The Winning Score: A best-friend's-sister, enemies-to-lovers sports romance (The Playmakers Series Hockey Romance Book 4)

by G. K. Brady

  Sarah was like no one he’d ever felt before. All fire and raw passion, responsive to every touch and shift, chasing her pleasure even as she bestowed it. She had him grinding against her hand like an eager teenager. The dim realization dawned that if he didn’t get himself under control, he’d go up in flames. And he hadn’t even been inside her yet.

  Reluctantly, he uncoupled his lips from hers. He was swimming, gasping, and he needed to wrestle back the helm on this ship or he’d drown. His hands still beneath her blouse, he stroked and kneaded, delighting in her soft contours while he trailed kisses down her silky neck, grazing her collarbone with his teeth. She moved her hand from his swollen cock, gripped his shoulders, and dropped her head back with a sighing moan that had him wanting to sink his teeth into her throat. Restraint was a thin, shredded curtain he took swipes at and fleetingly grasped. He switched directions and licked a trail to her ear, where he nibbled and nipped her earlobe, trying to catch his breath.

  Just as his hands were working her blouse up, the storm of the kiss ebbed for an instant, and she pulled back and stared up at him as if she’d just realized who the hell he was and what the hell he was doing to her. He paused his fondling as he waited for a signal, a glimmer that she wanted him to keep going.

  “Should I stop?” he panted. Say no, say no, say no.

  “I don’t know. What are we doing?”

  He dropped his forehead against hers. One corner of his mouth quirked. “You honestly don’t know?”

  A laugh bubbled out of her. “I know what we’re doing, but what are we doing? Gage is going to kill us.”

  Two questions struck him at once: Was she looking for an escape because she wasn’t into him? Or was she into him and, unlike him, was thinking ahead? If they took this further, where he longed to go, it wouldn’t be casual—not for him—and Gage would find out. As bad for his health as that might prove, all of him wanted option two.

  He straightened, slid his hands from under her blouse, and placed them on her shoulders. “I thought you said we wouldn’t tell him.” Now he sounded like a stupid kid again, which pulled some of the wind from his lusty sails. His cock didn’t get the message, though. It just wanted Sarah, and it was begging for release, pushing so hard against his fly it might split the zipper momentarily.

  To his chagrin, she pulled away and straightened her clothes. His mind wandered to whether her breasts were still exposed under the blouse, and he stifled a groan along with the urge to get his hands back on her and find out for himself.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t have started this.” Her voice held a small quaver he tried to decode.

  “Even if your brother finds out and beats my ass, it’s totally worth it.”

  She smiled, and he took it as a sign and drew near once more, snaking his hands around her waist and snugging her to him. She didn’t resist, melted against him, and he took her hand and placed it back on his crotch. “Maybe we shouldn’t have started it, but how do you want to end it?”

  She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and dipped her gaze to where her hand rested on his dick. Unabashedly, she stroked him again and raised her molten eyes to his. He nearly lost it. “Maybe we can help each other out,” she murmured.

  His hands moved under her blouse of their own accord. The thrill of discovering the lacy cups weren’t back in place made his shaft dance. She blinked, and a slow, lazy smile curved her lips. Teasing her breasts, brushing her nipples, he cocked an eyebrow. “Help each other out how?”

  She leaned in to his ear, increasing the friction outside his fly. His eyes might have rolled back in his head and stayed there. “Well,” she whispered, “I think it’s been a while for you, and I know it’s been a while for me, and if this is just sex—”

  He froze. Went completely still. His brain, which had been floating in and out of a sex-induced daze, suddenly came on board at full capacity. Why did the words “just sex” leave him a little chilled? They were the same damn words he would have used, so why were they balling in his chest, ready to flare into heartburn?

  Just sex. Was that it for her? The question surprised and confused the hell out of him. More questions raced through his head. Compared to Wolf, would Quinn disappoint? Was Quinn capable of living up to what she was used to? What would it take to capture her heart?

  Answers were as fleeting as his control had been mere moments before.

