Goaltending: Seattle Sockeyes Hockey (Game On in Seattle Book 8)

by Jami Davenport

  “Now I’m ready.”

  “Yes. You. Are.” Her eyes bugged at the size of him. Her ex had been big, but Brick, well, brick was bigger. He was going to feel freaking good inside her.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can last through foreplay. I’ll make it up to you.”

  “No need. I’m ready.”

  He slid his hands between her spread legs and dipped a finger between her wet folds. His finger slid easily inside. “You are ready. You’re really wet for me.”

  “I’m always wet for you,” she admitted, and immediately regretted it.

  A slow, wicked smile slid across his face. “Are you now? If only I’d known this a few weeks ago.”

  He lowered his head and sucked her nipple. She whimpered and pressed against him. Brick pushed inside her, going slow, even though it took a superhuman effort not to thrust all the way in one stroke. Her body accepted him, adjusting to his girth and reveling in how full he made her feel.

  He slid in, retreated, slid again, retreated, deeper each time, deeper into her body and deeper into her heart, but she was powerless to stop what was happening.

  She didn’t care what damage might be done. She only cared about him, how he felt inside her, above her, surrounding her. His chest hairs rubbed against her nipples. His mouth sought hers. His tongue danced with hers, explored, conquered, and enslaved.

  He was deep now. Embedded and cradled within her. She angled her hips, and he touched spots no man had ever touched. And she loved it. Loved the feel of him. Loved how he’d shown her his vulnerable side earlier.

  Amelia matched him thrust for thrust, intensity for intensity, and need for need. She gripped his ass, burying her fingernails in the taut muscles. He pumped harder, faster, stronger, and she went with him, not just along for the ride, but as the ride. Participating fully and loving every moment. He was about to come, and he wasn’t coming without her.

  As if reading her mind, he reached between them and found her clit, pressing it as he drove home one final time. His body shuddered his release as stars exploded in her head, and her body ignited and launched itself beyond earth’s gravity.

  They held each other, sweat-soaked skin sliding across skin. His breathing was as harsh as hers. His heart pounded the same erratic beat. He held himself above her with the sheer strength of his muscular arms until he collapsed and rolled to one side, pulling her on top of him.

  They lay still for a long time, listening to the combined beat of their hearts. His body was like a furnace, heating everything within feet of him, especially her.

  Finally, he stood and pulled her along with him. Out onto the master bedroom deck.

  “People can see us.”

  “So what?”

  He had a point.

  So what? She didn’t care. Or did she? For Macy’s sake, she didn’t want them on the gossip blogs. She needn’t worry. The master deck was somewhat recessed and private. A person would have to try pretty hard to see them. Still, she wasn’t entirely comfortable sitting naked next to him. Pulling away from him, she stepped back into the room and grabbed the first piece of clothing she found—his T-shirt. She pulled it on over her head, breathing in Brick’s scent. It fell to her knees and covered all the important parts she’d left uncovered while he was plundering her body earlier.

  Brick sank into a plush garden chair, and Amelia took the one opposite. They sat in comfortable silence, cooling down and waiting for their heart rates to return to normal. Amelia forced her gaze away from the muscular man sitting next to her and out to Lake Union. The lake was relatively quiet at this time of night. Lights from the waterfront houses and houseboats cast flickering rays of gold across the ripples on the water. She almost smiled at the thought of Brick living in one of those houseboats. She couldn’t see it at first, but now she could. Brick didn’t conform. He didn’t fit in a cookie-cutter condo no matter how elegant. He belonged in the unique and different.

  “You’re hot,” he said, startling her out of her musings. She jumped slightly, and he chuckled, a deep, sexy sound, which warmed up her lady parts once again.

  “We worked up quite a sweat,” she managed to croak.

  “I mean the other kind of hot. You’re one beautiful woman.”

