Shoot Out (The Baltimore Banners Book 7)

SHOOT OUT

Copyright © 2016 by Elizabeth Belbot Kamps

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the express written permission of the author.

The Baltimore Banners™ is a fictional professional ice hockey team, its name and logo created for the sole use of the author and covered under protection of trademark.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation to anyone bearing the same name or names, living or dead. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any individual, place, business, or event is purely coincidental.

 

Artwork by Jay Aheer of Simply Defined Art

http://www.jayscoversbydesign.com/

Dedication:

For Christine Tovey and Logan Hernandez. Thanks so much for the continuing words of encouragement, feedback, and unending support. Your words mean so much more than you realize!

Other titles by this author:

 

THE BALTIMORE BANNERS

Crossing the Line
, Book 1

Game Over
, Book 2

Blue Ribbon Summer
, Book 3

Body Check
, Book 4

Break Away
, Book 5

Playmaker,
A Baltimore Banners Intermission Nove
lla

Seduced By The Game
Cancer Charity Collection

Delay of Game
, Book 6

Shoot Out, Book 7

The Baltimore Banners: 1st Period Trilogy

Books 1-3 Boxed set

On Thin Ice, Book 8

Coming Soon

 

FIREHOUSE FOURTEEN

Once Burned
, Book 1

Playing With Fire
, Book 2

Breaking Protocol
, Book 3

 

STAND-ALONE TITLES

Emeralds and Gold: A Treasury of Irish Short Stories
(anthology)

Finding Dr. Right

Time To Heal

Chapter One

 

"You have the most gorgeous eyes."

Mat Herron tried to smile but wasn't sure if his mouth actually moved or not. Hell, he wasn't sure of anything right now, not with the numbing effects of the alcohol he'd been drinking. All he knew was that he should leave. If he had any sense at all, he would leave. This was a bad idea, this entire night. He should have known better, should have never listened to his teammates, should have never even come on this trip.

Yeah, he could tell himself that all he wanted but it would be a lie. Wasn't he the one who said he was turning over a new leaf? Taking a break from everyone else's drama and living his own life? No more Saint Mat—and damn Derek Caulton for even starting that damn nickname. Besides, skipping out on the trip wasn't an option. Although why in the hell his teammate, Jean-Pierre Larocque, thought it would be a good idea to have a pre-wedding getaway in New Orleans, in early June, was anyone's guess. Probably because his fiancée, Emily, wanted to see New Orleans. And JP would do anything for Emily.

So here he was, in some crowded bar on Bourbon Street drinking a too-sweet and too-potent bright green drink even though he should have stopped drinking two hours ago. No, more than two hours ago. This drink was his third. Fifth. Maybe. Hell, he didn't know, he'd lost track hours ago. All he knew was that the woman grinning up at him, complimenting his eyes, was a friend of Derek's girlfriend, Bridget. He couldn't remember her name, wasn't even sure if he knew it. At this point in time, he was lucky if he could keep his teammates' names straight, let alone their girlfriends' names.

Was the girl staring up at him in the wedding party? Maybe. No, she couldn't be. Wrong couple. She was a friend of Bridget's, not JP and Emily.

Although it didn't matter if she was or if she wasn’t. She was a friend of Bridget's so she was off-limits. Mat wasn't sure why that mattered but it did. No nameless faceless sex with someone he'd meet again. That was the deal. It didn't matter that he just now made the deal with himself, didn't matter that nobody else would know about it. If he was going to turn over a new leaf and get rid of that stupid, ill-deserved reputation and asinine nickname, then he was going to do it all the way.

With a complete stranger.

Except now the girl was resting her hand on his arm, still grinning up at him. Somebody jostled her from behind, pushing her even closer. Mat didn't think, just brought his arm around her waist to keep her from stumbling and frowned at the guy staggering past him.

"Dude, watch it already, will you?"

The guy kept going, not even bothering to look their way. Probably for the best. Hell, the guy probably didn't even realize he'd bumped into them, not with it being so crowded. Mat frowned again as the guy disappeared into the pushing throng of people, then looked down at the girl in front of him.

Shit. He still had his arm around her. Her eyes widened when he met her gaze, like she was just as surprised as he was. Or maybe he was just reading too much into her expression. Slightly parted full lips. Head tilted back and to the side. Deep amber eyes that looked a little dazed. From the alcohol? Or something else?

