There’d be a circus in her office within seconds. An entire hockey team and countless staff to witness Bobby’s predicament. To see the evidence of her complete loss of professionalism and control.
Oh Jesus, what have I done?
Though it was way too late, adrenaline and embarrassment struck in force. She’d done the unthinkable. She’d made a scene. She’d assaulted a player on her team, and regardless of how richly he’d deserved it, now there’d be questions. Now everyone would know she couldn’t handle herself with a shithead like Bobby.
In less than ten minutes, the entire arena would know she’d lost her fucking mind. As it was, they could probably hear Bobby screaming that he was going to end her life with his bare hands.
Dodging Mike, she snatched her bag and coat off her desk and ran.
Garrick sat at the computer in his study, his eyes gritty with exhaustion from staring at reports, analysis, news pieces, and any other data points he could find about well-run, profitable sports teams. He put down the white paper he was working through when he heard the crunch of driveway gravel in front of his house.
He checked the clock. 1:17 AM.
He’d only been home for a half hour, having dashed out of the arena after the game to meet up with Melissa DuPont, another childhood friend who worked for the Kramers.
Another unofficial conversation and the picture was bleaker than ever. Garrick was walking a careful line between collecting information and putting his friends, people he cared about, at risk. What had seemed a vague threat at first now felt like imminent danger. The Kramers, the apparent captains of all underground industry in the area, had interests to protect.
The question was how great a threat they would perceive Garrick to be. He had no idea what he was going to do with what he’d learned, especially since he couldn’t tell anyone how he’d gotten it.
He went to the window and saw the sweep of headlights across his barn. When the sound of the idling engine didn’t change, when there was no car door opening or closing, he went to investigate.
He didn’t get lost travelers or drunken drop-bys out here at his farmhouse, being a solid ten miles outside the Moncton city limits and in the dead middle of farm country.
He flipped on lights as he moved through the house, hesitating when he got to the front hall. For the first time in his life, a frisson of fear rushed through him when he thought about opening his door.
Another reason to hate the Kramers.
He pulled aside the sheer curtain over the front door window and considered rubbing his eyes, convinced he was imagining things.
Savannah.
Something is wrong.
He threw the door open, cursing himself for not listening to the voicemails Rhian and Alexei had left earlier. He’d assumed they were telling him where to find them if he wanted to celebrate their win. He should have known something was up after Rhian called a third time.
Savannah sat in her car and stared at the steering wheel, not even glancing at him as he leaped down his front porch stairs and ran the length of his front walk.
She yelped when he wrenched her door open. Her unblinking gaze and pale face brought him up short. She was frightened. He knelt by her open door, ignoring the bite of driveway gravel digging into his knees.
“Are you okay?” he asked gently.
She didn’t answer. He reached out to touch her face, alarmed by the tear stains reflecting the dim blue light of the dashboard dials. When she flinched away, he let his hand drop and rested it on her leg.
She looked back at her steering wheel. “I’m in big trouble.”
She was still wearing her game clothes. Had she come straight from the arena? She should have left hours ago. His need for answers nearly choked him but he stomped on it. He’d get there, but first he needed her to turn off the car and come inside.
“You’re not in trouble with me.”
“Is Melissa still here?”
He blinked, surprised. “She was never here.”
Confusion clouded her expression. “I drove around for a while.” She glanced at him. “I didn’t want to interrupt…”
Garrick’s alarm grew. “You’ve been driving around since the game?”
“I was afraid to go home. There’s been this car. A big SUV, sometimes, at night.”
Fear churned in his gut. He forced himself not to shake answers from her. “You can always come here.”
Some day he’d even ask how she knew his address.
“I heard you tell Rhian you were meeting Melissa. Am I interrupting?”
A piece of the puzzle fell into place.
“Melissa is an old friend who I met for a late supper so we could talk about the Kramers.”
The relief she failed to hide was a bright spot in a long and increasingly stressful evening.
He wanted to tell her there wasn’t another woman in his life. Hell, he hadn’t given any other woman more than a passing thought since he’d met her. Hadn’t even managed the passing thoughts since he’d been with Savannah on Cape Breton Island. Now didn’t seem like the time.
“It wasn’t a date. I’m trying to find as much dirt as I can on the Kramers.”
Savannah cocked her head at him. “Why?”
He sighed. “Damned if I know. I guess I’m hoping I can prove they’re running a sports book and that Bobby is messing with the games. Maybe I can get the league to block the deal.”
He shrugged. His half-baked plan sounded stupid out loud.
“Can I help?” she asked.
“Sure. I learned a lot from Melissa tonight. You want to come in for some coffee and I’ll tell you what I know?”
He let go a deep breath of relief when she shut off the engine and pulled the key from the ignition.
He helped her out of the car and kept hold of her hand as he towed her up the porch steps and to the front door. She looked around. He smiled when she shifted her weight back and forth and made the porch plank creak.
“It was built in 1859,” he said.
She nodded and followed him through the front door. A rush of satisfaction surged through him when her eyes widened upon seeing the restored foyer and staircase. “It’s in wonderful shape.”
“Thanks.”
“You did it?”
