Stand and Defend (Lakes Hockey Series Book 4)

“Cam,” Jordan whispers. It takes a minute for me to remember I’m in the boathouse. I didn’t get back to my folks’ place until almost midnight after our loss and the grueling press box that added insult to injury.

“Yeah?” I croak out. My voice is still sore from shouting at last night’s game.

“Can I get the keys? I need to run to the store.”

I crack open one eye. “Jesus, the sun isn’t even up yet. What do you need from the store?”

“I just need to pick up some things.” She holds her hand out, gesturing for me to give them to her. “Where are the keys?”

I roll over, my voice is muffled against my pillow that I’m planted face-first into. “Whatever you need, we probably have it here.”

“No, you don’t. I got my period. Funny thing about periods, if you don’t have a tampon, it’s kind of a time sensitive issue.”

Fucking hell.

I groan and sit up. “Go take a bath. I’ll run to the store.” She opens her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. “Don’t argue with me, it’s too fuckin’ early. Just do it, Sunshine.”

When she exits the room, it’s not long before I hear the bathtub filling up, and the corner of my mouth tips up.

I throw on a pair of joggers, a baseball cap, and grab a jacket. On the tram, I enjoy the view. Fog hangs above water on the river, and frost covers the fallen leaves on the ground. Shit, I need a cup of coffee. I stop in my parents’ house, in case either of my sisters have something.

I stick my head into Alexis’s room first.

“Yo. Wake up. Do you have a tampon?”

“Fuck off, it’s too early,” Alexis says, shoving a pillow over her head. Somebody’s got a wine hangover.

I try Hailey’s room.

“No, I use a cup. Oh no, did Jordan get her period?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna make a store run.”

There’s a loud thud from the room next door, and Alexis stumbles out, squinting with her hand in the air. “Did you say you’re going to the store?”

“Yeah, you need something?”

“No. You’re going to the store. To buy tampons. For your ‘friend.’”

Christ, this again. She’s dissecting my life as if it’s some show on Bravo for her to pick apart. “Yes?”

Hailey’s smile spreads ear to ear, then she looks at our other sister, then back to me. “Holy shit. You like her.”

I roll my eyes and turn to leave. “Don’t even start. It’s way too early for your meddling-sister bullshit. I’m heading out. Text me if you need something.”

Alexis grabs my arm and pulls me back. Older sisters are such a pain in the ass. No matter how much taller or bigger I am, they will always see me as their baby brother.

Hailey brings her covers up to her chin like she’s cozying up for story time. “Fuck, you’re serious about this one.”

“Do you need anything, or can I leave?”

“I need to know more about what this thing is between you two!” Alexis says.

I don’t even know what it is, how can I explain it to my sisters? “None of your fucking business is what it is.”

Alexis crosses her arms. “You stole your best friend’s bride, then fell in love with her—this is so rich it must be fattening.”

Hailey’s hands rise to her cheeks. “Omigod. Can this be my Christmas present?”

I roll my eyes.

“I never liked Bryan,” Alexis adds.

“I know, right? Such a douchebag⁠—”

“I’m not in love with her!”

“Uh-huh,” they say in unison. Goddamn it.

Alexis puts her hand on her hip. “Well, it’s the closest you’ve ever come to love. Do you know what kind of tampons to buy?”

No fucking clue. I figure if I buy a large enough variety, one of them should work. “Leaving now.”

“For what it’s worth, I like her,” Hailey calls after me.

“Me too,” Alexis adds.

And myself makes three.

“Stop crying.”

“Shut up,” Jordan says, sniffling. “It’s a period cry, it doesn’t count.”

After grabbing half a dozen boxes of tampons—and all the other shit my sisters used to get when they had their periods: pain meds, chocolate, potato chips, four kinds of dip, ice cream, and men’s sweatpants—Jordan grabbed all the bags into her arms and sobbed.

“You even got bath bombs! You are-are-are s-such a softie.”