He really should move his arm. But she felt nice against him. Soft curves with a hard body, warm and flush. Yeah, he really should move his arm, let her step back. But she didn't try to move away, just kept looking at him with a hint of smile on her oval face. She tilted her head back a little then reached up with one hand and brushed a few strands of hair out of her face, pushing them to the back where a clip of some kind held most of her hair in place. Her hair was almost the same color as her eyes. A lighter brown, with amber and dark gold mixed in along with a few streaks of bright pink throughout.

Yeah, he was definitely just a bit more than buzzed if he was noticing the different shades of a color in a girl's hair, even if the bright pink was really noticeable. And he really should move his arm.

He leaned down instead, just enough so his mouth was closer to her ear so he wouldn't have to shout. She smelled nice. Light and fresh, not quite flowery. Definitely better than the stronger smells of Bourbon Street that hung over everything, permeating skin and clothes, especially in the June heat.

"What's your name?"

"Nicole."

Even her voice was light and fresh. Yeah, he was definitely a little buzzed. He should just finish the drink and go back to the hotel. Better yet, he should put the rest of the drink down. Just put the tall plastic tube that passed for a glass on the bar and turn around and leave. But Nicole was still looking up at him, those luscious lips curled in a small smile as she watched him, the palm of her hand flat against his chest. And hell, when had she placed her hand there? Just above the point where his shirt opened, so her fingers were resting against his bare skin. Warm. Teasing. Too damn tempting.

Mat swallowed, told himself to step back, to move his arm and put some distance between them. But Nicole leaned even closer, her breath warm against his skin when she spoke.

"Did you want to leave?"

And shit, just like that, all his good intentions flew out the door. His mind was telling him to say no but the rest of his body—from the goofy-ass smile on his face to the raging hard-on that sprung to life in his pants—was cheering at the idea. And why the hell not? Isn't this what he wanted to do? Change his image, have some fun, do what he wanted? Get rid of that damned reputation for once and for all. No, Nicole wasn't exactly a stranger, someone he wouldn't see again. But it's not like he'd be running into her all the time. Hell, he really might not see her again even if she was a friend of Bridget's.

So why the hell not?

Nicole was still looking up at him, her hand still resting up high on his chest, the tips of her fingers lightly caressing his skin, so damn tempting. Mat finally nodded, his heart thumping at the answering smile that crossed Nicole's face. He looked around, his gaze finally dropping to the unfinished drink in his hand. He lifted the tall tube to his mouth and drained the sweet liquid in several long swallows, then took a half-step toward the bar and placed the empty container on the varnished counter. He smiled down at Nicole and grabbed her hand, wrapping his fingers around her slender ones, then pushed his way through the crowd, clearing space for Nicole to follow. They were a few feet away from the door when a hand clamped onto his elbow, stopping him. Mat turned, not exactly surprised to see Derek frowning at him. Derek's gaze slid over to Nicole, down to their clasped hands, then back to Mat.

"Where are you going?"

"Someplace quieter." Mat tugged his arm from Derek's hold and tried to take another step but he wasn't fast enough. Derek grabbed him again and leaned even closer, his voice a harsh whisper when he spoke.

"Mat, I don’t think that's a good idea—"

"I didn’t ask for your opinion."

"Mat, seriously, I don't think—"

"Don’t care." He pulled his arm free again and stepped away, Nicole close behind him. Two more steps and he was outside, leading Nicole through the crowds that lined the crooked and sloping brick sidewalk. Mat felt a tug on his hand, felt himself being pulled off the sidewalk and into the street. He started to pull back then relaxed at the last minute, his hazy brain finally remembering that it was okay to walk in the street, that everyone did it.

"Your name is Mat, right?"

"Hm?" Mat stopped when she did, blinking when she stepped closer and placed her hand high on his chest again. He grinned and nodded. "Yeah. Mat. That's me."

She smiled and stepped even closer, rising up on her toes. And then her arms were around his neck and her mouth was on his. Heat, fire, desire. Instant, consuming. Mat wrapped his arms around her slender waist and pulled her even closer. His mouth opened under hers and their tongues met, thrusting, teasing, tasting.

Yells and whistles echoed around them, louder than the other noises filling the humid air. Mat groaned and pulled away, looking around with dazed eyes as reality seeped into him.

He was standing in the middle of the street, in New Orleans, with his tongue down some stranger's throat. He should be embarrassed. Mortified. He should tell her goodnight and go back to his room and catch the first flight home tomorrow.

That's what he should do. But tonight, he didn't give a fuck.

