One Timer: An Nashville Assassins Novel Read online

  “Tell me the truth. Tell me what the pictures don’t say.”

  I grin, my heart nearly exploding in my chest. I’m unsure if it’s a good idea to tell my adult daughter our story, but my wife did tell me to fix it. I wrap my arm around her, kissing her temple before clearing the emotion from my voice.

  “Well, one thing these photos don’t show is the moment I fell in love with her.”

  “Or how he hit on me with the perfect confidence of a man who knew what he wanted.”

  I look up to see my wife in the doorway.

  “He knew I was it. And all I was looking for was a good time.”

  “But I wanted more than just a good time.”

  Her eyes lock with mine, and it feels like it’s more than twenty years earlier and I am falling all over again. “He wanted everything.”

  I nod, feeling Allison’s gaze on us. “And I got it.”

  Harper’s eyes darken, and my whole body explodes in flames. This woman. This life she gave me. Nothing could ever compare. “You gonna let me tell the story?”

  She gives me a dry look, coming toward us and sitting beside Ally. “Have we ever done anything apart since then?”

  Our gazes stay locked as I shake my head. “Never.”

  “Well, we won’t start now.”

  My heart burns in my chest for this woman. “Are we censoring?”

  Harper laughs, but Allison’s face is full of horror. “Yes, please censor. I don’t want to hear about y’all’s sex.”

  Harper grins at me. “Fine. Plus, we know what happened.”

  Man, we sure do, and she will always be the best moments of my life.

  Nice Stick

  Harper

  Twentysomething years ago…

  * * *

  My best friend Elli Fisher would seriously lose her ass if it weren’t attached.

  She forgets everything and anything. She blames it on her thyroid, says it makes her forgetful, though I have a hard time thinking something the size of a butterfly can ruin so much. But I have seen it happen. I’ve watched my best friend gain so much weight so fast, and it wasn’t like she was eating junk food. It all just happened, quickly, and because of it, I’ve watched her lose a man and her career over it. Elli being Elli, though, she fought back, lost the weight, and made a new career.

  She’s my idol.

  We’ve been best friends since we were maybe five. We lived next door to each other, and then we shared an apartment in New York. I went to NYU for digital arts, and she was on Broadway. Man, those were the times. We partied, we laughed, and man, did we live. The men threw themselves at us, but Elli was committed to a fuckface named Justin, so I made sure to console all the men she rejected. I don’t know what it is about a man, but hell if I don’t love them. Relationships are for the birds, though. Elli is a good example of that, and I am A-okay without one. Love ’em and leave ’em is my motto.

  As I haul ass through Luther Arena to meet up with Elli, I can’t help but remember the times she would run across campus to bring me my camera or notebook. She is the ultimate best friend. We’ve been through so much together, good times and bad, and we’d die for each other. We always based our relationship off the one in Sex and the City. There are only two of us, but we might as well be four. I have enough personality for four women, and she has enough love. We’re a pair, Elli and I. She’s always dressed to the nines and looks perfect in her heels, while I’m lucky if I brush my hair. She budgets and likes control; I live on one hell of a prayer. She’s insecure, and I’m so confident that it makes her confident. She’s a romantic, and I just want to fuck.

  But hell if I don’t love her more than I do myself some days.

  When I see her looking pristine as always, I grin as I wave the bulbs in the air. I cry out, “It’s a madhouse out there!”

  Elli is panicked. This is a huge thing for us. We’re shooting the Nashville Assassins, our hockey team, and while yes, her uncle owns the team, this is the first time she’s been asked to shoot for them. Believe me, we’ve applied like nine times, and I even asked Bryan Fisher over dinner once. He laughed at me. He doesn’t take me seriously, though. I’ll always be Elli’s flighty, artsy-fartsy friend.

  “I know. Come on! Let’s go put in the bulbs.”

