11. The Stairwell Re

CHAPTER 11

THE STAIRWELL REUNION

BIG D

How can this beauty be so blind? What the hell is Kallie doing with Whittaker? He doesn't deserve her.

I feel duped by her, thinking about Montana. She said she was getting over her ex. Her ex is that guy and now they're engaged? What are the odds?

If this is a game they're playing, it isn't my thing.

With an eagle eye, I keep watch for her, trying to calm my frustration. I finally spot her as she steps into the lobby bar of the hotel. She approaches me where I'm seated in a corner.

Damn. All this time I've remembered her as that cowgirl I met. But not a trace of the country girl I connected with in Montana is left, replaced by a womanly figure, stunning in a black gown, spike heels, hair in a tight knot, diamonds at her throat. She looks like a very fuckable million bucks.

I like that about her, the duality, but my head would never be able to shake the memory of my rodeo queen, as if that's the real Kallie she shared with me. Not this dressed-up version.

"Hi, Cody, " she says, forming her sexy red painted lips around my name. I can't stand to be this close to her and not take her over my shoulder and carry her away from all of this pretentiousness like a possessive, selfish bastard.

Before she can sit down, I rise and guide her gently by the elbow.

"Come with me," I say, and she doesn't argue. The sparks fly from this one touch, but I ignore them. We don't say a word until we're in the stairwell. It's as closed off, hidden, and as far away as we can be under the circumstances.

"What the fuck are you doing with Whittaker?" I raise my voice as soon as the door closes, not intending to scare her, but out of frustration.

She cowers a little against the wall, a strand of auburn hair falling across her eyes, and I immediately regret my tone.

"I'm not with him," she retorts, taking a swipe at the lock of hair.

"But Mr. Campbell said?—"

"My dad's a misogynistic asshole who thinks he can force me into staying with Jeremy. You're a hockey player?"

I ignore the look on her face because I can't interpret if she thinks that's a good thing or not. "You can't be with him, Kallie. I know him. That guy isn't right in the head." I point fingers at my own brain to emphasize.

She blinks several times. "How do you know him?"

There's so much I want to talk with her about. I dreamed of this moment when we'd finally be face to face someday and everything we'd say to each other. Never thinking I'd need to reveal this part of my past so soon. I must warn her about him.

I breathe in deep and scrub my mouth and chin stubble. "When I made it to my first team in Minnesota as a rookie out of college, the coach assigned Whittaker to mentor me. They always pair rookies and experienced guys together to help along with their development being new to the national league."

"You two were teammates," she groans.

"Not for long. I realized right away what a prick he was. I hated him. But mostly, I hated the way he treated his girlfriend at the time, Zoe. I saw him cheat on her on more than one occasion at after-game parties. She was a sweet chick, and I got to know her a little, just as friends, until one night I spotted fresh bruises on her arms when she mindlessly pushed her sleeves to her elbows. She confided in me he'd gotten too rough with her in an argument, and often did. Scared her, but she loved him and would not leave him, no matter how much I tried to convince her."

Kallie gasps, her hand flying to her chest. And that's how I know. He's a repeat offender. My fists ball up. A man who chooses to rule over a woman weaker and smaller than him is no man at all. I'd love to show him the way we cowboys deal with men who don't respect the female gender.

"So I'd had enough, and told the coach about him. But Jeremy retaliated and told the coach I was taking drugs. Claimed he had proof. Only it backfired on him. We both ended up traded."

She slowly nods. "Must have been a PR threat for Minnesota. Teams hate when their players embarrass them with anything less than a squeaky clean image."

"He got the better end of it though since he landed in Austin, still playing professionally, while I got sent down to the semi-pros. I've had to fight every fucking day of my hockey career to work hard and prove myself against the nasty lies he's spread about me over the years to anyone he can in the league. The guy set me up with a reputation I didn't deserve. I never did drugs, not once."

She holds her sides, nostrils flaring, jaw locked, looking about to cry. Or pissed, probably both. I want to reach for her and — Wait.

She knows I live in L.A., yet she shows up here and doesn't tell me she's in town? Talk about a stab to the heart. Now I'm the one who is pissed. My lungs deflate like she knocks the wind out of me. Here I've been fooling myself into thinking we could be more than friends someday.

But dammit, my brain is all befuddled because she looks too good. Better and even more beautiful than I remember, although I've had no trouble picturing her ass in tight jeans riding in a saddle every night in bed with my hand stroking my rod.

Her lips red and full, pouting, do every single fucking thing for my cock. Mm-hmm. He suddenly stands stiff at attention in a second flat. He'd win if this were a rodeo competition.

Will I win the girl again at the end of the night like I did last time I saw her in Montana?

But she didn't bother telling me she'd be in the city tonight, and that fucking hurts.

I turn in the stairwell away from her, pointing my big D in the other direction, hands on hips, trying to breathe and get a grip on the situation. But I need to know the facts.

I swallow hard, steeling myself for the answer to my next question. "Tell me right now. Did that mother fucker ever hurt you?"

She remains quiet behind me. Likely too scared to admit the truth.

"If he dares ever hurt you again, he'll have me to deal with. I swear it, Kallie," I vow through clenched teeth, focused on the wall of stairs ahead of me so I don't find that fucker and ram my fist down his throat. I've grown considerably bigger than him, and given the injuries he's sustained that ended his hockey career, he'd be at a complete disadvantage.

Suddenly, her arms wrap around me from behind. Her shoulders shake against my back, leaning on me to support her weight.

Fuck me royally. Is Jeremy's shit all these "complications" that she told me she's been dealing with?

"He works for your dad, right?"

