Hendrix: A Raleigh Raptor Novel

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Hendrix: A Raleigh Raptor Novel Page 18

by Whiskey, Samantha


  "Keep digging, Porter," Ethan snapped. "And I'll convince Ms. Goodman to add a few more clauses to your contract that leave you on the wrong side of the receiving end."

  "It's all right," I said, waving my hand at Ethan. He seemed impressed at me taking the reins and motioned me in a go-ahead motion. "I don't date baseball players." Maddox laughed a little at that.

  "Hockey players?" he asked, and I tilted my head at the oddness of the question. "The Reapers are almost as popular as the Hurricanes now."

  Ethan snarked out a dark laugh. "Angry that your brother's team is eating up some of your feeding grounds?"

  Maddox shook his head, a confident smirk on his lips.

  I laughed. "I'm more of a football girl," I said, but it was pretty refreshing to figure out that this guy had no idea who I was. Whose daughter I was. And for the first time since accepting my new job, I felt like I made the absolute right choice.

  I'd earned this job off my resume and my experience, and yes, a little recommendation from Weston, but I was where I was meant to be. I could feel that in the marrow of my bones. Here, I was not Coach Goodman's daughter. Here I was Savannah Goodman, contract manager for the Charleston Hurricanes.

  And despite my broken heart, that title felt pretty damn good.

  I’d just changed into my most comfortable yoga pants and tank top, the Charleston heat almost as insufferable as Raleigh heat. I was determined to get at least one box unpacked today. Diving headfirst into a full-time position had left me little time to settle in my home, but if I was being completely honest, I was having a hard time finding motivation. Outside of work, there was nothing I wanted to do but turn on a Taylor Swift record and wallow in my own misery.

  But today, I vowed to get my glasses unpacked so I could stop drinking bottled water and wasting so much plastic, despite me recycling.

  I sliced open the box, and meticulously put away my glasses one after the other, singing a terrible breakup song at the top of my lungs that did nothing to cleanse my soul of the emptiness that continued to plague it.

  I was settling into life here in Charleston, and I was more than happy to be next to my best friend London, but damn it, I still was so hurt. And lonely.

  I missed Hendrix. Not just his incredible body and what his mouth could do to mine, but his laughs, his jokes, the fights we had, and the make-ups we had. The way he could be content lying next to me watching Netflix just as much as he could be bending me over the arm of a couch.

  And just the thought of those memories coursing through my veins had me sinking to the floor and not reaching for another box.

  I sat there for the better part of an hour, listening to the music, doing my best to cleanse my soul of the negative energy that continued to hit me wave after wave with each memory I couldn't force out of my head. I was just about to reach for my take-out app when a knock at my door sounded.

  I hopped to my feet, desperately hoping it was London for a surprise visit complete with vodka sodas and a bag of greasy burgers and fries—the heartbreak starter pack. I flung open my door, prepared to cry on her shoulder for the hundredth time, but I froze in my entryway.

  Because it wasn't my best friend with junk food and liquor.

  It was Hendrix fucking Malone.

  21

  Hendrix

  “You weren’t at the office.” I blurted out the first thing that came to mind as I stared down at Savannah…who lived in Charleston just to be close to me.

  “It’s Saturday,” she said slowly. “In the off-season.”

  “You weren’t there yesterday afternoon.” I knew because I’d been there, looking for her.

  “I left at three.” Her brow furrowed. “How did you—”

  “I was there yesterday. Looking for you.” I shoved my hands into the pockets of my shorts. I loved her so fucking much, and just the thought that she really might love me, too, was almost too much to process.

  “At the Hurricanes offices?”

  I nodded. “I would have been there sooner, but it turns out Maddox Porter isn’t big on answering his fucking phone.” I’d been so frustrated I’d nearly banged on the doors to force someone to let me in. “It took hours to get ahold of him so he could get me in, and by that time, he was all too smirk-happy to tell me he’d seen plenty of you, but you were gone for the day.” That smartass little comment had almost earned him one to the jaw.

