He kissed her again. She ran her hands through his hair before dragging her fingertips against the first hints of stubble along his jaw. He slipped off her boots, his palm rubbing and warming her arches before skimming back up her legs.
“Oh, that’s good,” she moaned as he massaged one foot.
His grin held more than a hint of the devil. “I’ve never understood foot fetishes. But seeing your face when I do this...” He forced his thumb up into the ball of her foot, right in the spot every high-heeled shoe in the world could make feel bruised and weak. She gasped and arched her back, her eyes narrowing with pain and pleasure.
Garrick shuddered. “That was hot.”
She smiled. “If doing this turns you on, feel free to develop any kind of foot fetish you want.”
He laughed, moving to the other foot and eliciting more moans of ecstasy. When she couldn’t take it any longer, she cupped his face in her hands. She’d hardly leaned forward before he captured her mouth and thrust his tongue past her lips.
The kiss was carnal. God, she’d missed this. Him.
She fisted her hands in his hair and wallowed in his taste and her soaring arousal as he attempted to eat her alive. She tugged the strands tangled in her fingers, making him grunt. She was desperate to feel his skin against hers. Every inch of her body cried out for him.
Tearing her lips from his, she buried her face in the junction of his neck and shoulder and absorbed the scent of pine, lemon, and spice. Garrick.
Hands clumsy, she went to work on the buttons of his shirt. It needed to be gone. All his clothes needed to be gone. She got the shirt open and off his shoulders just as the last button of her jacket sprang free with the help of his nimble fingers. They both shucked their top layer, panting, before their lips came together once more.
It was a challenge to get a man naked when she didn’t want to separate her mouth from his, but damn it, she was going to try. She maneuvered his t-shirt until they only had to back off for a second to pull it up over his face.
Garrick forced her skirt up over her hips and slid his fingers over the tops of her stockings. A determined tug yanked her panties down her legs.
She laughed as her undies flew through the air, then he cupped her ass and hauled her to the edge of the bench. Their bodies would have made contact, finally flush to one another, but she was still wrestling with his damn fly. Stupid jeans. If they didn’t look so goddamn gorgeous on him, hugging his magnificent ass like a lover, she’d burn them.
Now she was pinned, her breasts pressed together between her elbows, her hands slipping into soft denim to cup Garrick’s thick shaft and tight sac through his boxer briefs.
She tugged gently and he gasped. The slow curl of one side of his mouth sent a zing of pleasure right through her.
His lips returned to hers for a peck, then cruised over her cheek, licked and nibbled their way down to her ear, and drew the lobe between his teeth. He sucked the tender flesh with quick pulses before carefully scraping his teeth over it. God, that was exactly what he would do to her clit. Her hips twitched at the memory, the aftershocks of those world-tilting orgasms rising to the surface.
He used his teeth and lips to draw one bra strap over her shoulder and made his way to the soft flesh cupped beneath. She shivered when his soft stubble abraded her nipples before he latched onto the aching peak and sucked it hard. He kissed a path across her chest, over her collar bones, along her shoulder, nuzzling countless places on her body, awakening them.
How does he do that?
With a herculean effort to gather her wits, she ignored his big hands kneading her ass, his lips torturing first one, then the other nipple. She shoved his jeans low on his hips, dragging his underwear with them. The moment his cock sprang free, she wrapped her hands around it and sighed.
Veins tickled her palm as she tugged her hands up and over his shaft. She wasn’t gentle. She wanted him to feel her. The corners of his eyes tightened with every yank under the velvet crown. Yes, this was how he liked it. Just a little rough.
Garrick tore his mouth from her, his chest heaving. “Stop. You have to stop. I don’t want to go yet and…oh shit…”
She smiled. Smug.
He grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away from his body. “Let’s go upstairs.”
Pants barely clinging to his hips, he leaped to his feet and dragged her up from the bench and across the hall. He looked as flushed and needy as she felt. When they reached the bottom of the stairs a few short paces away, he kissed her again. She met him enthusiastically, trapping his erection between their bodies so it traced a warm line of pre-come across her belly. She wished she could lick her own stomach.
