Twisted Collide: The new sports romance in the Redville Saints series

The one big plus of being a hockey player is that, more often than not, no one recognizes you.

Take this moment right now. The woman beside me has no clue who I am, so in turn, this is the most relaxed I’ve been in a long time.

She doesn’t want anything from me, and it’s nice. Different.

I can be myself because what will it hurt? By the time she figures out who I am—assuming she ever does, considering her loathing of hockey—I’ll be long gone. Could she sell the information I shared? Maybe. Doubtful, though, because I still choose the things I share carefully.

I take another swig of my drink and study her.

She’s gorgeous. A bit young, but again, I’m not exchanging numbers or trying to make this more than it is.

We’ve talked about everything and nothing. Our favorite seasons—hers is fall and mine, summer. Our favorite vacation spot—she enjoys exploring a new city, while I love to get out and experience nature. She loves to read Greek mythology. Me, not so much.

For the past ten minutes, we’ve sat in peaceful silence, each lost to our own thoughts, sipping away at what has to be our fourth or fifth drink each. Neither of us is feeling the effects as we’ve been smart enough to chase every drink with two glasses of water.

“I think that’s it for me,” she says as she places her drink on the bar. “If I want to walk out of here without making a fool of myself.”

Maybe I spoke too soon.

“Drunk?”

She shakes her head. “Nah, but I will be if I keep up this pace.”

Her gaze locks onto me, and I watch as her upper teeth bite down on her lower lip. The move instantly makes my dick hard.

Fuck. I’m not ready for the night to end, but I’m also not in the place to pursue her if she says she’s going to bed.

I don’t have that luxury.

She looks innocent right now. Her previous bravado fading away to uncertainty. Although we have been tiptoeing around the idea of hooking up, this is the moment of truth, and she’s suddenly unsure.

“Cue?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at her.

“Your silence is deafening.” She chuckles awkwardly.

So damn cute.

“This is clearly where the night ends.” She offers me a small smile.

“Yeah.” I lift my arm and signal for the bartender. “Close out our tab, please.”

The girl beside me sits up straight and stops chewing on her lip. She puffs up her chest, pushing forward the confidence from before. “You don’t have to buy my drinks,” she declares.

“I do,” I respond, not leaving any room for rebuttal. “For a night of mystery.”

At my tone, she smiles. “Thank you. It was nice meeting you.”

I nod my head. “See you around,” I respond as I wait for the bill.

I watch from the corner of my eye as she stands. I’m not exactly sure where she’s off to, but I know I’ve made the right decision.

I can’t afford to be reckless in my life. I need to concentrate on my career, making sure Molly is okay, and that’s it. It’s for the best.

A girl like that, well, she would’ve been a distraction. An amazing time for the night, but that’s all it could ever be.

Nope, it’s better this way.

After about five minutes, my tab is settled, and I stand from my chair and head to the door. I place my wallet in my back pocket, and when I look up, I see a familiar figure swiftly moving toward the back entrance.

It’s her.

Where is she going?

I keep my eyes on her, intrigued by this mysterious girl. She looks left and right before she pushes the door open. It feels so clandestine.

Interesting.

Wherever she’s going, she doesn’t want anyone to see her.

What’s this little hellfire up to?

From the brief time I spent with her, I already clocked her as reckless and bad news, but still, despite this knowledge, I can’t help but follow her. I’d love to say it’s simply curiosity, but in truth, my protective nature rushes to the surface. I might not know this girl, but if she were Molly, there would be no way I’d let her walk off outside by herself at this time of night.

Especially when I know she’s itching for an adventure.

The warm summer air slaps me in the face as I step outside. I take a moment to look up, appreciating the stars twinkling overhead. That’s not something you see in the city. The full moon shines brightly, providing the minimal light out here tonight.

This property is gorgeous. One of a kind.

I’m sure half of my team is in rare form already, itching to Uber back to the city to continue the night at one of the local clubs. That’s where I differ from my friends. I want quiet, but not until I uncover where she’s off to and make sure she arrives safely to wherever she’s headed.