  I’m pretty sure she’s five seconds away from curling up and crying like a baby. She doesn’t do well under pressure, and she loves the Nashville Assassins. The woman is probably the biggest fan I know. She has a room in her house dedicated to them. Her massive cow of a dog, yeah, he’s named after the captain of the team. Which is good for me because I won trivia at the bar the other night because I knew his name. Sure as shit didn’t know his first name, but I got the Adler part down and won fifty bucks for drinks. When I told Elli, she was disgusted that I didn’t know Shea Adler’s whole name and said she’d failed me. I now know his name is Shea Ryan Adler, he’s twenty-nine, has a twin sister, is from Boston where he grew up with both parents, he’s looking but hasn’t found the one, and he’s been the captain of the Nashville Assassins for three years. So, the next time there is Shea Adler trivia, I’m so winning.

  Elli says something to some lady, but I’m off screwing in the bulbs. She’s the talker of the pair. She oozes professionalism. I have purple hair, so, ya know, people don’t take me seriously. I graduated at the top of my class with a major in graphic design and even have a minor in business studies. I think one of the rules is don’t dye your hair crazy colors, but I tend to stay away from rules. I like being me, and I refuse to change that.

  As I move to fix the lights and position them, I slip a little. The ice is a whole lotta slippery, but of course, it is ice. Duh. My heart is pounding, and I know it’s because Elli is freaking out. She looks gorgeous with her auburn hair down in curls along her shoulders. She’s wearing a cute little dress that hugs all her curves. After losing most of the weight she had gained, she was left with some killer curves. I don’t have curves. Or breasts. But hey, I can suck a cock like no other.

  I crouch down and open her bag to get out her camera. After attaching the right lens and making sure the flash is connected, I stand up to hand it to her. She takes it, but she doesn’t smile or say thank you. I don’t take offense. I’m just glad she’s standing. “Go on over there and let me test-shoot, Harp.”

  I nod and quickly but carefully head to the spot we have marked for the players. Usually they do these in a black room, but I made the suggestion they should do it on the ice so it’s more realistic. Bryan was appreciative of my artsy-fartsy self then. I pose with a stick, making sure not to smile since I don’t think hockey players do. No teeth and all. I do it to make Elli laugh, but she’s too nervous. I do get a small smile, though. When she looks down at the camera with a nod, I place the stick back and head toward her just as the guys start to come onto the ice.

  Now, I am aware how gorgeous hockey players are. Elli has that room that shows off all of them, but there is a difference between seeing them on TV or in a picture and seeing them up close.

  Big difference.

  “Good golly, Miss Molly! Look at them. Good Lord. They are gorgeous,” I whisper to her, and I can see she wants to die. If she weren’t such a professional, I’m pretty sure she would have smacked me. Not that I would feel it, though. I’m too engrossed in each gorgeous man and his snazzy little jersey. The purple looks great on the guys, and the Assassin on the front with the Nashville skyline coming out of his shoulders is pretty badass. As I gaze at each of them, I realize I want to taste them all.

  But then I notice a certain green-eyed devil checking me out.

  Hell. Yes.

  As each guy poses, I lean in as the amazing assistant I am. “For the love of God, El, that dude is hot.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Hush, Harp.”

  “No, really. Like, please, can I hit on one of them? Just one?” I don’t know why I agreed not to hit on any of these fine men, but that was a really big mistake on my part. I want to be in an Assassin
s sandwich, covered and smushed by all of them.

  “No.”

  She’s so rude. “You’re no fun.”

  She laughs it off, and that makes me happy. She’s in her groove, unaffected by my crazy. When Green-Eyed Devil—also known as Number Two—comes off the bench with one hell of a smirk on his gorgeous face, I don’t care what Elli wants me to do; I want him.

  “Oh, to hell with what you say. Number Two is mine after this.”

  And there is no stopping me. Even with her pointed gaze, my eyes are locked with his. He’s huge—I mean, like, smash a log with his bare hands huge, and I want to be that log. He’s more than gorgeous; he’s stunning. He has hard lines on his face, killer green eyes, and brown hair that is shaved up the sides and short on top. He looks like a Calvin Klein model, and I want to see him in nothing but those signature white undies.

  “Hush, Harper!” Man, she full-named me. She usually calls me Harp. So rude.

