Taking a hard hit to his ribs late in the third period had changed all of that. Connor remembered barely making it to the dressing room before he called out for the team doctor to check out his ribs.
Sure enough, the doctor confirmed what he already suspected. Connor had been sent home tightly coiled in tape to keep his bruised ribs in place. He hadn’t been in any shape to pleasure Gina in his bed. It was getting harder to bounce back from the minor injuries that were part of professional sports. It seemed to him that he’d spent more time popping ibuprofen and icing his body in the last few years than he had his entire hockey career.
He knew he had made a strategic mistake. It wasn’t one he planned on repeating.
Wrung out emotionally and physically, Gina wanted to do nothing more than cancel her dinner plans. But she wasn’t going to give Connor the power to dictate her actions. Been there, done that and finally threw out the ugly T-shirts to prove it.
Not deigning to reply to his arrogant ultimatum, she simply said, “Good night, Connor,” and carefully pressed the speakerphone button on her desk phone, effectively ending their conversation.
* * * * *
Hours later, stretching out in her bed, Gina’s fingers lightly skimmed over her tender breasts. The ache between her legs satisfied for now, she luxuriated in the aftermath of her climax. It had been more pleasing and satisfying than she had anticipated earlier during dinner with her date.
The beep of her cell phone brought her back to reality.
Are you home?
Before she could reply, another message popped up on her screen.
Did you let him come inside when he brought you home? Is he there with you?
Her thumbs began rapidly striking keys on her phone.
First) Yes. Second) Mind your own business!
In the midst of contemplating turning her phone off, another message was delivered.
Hmm—evasion. That answers my question. Call me ANYTIME you need me tonight. Sweet dreams, Gina.
Groaning, Gina stared at her phone. The ego of that man was staggering.
She had felt bad cutting her dinner date short, but during the pleasant meal, all she could think about was Connor and the amazing orgasm he had given her over the phone and from hundreds of miles away. It was all she could do not to rush back to her place to pull out her vibrator to help ease what was becoming a continuous ache.
It had become clear that there wasn’t even a glimmer of a spark between her and the man she was having dinner with. Returning alone to her cold apartment, she had warmed herself with her handy-dandy vibrator and thoughts of Connor.
Tangling up the sheets in a failed attempt to fall asleep, Gina lay staring blankly up at her ceiling.
Sighing at her own lack of control where that man was concerned, an hour later she dialed his number and waited for him to answer.
Two could play at this game, she thought with a smirk as she got ready to be the one to turn up the heat.
Clearing her throat, she mentally began making a list of all the ways she was going to make him burn over the phone.
“Hello?” came the feminine voice on the other end.
Gina quickly looked down at her screen. Had she called someone else by accident? No, the name Connor Waters appeared on her mobile screen. Disconnecting the call without a word, Gina looked down at her quivering hands. Her bitterness at her own naivety was a tough pill to swallow.
What had she expected? He was always with a different woman—she just happened to be the one he was pursuing earlier today.
Chapter Six
The melodic music coming from the hotel piano bar did little to sooth her tangled nerves. Staring out the window overlooking the Toronto skyline with the millions of windows twinkling with lights in the night sky, Gina waged an internal war.
Should she go? If not now, when? And wouldn’t it be better to try this in a different city, where no one knew her? But what if it was just too much and it blew up in her face? The last thing she needed was getting caught up in something that she couldn’t handle.
She ran a red-tipped fingernail along the black embossed business card sitting on the table in front of her, the edges frayed by her nervous ministrations. She had only ever read about clubs like the one discretely advertised on the card. The club didn’t even have a name, just a phone number, address and the words “Guest Pass” elegantly scrolled across it.
When Gina had asked her server where she could go for a little extra fun, the woman had paused and merely considered Gina’s question quizzically before answering.
“There’s a great trendy lounge across the street from the hotel,” the server announced slowly.
Gina had heard about the new place from many of the players. They had mentioned that they would be there after tonight’s away game and a couple of them had even invited her to come along.