Soft is the last thing I am around her. The hair on the nape of her neck is still wet from the bath and she’s wearing the same stained sweatshirt she was wearing at the coffee shop. She really ought to have a Lakes hoodie by now. One with my name on the back.

“Whatever. Are you taking a nap with me or what?”

“It’s not even ten a.m.”

“You had me up at the ass crack of dawn after a game night.” I yawn and head for my bedroom.

“Was it scary having a gun held to your head?”

“Jesus Christ,” I grumble, kicking off my shoes and throwing my hat and shirt into the corner of the room. I collapse onto my bed like falling timber. “Get in here.” The sheets are cool and soft, perfect for napping, but it would feel better if she was cuddled up next to me.

She trudges in behind me and stands awkwardly next to the bed, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “I might head up to the house. Logan said he was making hash browns this morning. I was kind of hoping for another peek at his tattoos.”

I crack open one eye and capture her waist, hauling her into bed. “Did you forget what happened last time you flirted with a guy at Top Shelf? If you wanted me to fuck you, all you have to do is ask.”

She rolls her eyes. “Did you forget I’m on my period?”

“No.”

She spins in my arms to look at me. Her raised eyebrows are all I needed to see. I’m definitely fucking her. I’ve never done it before; the opportunity hasn’t presented itself. But when I was looking up things that relieve cramps, sex was near the top of the list. Sold.

“I’ll give you all the orgasms you want, but let me get a couple more hours of sleep first. There’re apple scones in the bag if you’re hungry.”

She sniffles again and pulls out of my arms. The sound of paper bags crumpling tells me she’s digging them out. More sniffling.

I roll onto my back, chuckle, and drape my arm over my eyes. “Stop crying over pastries.”

“They’re my favorite.”

I need her to stop talking so I can go back to sleep. “I know, Sunshine . . . Eat up, then come to bed.”

When I wake up, I’m much more well-rested. I smile at the warm ball of sweatshirt and sweatpants next to me. She’s facing away, curled up in the fetal position, e-reader tucked in her hand. Her hair is all over the place, only half is being contained by the elastic band. “Nice hair, I hope you win.”

“You’re one to talk, hockey hair.”

I chuckle under my breath and nuzzle the back of her hoodie.

“Sweetheart, top-drawer lettuce shows my commitment to the game and is a sacred hockey tradition.” But she’s right, I need a haircut. “How are you feeling?” My voice is groggy.

“Meh. How are you feeling? You’re grumpy when you’re tired.”

“Maybe I’ve got my period too.”Original content from NôvelDrama.Org.

Reaching behind, she slaps my leg. “You couldn’t handle a day with a vagina.”

“I’ll happily handle yours all day long to prove you wrong.”

She swipes the screen, flipping the page in her book. “You’re a pig.”

Smirking, I pull her close to me and hold her wrist up so I can read the page she’s on. She tugs back, but I keep it steady. I thought romance novels had poetic language like stalks, petals, and other floral-genital comparisons. Not these books . . . Damn, this is explicit. There’s no mistaking what stuffing a cunt and fisting a cock are.

“What the hell are you reading?”

“It’s a romance,” she says, laughing.

“No, sweetheart, it’s porn. Give it here. I want to read.”

“Fine, but then you read it out loud.”

I smirk. “I think we’ve established I’m not shy about talking dirty. What’s this about, anyway?”

The blush on her face makes me weak. She’s so innocent on the outside, but she has a greedy mind and even greedier pussy. For whatever reason, she’s been waiting for me to let it out—and fuck if that doesn’t get my dick hard.

“It’s about this hockey player who⁠—”

“A hockey player!” I almost can’t contain my laughter. “Why are you reading about it when you could have the real thing?”

She tries to snatch the e-reader back from me, but I hold it out of reach. “For the romance. It’s not all about sex.”