"And I work for him," she cries. I think I got the full picture now, enough clues to know this is indeed one fucked up mess.

I soften, turn, and lift her in one swift move. Her dress shifts up, arms hugging my neck. I sit down on a step and hold her tight as she straddles me. Rocking her back and forth, I assure her with soft whispers.

"I got you, cowgirl. I'm here for you." Hot tears fall from her eyes, and wet my hair, until finally, her cries subside into sobs. But I have to know. "Why didn't you tell me you'd be in L.A. tonight?"

"I'm not alone. Jeremy and Dad scrutinize my every move. I didn't want to risk involving you anymore than necessary. It's my mess to figure out." She sniffles.

"Dammit, girl, I'm so fucking involved now. It isn't even funny. So do me a favor and don't shut me out."

"I've been trying to deal with this on my own?—"

"You don't need to be so brave anymore, darlin'. I'll make sure you're okay. Let me in. I could take such good care of you."

"What if he finds out about you and hurts you?"

I snort. "I'd like him to try, just so I can put him in his place."

The beauty in my arms tightens her hold on me, burying her face into my neck. "That's asking you to be so much more than just friends."

Then her lips brush my ear lobe. Joined soon by her tongue and kisses and sucks and nibbles on my neck. Her tiny moans into my ear threaten my last hold on sanity.

My cock, like a steel rod, hasn't deflated yet. He unabashedly jerks between us, trying to snake his way into her body if he could, no matter how much I try to control the situation in my pants.

"You keep kissing me like that, darlin', and we'll leave the friend zone far behind," I warn.

"Cody." I growl at my name on her lips. "Fuck, Cody, I need you." Her plea feathers into my ear.

I bring my hands up and cup her cheeks, forcing her gaze right into my eyes. "You have me, girl. I can hardly believe it myself, but you do. Don't you know? From the first kiss, you've completely owned me."

"I have?"

"I don't know how it happened, but you've branded me. Ask my teammates. I've been a mess since Montana. I'm one hundred percent Kallie-fied and owned by you."

"Kallie-fied. I like that." A glimmer enters her half-lidded eyes, one corner of her lips turns up in a soft curve.

Our eyes don't shift, but her ass does, as she squirms against my groin, adjusting along my cock. Her clit must have found satisfaction at just the right spot, given how she whimpers and repeats the move, grinding harder and harder on me.

"Fuck yeah, cowgirl, get yourself off on my cock. You own that, too. One hundred percent all beef, thick and juicy, all yours." I lean back, not caring how the stairs cut into my back. My hands circle her waist, and I rock my hips in time with her.

"I like the sound of that," she chuckles and bites her lips, but in the next breath holds back a moan, moving on me so fucking beautiful.

The only thing better would be her whipping out my cock and riding it, right here and now. But we're in a dang stairwell, taking so many risks as it is. I'll take them all with her, steal from the time she has to be with those other assholes as much as I can.

They don't deserve her. I need to convince her to leave them. Why does she even put up with them? All questions for later.

"I can't believe you're here. You're so fucking beautiful, Kallie."

"Mm. My sexy, dirty cowboy." Breathless, she leans her hands behind her on my knees, letting her head loll. The arch of her back, tilting her tits skyward, her chest heaving, is a sight for this poor cowboy's eyes.

I flip her dress up for a view of her, and there they are. A friendly little pair of lace panties. The way her pussy in the sheer black fabric dances against my groin, I'm whipped. There's no going back to just friends after this. My hands smooth up her body, skimming over her nipples, wrapping gently around her neck. I need her naked again.

"You feel this, baby? Feel my cock? That's all for you. I haven't had another woman since Montana because you've ruined me for anyone else." Ah, shit. It occurs to me that maybe she and Jeremy… Since she returned to Austin…

I paste my eyes shut, as jealousy and rage build within me. Then her hands are on my cheeks, forcing my eyes on hers, like she can read my thoughts.

"Hey, cowboy. The only dick I've had is yours. In the bathtub when I think of you fucking me so good—it's you, every single time." She reassures me, and starts to bounce on my cock like she can't hold back any longer, her arms circling my neck for balance.

"Do you touch yourself, thinking of me?" My hands on her waist urge her faster and harder, up and down. I'm so close to busting a nut in my pants.

"Yes. Yes," she moans as her legs shake.

"Are you a good girl, making yourself come thinking of me fucking you so good?"

"Every. Single. Time." Her words escape in pants.

"Because my rodeo queen deserves a nice big D to ride, doesn't she?"

"Oh God." She rocks on my lap so wildly, her hair falls down in a mass of auburn curls, flying about her shoulders like there's a breeze in the stairwell. "Yes, Cody! Yes!"

I glue my hand to her mouth, preventing further screams as her body convulses. Her beauty radiates, coming undone on top of me. Through my clothes her wetness seeps onto my pants, soaking me, but I don't care what huge spot she leaves behind. Nothing could stop this now.

No one will stop us now.

I want to hold her, as she comes down from her high, but she moves quickly between my legs, gasping for air, and reaching for my zipper.

With every ounce of willpower I have, I stop her progress and grab her wrists, bringing us both back to standing. I'll pay for it with the bluest balls ever tonight.

"Not here, baby. Ditch the ex before he hurts you. Text them you have a headache and leave with me now. Come home with me tonight."

"My hotel room is closer. We can talk and…" Her eyes fall to the bulge in my pants. She makes a seriously valid point, and I'm too wound up to argue the pros and cons of staying in this hotel.

A minute later, we both run up several flights of stairs to her floor. Breathlessly, we dash down the hall to her room. The pull and promise of her pussy is too strong, even though I know I should get her as far away from Whittaker as possible.