Page 83 of An Irresistible Force (Vancouver Vice)

“You forgive me, right?” I asked.

“For what?”

“I don’t even know. Whatever you’ve been mad about. Selling you guys out to the Millionaires? Snoring too loud? Not making you come enough?”

Amanda laughed. “Well, you did that last thing. I can’t believe you’re asking me to forgive you when you don’t even know what you’ve done.”

“I just want you to start returning my messages. So we can see each other again.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been so rude. I guess I’m just afraid....”

“Afraid of me?”

She shook her head. “Not of you.”

Her forehead creased, and her mouth began to tighten. Maybe it was better to keep things light.

I pointed at the poster of me. “When did you first get a crush on me? In my rookie year?”

“Mr. Egotistical. I’m not telling you.”

“Oh no?” I reached under the covers and tickled her. Amanda squirmed around. Her baggy pajamas were at least soft to touch, even if they hid all the fun parts of her.

She pushed my hands away. “Why are you torturing me? I’m sure tons of women have had crushes on you.”

Not sane ones. I had always disliked the ridiculous things women had done to try to get my attention. They never liked me. They liked an image they had of me. Amanda was the opposite. She had tried so hard not to let me know she ever had a crush on me. “Please?”

“Oh, honestly. All right. It was in your second year as a Millionaire.”

“My second year? I totally sucked that season. I got sent down to the AHL. Why would you like me then?”

“I don’t know... because I could see how hard you were trying and how frustrated you were. I could identify with you more. In your rookie year, everything went your way, and you were a little arrogant—that wasn’t appealing at all. The combination of humility and talent was better.”

I nodded. That crappy second year had taught me how tough the NHL was. I had to bring my work level up to whatever natural talent I had. And it taught me not to take anything for granted.

She touched my cheek, and I covered her hand with mine. The tightness was gone from her face as she spoke. “Like last night, you were so emotionally open and sweet.”

“Oh great. All I need to do is totally wimp out to be attractive to you. Like some chick flick hero.” I turned my face into her palm and kissed it.

“It’s not wimping out to be honest. You’ve spent too long being a public person—sometimes I can’t even tell who the real Chris is.”

I groaned. “It’s way too early for this crap.” I reached out and pulled her closer. “But you know what it’s not too early for....”

Amanda protested, “Chris, no way. I mean, here? Now?”

I slipped a hand under her top and felt the soft skin of her waist. “Why not? The walls of old houses are thick and soundproof, so I can make you scream again. I like to hear you scream and lose control.” My fingertips found her breast, and I played with her nipple until it was pointy and hard. Amanda’s eyes were shut, and her lips parted.

“Uh, okay. I’m convinced.” She wrapped her arms around me. Her short nails dug into my bare back, a little reminder that she wasn’t all sugary sweet. My mouth found hers, and I opened up her lips and felt her hot breath mix with mine. My hard cock pressed against her soft tummy, and I reached down to ease the over-sized flannel pajamas off her.

I kissed her, and she pressed her sweet lips against mine. Life felt a helluva lot better this morning.

After my shower,I offered to sneak out of the house, but Amanda insisted that I stay for breakfast. I suspected I was number one on Jeannie Richardson’s shit list, but I’d have to face the music sometime. We both went down to the dining room where Jeannie was reading a newspaper and drinking coffee.

She put down the paper and spoke as casually as if I lived there. “Good morning, Christopher. Did you sleep well?”

“Uh, yeah. Great.” I sat down at the table, which was already set with places for both Amanda and me.

“Coffee or tea?” Bonita had materialized beside me.

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