Harland looked up, one brow raised. "What?"
Aaron shook head. No, he wasn't going to ask Harland now, not in front of everyone else.
Ben nudged his skate against Aaron's own, pulling his attention from Harland. "So this is your first date in how long?"
"Are you kidding? They didn't have dates when Pops was growing up." Banky started laughing at his own joke, the laughter dying in his throat when everyone just stared at him. His ears turned red and he looked away, mumbling to himself.
"It's not a date."
"Yeah? Then what do you call it?"
"We're just getting together for drinks. That's it."
"Really?" Zach's voice was filled with doubt. "Bullshit. If you wanted to get together for drinks, you'd take her somewhere else. But you're taking her to Mystic's. With us. That's a date. Hell, it's more than a date, that's like declaring your intentions. And you know it, so don't go bullshitting us. Or yourself."
"Guys, it's not—" Aaron snapped his mouth closed, frowning as he worried about saying too much. Oh, fuck it. These guys were his family, as much as his daughters were. "It's not that simple. I'm divorced. I'm still adjusting to taking care of two daughters I barely know. Savannah doesn't want to get in the middle of shit like that. No woman would."
"Then why are you bringing her tonight?"
"Like I said, it's just drinks. Nothing else."
Aaron didn't have to worry about trying to convince anyone he was telling the truth, because Coach Torresi poked his head around the corner, a frown creasing his chiseled face. "You lazy fuckers going to get out there and play? Or are we just going to call it a night and let Syracuse go home with the win?"
Activity exploded inside the locker room as everyone grabbed their gear and headed out, Aaron and Zach the last two in line. Aaron was just ready to step onto the ice when Zach grabbed him, his dark gaze too intense.
"You know I call bullshit, right?"
"Doesn't matter, Mummy. It's just drinks. Nothing more." Aaron pulled his arm from Zach's grip and headed toward center ice, knowing the other man didn't believe the words any more than he did.
Chapter Ten
Savannah stopped just inside the door, her eyes adjusting to the dim lights of the bar. The interior was more spacious and modern than she had expected, with polished high-tops strategically placed around the floor and bench seating framing the back wall. Smaller groupings of tables that could be pushed together if needed were placed between the bar to her right and the stage to her left. The stage was empty except for two microphone stands and a karaoke machine set up between them. A guy dressed in all black sat on a stool in the back corner, headphones over his ears as he studied the large tablet in his hand.
She hoped someone had gotten here before them, because even without a band playing, almost every table was filled. The buzz of conversation was loud enough that it nearly drowned the music coming from…somewhere. A jukebox, probably.
Aaron placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her through the crowd. She noticed the tables pushed together in the corner, most of the seats still empty. Aaron led her to the two seats on the far end, across from another couple. He held the chair out for her and she shrugged out of her jacket, draping it over the back of the chair before sitting down. She studied the other couple from beneath her lashes, finally recognizing them from Aaron's party almost two months ago. At least, she recognized the woman. She had been the one with the cute little boy, who happened to be the spitting image of the man sitting with her.
Savannah searched her memory, finally latching onto the two names as Aaron leaned across to talk to the other man.
"I'm not used to seeing you here anymore."
Harland laughed, the sound low and mellow. "It's been a while, yeah. But it's the first game. I can't break tradition."
"Besides, we both need a break from Noah." Courtney turned to her husband, amusement flashing in her eyes as she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his. Savannah looked away, feeling like a voyeur. And how silly was that? It was just a simple kiss, one that couldn't even be described as a public display of affection.
No, it wasn't the kiss. It was the intensity of the expression on Harland's face, like his entire life was devoted to the woman next to him, like he'd do anything in the world for her. Seeing that made Savannah feel like she was intruding on something private.
And made her wonder what it would be like to love like that. To be loved like that in return.
"Did you want anything to drink?"
She turned, nearly bumping noses with Aaron because he was so close. Of course, he was close—that was the only way she'd be able to hear him. That didn't stop her from jumping back in surprise, though.