“Sure. I had to have something to do on the off season aside from work Dad’s farm and babysit my sister’s kids.”
“It’s lovely. I like how you didn’t change things.”
He laughed. “I tried to stick to the classic design, though sometimes I wonder why.” He made a show of having to hang her coat sideway and wrestle the tiny front hall closet’s door shut. “Come on back. I’ll make some coffee and you can be suitably appalled at how updated the kitchen is.”
His spine tingled in response to her husky laugh as she trailed behind him through the dining room and into the kitchen. She ran her hand over the green granite counter tops before reaching up to touch the glass-front cabinet.
Then she looked at him as if she’d never seen him before. He stood still under her regard. He hoped she’d been expecting a bachelor pad condo and found the antique farmhouse more to her liking.
Her green eyes glowed and the warmth of the house was returning the pink to her cheeks. His arms twitched with the need to hold her.
“Here, I’ll get that coffee.” He turned to the kettle.
A hand on his back stilled him. “No.”
He turned back to her. “You don’t want coffee? I have tea or hot cocoa, if you’d rather.”
She stepped closer and dragged the thick elastic from her hair, letting it cascade down over her shoulders. “No, thank you.”
His pulse sped up and his jeans got considerably tighter.
He gulped. “What do you want?”
“You.”
Chapter Fifteen
Garrick’s eyes darkened to chocolate. Savannah loved how honest he was with his reactions. It was exactly what he demanded from her. She understood why now.
He never hid anything, was never ashamed of the truth.
God, she wanted to rip his clothes off.
Before she could do just that, he was there, yanking her up against him as his mouth locked on hers.
Her tongue met his as he thrust between her lips. Her moan echoed his as his large hand on her ass brought her belly against the hard ridge under his fly. She ground against him, desperate for his touch. His taste.
For the first time in hours, she forgot the feeling of Bobby’s hand on her chest, the sight of his flaccid cock. Now, at last, she felt clean. Whole. Normal.
She wrapped her arms around Garrick’s neck and held on for dear life. Her fingers burrowed through his thick hair as she kissed him back, trying to communicate her relief, her passion.
The world tilted and she tore her lips from his with an undignified squeak. She was cradled against his chest and he was already charging through the dining room and mounting the stairs.
She briefly considered insisting he not carry her. His bad hip, his pulled groin—she was an athletic five feet ten inches…ah, fuck it. Who was she kidding? She was enjoying the hell out of it.
He practically ran the length of the upstairs hallway. Through a door at the front of the house they entered a large master bedroom and sitting area. She glimpsed an en suite bathroom the size of her apartment, before he tossed her onto the huge four-poster bed.
Garrick shucked his shirt and reached for the button on his jeans before she’d finished bouncing.
She smiled. Excellent. They were on the same page.
She couldn’t get out of her pullover fast enough. The sports bra followed, and her sneakers sailed through the air as she toed them off. She never wanted to wear the things Bobby had touched again. She might just burn them in the large fireplace she’d seen from the foyer if Garrick would lend her a shirt to get home.
Bare from the waist up, she looked up at Garrick standing beside the bed, stark naked.
God, he was gorgeous.
He clamped a hand around her ankle and dragged her to the edge of the bed. Her heart knocked against her ribs and her body swelled with anticipation. She flat-out loved it when he took charge.
She thought he might try to rip her pants off, but he ignored them. Instead, he bent down to nestle his face into the crook of her neck and shoulder. His lips caressed her skin when he spoke.
“You’re beautiful.”
She smiled. “We’re not going to go through that again, are we?”
He laughed, and she squirmed when he skimmed his tongue over her shoulder. “We will if you don’t believe me.”
He cupped her breast and flicked his thumb across her nipple.
“I believe I can be completely uninhibited with you,” she said. “That I don’t have to hold anything back.”
He grumbled against her collar bone. “You better not.”
“Oh, god,” she moaned as he sucked the tender spots on her neck. “I can’t hold back. I don’t want to.”
His lips curved against her skin as he continued to torment her. Her head fell back to give him as much access as he wanted. She blissed out on the clean and powerful sensations coursing through her.
Garrick worked his way along her skin with his mouth, his lips, then teased down over her chest and lingered on one nipple. He tortured it until she cried out, the sensitive bud hardened to the point of pain. She squirmed, telling him with wordless moans and frantic movements that she was ready for more. Ready for anything.
Arching her back and forcing her breast up into the wet heat of his mouth drew a grumble of pleasure from Garrick, but nothing seemed able to make him hurry. She reached for his cock, sliding her hand under his body, but he danced his hips away. When he moved onto the other nipple and showered it with the same exquisite attention, she gave up, threaded her fingers through his hair, and just held on.
The tug of his lips drew a line from nipple to clit. His hand on her hip stilled her thrashing and she groaned. God, he was killing her.
He left her breasts with a tender kiss to each tip before embarking on a slow exploration of her ribs. Her navel. Her tummy.
Each touch of his mouth warmed her, his departure leaving a cool bloom of pleasure when the air reached it. Every brush of his fingers sent beautiful licks of desire along her skin.