  He withdrew his hands and glided them up and down her arms—on top of the fabric. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Sunshine, but—”

  With a growl, Archer hopped up, alert, his body straining toward the French doors leading to the deck.

  Sarah removed her hand from Quinn’s fly and hissed, “What is it, Arch?”

  Glass crashed. Archer barked. Sarah’s eyes popped wide, a mirror to Quinn’s own.

  He spun in place, adrenalin speeding through him like a dam bursting—unlike the pleasurable dopamine rush he’d been enjoying. In the shadows by the French doors, something glimmered on the floor. He glimpsed his hockey stick propped against a doorframe. Another pivot, and he faced Sarah and squeezed her arm. “Go to my mom’s room and stay there. Make sure you keep your phone on you.” Archer whined beside him. “And take Archer.”

  Sarah called the dog, who looked torn between her command and wanting to investigate with Quinn. Quinn waved a hand at him. “Go take care of your mom.”

  The sight of Sarah and Archer trotting away gave Quinn a gust of relief. He grabbed his stick and headed for the glass doors. Before he reached them, glass crunching beneath his shoes brought him to a halt. He dropped into a crouch and ran his fingers over a rock sitting among scattered shards. Cold air blasted him. He glanced at the door, not surprised to find its pane shattered.

  Someone threw a fucking rock through the door!

  He flicked on the deck lights and stepped through a different French door. Were those footsteps coming from the pool surround below? Oddly, the motion sensor lights didn’t come on. All his senses sharpened. Cautiously, he worked his way down the steps that led from the deck to the pool level, his eyes sweeping the darkness that enfolded the landscape around it. Normally, the area was illuminated by timed lights, but when his feet hit the bottom landing, he was plunged into eerie inkiness.

  He peered at the darkened gym windows. In a murky corner, he thought something moved. He inched toward it, stick gripped. When he found nothing, he methodically walked the length of the floor-to-ceiling glass and came up empty.

  Faint, indistinct noises pulled his attention to the depths beyond the pool. He crept around the perimeter, his neck hairs standing on end. Why didn’t I grab a flashlight? Because everything’s supposed to be lit up right now!

  The farther he went along the pool’s edge, the more the cold, gloomy night closed in around him. His heart was a jackhammer in his chest. The sensation was familiar, though one he experienced on the ice. Not like this.

  A rustle on his left startled him. Something, someone, is there.

  He pushed a cleansing breath through his lungs, counted to three, and deliberately put one foot in front of the other. He raised his stick and plunged into darkness.

  Chapter 25

  Samson and Sarah

  Sarah ran for Liz’s room. A little unnerved by the crash moments before, being with Liz was probably as much for her own comfort as for Liz’s.

  While the sound of breaking panes had startled her, the look on Quinn’s face had really spooked her. His usual smirk, the cocky-casual look, had morphed into downright alarm. The flutterbugs that had set flight during their no-holds-barred lip-locking had been zapped by his sobered demeanor.

  As she and Archer navigated the hall, however, her mind detoured to how Quinn had practically dived into her mouth. Omigod! Soooo hot!

  Her hormones kicked up, and the tummy tickles blossomed once more despite the mystery back in the family room. She couldn’t stop her panties dampening at the recollection of his mouth and hands on her, adding to the moisture already the
re. If he kissed everyone that way … Jesus, no wonder women wanted him!

  The thought turned her quivering insides leaden, like someone had lassoed her dragonfly wings, and his words floated through her lust-riddled brain. Don’t take this the wrong way, Sunshine … Fuck! He had been about to tell her he wasn’t interested, hadn’t he? And that was with her proposing no-strings sex, something a guy like him should have jumped at. She’d offered up her hussy self on a platter, but he’d kissed her and said, “Thanks for the sample, but no thanks.” Maybe he’d decided older and brunette were an interesting walk on the wild side, but he’d stick with blond and busty. Except it hadn’t felt that way. No, it had felt like he was ravenous and couldn’t get enough fast enough.

  Telling herself to knock it off, she lightly rapped on Liz’s door and pushed it open. The soft light from a bedside lamp revealed Liz reclining on pillows, her arm flung to one side and an e-reader just beyond her grasp. Her eyes were closed, but she stirred as soon as Archer found his way to her side.