  Amelia shrugged. She’d been told she was beautiful all her life. Being beautiful meant little to her. She should be grateful for the gifts she’d been graced with, but at times she’d rather be plain and average. All those child beauty pageants had turned her appearance into a commodity. If she didn’t win the Ultimate Supreme whatever-whatever, she’d failed. She had to be the prettiest girl there, the most talented, and the most charming. Now she didn’t give a shit. She’d rather fade into the woodwork. Only she wasn’t a woodwork type of person any more than Brick was.

  He must have read the expression her face. “That’s a compliment.”

  “I know,” she said wearily. “I get tired of it.”

  “Tired of guys telling you that you’re beautiful?” He sounded astonished.

  “Yeah. They never look beyond my face.”

  “And your body.” He winked at her.

  “You’re such a dick.”

  “I’m a brick, not a dick.” He grinned broadly, and she had to laugh.

  “By the way, what is it with you and heat anyway?”

  He stared out at the lake, sobering quickly. “When my mom and dad divorced and he remarried, Mom had custody of my sister, and Dad had me. I wanted to go with Dad because we were buddies. At least, we had been. My stepmother’s son had been my best friend, but all that went to shit. She pitted us against each other constantly, and he always came out on top. He could do no wrong, and I could do no right. We played on the same hockey team. Dad helped coach, and he’d been my biggest supporter. But then he wasn’t. All his attention was focused on his stepson. My stepmother kept the house really warm, oppressively so. I hated going home to that place and her constant nagging. I grew to hate the heat. After a year, I got the hell out of there and moved in with my mom and sister in a cabin in the woods. The place was drafty and cold, but I preferred it over that smothering heat.”

  “I see. So you correlate heat with everything unpleasant in your life?”

  “Pretty much.” He raised his head; his dark eyes searched her face. “I’m sorry I backed out on you and Macy.”

  “Tell Macy that.”

  “I will.” He turned to face Amelia. Despite the shadows, she saw something reflected in his gaze. “She can skate, can’t she? Got that from her daddy.”

  Amelia cocked a brow. This was the first time Brick had referred to himself as her daddy. “Her mother was a figure skater.”

  “Yeah, but that kid’s aggressive, like a hockey player, not a figure skater. Did you see her go after the puck against boys twice her size?”

  “Yes, I did.” Her heart warmed at the pride in his voice. She had a hard time staying mad at this man, as she had with Darrell. She’d forgiven him just about anything, except having another wife and children. That she couldn’t forgive. Amelia blinked back tears at what she’d lost, including the child she’d never have. Her one chance. Gone.

  “She’s a chip off the old brick.”

  Amelia snorted. “You’re goofy.”

  “And proud of it.”

  “I’m glad to see you warming up to the idea of being a father.”

  His smile turned to stone, as if she’d doused his good mood with cold water. “I still think she deserves better.”

  “We could work on that.”

  He smirked at her. “We? You wanna play house with me, baby?”

  She opened her mouth to argue with him and snapped it shut. She did want to play house with him, ridiculous as the notion might be.

  He watched her carefully, assessing her expression. She looked away from him and stood abruptly, walking to the railing. She leaned against the stout wood and stared into the night. She heard the scrape of his chair and footsteps. A second later, his hulking body stood next
to hers, thigh to thigh.

  “I want to try.” His voice cracked.

  “Try? Try what?” What the hell was he talking about? Her mind raced through the possibilities, each one scarier than the one before it.

  “To be a father.”

  “Are you serious?” She gazed up at him. His dark eyes didn’t have the usual mischievous twinkle. He looked dead serious.

  He looked away, a muscle ticked in his jaw, and he swallowed. “Ellie died bringing Macy to me. I missed the first five years of her life. Her first step. Her first word. Her first smile. It’s the least I can do.”

  Amelia nodded, unable to speak.

  “Will you help me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you.” He took her chin in his hand and lifted it carefully. His lips touched hers in a kiss full of gentle promise. “I like you.” His voice was a gravelly whisper.

  “I like you, too, against my better judgment.”

