33. Emma

"Still can't believe you didn't shag him," Anna says, shaking her head for the millionth time as we stroll through the gloom to The Lamb for my party. It's all she's said all fucking day while I've been trying to take on board everything Taran said about not needing to be an expert in the game. Instead, I focused on the more mundane business side, which I found a hell of a lot easier, to say the least.

Maybe I can be a success at this after all.

"Urgh! Get over it already. We didn't shag. It was perfect, and a shag would've ruined it," I snap, although I'm not annoyed, just frustrated. I want to shag him. Fuck, who wouldn't? But being responsible after a really dodgy start in that area needs to occur, and this is me being an adult.

Adulting sucks a pile.

We reach the pub, and I push open the door. The place is already buzzing. It's my party, all right. Thirty candles on the scoreboard of life, and here I am, trying not to trip over my own feet as I step into the lion's den filled with Warriors players, Fiona, my parents, and now us.

And soon to be Taran Fraser: Ice Enemy.

"Emma! Happy Birthday!" Fiona says, coming over and thrusting a wrapped present at me.

"Thanks. Oh, you didn't have to."

"Just a small housewarming gift for the new place," she says with a smile.

"Thank you. That's really sweet."

"Let's get you a drink," she says and turns to the bar where none other than Lachlan and Keir are standing, their eyes on me and my every move.

My stomach does a weird flip. Lachlan catches my eye and smiles, a smile that says he hasn't forgotten our confrontation yesterday at the rink, even though he'd really like to. Well, same. It was awful, and I hate that I put us in this position by being a drunken floozy.

"Keep your head in the game," I mutter.

Tonight, I need to stick to the plan: celebrate, don't complicate. Easy, right? Right.

Before I've even had a drink, the door swings open with a flourish, and Taran walks in, looking more than a little nervous. Heads turn, and conversations falter.

"Hey," I say, going to him and leaning in. The rest of the party seems to fade into the background.

"Hey, yourself, Red," he murmurs, and then his lips are on mine.

It's a kiss that stops everything and everyone. The noise dims, the world blurs, and it's just me and Taran and this moment. My hand finds its way to his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath his shirt as he pulls me closer. A warmth spreads through me, hotter than the after-burn of a hard-fought match.

And just for a second, I forget everything else—the team, the town, the tangled mess of my life. There's only this kiss, fierce and fiery, and the man who's making me breathless.

I break away from Taran, the kiss lingering like the last note of a favourite song. I glance around, cheeks aflame, as everyone stares at us in horror. But I shrug it off with a laugh that doesn't quite cover the thud of my racing pulse.

"Okay, then. That was a conversation stopper," I mutter to Taran,

He chuckles. "What can I say? I have that effect on people."

"No shit," I giggle and then everything returns to normal. Well, as normal as this situation could be.

Spoiler Alert: It's anything but normal.

Fiona is staring at me before she shifts her gaze to her brother, but I avoid following it. I can't. This was a bad idea. I shouldn't have invited Taran, but I wanted to spend my birthday with him. Why is that such a problem?

Oh yeah. Because of the intense rivalry that is suddenly pissing me off more than anything else.

"Fraser!" my dad booms as he comes over and slaps him on the shoulder. "Let's talk."

Frowning as Dad shoots me a smile, he leads Taran away, leaving me feeling like a spare part.

Turning when I hear someone approach, I freeze.

"Emma. Can we talk?" Keir's voice is soft.

"Sure," I murmur because what else can I say?

He guides me toward a quieter corner of the pub. His green eyes are serious, and I can tell this isn't just another ‘happy birthday' coming up. My stomach churns with nerves.

"I heard what you said to Lachlan yesterday, but I can't not say this. It's been weighing on me ever since we heard you were coming. I've wanted to say this for a very long time." He runs a hand through his blond hair, a nervous gesture that's oddly endearing. "I've had feelings for you since... well, forever. Since school."

My mouth opens, but no sound comes out.

"Oh?" I blink, sure I've misheard him.

He smiles, shy but hopeful. "Yeah, I know. I never said anything because I thought you'd never see me that way. I was a shy nerd at school, four years younger than you, and you were so popular and beautiful. I knew I didn't stand a chance. But I'm a man now, all grown up, and I can't stand here and pretend anymore. Not when you're looking at every guy around except me." His gaze drops to the floor.

