Chapter 64

The good ole hockey game is the best game you can name

The best game you can name is the good ole hockey game

"You realize that I am not going to come to your defense when people start razzing you, right?"

Adjusting her sweater Robin turned and glared at her boyfriend as he sat on the bed, a satisfied smirk gracing his face. "It's not my fault if idiot Ranger fans can't grasp the brilliance of Martin Brodeur" she shot back as she rolled up the sleeves of her New Jersey Devils sweater.

"Idiot Ranger fans?" he queried. "Robin I know you're ferocious and all but this is New York and people take this kind of stuff very seriously."

"I can handle myself" she told him confidently with a smile. "And I can handle you" she added teasingly.

"Oh I know" he replied with a grin. "I'm still recovering from your handling."

They had arrived in the city the day before and after checking in to their hotel had set about exploring the city. Patrick found comfort in the familiar sounds and smells of his city. While the Botox was working wonders on his tremor it was doing little to help his shortened temper. He found himself on the verge of a full meltdown on a far too regular basis. It took all of his self control not to give into it - at least not while Robin was around. But once he was home, walking the streets that he knew so well, he felt much of the tension leave his body.

They had walked through Central Park and Patrick told her of the late night hockey games he and his friends had played on the rink as a way to burn off some of the stress from school. They had wandered to his favourite restaurant in the Village for dinner. It was a hole in the wall Italian place that would never be found in any Zagat's guide but for Patrick it housed a bucketload of memories. He had been surprised when Victor, the owner, remembered him and greeted him with a bear hug before ushering them to his 'best' table. They were treated like royalty with samples of various dishes appearing from the kitchen and wine flowing freely. Robin had laughed loudly and freely as Victor regaled her with tales of Patrick's dates and the rating system the staff had developed to determine if the girl was going to last at all. In a loud stage whisper he told her that none of his dates ever came back a second time but hoped that she would.

As they had left the restaurant large, fluffy flakes fell delicately from the sky and overcome by the magic of the moment, Patrick had gathered his girlfriend in his arms, pushed her up against a lamp post and kissed her senseless. Everything about his home felt bigger because he could share it with her. It had been an interesting taxi ride back to the hotel as they had been barely able to keep their hands to themselves, stopping only when the driver cleared his throat -for the second time. Barely out of the taxi, he had scooped her up in his arms, carried her into the hotel and to their room where they had made love long into the night. It had been one of the most romantic nights of his life.

"Yes well," Robin interrupted his thoughts, "I promise to handle you again tonight after my team kills yours."

"You know I'm kind of insulted and turned on all at once."

"That's the plan" she told him with a grin. "Ready to go?"

Grabbing his Rangers sweater from the bed, he slipped it over his head, deliberately smoothing down the logo before holding out his hand to her. "Come on Tiger - let's introduce you to New York sports fans."

Robin let out a low whistle as they were escorted into their box for the game. Two leather stools were placed at the small bar overlooking the ice surface. A bottle of champagne was chilling on ice and a small buffet of snack foods could be found on the table and the bar. There was a flat screen monitor hanging in the corner to ensure they didn't miss a minute of the action.

"Wow." Turning around, she grinned at her boyfriend. "This really is the highlife."

He waggled his eyebrows in response. "You like?"

"What's not to like? I have an unobstructed view of the ice, all the better to watch my boy stone your boys..."

Walking to her, he encircled her waist and pulled her flush to him, nipping at her lips. "Do you have any idea how hot you make me when you talk jock?"

Lightly shimmying her hips against his, she smiled knowingly. "I think I may have some idea."

"Evil" he gritted good naturedly.

"And you love it. So is it really just the two of us in here for the whole game?"

"It is."

"How did you score that?" she asked as she continued to look around the suite. She picked up the Go Rangers before dropping it back down on the table.

Having retreived a beer from the fridge, he silently cursed his weakened grip as he tried to twist the cap off. After the third try he finally managed to free the bottle of its top. Leaning against the stool, he smiled as he watched her work her way around the suite, not wanting to miss a moment. There was a child-like wonderment to her examination and the expression on her face was one he knew well; he often saw it when she was working. What made Robin such a great researcher was her delight in discovery. For her what she learned along the way was as important as solving the problem - it was a quality he admired in her and wish he had more of himself.

"I know people" he replied smugly.

Stopping where she was at the far end of the suite, she slowly turned to look at him. The sight of him, his jeans slung low on his hips, his brown hair deliberately messy and his rich, brown eyes shining brightly caused a quiver inside of her. As much as she used to ride him for his arrogance and confidence she also liked it. His belief in himself, his confidence in what he knew to be true was incredibly attractive and channeled the right way could make her weak in the knees.

Her eyebrow arched in a challenge. "You know people?"

He took a long drink of his beer and nodded. "I know people."

"You're kind of making me hot right now - do you think they would kick us out if we got naked?" She strolled sultrily towards him, smiling as he licked his lips. Positioning herself between his legs, she slid her hands underneath his sweater, sweeping them across his chest.

Sucking in a breath and swallowing thickly, he set his beer down on the bar. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure they would kick us out."

"But not positive?" Her fingers curled around his beltbuckle.

"N-no - not positive" he stammered.

"Interesting" she teased, her fingers brushing lightly across his zipper.