  “Oh! How did you get in?” Pulling herself up, she rubbed Archer’s head. Confusion crossed her face when she saw Sarah. “Sarah? Is everything all right?”

  Sarah clasped her hands behind her back and took a short breath to even her voice, choosing her words carefully. “Everything’s fine. Quinn heard a noise outside and went to check it out, so I thought I’d look in on you before heading to bed. Do you have everything you need? Anything I can get you?”

  “No, doll.” She patted the bed beside her. “But tell me about your date. Did you have fun?”

  Date? Right. Seems like weeks ago. She perched on the edge of the mattress and filled Liz in, which took all of two minutes.

  “Quinn was beside himself after you left,” Liz laughed.

  Sarah frowned. “He was?”

  “Oh yes. Fidgeted and cussed and paced like he had a bur stuck up his butt. It was kinda cute. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him do that before. But then again, he hasn’t had to since he went from college to the big league. If you have people taking care of your every need, padding your life so all you have to do is show up—oh, and sycophants telling you how great you are all the livelong day—well, lack of maturity and basic checks and balances will do funny things to someone’s brain.”

  A giggle bubbled inside Sarah. “I’m having a hard time picturing it.” The image of Quinn pacing with “a bur up his butt” and the fact that he’d cared enough to be agitated in the first place made her a little giddy. God, she was acting like a starry-eyed teenager.

  Her mind zigzagged to him heading toward the noise, his tightly gripped hockey stick to hand. Surely he wasn’t in any danger, was he? He’d come give them the all-clear any minute, wouldn’t he?

  Minutes ticked by, and though Liz was talking, Sarah struggled to focus on what she said. Where was Quinn? She glanced at her phone. A half hour had already passed with no word from him.

  She rose and headed for the door. “Think I’ll go see what’s keeping Quinn. Is it okay if I leave Arch here with you for now?”

  “Sure, doll.”

  As Sarah reached for the lever, the door whooshed open. She jumped when Quinn loomed in the doorway. “Hey,” he said softly.

  She scanned his eyes but couldn’t read anything there. His expression was blanker than his poker face. Noticeably missing was the hockey stick, though his hand twitched. “Hey. Everything check out okay?” she ventured.

  “Yep.”

  Something in his bearing set off a few alarm bells in her head. He pushed his way inside, apparently eager to get to his mom, and Sarah stood back. Intruder syndrome had her softly calling Archer and leaving mother and son behind.

  In her own room, she flung herself on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Shit! What had he discovered? What could he have discovered? This was a gated, safe community for Denver’s elite, wasn’t it? The same unpleasant thought—that he’d regretted the kiss—stabbed its way into her musings, delivering a nasty sting. If he had, she found herself hoping they hadn’t shifted into an irretrievably awkward zone that meant the loss of his friendship—a friendship that had snuck up on her and grown into something precious.

  Forty minutes later, she was still in her date clothes, stretched out on the bed, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts bobbing atop an endless whirlpool. A knock so soft she almost missed it sounded. Archer’s raised head confirmed what she’d heard, and she got up and opened the door. There stood Quinn, straight and sober. She almost shook her head—to clear the cobwebs—because she wasn’t used to the short-haired, serious look on him.

  “Can I come in?”

  Shit. He was being serious and polite. She swept her arm to the side. “Of course.”

  His hand—that masculine hand that had heated her skin—smoothed the back of his head. “You okay?”

  She blinked. “I’m fine. How about you? What did you find?”

  He let out a big gust of air. “The glass was broken out of one of the French doors.”

  “How?”

  His eyes drilled hers. “A big-ass rock was launched through it.”

  A chill ran up her spine. “Kids?”

  “I don’t think so. Listen, can we talk?”

  Another chill, and she began rubbing her arms. “Yes. Should I be sitting?”

  He closed the door and motioned toward the seating area. “Let’s both sit.”

  “You’re being awfully cryptic, Sparky.” She curled up in one of the armchairs, tucking her legs beneath her, while he took the other seat.

