A Bear Goal Read online

  To his grave and all-encompassing sadness, it seemed that the Predators weren’t looking for a fight that night, but were there to let off steam just like the Shovelers were. Like most of the recently-moved Shifter Grove team—which Heath was still a bit bitter about because Shifter Grove nightlife was quite literally nonexistent compared to anywhere, and especially when pitted against that of Chicago—Heath had been swapped from team to team during his professional career and a lot of these guys had played together at one point or another.

  Even he couldn’t deny a friendly nod to the Predators’ goalie now, who he’d been on the same team in college with, despite the fact that they’d spent a solid minute screaming at one another a few hours ago on the ice. One by one, the Predators found places at the tables of hockey players, finally leaving only the miffed-looking minx to stand at the bar, glaring daggers in every direction, but most pointedly at Heath.

  At least Caleb and Cayman aren’t here. Otherwise this could turn real ugly real fast, Heath mused with a mental shrug, weighing his odds.

  The girl had caught his eye at the game and now that she was standing here practically in front of him, it was hard to look at anyone but her. Soft, flowing auburn hair, tan skin, and plush lips hinting at a bit of a Latin heredity—which Heath loved, since a bit of that stereotypical Latina fire was exactly up his alley—and clever, dark chestnut eyes made for a pretty-as-hell face, but her body could have floored any man. Especially a shifter.

  Healthy, lush curves, thick thighs, and wide hips made not only the man but the bear stir with almost too much interest, the growl deep in his throat a clear sign that this was not just any hot chick in front of him. Heath and his bear rarely agreed on what the “right” kind of woman looked or smelled like, but Heath was willing to bet that he’d have to take one whiff of the spirited gal before him and he’d be in full understanding with his grizzly.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen. I have a fan to greet,” Heath said with a grin and a wink, followed by a row of snorting comments from his teammates as he got up and strode through the crowd of excited fans.

  He made his way to the pissed-off beauty with moderate effort, having to turn down a few offers for drinks on his way to her. Heath leaned on the counter with a dramatic sigh, flipping back his dirty-blond hair and flashing the woman a dazzling smile that was met with such scorn that it could have scorched the earth under the feet of any man less secure in their sense of self.

  Thankfully, Heath’s self-confidence was as well-trained as his slapshot and he shrugged her scorn off with a quirked brow and held two fingers up to the barkeep. He’d bought enough rounds for the man to understand him easily enough.

  “So, do you make a habit of glaring at your favorite hockey players?” he asked casually, letting his eyes roam shamelessly along her body.

  She was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a V-neck T-shirt under a Predators hoodie, the latter of which should have been torn off of her as soon as possible. Well, along with everything else, honestly. He couldn’t help but wet his lips, imagining her curvy body under his hands, her sweet, pouty mouth screaming his name as he fucked her into a joint state of bliss. But then his emerald green eyes made it back up to her face and dammit, she looked even less impressed than she did before.

  A challenge.

  He liked challenges. Or maybe he just liked her. Whatever. End result was the same.

  “I’m not looking at anyone I’d go so far as to call a hockey player right now,” she said tersely, pressing her lips thinner as she mirrored his slouched stance at the bar.

  The barkeep appeared with their shots, setting one in front of Heath and the other in front of his mystery girl, who had seemingly been sent by fate to make his evening more interesting.

  “Drink up. We can hate each other after that,” Heath urged, sprinkling salt on his finger and picking up a lime.

  For a hot second, he thought she was going to turn down the drink as well, but with narrowed eyes she picked it up regardless and they both threw one back with the seasoned ease of people who’d been in professional sports for long enough. As much as the PR teams worked hard to prove that they weren’t all lecherous drunkards who enjoyed wild parties and plenty of booze, the opposite was true in a lot of cases. Even when it wasn’t, the parties were still crazy.

  “So, Miss Congeniality, what did I do to earn your scorn? I’m Heath Locklear, by the way,” he said, reaching his hand to her in an attempt of a handshake.

  She looked at his big paw like he’d tried to pass her a dead fish. He pulled it back quick enough.

  Fine, princess, we’ll play this your way, he thought with a hidden smile.

  “I know who you are, thanks.”

  “Oh, so you’ve heard the name? Basked in my glory?”

  “More like laughed at your paltry stats,” she scoffed.

  Heath took a step back, clutching his heart through his black shirt as if a heart attack was going to mow him down any second now. Fortunately for the both of them, it didn’t.

  “Shots fired, missy. Am I supposed to take your abuse all night? Is that what you like? A little warm-up where you act all tough before you end up with your legs around my neck, screaming my name?”

  She outright laughed at that. It wasn’t an unpleasant sound.

  “Oh, I don’t think that’s going to happen, buddy. I don’t see any reason why I should sleep with a twerp like you, Locklear.”

  “Not my boyish good looks? My dazzling charm? My massive biceps?” he asked, flexing his arm for show and getting a round of giggles from the closest girls in response. “None of that?”

  “Nope,” she replied, but he could spot the little twist of a smile that tugged the corners of her mouth upward, making her lips look almost painfully kissable.