One large hand slid beneath her, and with a tug, her yoga pants and panties were peeled away. She’d been ready to divest herself of the damn things the moment she’d hit the bed, but somehow he’d lulled her. Now she waited, content to let him lead at whatever pace. Patience had already proven to have its own reward.
For the first time since his lips had brushed her neck, he left her. Cold air tickled her skin. She opened her eyes to find Garrick staring down at her.
He took his time with this, too, and she let him. A flash of shyness nipped at her as she lay exposed on the bed in the bright light of the bedside lamp, but she fought it back. A woman would have to be blind and crazy not to appreciate the look in his eyes as they traveled the length of her.
She felt beautiful.
He had convinced her after all.
He focused on his hands as he cupped her feet, slid his palms over her ankles and calves and up the outsides of her legs, seemingly determined to touch every inch of her. For one glorious moment, he hesitated, bringing his face close and inhaling deeply as his fingers hovered on her hips. She thought he might stop to taste her. The shine on her thighs and curls made her need obvious. She groaned with resigned delight when he slipped by, his chin barely brushing her hip before he buried his nose in the dip of her waist.
He stroked her flanks, gentling her, while his lips trailed over skin she’d had no idea could be so highly erogenous. Her ribs, the inside of her elbow, the side of her breast. He brushed his face against her in a thousand places, rolling her, urging her to lift her hands over her head and let him have his way.
Everything melted away. Every worry about what was to come of her altercation with Bobby. Every concern she’d ever had about being intimate with a player on her team. Every insecure thought she’d ever had about her sexual desires, her sexual demands. None of it mattered. There was only here. Now.
She gave herself over to Garrick. Wholeheartedly.
Savannah wasn’t sure how long she hung suspended in the web of arousal Garrick wove. She felt flushed and swollen all over. Her thighs were slick, her nipples hard peaks stabbing the cold air. She let him move her however he wished, acquiescing to his gentle demands—a touch to her thigh, a tap on her hip.
His hot tongue traced a line from her navel south, and she moaned, long and low, the needy sound cut off by a desperate whimper when he pushed her legs apart, lifting her knees and spreading her open to him.
She came almost the moment his tongue flicked across her clit, thrust from languid satisfaction to pulsing ecstasy in the blink of an eye. Fisting her hands in the sheets, she arched her back and yelled his name.
“Garrick!”
Waves of pleasure crashed over her, having hovered on her shore for so long, now unleashed in a relentless tide. She writhed and he took her higher, his tongue unyielding as it worked the hood, the bundle of nerves beneath.
She plunged back to earth with a gasp when he drove two thick fingers deep into her pussy. Her body vibrating, she joyously relinquished the peak to start the climb once more.
She panted, overwhelmed. She could do nothing but thrust against his tongue and hand. She held her legs higher so he could reach anything and everything he wanted. Everything she wanted.
He must have understood, sensed her plea, as soon the rough pad of one finger traced over the tightly clenched muscles of her anus. Too quickly it was gone.
She whimpered shamelessly, trying to find the words to encourage him but too incoherent and inexperienced to know what to ask. She’d always been curious but had never dared. If she’d been too loud, too out of control with plain old missionary sex, what would happen if her fantasies came true
and she got to experience things she’d only dreamed about?
But Garrick wouldn’t mind. Hell, he’d love it if she lost her mind at his hand. His mouth on her clit, his fingers in her pussy—it was all good. But she wanted more, and here with Garrick, it was safe to have it.
The finger returned, brushing over the tight knot of muscles. She jolted at its stroke, even as she hummed her approval. Her mind swirled, confused by the cold licking at her skin, then it clicked. Lube.
Around and around, the cool touch edged her hole—her focus, her desire, so singular that she hardly noticed his continued efforts elsewhere. She wanted to ask him what she should do, what he needed from her, but he stopped again.
She groaned with frustration, the sound cut short with a hiccup of shock and pleasure when the pressure returned, firmer this time, a fresh chill to his touch as his finger slowly eased into her body.
“Oh my god!” she cried.
He immediately stopped.
“No! Keep going. God, don’t stop.” He pushed harder, stretching and filling her, and she sobbed out her pleasure. “God, Garrick. Yes. Yes, please!”
Garrick was close to shooting his load from no more than the uncontrollable twitch of his hips. His cock brushing nothing but air as he stood between Savannah’s splayed thighs at the side of his bed.
He’d asked for uninhibited. Begged for it. But the reality of Savannah coming unhinged nearly buckled his knees.
Sucking in desperately needed oxygen, he gathered what little control he had left and slid his finger high into her ass. She bucked against him.
“More!”
God, she was perfect.
He thrust his fingers in her pussy and dragged the finger in her ass back out slowly. Soon his hands were in sync, working in tandem, finding a rhythm in spite of the irregular jerk of her hips.
He moved faster, fucked her harder, and sucked her clit into his mouth. She growled and fisted her hand in his hair hard enough to make his eyes water.
He wanted to howl with joy and pent-up desire.
“Garrick! Yes, god, Garrick! It’s too much! Please, just…please!”
Fair Play (Hat Trick, Book 1) Page 13