"That depends. Who's driving?" She didn't have her car—Tessa had picked her up before the game, and she'd be driving home with Aaron, since they lived right next door to each other. But if he was going to be drinking, she figured she should stick to soda or water.
"I have a one beer limit so you're good to go."
"Then I'll have a glass of white wine."
"One wine coming up." He pushed away from the table, already reaching for his wallet as he threaded his way to the bar. Savannah let her eyes follow him, her gaze taking in the way his suit jacket fit his broad back, the way the dress trousers hugged his firm ass. What was it about a man in a tailored suit?
Especially this man.
She sat back in the chair with a small sigh of appreciation then looked to her left, her gaze meeting Courtney's. The woman offered her a small smile, letting her know she had been caught. Savannah shrugged and smiled back, not denying it. Why should she? Aaron was attractive, well-built, and sexy as hell. What woman wouldn't look?
He returned a few minutes later, a glass of wine in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. She accepted the glass and took a small sip, studying him over the rim as he sat down beside her. Did she imagine the wince? Or the way he almost grabbed his side before letting his hand drop? No, she didn't think so. In fact, she'd be surprised if he wasn't hurt. She'd seen how he'd been hit tonight, more than once. The game had been too fast for her to follow but she didn't have any trouble missing the physical aspects of it. She had cringed more than once and wondered how the players did it, how their bodies survived it. Aaron had been playing for seventeen years, more than that, really. It was a miracle he didn't have more scars and bumps than he did.
The table quickly filled as more players showed up, the conversation getting louder with each addition. A few of the faces she recognized and was better able to put names to each time Aaron made introductions. What surprised her was when a waitress came to their table, her long legs encased in slim-fitting jeans tucked inside a pair of worn cowboy boots. She hadn't been introduced at the party in August, but there was no missing that long, curly red hair.
Aaron draped his arm behind her chair and leaned forward, his mouth pressed against her ear as he spoke. "That's Haley. Zach's girlfriend."
"She works here?"
"Yeah. That's how they met."
She shouldn't be surprised but she was. For some reason, she hadn't expected a hockey player's girlfriend to be a waitress in a bar.
Which only proved she had some seriously snobbish, preconceived notions she needed to work on.
She turned to say something and almost bumped noses with Aaron again. She smiled, ready to apologize, except the smile wavered on her face. He was watching her so closely, the brown of his eyes so warm, her insides started to melt. She dropped her gaze to his mouth, to the thin scar that ran from the corner of his mouth down to his chin, barely noticeable in the ever-present stubble that covered his jaw, adding to his rugged appeal. His lips curled in a quick grin and she leaned forward, just a little, wanting to press her mouth against those sinfully soft lips, wanting him to kiss her.
"Hey, Pops. Come sing with me."
Aaron jerked back, sliding away and dropping his arm. Savannah swallowed a groan and reached for
her wine, surprised to see her hand trembling.
"I'm not singing, Banky."
"Come on. I need someone to go up with me."
"You're a big boy, you can do it on your own."
"Nah. I'd be too embarrassed."
One of Aaron's teammates—Ben, she thought his name was—leaned forward, humor glittering in his eyes. He was attractive, with his jet-black hair and square jaw and hazel eyes, but there was something about him. Almost like he knew he was attractive and wasn't afraid to let everyone know it. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Banky. You just played in front of eight thousand people. Why would you be embarrassed to get up on stage and sing in front of a hundred?"
"It's not the same, is all."
Savannah bit down on her lip, hiding her smile at the blush that stained the other man's ears. There was something so endearing about him, something that made her want to cuddle and protect him. She had been surprised when he walked in, certain he wasn't old enough to drink, but Aaron had assured her he was twenty-one.
Legal, but barely.
A lot of teasing and pushing and shoving ensued, none of which Savannah understood. Then two of the guys grabbed the younger player and dragged him to the stage, where they studied a binder filled with song choices.
