Chapter Nine

Brent

Getting out of that hotel room was essential, especially with the thought of being in the same suite while Zoey strips out of her clothes with only a bathroom door separating us.

Seeing Liam in the lobby and hearing that he took the room she booked, it took everything I had not to body-check him against the lobby wall. He deserves a good ass beating for what he did to Zoey, and I know just the guy for the job. If we were out on the ice, I'd make sure he'd remember the kind of hurt I used to put on our opponents out in the rink.

I wish she would have asked me to rough him up a little instead of making him jealous because that's what he deserves.

I drop off the cart and walk past the bar to see a small group of six or so people around a large table, all laughing and drinking with Phoebe and David.

Liam catches me looking in on the group, and our eyes lock. Non-verbal words are exchanged and now we understand each other.

He might not know the real reason for why Zoey and I are "dating," but we both know I'm about to ruin his weekend because I saw the way he looked at her in the lobby earlier. It wasn't the look of a man engaged to someone else.

It turns out it won't be too hard to make him jealous since he's already looking at me like I'm a threat.

Little does he know—I don't have a shot in hell with her.

When I get back up to the room, I busy myself for a bit, checking rankings for the team and looking over Coach Bex's email for reels he wants us all to watch over the weekend of the team we're playing next as I sit on the bed, reclined against the twenty or so throw pillows behind me.

I hear the door handle turn, and I'm unprepared for what steps out when the door opens.

Zoey's long chestnut-brown hair curled perfectly into large sweeping pillows of softness. Her eyelashes are painted dark black, and her lips a delicious apple-red gloss.

Her skin-tight, long-sleeved black dress reaches down over every perfect curve of her body and down to her delicate ankles. The plunging V-neck top stops just past her breastbone, accentuating the perfect natural shape of her breasts. My heart rate increases as I can't take my eyes off of her. Blood starts to pump hard to my cock. Her sky-high black strappy heels set off the rest, and Jesus, she's the sexiest thing I've ever seen.

Hell, if she were mine, we wouldn't be going downstairs anymore. I'd call in sick and she and I would both be naked in a matter of seconds.

But she's not mine.

And she dressed like that for someone else.

My eyes continue to detail everything about her when she walks over to her purse and rifles through it.

She pulls out a pair of diamond earrings, and I have a decent guess at who bought them for her.

I can't torture myself any longer, looking at her as she gets ready for him.

"I'm going to jump in the shower," I say, sliding off the bed quickly before my erection becomes impossible to hide. "I won't be long."

"Okay, take your time." She says, not even bothering to look over at me as she uses a mirror on the other side of the room to secure her earrings.

Trust me, taking care of this won't take long. I just have to make sure I don't let her hear me taking care of myself in the room next to her.

Letting this go isn't an option. There's no way I can go downstairs with my throbbing cock trying to push through my slacks.

I close the bathroom door behind me and lock it to ensure Zoey doesn't try to come in to retrieve something she left in here.

The last thing I need is for her to walk in while I'm jacking off to the image of her in that dress.

Walking over to the tiled shower, I reach in and start the shower. Everything is still damp from when she was in here a little while ago but the steam from the mirrors are already wiped down from her doing her makeup.

I pull my jeans down along with my boxers in one quick motion.

My cock bobs out in front of me, completely erect and demanding attention.

If it were up to me, I wouldn't be in this bathroom alone. Instead that dress would be ripped to shreds, lying in a heap on the hotel room floor, with Zoey underneath me begging me to give it to her harder—and I would.

Next, I pull off my t-shirt and head straight for the shower.

I walk under the spray as the water runs over my head and down my back. I can't stop the imagery of Zoey stepping out of the bathroom in that "fuck me" dress.

Then I imagine her dropping to her knees, her mouth opening for me as she takes my cock against her hot eager tongue.

"Fuck… Zoey," I mumble under my breath.

I see her conditioner on the shower floor. Picking it up, I pop open the lid and take a deep inhale taking in her scent.

It's the same sweet hibiscus and rosehip that she used to use in high school, but the smell has changed a little over the years.

I squeeze out some of the conditioner into my palm and wrap my hand around my shaft and begin to work myself, watching behind my eyelids as my imagination has Zoey's hand and her mouth taking care of me.

I lean my left forearm against the tiled shower. I know I don't have a long time, but with how quickly my balls tighten at the thought of fucking Zoey in that dress, and the smell of her conditioner as if she's in here with me, I know I won't last long anyway.

She shouldn't be wearing that dress for anyone but me.

I continue to work my shaft from root to tip as if Zoey could take me that deep. And then, when the thought of pulling out of her wet mouth and coming all over her breasts and the front of her dress hits me, I can't stop my climax from ripping through me.

I muffle my groans against the arm that's holding me up as hot white cum spurts from my tip and onto the shower floor.

I give myself a second for my breathing to even out and then I begin to rinse down the shower.

I know I told her I'd be quick, so I run through my routine quickly, using the hotel's shampoo and conditioner on my hair instead of the all-in-one I brought with me since it's still in my overnight bag that I left in my luggage out in the other room.

I was in too big of a hurry to conceal my interest in Zoey to bother with anything other than getting to the bathroom.

I finish washing my body and then turn off the shower water.

I towel dry quickly and then grab Zoey's Xtreme hair dryer, hoping to dry my hair quickly. Within five minutes, I open the door to the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my waist.

Of course, hotel towels are never made for guys my size, and the terry cloth barely covers, but it covers me.

I head straight for my luggage that I left towards the front of the room where we came in, close to where Zoey was finishing up with her accessories.

She is still right where I left her, and she doesn't seem any the wiser as to what happened just now in the shower.

I keep my eyes on my luggage, keeping my eyes off Zoey's backside. The last thing I need is a second erection in this tiny towel. Not that I would care if Zoey saw what she does to me. The issue is that she's the one who doesn't want anything to do with me.

The second I get to my luggage, near the mirror where Zoey is standing, I see her glance over at me.

I was trying to keep my eyes off her until I was at least in a pair of boxer briefs and slacks, but curiosity got the best of me, and I look over to find her scanning me from top to bottom.

The minute her eyes reach back up to mine and when she realizes that this is the second time that I've caught her checking me out today, she whips her eyes away and clears her throat.

A smile forms on my lips.

She's not completely immune to me, either. But I don't want to be second best, and that's what I'll always be, even if I get her to forgive me for prom and give me a real chance.

I'll always be second to Liam.

And I'd rather be alone than settled for.

I grab my suitcase and head for the bed, laying the heavy black luggage on top.

I pull out a clean pair of underwear and the slacks I packed and then head for the bathroom.

It only takes me a few minutes to get fully dressed, and then I walk out of the bathroom.

Zoey is waiting for me with a small clutch under her arm.

"You clean up nice," she says.

"Thanks," I say, and then grab my wallet and room key off the small desk in the room. "So do you."

"Is it too much?" she asks, running her hand down the side of her body, touching all the curves that I wish were mine. "Do you think Liam will like it?"

"Trust me… he'll like it," I say, and then head for the door, opening it for her and letting her walk out first.

There are a hundred other compliments I could pay her on how she looks and about how there is no one else on this planet that compares to her. But if I'm not careful during this weekend, there's a very good chance I'll end up with something that I have no business having anymore.

Hope.