Instead, he pulled Nicole tighter against him, cupped the side of her face and tilted her head back. Her eyes widened the slightest bit just before his mouth claimed hers. Strong, possessive. Demanding. He swallowed a groan—his, hers, maybe both—and swept his tongue inside. She tasted sweet. Addictive. Sinfully delicious.

He couldn't get enough.

No, his mind corrected. He couldn't get enough
here
. Not in the middle of the street, not with an audience cheering them on. He pulled away with a grin and grabbed Nicole's hand, squeezing her fingers as he tugged. The hotel where they were staying was one block up, right on Bourbon Street, complete with balconies that overlooked the nightly revelry unfolding on the street. The last two nights, Mat had been content with being an onlooker, sitting on the balcony and just watching.

Not tonight. No, tonight was going to be different.

Nicole stumbled, her body falling sideways against him as they stepped back onto the sidewalk. A twinge jerked at Mat's conscience and he paused, looking down at her.

"Are you okay? You're not drunk, are you?"

"Me?" Nicole laughed, the sound almost musical against the backdrop of all the other noise. She shook her head then pointed down at her feet. "No, I'm not drunk. It's the shoes."

The shoes were open-toed sandals with a platform heel at least four inches high. Mat's gaze dropped to the bright green nails peeking out from the open canvas weave of the sandal when Nicole raised one long shapely leg, holding it out in front of her with a balance that surprised him. His gaze drifted from the bright nails up along that lean tanned leg then stopped at the hem of her short skirt. Heat spread across his face and he hoped to hell he wasn't blushing.

"What about you?"

Mat pulled his gaze away from the hem of her skirt, from the tanned flesh of her upper thigh, and tried to stop thinking about tan lines—or the lack of them. He cleared his throat and swallowed, his face burning even more. "Me what?"

"Are you drunk?"

"Not really, no."

Nicole raised one well-shaped eyebrow in his direction, her full mouth tilting up in a small smile. "Not really?"

Mat thought for a second, then grinned and shook his head. "Nope. Just feeling good."

Nicole's smile widened and she tugged on his hand, pulling him toward the steps of the hotel. "Let's see if we can make good feel even better."

Now it was Mat's turn to stumble, thanks to the rock hard erection in his shorts. He reached down and adjusted himself, hoping the movement was inconspicuous. But Nicole's gaze followed the movement of his hand and her smile grew even wider as she led him through the doors and across the courtyard lobby to the elevators.

They finally reached his room, the air humming between them. Electrified, thrumming with anticipation. Mat dug the cardkey from his front pocket and jammed it into the card reader, surprised to notice that his hand was shaking just the slightest bit. He had just enough time to hang the Do Not Disturb sign on the outside door handle before Nicole was in his arms, her body pressed against him, her mouth warm and willing under his.

Holy shit, she was liquid fire in his arms. Hot, supple, coming alive under his touch. He dropped his hands to her ass, cupping the firm flesh as he rocked his hips against hers. She moaned, the sound lost in their harsh breathing.

And holy fuck, was he really going to do this?

Nicole dragged one hand between them, stroking the length of his erection under the thin cotton of his shorts.

Fuck yes, he was really going to do this.

He pulled her more tightly against him, only briefly surprised when she jumped and wrapped her legs around his waist. He adjusted his hold and stepped forward, carrying her through the small sitting room of the suite to the open door of his bedroom.

He paused, wondering about the sign on the doorknob, wondering if he really needed it since he had his own room. Wondering if Kenny would pay attention to it, worrying about where Kenny would sleep.

Fuck Kenny. He could figure it out on his own. It wasn't Mat's job to take care of his teammates. Not now, not anymore. Not ever.

Mat nudged the door closed with his foot and kept walking, not stopping until he reached the bed. Even then he didn't stop, just leaned forward until Nicole's back rested against the mattress. He broke the kiss and pushed up with his hands, kneeling between her legs. Light from the ongoing party on the street drove the shadows from the room, bathing Nicole in a soft rainbow of colors. She smiled then pushed herself to a sitting position before reaching behind her and undoing the clip at the base of her neck. She shook her head and thick strands of soft hair fell around her shoulders, long and luxurious, glowing in the odd light that filled the room. Mat's mouth went dry when she reached down and grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head and tossing it to the side in one graceful move. Mat swallowed, his gaze resting on the generous swell of her bare breasts, on the dark nipples that hardened under his stare.

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