"Oh man, get your phones ready. This is going to be good."
Savannah smothered her laugh and took another sip of wine. She wasn't sure if it would be good or not, but it certainly couldn't be any worse than some of the other people who had been up there so far. Not that she would ever criticize because it took a lot more guts than she'd ever have to do something like that. Not to mention a lot more alcohol.
Everyone shifted in their chairs, facing the stage. More than one of the players had their phones out, ready to start recording. Savannah turned her chair around and curled one leg under her, settling in for the show. She heard Aaron move his chair behind her, smiled when he shifted closer and draped his arm around her shoulder. It was silly, for something so small and inconsequential to make her smile like she was, but she couldn't help it. They were with his teammates, so in a way, it was like he was claiming her.
And God help her if she ever said that to Tessa. Her friend would read her the riot act on how being an independent, successful woman—or just a woman, period—meant no man was able to claim her.
Tessa was probably right. But that didn't stop the little thrill of excitement shooting through her and pebbling her skin.
The music finally started and the three guys up on stage started singing—out of tune and out of sync. Good-natured laughter erupted around the table, as well as the light from several flashes. Travis groaned and shook his head, motioning for everyone to stop.
He moved back to the guy in black, their conversation lasting long enough that the other two guys started complaining. Travis moved back to the microphone, uncertainty flashing across his face. He looked over at Aaron, some kind of silent communication passing between them.
"Go for it, Travis. You got this."
Savannah tossed a questioning glance over her shoulder, but Aaron just smiled and shook his head. She turned back to the stage, wondering what was going on as music drifted from the expensive sound system.
And then Travis started singing and the entire bar grew quiet.
She heard the whispers of amazement from Aaron's teammates, quickly glanced around and saw the expressions of surprise on each face. She was certain the expressions matched her own. He had a beautiful voice, rich and mellow, the vocal range astounding as he belted out the words to "When A Man Loves A Woman".
Her throat tightened at the emotion in his voice, at the way he made the audience feel the music, feel the lyrics as he sang about holding on to what he needs. And just like everyone else around her, she jumped to her feet to clap and cheer when he was finished, forgetting for a moment that she wasn't at a concert, but in a bar she had never heard of, surrounded by a bunch of hockey players.
She sat back down then eased her chair around, pulling in a shaky breath. "That was—" The words died in her throat when she met Aaron's gaze. The way he was watching her, the expression in his eyes. Dark. Sinfully intense.
Filled with need.
He leaned forward, his lips brushing against her ear, his breath warm against her skin. "Do you want to leave?"
Savannah couldn't speak. She could barely breathe.
All she could manage to do was nod her head.
Chapter Eleven
Savannah pushed the door closed, the soft click echoing in the silence of the house like a shot. Aaron didn't wait—he couldn't wait, not when his entire body burned for her. He reached for her, spun her around and claimed her mouth in a searing kiss.
He heard a small thud, a crashing jingle as her purse and keys hit the floor, then felt her palms press against his chest. Was he being too rough? Assuming too much, too soon? Was she going to push him away?
No.
Her fingers trembled as she undid the buttons of his shirt, missing one then undoing two at a time. He shrugged out of the suit jacket, his mouth never leaving hers, and let it drop to the floor, right there in the entranceway.
Savannah moaned, the sound a sigh of disappointment as her fingers bunched in the plain white cotton of his undershirt. He tried to free his arms from the dress shirt, damn near strangled himself because the stupid fucking tie was still around his neck. He started to pull away but Savannah grabbed him, holding him still, and deepened the kiss. She pushed against him, her body soft and pliant and warm. Her kiss, her touch, everything about her…she drove him wild, forcing all thoughts from his mind.
All thoughts except this woman in his arms. Here. Now. With him. Rubbing against him, like she was consumed with need to get closer.
He knew the feeling.
