Hat Trick (D.C. Stars, #4)

by Chelsea Curto

I’m quiet; she’s loud. The life of every party and vivacious as hell with witty comebacks and a laugh that would bring any man to his knees. And if it were me down there, I’d wear a collar and crawl if she asked me to.

“She wasn’t finished speaking,” Riley says, deathly low. The look in his eye is murderous. A shiver races up my spine when he curls his fingers into a fist. My cheeks turn bright red when he stares at my boss and tilts his head to the side. “And her name is Lexi. L-e-x-i. That’s not difficult, is it? Treat her with respect and get it right, or I’m leaving.”

“Sure.” She smiles and moves to my side. “Is it okay if I touch you?” Screaming out fuck, yes, anywhere you want is probably too aggressive, so I nod.

“Relax. There you go,” she murmurs, her touch warm and soft. I bet the rest of her is warm and soft too. Her thumb presses into the muscles around my neck, and I almost whimper. “That’s so good, Riley.” Fuck me.

“That guy you were talking to downstairs was a waste of your fucking time,” he rasps. “I hate him.” Understanding dawns, and my spine straightens. I wet my lips, and his eyes follow the path of my tongue. “You were jealous,” I whisper. “Of course I was fucking jealous. He had your attention. And I’m fucking desperate for it.” “I’m not down there with him. I’m up here with you. What are you going to do about it?”

Fresh tears spring in my eyes, and I’m exhausted. So weary that more tears fall, and I try to cover my face with my hands. “Hey. Hey.” Riley sits next to me and pulls me into his lap. He strokes my back and kisses my wet cheek. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, Lexi.”

His eyes wander down my body, clearly in no hurry as he takes in my dress and the black heels I paired it with. He whimpers and brings his fist to his mouth, biting his knuckles. “Hell. You look gorgeous, Lexi.”

I wasn’t lying when I said bondage is something I’ve never tried in the bedroom but always wanted to. I can’t explain why; I’m not in the least bit submissive. If a man tried to tell me what I could and couldn’t do, I’d probably punch him in the face.

There’s something about knowing I can’t escape, knowing I can’t get away and I’m just a vessel of pleasure for someone else that’s hot as hell.

Riley’s gaze meets mine, eyes bloodshot and misty behind his glasses. A tear tracks down his cheek and catches in the hollow his throat. His lips part and the silent thank you he mouths makes me light up. I give him a thumbs-up in return, feeling like I just won the damn lottery.

“I can⁠—” “Do it yourself? I know you can. But here’s the thing, Lexi. I’m not going to be able to sleep. I’m not going to be able to eat. I’m not going to be able to do anything except wonder if you’re okay and taken care of. Put me out of my misery and let me do it for you.”

Lexi gives me a smile, and I open up my arms. Her smile stretches to a tired grin and she pivots her body, crawling across the cushions until she settles against my chest. God. She feels so fucking right in my arms. The last piece of a puzzle and a key slotting perfectly into a lock. Fresh air on your face and coming home after a long day.

“I like when you say things like that. Men think chanting good girl over and over gets the job done, but I-I like to hear different varieties. I know I’m good. I want to know how I’m good.”

He’s making me forget my own name and only remember his.

“Seems silly now, doesn’t it? I’m not going to wear a hockey jersey again. You shouldn’t have to.” She hums and hops on the table. “Guess I’ll have to find another Stars player I like. I wonder if Grant is available.” “No fucking way,” I say, putting my hands on either side of her hips. “It’s my jersey or no jersey, Lexi.”

“This month’s book sucked,” Grant groans. “A third act breakup? Miscommunication? Read the fucking room, bro. No one wants to read that shit.”