  He grinned shamelessly. “Good to see I haven’t lost my touch with the ladies.”

  “You haven’t.”

  “What about my touch with you?” He rubbed the points of her shoulders.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think I’m getting there, but you’re not cooperating fully.”

  “And I won’t.”

  He frowned; confusion flashed in his eyes before his usual cocky facade rushed back full force. “I’ll just have to change your mind. After all, we do live together.”

  “We don’t— I mean— We aren’t—” But they were living together and sleeping together, and she didn’t know want to say next.

  “We aren’t what?”

  “A couple,” she blurted out.

  “Is that what you want? To be a couple? Not into casual sex, are you?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Okay, I’m good with that.”

  “With what?” Shocked sliced through her.

  “Us being a couple. Especially if I get more of what I got tonight.” His wicked grin summed up his feelings.

  “But you like variety, something different.”

  “This is different for me. I’ll give it a shot.” He said it casually, as if he were debating whether to try sushi for the first time.

  “Brick, are you sure?”

  “What choice do I have?” He held out his hands palms-up as if he were surrendering to fate. A second later a crooked grin slid across his face. “Besides, I still have road trips.”

  “So we’re a couple when you’re here and not when you’re on road trips?”

  “I didn’t say that. Exactly.”

  “What did you say?” She pressed onward, still processing in her own mind if she really wanted this to go any further.

  “I can still party, just not sample the dessert.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Women are dessert to you? That’s all?”

  “Whoa. That’s not what I said.” He held up his hands in preparation for mental blows to his psyche.

  She arched a brow. He was being a drama queen.

  “Well, not what I meant.” He corrected his statement with an endearing, self-deprecating smile.

  “Brick, what makes you so sure I want any kind of relationship with you?”

  “Because you’re not a casual relationship kind of girl.” He furrowed his brow as if she were the most confusing woman ever

  “But you’re not an any-kind-of-relationship guy.”

  He shrugged. “Things change. Macy needs stability.”

  “And when we go our separate ways?”

  “If we go our separate ways, I’ll be equipped to handle this, and she’ll trust me more.”

  “You have it all figured out.”

  “Not really, but I’m good in the moment. Give me a chance, Ammie.” He moved in closer, pinning her against the railing, his erection hard against her midsection. He cupped her hands in his face, his expression earnest. “I can do this. I know I can. At least, I want to try.”

  Amelia closed her eyes to the pull of his brown eyes. She had no idea what this was that he could do. What was he proposing other than exclusivity in bed and a teacher out of bed? She considered pinning him down to specifics but couldn’t bring herself to do it. He was playing, and she wasn’t sure she’d be any good at this particular game.

  “Okay, sure, we can be a couple and take it one day at a time.”

  He grinned, his eyes lighting up. “You won’t regret this.”

  Oh, yes, she would, but she was doing it anyway.

  Chapter 14—Off the Bench

  Brick left on a five-day, three-game road trip two days later, feeling pretty good about himself. He sat in the visitors’ locker room doing stretches and getting in the zone, more relaxed than he’d been in a long while.

  Rush sat next to him, rubbing his bloodshot eyes and yawning.

  “Stay out too late last night, comrade?” Brick asked, not looking up from what he was doing.

  “Yeah.” Rush groaned. “I’m drinking for two ov us now since you desert me.”

  Brick shrugged. “I’m into something else right now. Being a dad, for starters.”

  Rush squinted at him as if trying to figure out who this stranger was. “We on road trip. You party tonight with us?”

  “I might. Not sure yet,” Brick answered, not willing to commit to much more than that. What the fuck was happening? Sure, he said he’d be exclusive, but he could still party with the guys. And flirt. Nothing wrong with that. Amelia didn’t own him. He needed to blow off some steam once in a while. Just because he was a new dad didn’t mean he had to give up all his bad habits.

  “Good.” Rush stood and ambled to his own locker only to be replaced a moment later by Matt.

  “Hey, how’s fatherhood going?” Matt asked.