  Yup, whatever this woman’s plan was it was working perfectly, because she was catching all of Heath’s attention, and the desire to make her stop looking at him like something that had crawled out from the sea moments ago was beginning to tug at him painfully.

  “Right. So do I get a name here or am I going to have to beat up another Lynderly to get a sliver of interest from you?”

  “You motherfucker,” she hissed, and Heath’s eyes widened.

  Guess I found a trigger.

  “Those were my brothers you pile-drived on the ice today!”

  Uh-oh.

  Things just got a lot more fun.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Sable

  “No way! You’re far too hot to be related to those two misshapen gorillas,” Heath scoffed, and despite better judgment, Sable could feel the tips of her ears light up a little.

  She was praying the blush wouldn’t reach her cheeks.

  Why in hell did I decide to come here anyway?

  Of course, she knew exactly why. Because she’d been pissed the hell off at Mack... that is, pissed off at Heath for what he did that day during the game, and having followed plenty of hockey players both as a fan and for her work, she’d caught one of the retweets of Heath’s picture. A text later she found out that some of the boys were ambling over to the bar and she couldn’t resist the temptation to go and confront him face-to-face.

  With Heather having run off on a late-night errand, there’d been no one there to remind her what a colossally bad idea that would be, and so here she was, sharing shots with her number one persona non grata. And he was even hotter up close, which just made the whole thing perfectly infuriating.

  “Hey, I hit harder than both of them, so you really want to go about insulting my family here, wiseguy?” she asked with a quirk of her brow, giving Heath the closest thing she had to an evil eye.

  “Yeah? I wouldn’t mind seeing you get a little hot and bothered, I think,” Heath quipped back.

  She held her breath, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t run the joke into the ground like she thought he would. But of course he did.

  “Or a little bit ‘Heathed,’ if you know what I mean.”

  His grin wa
s so wide and self-congratulatory that Sable couldn’t do anything but groan and shake her head at him, wanting to choke the living daylights out of him and, oddly enough, climb him like a tree at the same time. It was becoming a real bother, honestly, because the more she looked at him, the better he looked. She loathed it.

  “Really, that’s what you went with?”

  “Hey, don’t knock it until you try it,” he said with a flourish, sweeping his hand along his toned, muscled body.

  Her eyes tracked the motion, and she might have gulped a little when her eyes reached his crotch, shooting back up again quickly. He didn’t miss it, ordering two more shots to fill the awkward silence.

  “Tell you what,” he said as the shots appeared. “You tell me your name and I promise I won’t be so tough on your brothers next time. Deal? I’ll even tell them their sister came and put up her dukes for them. I’m sure they’ll be ever so glad to hear big sister standing up for them.”

  “They’re older than I am,” Sable grumbled, finding another glass shoved into her hand.

  Their palms brushed against one another for a moment and she could basically feel the sparks flying off of his. Frankly, it took her breath away a little and looking at Heath’s expressive green eyes growing wide with surprise, it must have done the same to him. They looked at each other in silence for a loaded second, and then Sable’s tongue moved faster than her mind.

  “I’m Sable.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Sable,” Heath said, raising his glass and they swallowed the shots at the same time. “Now what else are you here for, or am I supposed to believe you came and found me just to tell me that I’m a big ol’ hockey meanie?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sable snorted, slamming the glass down on the counter.

  Stop looking at me like that. Stop it!

  But he wouldn’t. He was still staring at her like he was going to eat her for dinner, and the worst part was she sort of wanted him to.

  “Yeah you do. You liked what you saw, didn’t you?” he asked, taking her by the elbow gently.

  Sable was led away from the counter, her brows knit in irritation, yet not a word of protest came from her. She became immediately aware of how big he was, hovering over her, his chest like a wall when he made a path for them through the throng in the bar.

  “So you wanted to come and see more of me, isn’t that right, Sable? So what’s your poison? Do you like being pissed at a guy? Or just like a big hockey cock?”

  Somehow, he’d maneuvered them to a shady corner, away from most of the prying eyes, and when his hand slipped off her arm and down to her waist, an electric jolt flew through her body, equal parts desire and aggravation at him reading her so well. She flung her hand out before she could attempt to stop her brash reaction, but honestly, she didn’t feel bad for it when her hand smacked against his cheek.

  It felt oddly liberating.

  And then his eyes flashed dark brown and his hands clamped around her waist, pulling her against him tight and kissing her like he’d been dreaming of since the first moment he laid eyes on her. As soon as their lips touched, she realized that the guess wasn’t far from the truth. At least considering how her own body reacted.

  Instead of kicking at him, her fingers clutched his shirt and she rose up on her tiptoes, the six-foot-three man far taller than the curvy Latina, and her desire to be as close to possible to him was suddenly all-consuming. The kiss was all tongues and teeth and growls and it left her buzzing like nothing else.

  When Heath pulled away for a second, Sable thought that she’d finally get her wits back, because there was a very loud voice in her head absolutely screaming at her to stop and behave like a professional! Like someone who had to work with these damn hockey brutes on a daily basis! But that voice was lost the moment Heath offered her a better option.

  “Come on,” he said, his voice a strained snarl, his hand grabbing her wrist and tugging her along.