Step by step, I follow her. I’m practically right beside her, but she doesn’t even realize it, which is a tad concerning. She just continues walking on along without a care in the world. With each move she makes, something in her right arm reflects the light.

What is that?

A bottle?

Did she really grab a bottle and go outside to keep drinking? I shake my head, completely mystified by this woman.

It is a nice night, so I guess anything is possible.

“I know you’re following me.” Her soft voice cuts through the air. It makes me smile because, despite the low sound, there’s no denying her sarcasm.

Even tipsy, she’s giving hell.

I like it.

“I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret.”

“Well, that’s good ’cause you were doing a horrible job of blending in.”

I chuckle, my chest shaking in effect. “What are you doing out here?”

“I wasn’t ready to go to sleep yet.” One slim shoulder lifts before she starts to walk. Each step is slow and deliberate. She moves forward in a straight line and then back, then she moves a few inches and does it again. It’s almost like she’s doing it on purpose. Like she’s making a pattern.

“Why are you walking like that?”

Better question—why do you care?

Warning bells go off in my head. I don’t do social attachments. I don’t do anything but sleep, eat, and skate. And I certainly don’t ask pretty girls why they do the things they do when I should be in my room, keeping my head down. Like always.

She continues with her odd steps, unaware of the war I’ve just waged with myself.

“Walking like what?” Her balance slips as she glances down at her feet. “Oh. That. I’m tracing the shape.”

“What shape?”

“Down there.” She points at the ground.

I shake my head. “I’m not following you.”

“The fork.”

“The fork?”

“Yeah. Don’t you see it? It’s made from the rocks.”

I follow her line of sight, studying the way worn yellow stones pop against the otherwise gray pavement. The design could use another edit or five, but I make out three sharp peaks stemming from a large stick. If that’s a fork, the Eiffel Tower is a cottage.

“A fork?” I repeat, wondering if she has her head screwed on straight.

Probably not. Yet another reason you should turn around and leave.

“You don’t see it?”

Maybe I would’ve, but her lower lip juts out, and suddenly, I can’t see anything else.

“A fork designed for a sadist, perhaps.” I tap where the stone forms a jagged spike with the tip of my toe. “It’s a trident. Or it’s trying to be one, at least.”

“A trident?”

“Yes.”

She frowns. “I liked it better when it was a fork.”

“It was never a fork.” Oddly, I don’t feel good about bursting her bubble. Still, I double down. “It’s a trident. Poseidon’s trident.”

A sudden smile sweeps up her cheeks, wiping away her frown. “Poseidon’s trident,” she repeats with a nod, as if the idea satisfies her.

I expect her to say more, but instead, she finishes her journey around the trident and jets off in the opposite direction.

I follow.

Of course I do.

“Now, where are you going?” I ask, growing more curious by the second and hating it.

“The vines look lonely.” She doesn’t bother looking back at me, stampeding forward at her signature clipped pace. “Duh.”

It’s quirky, odd, and exactly something she’d say, I’m starting to realize.

It should annoy me that she knows I’d follow.

I didn’t even know I’d follow.

At this moment, she feels bigger than the moon above us. Than the Earth we’re standing on. Like she has a gravity of her own, and I’m lucky to be in her orbit.

I take a look around. Even with the moon and stars, it’s dark out here. Not exactly the best time of day to see the vineyard.

“So, you decided that this is the right time?”

“Tomorrow, I can’t.” I wonder what causes the sadness to her voice.

“And why not?” I press, not giving a fuck if I sound nosy. I am.

“Tomorrow, I report for duty.”

“Duty?” I ask, feeling like I’m going to have to drag this information out of her.

“Yes, my job. But we can’t talk about that, right?”

We had agreed not to discuss such things, but I really do want to throw that rule out, just to know a little bit more about her.

I shouldn’t care.

I should just turn around and go.

“Yeah. That’s right. No talk about our jobs.”

She takes a few more steps and then stops. I just about run right into her back. “Found them,” she says.

“Found what?”