  Number Two should be looking at the camera, but those sexy eyes are on me. I run my tongue along my bottom lip, biting it gently as he takes in a sharp breath. In those green depths, I see nothing but the promise of a damn good time.

  Yup, he’s mine.

  After his action shot of him shooting, looking like a biscuit I want to devour, he is supposed to head to the bench. But instead, he comes toward us. My body goes taut, my pussy tightens, and I swear, I can smell him from where I stand.

  Then, he speaks.

  “Nice hair, beautiful.”

  God, I’m coming home.

  He may have knocked the air out of me, but I have my wits. I grin wildly at him, pushing back my shoulders so my tits look bigger than they are. “Nice stick,” I say and then, very dramatically, run my eyes down his body and not to his stick but his stick. His eyes dance with excitement, and my body does the same. He skates off with a wink, and I am stoked. He is so becoming a notch on my bedpost.

  Meanwhile, Elli is dying.

  “You are impossible, Harper Allen.”

  And she wouldn’t change a damn thing about me. She’d be so bored without me.

  I actually feel the moment when Shea Adler hits the ice. It’s crazy. I sense Elli go completely still. I can hear the air rush out of her, and when I glance at her, she looks as if she just saw Brad Pitt naked. I’ve never seen her stare at someone like that. Be so engrossed in them. I look over at where Shea Adler stands with his stick. He has the brightest blue eyes I have ever seen, and his almost-black hair only makes them bluer. He’s one gorgeous man, but his nose is a little crooked. At least he has all his teeth, but…is he having a seizure?

  “Why’s he blinking so much?”

  “Harp, shut up,” she demands. But really, how is she supposed to take a picture?

  He’s trying to smile, maybe, or is he seizing up? “Is he hitting on you?”

  “Oh my God!”

  She is bright red, and I take great pride in that. She looks down, trying to gather herself, but once she sees all the pictures in her digital camera have his eyes shut, she realizes she’ll have to tell him. She curses under her breath and then clears her throat. When I look back at the guy, he’s rubbing his eyes.

  “Mr. Adler,” she says, all proper and cute. He tries to focus, but he’s still blinking funny. “I’m sorry, but I need you to stop blinking. Your eyes are closed in every picture I have taken.”

  “I’m sorry,” he says in one hell of a sexy Boston brogue, and I think I hear Elli gasp. “I got new contacts, and they are bugging the hell out of me.”

  When someone hollers about getting him a new pair, Elli stands there completely stunned. It’s actually funny to see. I almost expect her to drop to her knees to worship him. She has it bad for the guy, and to be honest, I think he thinks she’s hot. “We can do the photos without them, right?” Before Elli can even utter a word, he’s pulling his contacts out of his eyes. He throws them down on the ice, and when he looks up, it’s easy to say he can’t see. With a wide, devilish grin, he says, “I won’t be able to see your beautiful face for a little bit, but I’ll have a new pair soon. Then I can stare some more.”

  My best friend, God bless her, just stands there. Stunned in place. When she turns, her eyes are wide and her shoulders are taut. If we were at home, she’d be squealing like a sixteen-year-old, but Elli is too professional for that. Instead, she comes up beside me and gets to work. But I can feel the excitement pouring off her in waves, and I think something amazing is about to happen for her.

  I hope so, at least. She needs it.

  Elli is almost in a blur through the rest of the day. When it was time for the professional photos of the guys in suits, I took them. I flirted way more than I was supposed to with sexy Number Two, but Elli didn’t say a word. Instead, all she did was mutter that Shea Adler called her beautiful. It’s adorable and I want something to happen, but it’s Elli. She doesn’t go after guys. Hopefully Hottie McHottie will go after her.

  It was a good day, and I’m proud of us. Elli is floating on cloud nine, and I feel damn good. This was successful; it can bring more business and, hopefully, some good sex. Shea for her, and Number Two for me.

  We start to break down our equipment once we finish with the last guy. Elli is packing up the camera while I take the lights. I thought the room was empty except for her and me, but then I notice a huge body coming toward me. I slowly stand, a grin filling my face as his sexy ass approaches me. Like before, I can smell him, and desire swirls deep in my stomach. His green eyes are dangerous as they lock with mine.