"Keir, I had no idea," I murmur, touched and thrown off balance all at once. He's been carrying this torch while I've been oblivious, skating circles in my own little world.

"I know. But now you do. I know you want to keep things professional at the Warriors, but I had to tell you how I feel. Here." He hands me a small box wrapped in paper that looks like a hockey rink, complete with tiny players. I peel it open, and inside is a charm bracelet—each tiny silver figure is a player in motion, a puck, even a goalie's mask.

"Each one represents a member of the team," he explains, his voice barely above a whisper. "And there's an extra space there—for whatever charm symbolises you finding your place among us, leading us."

"Wow. Keir, this is... I don't know what to say." My voice cracks a little. It's thoughtful, unexpected, and it's thrown me. I feel like I'm on the Big One at Blackpool Pleasure Beach, reaching the sky and then plummeting down to the ground before zooming back up to loop the loop. It's a gift that shows he sees me—not just as a woman, but as the leader I'm trying to be.

"Say you'll think about it?" he asks, his eyes searching mine for a reaction.

"Keir," I murmur, my heart squeezing with affection and confusion. I let him fasten the bracelet around my wrist, the charms cool and heavy against my skin—a reminder of the weight of my choices, both on the ice and off. "What I said to Lachlan still applies… we can't…"

"Just think about it," he says and stalks off before I can say anything else.

I turn back to the party, my mind a whirlwind of emotions, each as tangled as the ivy growing up the side of the cottage.

Feeling overwhelmed, I head for the loos, crashing through the door and hastily running down the corridor.

"Emma," Lachlan calls out before I can push the door to the ladies open. "Fancy meeting you here." He snickers, and it immediately puts me at ease. He has a way that does that.

"Imagine that," I murmur.

"You and Fraser…" he starts.

I put my hand up. "Don't. It's not your business."

"Do you know what you're getting into?" he asks seriously. "With the team?"

"I do. I know it won't be easy. Clearly, tonight has proven that."

"This is nothing. The fans will go rabid."

"And you don't think they will if I show up on your arm, or Keir's?" I spit out, really getting pissed off with this. I should be able to date who the fuck I want when I want.

"I mean, sure. It won't be easy, but what you're getting into is messy, at best."

"If you're trying to put me off your rival, don't bother," I say bitterly.

"You can't blame a guy for being a bit concerned when the woman he's interested in starts sucking face with the enemy in front of him."

"And here was me thinking you'd be happy to be off the hook."

"Emma. I don't want to be ‘off the hook'. That night wasn't just a one-off for me."

"You don't even know me."

"I know that you brighten up my day when I see you. I know that we have a chemistry that is off the charts hot. I know that when I sank my cock inside you, I felt like a fucking god. You are a powerfully addictive woman, Emma, and I want you. I want to see where this could go between us."

Practically panting at his words, I shake my head slightly to re-focus. "And what about your mate? Did you know he is in love with me?"

"Yeah, I do. He's got it bad for you. So what? Have us both?"

I huff out a choked laugh at his nonchalance, not sure whether to be frustrated or flattered by his idiotic remark. "You can't be serious." It's not even a question but a statement of fact.

Lachlan steps closer. His presence hits me square in the face, and my heart does a somersault despite my annoyance.

"Take your time," he says quietly. "There's no rush to figure it all out tonight, right?" He turns without waiting for me to reply and stalks off, leaving my head reeling in confusion. What is he doing to me? What are they all doing to me? I've never been in this situation before where three guys all wanted me at the same time. But why? What are their motives? It all just seems too convenient, too planned.

Sighing, I forget about the loo and push my way back into the pub where Taran is waiting for me.

"Having fun?" Taran asks, giving me that smile.

"Absolutely. It's not every day you turn... well, another year wiser. You know my dad well?"

He shrugs. "It's complicated."

"And now you need to tell me."

As he laughs and shakes his head, I catch Lachlan watching from a distance, and I can almost feel the weight of his thoughts. I take a sip of the drink Taran hands me, wishing it was strong enough to clear my head. Inside, I'm a mess of nerves.

"Let's get out of here." Taran grabs my hand, a lifeline in the sea of my own birthday bash. We weave through the crowd, dodging spilt drinks and loud laughter until we spill out onto the street.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"Your cottage."