She looks over her shoulder at me. Under the moonlight, her features are barely visible, but it doesn’t stop her from looking ethereal.

Like a goddess sent down from heaven to test my patience and tempt me to sin.

“The vines, silly.” A laugh bubbles up from her throat.

“Silly? That’s not something I’m called often.”

She shrugs but doesn’t elaborate.

I take a step closer, making my way to the space beside her.

Now, this close, I can see what she’s holding is a wine bottle, an already opened one.

“Think the grapes are ripe yet?”

I purse my lips, knowing the answer to that question. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Everyone around here knows grapes are harvested at the end of summer, early fall. I don’t think they’re even edible yet.”

“Only one way to find out.” She takes a step forward, her free hand extended.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Even in the dark, I can see her smile. Her lips tip up into a mischievous smirk.

“You’re a hellfire. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Hellfire? No. Trouble? Yep.”

I narrow my eyes, not that she can see. “Who says you’re trouble?”

“My mom and she would know.” She groans. “But again . . . we can’t talk about that.” She looks up at me and smirks. “On that note.” She reaches forward and picks a grape right off the vine.

“I don’t thi—”

“That’s your problem, grump. You think too much.”

Before I can say anything else, she pops the grape into her mouth. A second later, she’s spitting it out.

I smother my grin, watching as her face twists up at the bitterness. “Not what you expected?”

“Not even a little. That was gross. It’s like . . .” Her shoulders shiver, and she raises her hand, putting the open bottle to her mouth to wash out the taste. She makes a sound, smacking her lips together. “Better. Want some?”

I take a deep breath, knowing I should pass, turn around, and head home. But that’s not what I do.

“Might as well.”

I raise my arm and grab the bottle, taking a swig of the wine. The smooth liquid travels down my throat, pooling in my belly. It’s not exactly what I wanted, but it still does the trick.

“Guess winemaking won’t be the job for me,” she murmurs.

“No talk of jobs, remember?” I infuse enough teasing into the words.

“I’m not talking about my current job; I’m talking about what I want to do. Totally different.”

“Looking at changing career paths already? You made it sound like you haven’t even started yet.”

She turns to me. “That’s an awfully personal question.” One side of her mouth lifts.

“How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-two, if you must know,” she says, placing her free hand on her hip.

“Have you even finished college?”

She purses her lips. “Yes. Just. This will be my first job, and I’m not looking forward to it.”

“Winemaking is an interesting first job,” I muse.

“It’s something, but apparently, it’s not for me because I already seem to suck at it.”

“Do you have a backup plan?” I ask.

“By backup plan, do you mean crazy idea?”

I laugh at that. “Why am I even surprised? Sure, that’s exactly what I meant.” I wave a hand out. “This I have to hear. What’s the plan?”

She turns to face me fully, keeping her hand on her hip. “I can be a tightrope walker,” she announces like it’s not the craziest thing she’s said all night, which is saying a lot at this point.

“Oh, can you now?”

“Yep.” She pops the p.

She has to be more than a little tipsy, but you wouldn’t know it. She seems completely fine and dead-ass serious.

“And what do you know about tightropes?”

She tilts her head. “I know you put one foot in front of the other.”

“Easier said than done,” I comment, thinking about how much balance and core work that would take.

“Watch me.”

“You’re going to do it now? Right here?”

“Why not?” she shoots back.

I can think of a million reasons. The biggest being that even if she’s on the ground, she’s had too many drinks to successfully attempt this. Although she did manage to trace a trident, so who knows. Plus, a part of me wants to encourage her to try.

“All right then. Let’s see.”

I watch as she places her hands to her sides, mimicking the correct stance I’ve seen many do before. She puts one foot in front of the other, taking one step, and that’s as far as she makes it before she tips to the left side where I am. I reach out to steady her as I force down my laughter that’s bubbling to the surface.

With the ground uneven and the fact that it’s dark out, she keeps slipping, but eventually, with me by her side, she makes it across to the next row of vines.

When she stops walking, she looks over her shoulder. Our faces are practically touching with how close we are.