  They disappeared down a dark corridor and he tried the first door he found, discovering a small utility closet. The look Heath tossed her over his shoulder was all lust, no restraint, and she got lost in it in the most delicious way. When he pulled her into the closet, she couldn’t help but grin.

  “This is insane,” she whispered, but her lips were on him as soon as they could be and her fingers were ripping at his belt, trying to push those pants off his hips as fast as she possibly could.

  “What? You don’t like playing a little dirty sometimes, Sable?” he growled in her ear, before his tongue snaked along her earlobe and he caught it between his teeth.

  The shudder that passed through Sable was violent now and she didn’t hold back the whimper that rose to her lips. Yes, he was everything that she was supposed to hate, and yes, she’d said that she was totally and utterly done with these hockey macho men for life, but there was something about Heath that took down all her walls faster than she could build him.

  Cocky, impossible, and smug, but despite his words, he looked at her like he really, really fucking wanted her, and not just because she was a dark-haired curvy babe, but because she could challenge him. And why did she melt like butter for him? Well, that was a can of worms Sable didn’t feel like opening up at that very moment.

  Regardless, when he unbuttoned her pants and pressed them down enough to slip his hand between her legs, she moaned throatily and then sucked in a breath that came far too heavily. She hadn’t even realized it, but she was already completely drenched for him. When her hand clutched around his already-throbbing shaft, she knew she wasn’t the only one going all in on this.

  He was thick as hell, and when she ran her palm along the length a few times experimentally, her eyes threatened to roll back in her head. He was huge! Not only thick, but long and veiny and everything she wasn’t supposed to daydream about, but was sure that she’d think about again and again after this little… whatever this was.

  “That’s it,” Heath hissed, sucking on her earlobe as his coarse fingers started to slick over her wet cunt, teasing her mercilessly.

  Her knees were already buckling by the time he pushed two fingers inside of her, scissoring her with his hand bent at an awkward angle, but apparently that was no bother for the big bear hockey player. His fingers were utterly strong and she loved the way his forearm flexed against her as they taunted one another, her jerking him off and him letting his hand make her squirm around him.

  “You’re a fucking prick,” Sable hissed, half-serious, half-delirious with lust.

  “I am,” he promised, grinning. “But I’ll be your prick tonight.”

  With that, he pulled his fingers out of her and Sable whimpered at the feeling of emptiness. But she caught his drift and they pushed down one another’s pants enough to provide some sorely needed access. She was loath to take her hand off his cock, but when he grabbed her by the hips and spun her around, making her brace herself against some shelves, a wicked grin crossed her lips.

  So maybe this was exactly what she’d come for.

  Sable heaved in a quick breath as Heath pushed his cock to her wet slit, holding it there so that he was almost entering her, but not quite. When she tried to buck back against him, he stopped her, his hands holding on tight to her hips. But she still heard that strangled groan of desire that he let out when she rubbed against him.

  “Is this what you need?” he asked, his voice low and strained.

  “No, but it’s what I want,” Sable replied, looking over her shoulder. “Fuck me already, you asshole.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said mockingly, and she could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

  But none of that mattered when he finally pushed in, filling her inch by inch. Neither one of them wanted to be gentle, so when Sable let out a wailing scream of pleasure and pain, Heath’s hand cupped over her mouth, muffling it. She bucked back against him with every thrust until he was buried to the hilt in her, making her feel so full—like she was going to burst around him any
second.

  It was the most heavenly feeling she’d ever felt.

  “Holy shit,” she muttered into his hand as Heath pulled back and then started plowing into her hard and heavy, making both of them grit their teeth and bow their bodies as they were swept away by the moment.

  Heath’s free hand slipped down from her hip and his fingertips traced her clit again, starting to rub it. Sable threw her head back, gasping and groaning now, Heath’s breath hot on her neck as he leaned forward and crowded her with his body.

  Fuck, he feels so good! was the only really intelligible thought that went through her as her legs started shaking and she could feel the loaded spring of her oncoming orgasm tighten.

  When he bit her neck gently, sucking at her skin, she couldn’t hold it back any longer. He took her hand off her mouth just when she screamed out like a banshee, her fingers clutching the shelves for any support she could get as her pussy milked him, small muscles clenching around his thick cock tightly.

  “Fuck, baby,” he grumbled, whatever else he was trying to say lost in an undecipherable growl as Heath joined Sable in her orgasm.

  It was like light and sound rolled through her at the same time, making sparks flash behind her eyelids and racking shivers trundle through her mercilessly. She held on for dear life as they came together, both too taken with their own immediate pleasure to be able to notice much of anything else.

  Heath’s hands looked for support on the same shelves as Sable’s, placed next to hers now as he breathed in and out in shallow bursts, his big cock still buried inside of her. Sable rested her forehead on her arm for a moment before laughter racked her body, the ridiculousness of the whole thing hitting her as suddenly as the orgasm had.

  “What’s so funny, baby?” Heath asked, confusion in his voice, though he planted a kiss on her neck that she didn’t entirely hate.

  “I just realized you’ve fucked over half my family today, one way or another.”