  “What?” She shook her head as a couple walked by behind me. “We aren’t having this conversation in the hallway. Come in.” She opened her door and stepped back. “You know Maddox?”

  “No, but Sterling made a call to his brother, Hudson.” My skin prickled at the thought of the playboy of the Carolina Hurricanes spending his days around Savannah. I walked into her apartment and instantly noted the lack of furniture, pictures, or anything that might identify it as hers. Well, those boxes had her name on them, but that was about it.

  “Right. I forgot Maddox’s brother played for the Reapers.” She shut the door and leaned back against it. “Why didn’t you just make an appointment? Or call me?”

  “Takes the surprise out of everything if you see my name on your schedule, doesn’t it?” I winced. “And it felt like what needed to be said was an in-person thing. But then you weren’t there, and it wasn’t like I could look up your address in the personnel files, so it took a little time to track you down.” Great, now I was babbling.

  “How did you find out where I live?” She tilted her head. “Not that I’m arguing or don’t want you here.” She glanced away.

  Holy shit, could this get any more awkward?

  “I asked Sterling to call London, and he wouldn’t, but he called Caz Foster, who then called his sister, who called me.” Right there, even more awkward. “I swear everyone knows everyone around here.”

  “That’s a lot of calling…” She swallowed. “Um. I can only really offer you a drink. I’ve only unpacked the glasses.” Her fingers toyed with the chain around her neck.

  The chain I’d given back to her a few days ago.

  “A drink sounds great.”

  She led me through the open living room and dining room and into a sparse, but modern kitchen. I leaned on the kitchen island and peered across the hallway into what I assumed was her bedroom and saw an air mattress.

  “You don’t have a bed?” I blurted. Damn it, she was sleeping on the floor?

  She laughed and pulled two glasses from the cabinet. “Now who’s making assumptions?”

  Ouch. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

  “What did you mean?” She spun suddenly and narrowed her eyes.

  My mouth opened and shut. “I was an ass at the boathouse.”

  “Yes, you were!” Hurt flashed in her eyes, and my stomach sank. “But, I also know I deserved it.” Her shoulders fell.

  I couldn’t stand the pain etched across her face, and I moved, heading around the island so I could hold her.

  “Oh no, you don’t!” She waved her finger at me and backed up, keeping the island between us. “Every time we’re close enough to touch, that’s all we do.”

  A corner of my mouth lifted. “True.” I braced my hands on the counter and stared at her across the expanse of granite. She was so beautiful. Yoga pants or mini skirt, hair down and flowing, or up in that messy bun, it didn’t matter. She was all fire and snark in public, then gentle and soft-spoken when it was just the two of us. She was everything I wanted.

  “I moved here for you,” she said, breaking the silence.

  “I know,” I replied softly, but the sound carried like an echo around the empty apartment.

  “I gave up the Raptors, told off my father, humbled myself to Weston—who let me tell you, was not my biggest fan at that moment—packed only what fit in the U-Haul behind my car, and moved to an entirely different city for you.”

  “I know,” I repeated, gripping the edge of the granite. She was right. The second we got within arm’s reach, there would be no more speaking. Our chemistry wor
ked both for and against us that way. “I didn’t know it at the boathouse, but I do now.”

  “I broke up with you so you wouldn’t lose your contract—”

  “I don’t give a shit about my contract!”

  “Your sister—”

  “I have enough set aside in trust funds. When you grow up poor, you learn to save for a rainy day. Trust me, I’ve been responsible with my money. Do I love my career? Yes. Do I love the game? Yes. But I love you more!” My jaw ticked as I struggled to reign in my emotions. “I love you more, Savannah, and you didn’t even let me fight for you. You and your dad locked me out of his office and discussed our relationship without me. Then you came out and…” My words failed at the memory of the way she’d crushed my soul between her fingers like I was nothing more than a gnat.

  “I know,” she whispered as if the memory haunted her, too. “I wanted to protect you.”

  “Protect me? I knew the risks of being with you. I knew the consequences, and I wanted you anyway. I didn’t need your protection, Savannah, I needed you.” My throat tightened.