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” she practically whispers.

I bend down so that our noses are almost touching. “Because I helped you.”

“Exactly.” She smiles even bigger before closing the space between us.

I take it from there, fixing my mouth over hers, sealing our lips together as my tongue plunges in.

Her arms wrap around me as she pivots into my body.

The kiss is hot and fast. Desperate and needy. She tangles her fingers into my hair, and I pull her flush against me. Fusing our bodies until no space separates us. I kiss her faster. Harder.

Tongues clashing, hands roaming.

I’m lost to this woman right now. Her reckless behavior and antics make me feel alive for the first time in I can’t remember. She moans into my mouth, and I take the opportunity to lift her into the air. She wraps her legs around my waist as I walk us deeper into the vineyard.

I have no idea where I’m taking her, but I need her.

Being with her, inside her, is all I can think about.

“Where are we going?” she asks between kisses.

“Anywhere I can have my way with you.”

“Right here is fine.” The words come out breathy and full of need.

“Here?” My voice is rough and husky, the desire mounting with every second.

“Yes.”

With that, I drop her back down to her feet and pull my jacket off, placing it on the ground.

“Lie down,” I command.

I expect her to object, but she doesn’t. Instead, she sits on my jacket and leans back on her elbows, staring up at me.

With the soft glow from the moonlight, she looks like pure, innocent temptation. The kind I’m going to love to corrupt.

I drop down to my haunches and push her legs apart.

Her skirt lifts, and I’m met with a small scrap of material covering her.

Reaching my hand out, I remove it, leaving her bare to me.

“I want you,” she says.

I smile. “Patience.” I move closer, placing kisses on the exposed skin of her legs. I trail my mouth and tongue up her skin until I reach her pussy.

“Please,” she moans. I give her what she wants, closing my mouth around her clit, and sucking her.

It’s not long before she’s writhing beneath me.

“Please.”

I pull away from her. “Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

“Whatever you want, Hellfire.”

“Why do you keep calling me Hellfire?”

“I don’t know your name, but it seems fitting,” I say, discarding my shirt.

“If you only knew how right you were.” She laughs.

Moving off her, I unzip my pants and free my dick from the confines of my briefs.

I look down at her, meeting her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Never been sure about anything in my life.”

I hold her stare. “This is the one time you really need to be. So let me ask you again, are you sure?”

She takes a deep breath. “Yes. About this, I’m sure.”

“Thank fuck.”

Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out a condom, rip the foil, and then slide it over my dick.

Running my hand from root to tip, I get myself ready before moving back between her legs.

I align myself with her core and don’t hesitate before I push in.

Just the tip at first, but then her hips angle up, and she takes more of me, signaling she wants me to move.

Nothing has ever felt this good.

I’m not sure if it’s the location or the craziness of the moment, but I can’t get enough of her.

I slide in deeper until I’m fully engulfed in her heat.

“Fucking perfect.” I groan.

“Move,” she orders, and I laugh. “I need more.” She groans.

I give her what she wants, driving my cock into her. My hips rock, and I start to fuck her in earnest. She meets me thrust for thrust, perfectly in sync with every move I make.

She’s close, and I’m just as close.

Her eyes close on a moan, and I watch her closely. Her mouth is agape, and her chest heaves. I lift her shirt and bra, baring one perfect breast to me.

I wish I could take my time with her and devour every inch of this woman. But I can’t. We’re in the middle of a vineyard where anyone could come across us, even at this time of night.

“Harder,” she begs.

As I stare down at her, I can’t help but feel connected to her. A sense of familiarity washes over me. Opposites may attract, but like calls to like. I can see the same brokenness. The same rebellion I feel some days written all over her.

“Please,” she says, and it helps to bring me back to the moment.

Reaching between us, I rub her clit furiously until her body quakes beneath me, and she’s falling over the edge.

Electricity runs through my body at the feeling of her pussy clamping down on my dick. The look on her face as her orgasm crashes over her is a thing of fucking beauty.

“Fuck,” I groan as I fall over the edge with her.