He tightened his hands around her waist and spun, bracing her supple body against the wall. Another sigh escaped her, sharp and needy, unleashing something inside him. Something primal, hungry, desperate. Something he never knew existed until now.
Until Savannah.
He shoved her coat off her shoulders, grabbed the hem of her sweater and pulled it up. Knuckles grazed soft skin, smooth and warm. Were his hands too rough? Too callused? Should he stop—
Savannah closed one of her smaller hands around his and dragged it up, placing it on the soft swell of her breast. Aaron swallowed back a groan of need, his tongue plunging into her mouth over and over as his thumb grazed the tight peak of her nipple poking against the lace of her bra. And fuck, it wasn't enough. He needed to feel bare skin, needed to touch and taste.
He dipped his fingers into the cup of her bra and pulled the lacy material down, baring the rounded flesh to his touch. Her back arched as he ran his thumb across the hard nipple. He flicked the tight peak with the edge of his nail then gently pinched. She sighed again, the sound sharp and desperate. Her hips thrust against his, rubbing against the hard length of his aching cock.
His hands dropped to the waistband of her pants, searching for a button or snap or zipper. Anything. He needed them off her. Now. Needed to see her, touch her, taste her, with a searing intensity he'd never experienced before.
Savannah reached down, nudged his hands out of the way, then pushed the slacks down past her hips to her thighs. Trembling fingers closed around his hand, guiding it between her legs.
God, she was so fucking wet. Slick and hot. He ran the tip of his finger along her clit, swallowed a groan when her hips jerked against his touch. She pulled her mouth from his, her lips damp and swollen from his kisses. Her lids fluttered open, revealing eyes glazed with burning need. Her gaze met his as one breathy word fell from her lips.
"Please."
He caught her mouth again, the kiss hard, possessing. Then he dropped to his knees, grabbed the waistband of her pants, and yanked them down. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, searching for balance as she kicked off her shoes and stepped out of the tangled material of her slacks.
Aaron grabbed her leg and draped it o
ver his shoulder, mesmerized at the sight in front of him. The small patch of tightly-trimmed curls, their color slightly darker than the thick strands of hair that framed Savannah's face. Soft flesh, swollen and pale, the delicate folds parted to reveal the darker pink flesh beneath. Aaron reached out, trailed his finger against the hard nub of her clit. Her body quivered, her nails digging deeper into his shoulders, her breath rushing from her in a soft cry as he lowered his head and ran his tongue over her clit.
Sweet, so fucking sweet. He pulled the hard flesh into his mouth, sucking, heard her moan again, louder. Fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. Her hips rocked against his mouth, faster as he licked. Sucked. Tasted.
He reached out, using two fingers to spread the damp flesh, and flicked his tongue against her clit. Over and over, faster, her hips matching the rhythm of his mouth, his tongue. He reached behind her with his free hand, squeezed the round globe of her ass, then slid a finger along the cleft, down, down further, tracing the cleft to the hot entrance bared before him. He slid his finger into her tight heat, slow and deep. In, then out. Again, a second finger joining the first. Filling her, stretching her, over and over as he sucked and teased with tongue and teeth.
Her hips rocked, thrusting, seeking. Faster, tiny little moans and pleas falling from her mouth. Her muscles tightened, squeezing, pulling his fingers deeper. Her hands twisted in his hair. Her body stilled, stiffened for a fraction of a second, then a harsh cry filled his ears as her hips bucked against his. Her inner muscles convulsed around his fingers, hard and fast as her climax exploded.
"Aaron." His name was a harsh plea, ragged and desperate. "Please. Now. Fuck me. Now."
Hunger, blinding and desperate, tore through him. He eased away from her, steadying her with one hand as he tore at his trousers with the other. Belt, button, zipper. His mouth closed over hers, swallowing her cries as her hips continued their desperate thrusting, and shoved his pants down. His cock thrust free, hard and aching. He closed his hands around her waist, lifted, and plunged into her, burying himself deep in her wet heat.
Playing It Safe Page 8