  She sucked in a breath. “Needed…as in past tense?” Her voice trembled on those last two words.

  “Savannah, I—”

  “No, no, no.” She came around the island, and I didn’t have the willpower to move, especially when she ducked under my arm so she stood between them against the island. Her hands cradled my face, and it wasn’t pain, I saw in her eyes—it was fear. “I love you, Hendrix. You didn’t believe me in the boathouse, and I know why. I get it, but I need you to know that now. I love you, and I know I didn’t say it when you needed to hear it, when you were brave enough to say it first, but I do. I love you. Please tell me I didn’t blow my chance—”

  I stopped her words with my mouth, kissing her gently, keeping my tongue behind my teeth and letting my lips rest against hers for a heartbeat, then two.

  “I didn’t come here for you to apologize.” I leaned my forehead against hers and kept my hands firmly on the counter.

  “Why did you come here?” There it was, that little spark of hope that reflected in the gold flecks in her eyes.

  “Because I’m in love with you, Savannah. I’m pretty sure you could have crushed my heart, danced on it, hooked up with fourteen other guys, trashed me on national television, and I’d still love you. I can’t stop. Trust, me, I tried.”

  She blinked. “I would never trash you on national television.”

  “But the guys are a possibility?” A corner of my mouth lifted because I knew there was no way. I didn’t need London to confirm, or even Savannah. There hadn’t been anyone else for her just the same as there hadn’t been for me.

  “Well, I mean…” She gave me a look of mock innocence and batted her lashes.

  “There hasn’t been anyone for you since me,” I said with full confidence. “And even if there had, I’d still love you.”

  “How are you so certain?” She cocked a brow at me in a clear challenge.

  “About the love? You did your worst, and I’m still here at your door, activating the Charleston professional sports family calling tree to get to you.” I leaned forward slightly, using my hips to pin her to the island.

  Her breath caught.

  Fuck, we were still electric.

  “And how are you so certain about the guys?” Her hands drifted to my neck.

  “I made you a promise once.” My voice dropped as I held her gaze. “I told you I’d ruin you for every man you even thought about touching after me, and I followed through. Does it suck that the best of your life was your first? Maybe. But you’re not the kind of woman who needs a comparison. You’ve always been smart enough to know what you have.”

  “And do I?” She swiped her tongue over her lower lip, and I bit back a groan. “Do I have you? You’ve never been the man to wait around on a woman to pull her head out of her ass.”

  “You tell me.” I grinned and lifted her to the counter so our eyes were level. “Am I still playing the field? Was I out every night chasing the first woman who caught my eye?”

  “No.” She shook her head as her fingernails lightly scraped the back of my head. “Because I ruined you, too, didn’t I?” She failed to contain a smile. “Does it suck that the best of your life was also your last? Maybe. But you’re not the kind of guy who needs another comparison.” She threw my words back at me playfully.

  “There hasn’t been anyone else,” I confirmed, my voice coming out rougher than I thought possible. “There never will be. You’re it.” I shrugged.

  “That’s it?” she teased with a devilish glint in her eyes. “That’s all you’ve got?”

  “Challenge accepted.” I splayed my hands over her hips and tugged her to the edge of the counter, splitting her knees so I stood between her thighs. Then I stripped her shirt off, leaving her in a black bra that I wanted to rip away with my teeth. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

  “It’s only fair.” She tugged at my shirt, and I helped her get it off. It landed somewhere next to hers.

  “You’ve never been one for grand gestures, Savannah.” I kissed her jaw, then worked my way down her neck when her head rolled back. “You’ve always preferred the private to the public. I thought about the jumbotron, or some huge spectacle at tomorrow’s game, but that wouldn’t win you over.”

  She gasped as I sucked at the patch of skin where her shoulder met her neck. “And…what would?”

  “Complete and total transparency. Honesty.” I flicked open the clasp of her bra, and slipped it off her arms, then dropped it on the hardwood.

  “Go on?”