His hand clamped down on hers. "Robin" he whined. "You have to stop."

"I thought you liked me bold."

"I do" he nodded vigorously, "but I wanna see the game and if you keep doing that we're going to wind up in Rangers jail."

Snickering, she let go of his belt. "Rangers jail?"

"Down in the bowels of the building, there's a holding pen that they put you in until the NYPD come."

"Dare I ask how you know this?"

"No."

His fingers curled through her belt loops and dipping his head, he closed his lips over hers and slid his tongue inside her velvety soft mouth. He swallowed down her moan as their tongues tangled with each other. She linked her hands around his neck and deepened the kiss. As his hands trailed along her sides she could not help but think how nice it was to feel his hands steady once again.

Breathless, they reluctantly pulled away and simply stared at each other. Patrick tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as the player introductions echoed over the public address system. Nibbling on her bottom lip, he smiled against her mouth.

"Game on" he whispered.

Robin growled as the second period came to an end. Her team was down three goals and her boyfriend was using every opportunity he could to remind her of that fact. This was definitely not an occasion where he was channeling his arrogance in the right way. She watched as Patrick slid from his stool and walked to the champagne bucket. Pulling the bottle from the ice, he wrapped a towel around the cork and slowly eased it from the bottle's neck. As he filled two flutes with the blonde bubbly liquid, she decided that she needed to extract a little revenge.

As he sat back down, placing a champagne flute in front of her, Robin rose from her seat and sat on his lap. She leaned back against him and sighed as he closed his arms around her and gently nuzzled her neck. It was something she rarely admitted but she was needy about being touched. There were so many times in her life when people had been afraid to touch her, afraid to drink from a water fountain after her, afraid to kiss her, that having finally found someone who was happy to touch her only made her crave it more. Though she had never told Patrick about what it meant to her, how it could make her feel whole when he would take her in his arms she was sure he knew. He was never shy about holding her hand in public, kissing her, hugging her, sharing his personal space with her.

That being said, she still needed to bring him down a peg or two. As she sat comfortably in his lap she began to gyrate her hips against his, at first lightly and then more insistently.

"Rooobin" he groaned as the friction increased. "What are you doing?"

Looking at him over her shoulder, she grinned. "Back checking. How is your...stick control?"

"Oh god" he moaned. "You are trying to kill me."

"No" she replied innocently, "I am not trying to kill you - I'm just trying to keep up with the game."

Her hips continued to move against him as she dragged her hands the length of his lean thighs.

"Are you trying to score?" he asked, his lips whispering just below her ear.

A small shiver ran through her body. "M-maybe" she mumbled.

"I see." His hands slipped underneath her sweater and with agonizing slowness worked their way to her breasts. As he closed his hands around them, tugging gently at her nipples, he leaned forward. "Don't you know that the key to scoring is puck possession?"

"I...I...I could get puck possession" she protested, her eyes fluttering shut as he kneaded her breasts and he nipped at her neck.

"Nah" he told her quietly. "You can't have puck possession when you're back checking - you're being defensive then, not offensive." His fingertips trailed lightly down her torso, toying with the waistband of her jeans. "When you're on the forecheck, you're in charge and you get a good view of the net."

"I call a penalty" she told him breathlessly as she felt his fingers flick open the top button of her jeans.

"Oh?" he queried before closing his lips around her ear lobe and suckling on soft skin.

"Y-yeah" she panted, "goaltender interference."

Her hips had stopped moving against him as she could do little but respond to his ministrations in exactly the way he wanted her to. "There's no interference" he said, "I'm not near the net...yet."

Robin gasped as his hand slipped inside her pants and underwear, cupping her sex. "Shit" she hissed.

"Mmmm" he moaned against her neck. "I think I have a shot on net." His fingers tickled along her hot centre.

"Are you going to take it or are you going to whiff...aaaaahhhhh" she moaned, biting down on her lip to keep from crying out as he curled a finger inside her. "P-patrick"

He slipped a second finger inside her and began to pump his hand slowly, rhythmically. Robin's hips moved in unison with his hand, greedily begging him to go deeper, faster. He ignored her silent request and continued to move his hand at a steady pace while leaving a trail of kisses along her neck and shoulder. Oblivious to any of the people who may be watching them, Robin tossed her head back against his shoulder exposing more of her neck to his lips. He strummed his thumb along her clit, smiling as her hips jerked suddenly from the new sensation.

"Your defence is terrible" he whispered, "it's just letting me take shot after shot."

"But are you going to...oh god" she inhaled as he slowly increased his pace and pressure, "are you going to score?"

"Patience" he told her, enjoying her reactions, "I have to wait for the perfect shot." He continued to work her fingers inside her. She clenched her eyes shut as the first wave of her orgasm hit her. She started to shudder and shake. "Come for me Robin" he whispered. She shook her head as her climax built to a crescendo. With one more thrust of his hand, she came apart as she swallowed down her cry.

He whispered soft kisses against her neck as he carefully removed his hand, quickly doing up her jeans. "He shoots, he scores" he teased quietly.

"I hate you" she joked as she recovered her breath.

"Oh and one more thing."

"Yeah?" she queried as she turned to face him, tasting his lips.

His face split into a wide grin and his eyes danced mischeviously. "Rangers win"