Then again, why bother when she could go straight to the source? Upstairs was too freaking far away anyhow.
She shoved him back. Hard. He caught himself a second before his bare ass landed on the third stair. His cock bobbed against his stomach. More pre-come pearled on the tip as she stared down at him hungrily.
She tore her gaze away from so much temptation to stare at his beautiful face. His warm whiskey eyes had transformed to rich dark chocolate. Her pulse thudded in her ears, throbbed in her clit. God, that eye-color-changing thing was sexy. It wasn’t just about sex—it was about emotion. Affection.
Her heart stumbled in her chest even as she fell to her knees on the bottom step and wrapped her lips around the head of his cock. His shout of ecstasy was sweet accompaniment to the bitter splash across her tongue. She closed her eyes in concentration and bliss, tugging his pants down over his knees and forcing his legs apart. She relaxed her jaw and took him as deep as she could, her hand around the remainder of his shaft, and set a steady rhythm. Her tongue lapped at the head with each upward suck, her hand twisted for each downward spiral.
She wanted him wild, shouting her name. She wanted to do to him what he was always doing to her. To turn him inside out.
His hips bucked, his breath heaved. She sucked harder, worked her tongue faster, forcing deep moans from his parted lips.
“Savannah!” His cry was hoarse, almost a question.
She loved the sting of his fingers tangling in her hair, tugging it from the confines of the clip and bracketing her head. The tight clench spoke of his control, and how close he was to losing it. That was what she wanted. Garrick undone.
Running her free hand down her belly, she slid her index finger along her slit and through the thick cream, careful not to bump her clit and distract herself. When she’d gathered enough lubrication, she slipped her hand beneath him and touched her finger against his anus, tracing the warm moisture around his hole before pressing in. No resistance. She eased past the outer ring and deep into his ass.
With a strangled grunt, Garrick went into overdrive. His weight suspended by his elbows on a higher step, he shoved his ass down on her finger then forced his cock up into her mouth. He wouldn’t last much longer at all. She twisted her finger, searching for his prostate. No way he would get through that without emptying himself in her mouth. Down her throat.
It was what she wanted. More than just about anything on earth at that moment.
The last thing on earth Garrick wanted to do at that moment was come in Savannah’s mouth.
“Stop!” He forced his hips back against the stairs, away from her mouth and her questing finger. “No. Stop. Please, Savannah. Stop.”
The please must have gotten through. She lifted her head. Her swollen lips hovering above his straining cock almost undid him. And her finger, still lodged in his ass, wasn’t helping. Jesus.
She was never what he expected. He’d demanded she let herself go, be free with her passion, and still she surprised, delighted, and shocked him every time they touched.
He stared at her glowing face and his chest ached. The image of the Kramers or their goons touching her tore at him, his ribs squeezing painfully, forcing the air from his lungs.
He would stop his inquiries. His stupid investigation. He would let the Kramers ha
ve the Ice Cats before he let anything happen to Savannah. If she didn’t end up in Boston, she’d land somewhere else. Her talent was too great to go untapped for long. But wherever she ended up, that place could not be Moncton. She had to leave and he had to let her go. He had to keep her safe.
Heart pounding, he gently pushed her arm away and unwittingly distracted himself from his worries. Nothing could have stopped the groan of self-inflicted, agonizing frustration as her finger eased from his wildly sensitive hole.
He lay sprawled on his stairs, panting, and tried to regain his focus. He attempted a shaky smile. “No fair, you trying to finish me off. I’m not done with you yet.”
Her shiver delighted him. The goosebumps raced across her arms and flushed chest. He pulled her to him. Kissed her again. Slowly. Thoroughly.
He swallowed past the ache in his chest. He was going to miss her, but she was here now. And she would remember him. If nothing else, he’d do his level best to make sure of that.