  He leaned forward, his elbows on his tree-trunk thighs. The T-shirt stretched over his broad back, displaying his sculpted shoulders and biceps. As his hands dangled between his knees, his thick wrists rotated and his forearms flexed. Veins corded with enough definition to be sexy, but not ridiculous, crisscrossed their surfaces, hinting at the power contained there. He reminded her of a big cat, every muscle taut, ready to spring. God, he was a sight, with layers and ridges and planes that called to her.

  She needed to get herself under control. “So what’s on your mind?”

  He cleared his throat. “You remember the blond that you, uh, overheard in the bathroom? Dory?”

  “Yeah?” She couldn’t muster any snark about Dory—only bewilderment edged with dread. The blond’s words rolled around in Sarah’s head, along with an image of her taking Quinn in her mouth while he fondled her double Ds.

  Bile rose in Sarah’s throat.

  His next words weren’t what she’d expected, and they erased the awful vision. “Well, I might have a little problem of the ‘I’m your favorite fan’ variety.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He dragged a hand over his face. “While you were sick, I was out walking Archer in the neighborhood, and she came out of nowhere, pretending she was running, but I think it was—I’m not trying to sound conceited here—but I think she set it up to run into me.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “From the, ah, outfit, her makeup, and how she didn’t look like she’d been running … like she’d been lying in wait instead. Anyway, she kind of lost of her shit in front of some people, and I got a really bad feeling—like I might be dealing with someone who’s a taco shy of a combo plate. I called Paige to see about getting the security system fired up, but that hasn’t happened yet.” He offered a weak smile.

  Sarah swallowed, her throat sticky. “How many times were you with her? Dory, not Paige.”

  Another huge breath moved through his lungs. “Look, I’m not proud—this is not how I want you to see me—but besides the night in my truck, I brought her back here the night of the team dinner.”

  Sarah’s heart caved. “Oh.”

  She could feel Quinn’s eyes on her, intent, searching, but she felt sick. This wasn’t like finding out about Wolf’s marriage. She and Quinn … there was nothing romantic between them. They didn’t really know one another. Hell, she’d done her best to avoid getting to know him. And yet she realized wi
th exquisite clarity that had all shifted.

  “Sarah,” he said gently, “this is uncomfortable as hell for me to talk about. Nevertheless, I’m not going to hide anything from you. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, and if it means you hate my guts, I get it. This … incident … is one blaring example of why I’m not man enough for you. But I want you to know as much as possible about her in case … Well, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  Not man enough? What the hell is he talking about? She shoved the thought aside and latched on to another. “Why would she hurt me?”

  He leaned toward her and held out his hand. Sarah looked at it and hugged herself instead of taking it. He let it dangle in the space between them. “I don’t know that she could, but if she’s crazy …”

  “Did you call the police? About the rock?”

  He straightened. “I did. They didn’t sound too concerned. ‘Oh, you think a woman you slept with hurled a rock through your window? You realize we’ve had gusts up to sixty miles an hour tonight, don’t you, Mr. Hadley? Board up the window. Have a nice night.’” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “This may sound unreal coming from someone like me, but it tears me up to think I might’ve brought a problem home to you and Mom. Especially when it was well within my control.”

  She stole a glance at him. Fatigue and remorse were carved in his chiseled features, and they tugged her heartstrings. “Do you think she did it?”

  “I don’t know. Ask me if I think she’s capable, and my answer is yes. I hope I’m just being paranoid.” He leveled a hard gaze at her. “I want you to be alert, don’t go out, and keep Archer with you and my mom at all times.”

  The hair prickled along Sarah’s neck and arms. “Planning on going somewhere?”

  “No, but this is a big place. Without a working security system. And if you want to … if you want to go back to Gage’s, I understand. Just say the word, and I’ll help you move back.”

  A charged silence hung between them until Quinn dropped his head against the back of the chair. “There’s nothing quite like coming face-to-face with the consequences of my actions to realize how stupid I’ve been.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “Sarah, I’m sorry for being such an asshole. I—”