’t gone home yet.
“You doing some extra studying?” Marsh asked.
Brice nodded and grabbed his notebook and a pencil from his locker.
“Good. Glad I’m not alone.”
Brice didn’t ask why he was here late. He saw Davis come out of the weight room. Davis gave him a nod but said nothing. Brice opened his mouth to call him back, but Marsh pulled his attention back to why he was here.
“Come on. Let’s go. I want to get home before it’s so bad that we can’t leave. I don’t want to get snowed in with your sorry ass.”
Brice snorted. “Yeah, well, I have a hot woman waiting for me at home, so I don’t want to get snowed in with you either.”
They headed into the film room and settled down to watch past footage. Brice felt at ease with Marsh. They may not have talked on a personal level for the past few weeks, but it was good to hang around him again, one on one. There was no personal crisis here, no sexual frustration, just two teammates who wanted to better themselves for the team.
Chapter Eight
Ava’s heart tried to tattoo itself against her rib cage as the seconds ticked by. What had happened in the elevator and in the truck hadn’t soothed her. She found her arousal had amplified and refused to cool off, not even after a lukewarm shower. So now she just paced. The pizza arrived, but she’d barely touched it. Her tummy kept flipping. Food didn’t seem like a good idea. She’d thought of going out and getting some more Christmas decorations. Her stomach growled, and the acid of hunger churned in her gut, but she couldn’t bring herself to dive into the chicken and veggie specialty pizza that Brice favored according to the pizzeria. At least he kept to the health trend. She broke off a bit of the pizza crust and popped it into her mouth. Garlic, butter, salt, pepper, and cayenne with the sweetness of the crust burst on her tongue. She picked up a slice of pizza and studied the space as she ate. His apartment was bare, no indication that a holiday was in full progress. She mentally planned out how she’d use the tinsel and the lights. The loft needed some sparkle, as did the banister and the mantel over the fireplace. Ava wouldn’t go so far as to decorate the TV or bookshelves.
As she looked around, she flashed back to their Christmastime in college. The frat house had been bare too. Since no one was going to be there, they didn’t think it would matter to decorate or not. She hadn’t done much since the stores hadn’t had a lot left over. There also had been only slim pickings in the tree department. A Charlie Brown-style plastic number whose fake pine needles kept falling onto the tabletop. Brice had been amused—thank goodness—but she wasn’t sure if he’d want a real tree, one that was put together, or something small as a reminder of their time together. As she finished off her slice, she glanced at the clock again. Maybe we need dessert. She thought of making a devil’s food peppermint ice-cream cake.
With no timeline, she knew it couldn’t set properly if he came home early. Her mother would be making white chocolate spearmint mousse pie. Lightly sweet and minty, the perfect complement to the huge turkey dinner she made every year. Sadly, last year, Ava spent Christmas with Perry and his snobbish family. She’d been miserable. This year would be different. Would Brice’s parents be in town? She hadn’t asked him his holiday plans. The Prowlers had a game the day after Christmas. She’d thought of calling Brice’s parents, but wasn’t sure that would be a good idea. She didn’t want to pry too much and pick at a wound that may not have healed.
Brice seemed to know her really well. She, on the other hand, knew nothing about him. Well, almost nothing. There were the basics. Did that really count? Do I really want to know more about him? Once this is over, will he want a true relationship with me? The Internet images of him with model-thin women came back to haunt her. Ava shook her head. No, can’t think like that. Brice said what he meant, period. If he truly wants me after this, then I’ll give it a try.
She turned on the TV and decided to watch the nightly news, hoping for a distraction. It didn’t take long for her to zone out. The usual segments; a few feel-good pieces but mostly bad news. The only time she felt even remotely happy was when they did some coverage on the upcoming hockey game. She winced when two players slammed into the wall and then began fighting. Growing up, she’d seen her fill of fights. A naughty thrill went through her as she watched. As much as she didn’t want Brice to get into a fight, it was part of the game and expected.