She whimpered when he ended their kiss, and he grinned at her bemused expression. Yes, she would remember him.
Jumping to his feet, he forced her back a step before he tackled her. Holding her against his chest, he twisted and they tumbled to the floor, landing with her on top so that he broke her fall. She squealed with laughter but immediately put her hand over his sore hip.
Fuck that. His career in hockey was over as soon as the Kramers took control of the team. It didn’t matter. Certainly not more than this.
He rolled fast and pinned her to the floor. She moaned as his cock jammed up against her slick folds, the head bumping over her swollen clit. Her legs caged his hips. Garrick closed his eyes and counted to ten.
He’d had some vague idea of torturing her the way she had him on the stairs, but her heat, the moisture coating her thighs beckoned him. He couldn’t wait.
Thrusting his hands under her ass, he settled on his knees, lifted her hips clear off the floor, and eased ever so slowly into her. He wanted to take, to thrust and plunge and hurry, but he held back. His arms trembled as he stretched her tight walls, his mind torn between staring at his shaft slipping into her body and watching her face.
With a final urgent shove, his body came up against hers, his balls nestled to her ass.
“Garrick!” She rocked against him. She was beautiful, her face flushed, her eyes ablaze and sightless as she practically purred. “Please, Garrick. Please now. Hard.”
In only three days, he’d somehow forgotten how much he loved this. How it made him a little crazy to hear her demands for more. She’d learned to ask for what she wanted. From him. Of him. She could have it all. He’d deny her nothing.
The thought alone sapped the last of Garrick’s control and he thrust hard and fast, pounding into her, their bodies sounding dull thumps as they crashed together. He wanted to pull her into his body. Keep her there forever, even when he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop wishing for it.
He fell over her and pressed his face to hers. Their noses rubbed. She moaned louder against his lips, in time with his thrusts, as if his cock forced each sound out of her body.
Her orgasm bloomed quickly, and her muscles clamped down on him, yanking the tingle and fire up out of his balls to the base of his spine before it exploded over him. Release snapped his head back and ripped a guttural shout from his chest as lightning flowed down his cock, blinding him to everything but the sensations running over his body and the dull ache in the vicinity of his heart.
Chapter Twenty Two
Savannah climbed out of her car into the bitter wind of the arena parking lot. Mike Erdo waited by the back door. Sighing, she tugged her coat up around her face and jogged toward him. How many more times would she have to go through this routine before she left town? In spite of her now constant escorts and the strain of feeling watched and threatened at every turn, she was going to miss the Ice Cats and Moncton.
Two months ago she’d felt like a visitor. Now she felt entrenched. Which was foolish, of course, because she had to get the hell out of town as soon as possible.
Garrick had told her about Robert Kramer’s threats. In the two weeks since her return from Boston, she hadn’t been alone more than the fifteen minute drive from Garrick’s house to the arena. And often not even then. This morning Garrick had an appointment at the bank that he was being very tight-lipped about, so he’d sent her ahead with the promise that Mike would be waiting. And here he was.
“Good morning, Savannah.”
“Hey, Mike. Thanks for waiting out in the cold. You could have stayed inside.”
Mike glanced back at the glass doors before gazing out over the cars. His eyes narrowed. She fought the urge to look behind her.
“What is it?”
Mike shrugged. “Didn’t recognize the guy or the car. I made sure to wave hello, though. A couple times.”
Savannah smiled weakly. “Thanks.” She held the door for Mike.
He smiled as he walked past. “Don’t mention it.”
He waited patiently while she unlocked her office door, and leaned against the doorjamb once she went in.
“Are you going to work in the gym today?” he asked.
She squashed the pang of irritation at not being able to sit in her office alone for five minutes. It wasn’t Mike’s fault.
She grabbed the files, folders, and pencil box from her desk. “I am if it’s okay with you?”
“Sure. Alexei will be waiting for you so I can go change.”