  “I propose we amend our original deal.” I cupped her breasts and stroked my thumbs over her nipples, then pressed my dick against the cabinetry when she moaned. Fuck, I needed her. I’d have her, too, but not until this was settled.

  “How so?” Her hands trailed down my chest, then traced the line of my abs. I tensed and grabbed onto my willpower for all it was worth.

  “First rule was that I make the rules.” I gave her a cocky grin. “I actually like that one.”

  “It goes.” She raised a single brow and flicked open the button of my shorts.

  “Fine, we both make the rules—” I hissed when she reached beneath my waistband and wrapped her fingers around my cock. “Savannah. Butterfly, you have to give me a second.”

  “We both make the rules,” she teased, squeezing me just the way I liked.

  “Fuck. Agreed.” I lowered my head to her breasts and sucked one of her nipples into my mouth.

  “Hendrix!”

  Now that was a sound I liked echoing off the walls. I licked and teased the tips of her breasts until her breaths came in quick pants and her hands gripped my biceps.

  “Rule two is out. Everyone in the whole world will know you’re mine, and I’m yours, and that’s the way it is. No exceptions,” I growled as I hooked my thumbs into the waist of her yoga pants.

  “I’m good with that.” She arched her hips, and I peeled the fabric off her long, luscious legs. “As long as you strike rule number three officially because this is going to happen more than once today, alone.” Her voice was all breathy, and it made my cock twitch.

  Or maybe it was the sight of that black thong nestled right where I wanted my tongue.

  “Agreed.” I kicked out of my shoes. “Rule number four?”

  “Which one was that again?” She shoved my shorts and my boxer briefs down my hips, and I let them fall to the floor. “You have so many rules. It’s hard to remember.” She glanced down between us, then licked her lips. “But I definitely remember that.”

  She reached for me, and I captured her wrists. “We’re not done here yet. You touch me again, and I’ll fuck you across the kitchen and into next week.”

  “Promises, promises.” She leaned forward and nipped at my lower lip.

  “Rule four was we agree on the date.” I released her hands and sent mine between her thighs. “You’re so damned wet I can feel you through the
fabric.”

  “I’m always wet for you.” She kissed my neck.

  “God, Savannah.” I wasn’t going to make it. All the words I’d planned out were going to go to waste because I couldn’t fight my need when it came to her…but I could fight my need for her. I saw a pair of scissors next to the empty moving box at the end of the island and took them in my hand. Then I snipped the strings holding her panties together.

  “Hendrix!” Her mouth dropped as I cleared the fabric away, leaving her completely, utterly naked.

  “I’ll buy you a thousand new pairs so I can do the same to them,” I promised with a growl, dropping the scissors into the box and attacking her neck with my mouth.

  “Fuck rule four. I say instead of picking a date, it’s every day. I’ve missed your mouth, Hendrix. Your eyes, your laugh, your hands. I’ve missed everything about you.” She gasped as I slid two fingers inside her without warning.

  “Every day,” I agreed, stroking her pussy with long, slow thrusts, curling my fingers to get her right where she needed it.

  “I need you,” she whimpered, grasping my waist to pull me closer.

  “Not until we hammer out rule number five,” I argued and strummed my thumb across her clit.

  “Shit!” Her hips bucked against my hand, chasing the high she knew I’d give her.

  It took everything I had, but I removed my hand and stepped out of her embrace, backing away until I felt the other counter at my back.

  “Hendrix!”

  “Rule number five,” I said slowly, ignoring that my cock had its own pulse at this point. “Was that our hearts don’t get involved.”

  “I remember,” she said softly.

  “I want our hearts very involved. Rule number five should be that our hearts are as tangled and fused as possible, Savannah, because I don’t want a night, or a month, or a season, I want a lifetime with you.” I swallowed. “This is as honest…and as naked as I can be about it.”

  She smiled, and my heart took off at a gallop.

  “I know we’re not at the proposal stage. Hell, I’m just trying to get you to the openly dating stage here, but that’s where this is headed. Forever. You and me.”

 

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