Well, what the fuck? I can be romantic. I think. I bought tampons, didn’t I? I flip a couple pages, skimming the words. It’s spicy, but I’d love to act it out on her. I read to myself as the man in the story porks his girlfriend. Cliffs Notes: he leaves hickies under her tits, rubs figure eights into her clit, puts her legs on his shoulders, fucks her till she screams for mercy, then professes his undying love to her. Piece of cake, I can do that. Well, except for the last one. Oh, and maybe skip the eye-darkening thing—whatever the fuck that means. The only way my eyes darken is getting in a fight and walking away with a black eye. Also, this dude growls at her a whole fuckin’ lot, so I’ll have to take some liberties there.

When I finish the chapter, I hand it back to her. She wants a hot hockey player, I’ll give her one. “You know . . . orgasms are supposed to relieve cramps. That’s romantic.”

“Cramps? These aren’t cramps. This is my uterus so pissed off I haven’t put a baby in her womb room that it’s decided to rip out the insulation in all four walls and attic. The last thing I need is your bulldozer of a dick getting in there and helping. Cramps he says . . . Unbelievable.” She shakes her head and stares at me for a second. “Sorry, I’m feeling slightly agitated.”

“It might help . . .”

“Do you have any idea what kind of mess that would make?” She knows I love messes. “I’m in the middle of a good part. Go back to sleep.”

I smile. “How big of a mess?”

“You know that elevator scene in The Shining?”

Sitting up, I push her legs apart and loop my thumbs at the top of her sweatpants. She lifts her ass for me to pull them off.

“You think I’m scared of a little blood, baby?” I point to my jaw, a butterfly bandage holding together a cut from a scuffle on the ice last night.

The soft pads of her fingers brush over the healing laceration. “Did it hurt?”

“It stung.” I massage the backs of her thighs, and she relaxes into the bed. “Have you ever had period sex?”

“No.”

That makes me happy. “Me either . . . Let me take care of you. I’ll be gentle.”

She stares at me for a few seconds, then concedes. “I’m going to get a towel, but I’ve got to deal with some things first.”

“Whatever you gotta do.”

She hops out of bed and enters the bathroom, closing the door behind her, and I harden. The water turns on and off a few times.

I’m not even sure if this will work, but I’m more than willing to try it out. All I have to do is make her orgasm, right? Should be easy enough. The bathroom door opens, she’s lost the sweatshirt, wearing only a soft pink sports bra and a towel around her waist. She crawls into bed, and I untie the towel and spread it out. God, I love seeing her naked.

She covers her stomach. “I’m bloated.”

My dick’s so hard that when I shove down my joggers it slaps my abs. “Does it look like I care?”

She laughs and looks away. It’s nice to see her smile.

I rub circles into her clit. Her soft moan has me pressing against her opening. Slowly, probably slower than I ever have before, I fit inside. She grits her teeth and hisses. I pull out and spit on my cock for extra lubrication, but when I enter again, she still winces at the discomfort.

“What hurts?”

She props herself up on her elbows. “Actually, I think it’s the piercings. It just doesn’t feel good like it usually does. We can skip this.” She tries to wrap the towel around her waist again.

I sit up on my heels and slide out, unscrewing the bars one at a time, then setting them on the bedside table.

“You’re taking them out?”

“Yeah, you said they hurt. If this doesn’t work, we’ll figure out something else.”

When the last bar is removed, it feels oddly smooth. I much prefer the balls sliding over my palm, but what my girl wants, my girl gets. I spit again and push inside. This time she hums with a soft smile and falls onto her back, resting comfortably. “Much better.”

Fuck yeah. I could always get her off by rubbing her clit, but the urge to be inside Jordan is too great. And when it comes to her, I’m even more selfish than usual.

I grab the little reading device and hand it back to her. “Enjoy your book.”

Her teeth sink into her full lower lip as she takes it from me. I keep my eyes on her while she reads, occasionally catching a sight of my cock leaving her swollen pussy. Jordan has painted me with streaks of pink and red, and it makes me feel like a caveman.

Knowing she’s offering herself to me when she’s fragile and depending on me to make her feel better, makes my chest swell. I get her in ways others haven’t had her. I get her in ways I’ve had no one else.

“What part are you on?”

“Foreplay.”