  Brick sighed, wondering why these guys wouldn’t let him finish his pregame routine. A teammate didn’t mess with another player’s routine. “It’s going.”

  “If you need any tips or want to hang out together with the kids sometime—”

  Brick nodded. “I’ll let you know.”

  “Macy held her own with my boys. Not too many girls or boys can do that.”

  Brick had to smile. “That’s my girl.”

  Matt stood, having said what he wanted to say, and left. Brick glanced around, not seeing anyone else paying him any attention, and went back to his prep.

  Less than an hour later, he was in the net and feeling damn good. He blocked shots as if he had radar in his gloves and rockets on his skates. Colorado managed to keep it close, playing their own tight defense. The game was tied zero-zero late into the third period. Brick wasn’t about to give up a shutout, despite the sweat pouring off him as if his helmet had a water spigot attached. He sprayed water on his face and took a swig before placing it back on the net, then crouched down low as the final seconds ticked off the clock.

  At the other end of the ice, Coop passed to Smooth, who shot the puck between the goalie’s legs as the period expired. The light lit up and the horn sounded.

  Ripping off his mask, Brick skated to his buddies swarming the ice, slapping backs, and getting slapped in return. They lined up to shake hands with the Avalanche, then skated off the ice.

  The mood in the locker room was jubilant. Coach said a few words before giving up the floor to the captain. Cooper stood in the middle of the room, meeting the gaze of every man in there. Brick had already stripped off his uniform, pads, and skates and sat in his underwear. He wiped his face with a towel.

  Next to Coop stood their beaming team president and majority owner, Ethan Parker, the Seattle billionaire who’d stolen a team from Gainesville and brought it to Seattle. He’d taken a big gamble, and it’d paid off. In three seasons, the Sockeyes had one of the best attendance records in the league. Ethan played in an adult hockey league and wasn’t bad for an amateur. Once in a while, he’d skate with the guys before practice. Brick had been impressed.

  “Great job, men. I don’t need to tell you th
at we’re battling LA for the top spot in the Western Conference,” Coop said. “The Fish award tonight goes to Brick for being impenetrable at net.” He held up an ugly stuffed salmon mounted on a plaque and handed it to Brick. Brick heaved it over his head and his teammates cheered.

  He’d been awarded the Fish before, but this time was even sweeter because they were on a roll and looking like a contender for the Cup come spring, as long as the injury gods shone down on them, keeping them healthy.

  Grinning and in the mood to party, Brick appreciated Coop’s short-and-to-the-point speech. He made a beeline for the showers and took his usual cold one. He should’ve picked a sport like water polo or at least a different position in hockey than one that required the most pads. But he loved being a goalie and couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

  Returning to his locker, he reluctantly dressed in his suit and followed his teammates to the waiting bus. They’d stay in Colorado tonight and fly to Winnipeg in the morning. They didn’t have a game tomorrow night, which meant Brick could spend the day recovering.

  Matt took the seat next to him on the bus and made a short phone call to his boys. Brick realized with a guilty start he should do the same thing. Trying not to be too obvious, he eavesdropped on Matt’s convo to get an idea of what kinds of questions a dad asked his kids. Satisfied he knew what to do, he dialed Amelia’s phone.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey yourself,” she said back.

  “I called to check in.”

  “Really?” Her amusement came across the phone loud and clear.

  “Yeah, really. Isn’t that what a dad and boyfriend does?”

  “Sure is. You want to talk to her?”

  “Uh, yeah.” He didn’t really. For some reason, that little girl still terrified him. Maybe it was fear of rejection, fear of not measuring up, fear of messing up. Maybe all of the above.

  He heard some murmuring and then Macy’s shrill, little-girl voice. “I don’t want to talk to him.”

  “Sure you do,” Amelia cajoled.

  “No.”

  There was more talking, low enough he couldn’t hear.

  “Uh, she’s in a mood and doesn’t want to talk. It’s not you, it’s her.”