She was about to protest that she could spend five minutes in the gym with some of the players that weren’t on her personal security detail, but the words faltered when Bobby shoved past Mike and into her office.
The genuinely pleased smile on his face was chilling. “Good morning,” he said. His smirk was more arrogant than usual, which was really saying something.
“Good morning,” she replied, barely keeping her tone civil.
Mike took up position behind her left shoulder. They’d long ago stopped trying to disguise their purpose for hanging around her all the time. At least to Bobby. Bobby eyed him, his disgust plain, before turning his beady eyes and smarmy smile back to her.
“You’re here early.”
Was this an attempt at small talk or was there was a threat hidden in there somewhere? Not for the first time, she wished she’d succeeded in convincing Garrick to continue his investigation into the Kramers. She had to leave Moncton no matter what, but they still didn’t deserve the Ice Cats.
“This is my usual start time, actually.” She sounded remarkably reasonable, considering how badly she wanted to punch this man in the nose.
“Huh. I guess you don’t even have time to watch the news over breakfast, then?”
“Uh, no.” The news? What the fuck is he talking about?
“Too bad. Interesting stuff this morning.”
She gave Bobby a blank stare, but he kept smiling at her. She forced back a shudder of disgust and tried to move things along. “Did you need me for something?”
For a moment, Bobby looked confused, as if he’d forgotten why he’d come to the trainer’s office. Then he traded in his smile for his usual angry sneer.
“Yeah,” he bitched, “my fucking elbow hurts.”
They were back on familiar ground. It was almost a relief. “Did you ice it last night and again this morning?”
Bobby scrunched up his face and rocked his head back and forth. “No, I didn’t ice it last night,” he said in a snotty voice, casting a derisive look at Mike. “Unlike your loser friends, some of us have lives and go out after the games.”
Savannah held her tongue.
Mike felt no such compulsion. “Some of us are professional athletes and take our responsibility to the team seriously.”
Bobby opened his mouth, but Savannah cut him off. “Go ice it and do the stretches. If it’s not better, I’ll adjust your program for today.”
He stared at her, his eyes narrowing. Mike moved closer.
&nb
sp; “I’ll be back.” Bobby stomped toward the door.
Savannah resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Barely. She kept her polite smile fixed in place and waited for Bobby to leave. As soon as he disappeared into the corridor, her shoulders slumped.
Garrick drove into the arena parking lot an hour later, his mind jammed with figures and interest rates and business plans. He was so preoccupied, he almost didn’t notice Rhian slamming out the back door and running toward his car. When Rhian’s headlong charge finally registered, Garrick ditched the SUV in the first spot he came to and leaped from the car.
“What?”
“We’ve got a problem. A big one.”
Rhian was not particularly given to hysteria, so his wide eyes and urgent tone were downright alarming.
Garrick grabbed Rhian’s arm. “Is she okay? What happened?”
“She’s fine. At least, she was when I left her with Alexei a few minutes ago. She’s not going to be for long, though.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Garrick’s blood pressure was reaching critical levels.
“Come on. I’ll show you.”
Garrick sprinted after Rhian into the arena and to the gym, where Mike waited for them, his eyes glued to the TV. Before Garrick could ask, the newscaster spoke.
“Local businessman Robert Kramer and the EHL announced today that he will be the new owner of the Ice Cats. The deal, submitted just weeks ago, has been approved by the league.”
“Fuck.” Garrick’s stomach dropped. Reese hadn’t been able to stall them for long. How the fuck did Kramer get the league to act so fast?
“Maritimes TV went to the streets to see what fans and the players thought of the news…” Garrick tuned out the news program. Rhian and Mike looked at him with pity. He wondered briefly if they were sorry Savannah was leaving or that he was going to be out of a job.
He needed to find Savannah and see if she was okay, but stopped dead in his tracks when he heard Bobby’s voice booming from the television. “Yeah, I’m pretty pleased that the Ice Cats will be owned by a local, especially since it’s my dad.”
Fair Play (Hat Trick, Book 1) Page 19