She reads the section I’ve already read. I push up her sports bra to suck under her breasts. She locks eyes with me when she realizes I’m acting out the scene. I wink at her, and she smiles with her tongue tucked into her cheek. I nip underneath like the author described. She moans, and her hand falls on my shoulder while delicate nails caress me. I’ve felt how hard she can scratch, but she’s soft with me today. I don’t mind it, those fingertips have me hypnotized. I crave her touching me like this.

Her chest rises and falls harder. I lick between her breasts and raise my gaze. “Read aloud for me.”

She recites from the book, and I grin. Sitting up on my heels, I plant my palms on each of her bent knees and push them apart, and she stammers through the sentence. Now it’s a game for me.

My thumb rubs eights into her clit, and her breath catches. I quote the male character with her as she reads. “Such a pretty pussy.” She covers her face. I lean down and pry her hand away to whisper in her ear, “You have such a pretty pussy, Jordan.”

She shakes her head and returns to reading with rosy cheeks. It’s adorable.

She pulls the book away for a moment to watch me, and her blush fades as she’s lost in the moment, her hips rise to meet me. “Fuck,” she whimpers. Her voice is breathy and sexy as hell.

“How’s the pain?”

“Better.”

Nothing feels greater than taking some of her hurt.

“Good. Keep going.”

She continues the story, and I slide my hands under her calves to bring them to my shoulders. Rising to my knees, I wrap an arm around her legs and raise her up with me, thrusting deeper.

Her sentences are flustered and punctuated with moans, cries, and the occasional swear word. “Cam, there’s no way I can keep going with you down there. I can’t focus.”

“Try. You want to come don’t you?”

“Yes.”

I turn my head to kiss the inside of her knee. “Then I guess you better keep reading.”

My thumb returns to her clit, and her thighs shake. “You’re being so good for me.” I freestyle that part.

I grip her legs, holding her tight as I thrust in and out. Each time I push back inside, it’s harder than the thrust before. She’s so tight, right on the brink of falling apart.

“His pounding is relen—relentless, I’m on fire. His gaze scorches my skin as he offers his heart. ‘I’m so fucking in love with you,’ he growls. I come instantly. Afterward, he drops me down and he snuggles behind me, holding me. And in th-that moment I’m certain my feelings mirror his. There. Done.” She wraps up the chapter and tosses the device aside, grasping the sheets.

The way she grinds against me, she needs more friction. I lower her legs to the bed, leaving the head of my cock notched inside her. I cross one of her legs over and drop to my elbow, rolling her to the side so I can spoon her from behind and push inside. She reaches back, hooking her hand behind my neck for leverage as she rolls her hips. I cover her hand with mine, and my thumb rubs reassuring circles over hers, and she moans my name. Ugh, I love it when she does that.

“Say I’m your type.”

“What?”

I halt my movement. “Say it.”

“You’re not, Camden.” I hear the sadness in her voice, and it kills me. She’s lying.

“I am. You’ve never been fucked the way I fuck you. And you’re not allowed to come until you admit I’m exactly the type you’ve always needed.”

“I don’t want to,” her voice quavers.

“But it’s the truth, isn’t it?”

She shakes her head.

I ease in and out, and it’s agony for both of us.

With a patronizing voice, I mock, “What’s the matter, baby? You want to come, is that it? Are you so tense you can hardly stand it?” I add pressure to her clit, level my eyes with her and growl, “Tell me you’ve felt this with another man. Lie to me, I dare you. I can feel your pussy trying to suffocate me. You fucking love this.”

She stills.

“Admit I’m your type, and I’ll make you feel so good.”

She swallows and shakes her head. That pisses me off. Why won’t she say it? We are great together.

“It’s not up to you anymore.” If she won’t accept I’m her type, I’ll prove it to her with the best orgasm she’s ever had.

I let my fingers work her clit the way she needs to get off. I know what she likes; I’ve studied her body, her movements, her sounds, everything. I can bring her to the brink in less than a minute.

I sit up on an elbow and turn her chin toward me. “Look at me.”

