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CHAPTER1
EZEKIEL
“What’s with you tonight,Stone? We just won another game. You had another shutout. And by the looks of the women in this bar, I’m sure you can have your pick of anyone in here tonight.”
Grunting at Luke Zagari, my right wing, is my only response as I shoot the tequila shot that was placed in front of me and swipe my beer to chase it. I don’t have to have a reason to be in a bad mood. I don’t have to have a reason to be in a good mood. I’m the Gangsta Goalie from New York City. The Bad Boy of The Strykers. People expect me to be rough, tough, and harsh. It’s part of my charm and what sells seats in the arena. There’s never a night fans don’t get some sort of show from me.
I know what keeps my name relevant.
It’s also just who I am, who I became once they drafted me. Being raised super conservative, I was a fish out of water when I first got to the Big Apple. But I ran with it. I enjoy the parties, the women, the spotlight, the fights. Everything I was told I shouldn’t do as a kid, I get to do now.
And I get paid for it.
But after nine years in the league, doing this same old thing, I’ll admit it’s getting tiring. There’s nothing new anymore. It used to be a high, a chase to get the women. A game to pick a fight and get the opponent to swing first. Now, they take one look and throw themselves at me. Both to fuck and to fight.
The league is tiring of my shit, too. I’ve been warned, suspended and threatened with a voided contract. Fuck them, too. I’ve got enough money to last me for the rest of my life. If they want to cut the one player who fills the stands, let them.
They’ll be back, begging me to play.
A woman walks by and the guys at the table all start whistling at her. I see the side view of her, which displays curves for days. But when she slows and turns our way, her emerald green eyes nearly knock me out of my seat. I’m held captive and all I want to do is peruse her body, but her stare holds me and I can’t look away.
“Hey beautiful, why don’t you join us?” Luke says.
Her lips twitch and she raises a brow, still imprisoning me with those eyes.
“You want me to join you?” Her voice floats like a song through the air.
“We sure do.” Blake Getz coos.
My fist clenches on the table. She drops her eyes to it, then brings those gorgeous greens back to my face. Tilting her head, she asks, “How about you? You want me to join you?”
The guys ‘ooooh’ and push me around. “Every freaking time. This guy only has to look at them!”
“Hey!” I bark out. “Be respectful.” Blake's eyes widen and he leans back in his chair, putting his hands up in a defensive move.
“My bad, bro.” He stands and pulls his chair out, gesturing for the woman to sit. “I’ll go get us another round. Luke, come on.”
They take their leave, and she takes the now empty seat next to me. See what I mean? The women flock to me. I’ll take what they offer.
But this one feels different. She’s drop dead gorgeous, for one. And when she walked by the table, it was like our souls called to each other.
Okay, maybe it was just the soul in my cock. But I want her. So, I’ll have her.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” I lean in closer. Fuck, she smells good. I still can’t get past her face, but as she rests her arm on the table and leans to the side, the cleavage she displays is out of this world.
My mouth waters just thinking about getting those tits in my mouth.
“It’s Honey.” Her full lips capture my attention again, and all I can think about is biting her bottom lip.
“Honey! Baby! I’ll call you anything you want me to.”
She scoffs, leaning back in the chair, which only pushes her tits out further. Her tank is thin, and it’s clear she isn’t wearing a bra.
Fuck me.
Discreetly, I adjust myself under the table, feeling like a teenager. It's been a while since a woman has had this impact on me, so tonight just got more intriguing.
“No, my real name is Honey.” She shrugs. “My parents are flower children, free spirits who love to love.” She slashes her hand through the air. “So, I got a sweet name, pun intended.”