  “I couldn’t leave without saying something to you,” he says as he drops a huge bag at my feet. Is he being shy? How cute!

  “Oh?” I ask, running my hands down my body and into my pockets. “What’s that?”

  He follows my hands with his eyes before meeting mine again. “That I need your number.”

  I scoff, playful and aloof. He was getting my number even if he didn’t want it. “Is that right? You want my number?”

  “I said need.”

  “Need, huh?”

  “Yes,” he says, and I can tell English is not his first language. Hell, it might not even be his second.

  “I like your accent,” I say, fluttering my lashes at him. “Where are you from?”

  “Russia.”

  I wonder if we can play a dirty version of Russian roulette. Something where I don’t know which hole he’ll enter. That excites me. “It’s sexy.”

  “You’re sexy,” he insists, and doesn’t that make me hot everywhere. The way he says it, the way he is looking at me, like I’m the only person he sees, it actually takes my breath away. I look around the room and notice Elli isn’t watching, nor is anyone else for that matter. When I glance back up at him, he’s watching me. His eyes are so intent on mine, so dark. Wow. I swallow hard and wait for a sexy retort to come to me, but he’s kinda knocked me on my ass here. “Well, I happen to think you’d be a real good time.”

  “Funny, I was thinking the exact same thing.”

  “So, I guess you do need my number.”

  “I do,” he agrees, pulling out his phone, but his eyes still haven’t left mine. “What is your name?”

  Oh yeah, I forgot to ask that. I can’t scream Number Two all night. Well, I could, but I’d rather know his name. “Harper.”

  “Harper,” he says with a lot of sexy Russian flair. I mean, I like my name, but it’s way hotter when he says it like that. “I’m Jakob. Jakob Titov.”

  I actually hear the K in his name. “Well, maybe I’ll let you see my tits-ov.”

  His eyes dance with laughter before he chuckles. “That’s funny.”

  “I’m a goofball.”

  He smiles… And wow, that’s one gorgeous smile. He has all his teeth and they’re straight; thank God for his dentist. “A sexy one.”

  “Well, yeah,” I giggle, and he smiles.

  “You’ll call me?”

  “I will.”

  “Today?”

  “Maybe when I
leave,” I say, and I love that he wants me as much as I want him.

  “I’d like that.” He moves his eyes along my face, and I swear I can feel his gaze on my mouth. “You have very thick lips.”

  “Good for kissing and other things,” I drawl, and his grin grows.

  “I’d love to feel them.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yes.”

  Now, usually I’d go right for the mouth, but something has me going for his cheek. I lift up on my toes and give him a smacking kiss on his smooth skin. He groans loudly, backing away with his hand to his chest. He has this beautifully dazed look on his face, and I laugh. “Ah yes, very thick. I want more.”

  I can’t stop laughing. “I’m not doing anything tonight.”

  “Yes, you are,” he says simply, his eyes playful. “Me.”

  Well, smack my ass and call me Sally. He leaves me speechless as he gathers his bag and heads the other way. Oh, I am going to enjoy the shit out of him tonight. When Elli comes up beside me, I’m still watching him. “He’ll call me when he gets to the car.”

  “How do you know? Did he say that?”

  He didn’t have to. He wants me. Bad. And he knows I want him. Why wait? “Nope, but he’s needy.”

  I don’t elaborate, and I don’t have to. We both know I know my men. Jakob Titov puts on a real good show of only wanting one night, but I know his kind.

  He’ll want more. They always do.

  But I’m not the one.

  You Came Quick

  Jakob

  I called Harper when I got to the car.

  She didn’t answer.

  It was the first time a woman didn’t answer my call. Usually when I ask for a number, they give it way too quickly and answer right away. Harper, though, nope. I called four more times and still no answer. I’m unsure what the hell happened between me getting the number and then walking away, but obviously, something did. I thought she was into me. I thought she wanted me like I wanted her. Maybe I got her number wrong? Damn it.