Her eyes open, filled with darkness and desire and tears. In the back of my mind, I’m screaming at myself to pull away, to stop. She’s under my skin, burrowed into my soul, and I hate it. Goddamn it, Jordan! Let me be your type!

I can’t wait. It’s as if she can hear my thoughts, because finally, finally, her lips part.

“You’re my type,” she whispers.

My lips crash to hers, and I come like a fucking firehose. Every thrust is so satisfying.

Her body quakes as she whimpers my name over and over.

“Fuck, Sunshine. Where have you been all my life? I should have gotten with you a long time ago. It would have saved us both a lot of trouble, wasting all our time fucking the wrong people.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them, it’s too much, too fast. Thankfully, my audible stream of consciousness is drowned out by her pleasure. I ignore my admission and draw her close, and she collapses against me. I thread our fingers together and hug her body to mine from behind. Only stopping to lift her hand and press my lips to her knuckles.

We lie in silence for an amount of time that isn’t long enough, but eventually, she gets up and we clean each other off in the shower. I help dry her off, then she pulls on a baggy T-shirt and the men’s sweatpants I bought earlier. I wash and slip my piercings back in before we crawl into bed. Normally, I’m not one to lay around all day, but I can imagine nothing better than spending today in bed with Jordan, watching the black waters outside rush by. I’m perfectly content with her proximity.

Her fingertips trace my jaw line as she looks up at me, resting her chin on my chest. Damn, I could get used to this. “Three good things,” she says.

I smile and slide my hand through her wet hair. For whatever reason, that question makes me weak.

“Taking away your pain with my dick? Pretty awesome . . . Seeing my family fawn over you was something. And . . . this.” I pull her up and lock my lips on hers. This time when I kiss her it feels different. It’s not intense like last time after Bryan left. It’s gentle. It’s comfortable and safe. It’s familiar. It’s Jordan.

“Could you see us as more than friends?” I ask.

“What?” She closes on me.

“Dating, being exclusive with each other.”

She tucks a hair behind her ear. “I did at one time . . . but I respect your stance on keeping things casual. I don’t want to tie you down. I’m happy with what we have now. This is better.”

Fucking figures. I finally find a woman who I can see myself with—who I want to tie me down—and I’ve already convinced her we can’t be more. I talked her out of a relationship with zero foresight into what could be. What a fucking idiot.

“I know, I just⁠—”

“Wait, is that what you want now? To be in a relationship?” She detaches from me and sits up. Shit.

“I don’t know.”

With wide eyes, she puffs out her cheeks and plants her hands on her hips before exhaling. “What the fuck, Cam? Seriously?”

“I said I don’t know. I wouldn’t be opposed to trying it out.”

“The sex is great—no, the sex is phenomenal—but what I needed from a relationship previously isn’t enough now. I can’t ask you to be the man I need. That wouldn’t be fair.”

“I see. So what do you need?”

“I don’t want to worry about what happens when I’m not around. I need someone who will kneel at my feet and let everyone know I’m theirs. I need to be their one and only. I’m finally in a good place. I can’t give up my heart for something you want to try out. Especially not with you. You’re my closest friend. It’s too risky.”

It’s like a knife to my chest. She thinks I won’t be faithful to her? That I wouldn’t cherish what we have? I’d never hurt her that way.

I swallow the lump in my throat, doing my best to brush off the rejection.

“Okay.” I grin, trying to feign amusement at her rebuttal.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“Why? For telling the truth? It’s fine, Jordan. Let’s keep the good times rolling, then. It was just something I threw out there. No big deal.”

Dropping to an elbow, she snuggles up to me again.

“You’re okay just keeping it physical?”

I nod. “Definitely.”

What’s my alternative? Saying no and losing everything? The friendship we’ve formed, her safety, the comfort I feel when she’s next to me. I’m not chancing that. Somehow over the last few weeks, Jordan’s become my best friend. She understands me. She’s my favorite person.

When she drops her ear to my chest again, it’s not long before she’s napping in my arms. I scrub a hand down my face.

Fuck.