Nodding, knowing exactly what he is inferring, I know it's time to take the plunge. Fuck timing, fuck the stares, fuck the Warriors and the Arrows. Fuck everyone. This is about me, Emma and him, Taran and nothing else.

Pushing open the door, I lead him to my bedroom and close the door, locking it.

He kisses me, and it's like I'm melting into him, my body igniting with every touch.

"God, Emma, you're incredible," he murmurs against my lips before blazing a trail down my neck, over my collarbone, lingering on the curves he seems to worship.

I gasp, my fingers tangling in his dark hair, urging him closer.

His lips claim mine again as we come together, a mess of passion and need. There's nothing gentle about it—it's raw and desperate.

He pulls my top over my head and unclips my bra, letting them both fall to the floor. He groans softly as he takes his time removing my skirt and then my knickers, leaving me naked while he takes in every inch of me with his heated gaze.

"Fuck, you need to be worshipped," he whispers.

With a nervous, throaty laugh, I tug at Taran's tee, pulling it over his head and tossing it somewhere in the direction of my discarded clothes. "And what about you, Mr. Arrows Captain? Don't think I haven't noticed that body sculpted for sin."

His hands are on me before I can blink, firm and demanding, sending jolts of electricity through my skin. Heat pools in my belly as he lifts me with an ease, and then setting me down on the bed. "I want to take my time appreciating every inch of you."

He strips off, that gorgeous cock ready and raring to go.

Joining me on the bed, he pushes my legs apart and ducks his head, flicking my clit with his tongue. I gasp, my back arching off the bed as pleasure shoots through me. "Fuck, Taran," I moan, my fingers tangling in his hair.

He chuckles against my sensitive flesh, the vibrations sending me further into ecstasy. His tongue explores every inch of me, teasing and tormenting me until I'm a writhing mess beneath him. I'm so close, on the edge of something incredible.

Just as I'm about to tip over, he pulls back, leaving me desperately seeking more. He grins at my frustrated whimper and covers my body with his. He kisses me, making me taste my own juices on his lips before he moves down to my nipples, sucking one into his mouth as his hand teases the other. I buck my hips, desperate for friction, but he holds me down, taunting me with his slow and deliberate movements.

"Patience, Emma," Taran murmurs against my skin. "I want this to last."

I whimper again, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. His lips leave a trail of fire as he kisses his way down my body again and back up as I cry out in frustration, needing his cock inside me.

He finally gives me what I want.

The first thrust is heaven. It's like each nerve ending in my body is connected directly to him. I moan shamelessly as he sets a steady rhythm, pulling me closer and closer to the edge with every thrust.

"Yes, Emma," Taran groans, his voice strained. "You feel unbelievable."

His words fan the fire inside me even more, pushing me right to the brink. It's a rollercoaster ride of sensation—hot, dizzying, and absolutely thrilling.

Every touch, every stroke is like poetry, and I can feel myself unravelling with each second.

Without warning, a blinding wave of pleasure crashes over me, and I cry out his name as I fall apart beneath him, my pussy clutching his cock possessively, never wanting to let him go.

He groans and pulls back, kneeling between my legs as he thrusts harder into me. He watches his cock as he buries it deep and withdraws, a look of unfettered lust on his face.

"Fuck, that's so hot," he pants. "Fuck, you're gorgeous, Emma. Fuck. Come for me, Red. I need to see your pussy claim me."

"Ah!" I cry out as his words send me into an upward spiral of pure ecstasy. My pussy does as he commands, claiming his cock with each clench of my orgasm. My mind is barely able to keep up with the sensations Taran is coaxing out of me. As his rhythm becomes more frantic, I lock eyes with him, feeling the heat and connection between us.

"Emma," he growls, his voice strained with effort. "I'm close."

His words send a fresh jolt of pleasure through me, as his thrusts become deeper, harder. He grunts loudly as he stiffens, shooting his load into me, and I arch my back, trying to get him even deeper as his cock jerks inside me.

"Fuck!" I gasp.

Breathing heavily, Taran collapses beside me, pulling me into his arms. My heart is racing, my body tingling in the aftermath. I close my eyes, savouring the feeling of his skin against mine.

"I wanted to hold out a bit longer," he chuckles. "But you make it impossible."

"That was perfect," I murmur with no regrets at all. It was perfect, right, and we both needed it.

"Happy birthday, Red."

Snorting, I reply, "Thanks," and snuggle further into his arms as he tightens his hold on me.