Defending the Reaper: A Standalone Steamy Sports Romance (The Playmakers Series Hockey Romances Book 5)

by G. K. Brady

  What? “Couldn’t you turn him in or bring charges?”

  Her eyes found his, and they were wet and filled with heartbreaking sadness. Then she seemed to shake herself out of it, letting out another humorless laugh. “He didn’t do anything illegal because Will was an owner, and he’d given Arturo carte blanche.”

  Dave took her hand in his. It was small and pale, and he wrapped it up like he might an injured bird. “I’m so sorry, Ellie. Have you spoken to Will since it all happened?”

  “Funny you should ask. One day not too long ago, he called to apologize when Arturo wasn’t around. Not to pay me back for the money they stole, which would have been nice,” she chuckled wryly. “He said he’d been feeling bad about what he’d done for the longest time and finally worked up the nerve to call. We ended up talking for an hour, and I think it gave us both closure. I doubt our paths will ever cross again, but I’m glad he’s happy. I never realized how tortured he was. He and Arturo live in Texas, and they started a family.” Another pained look flashed in her blue eyes. “Having kids was something we’d always talked about doing together.”

  Dave’s chest constricted, and twin wants rose up inside him. The first was to fix her world so she didn’t hurt, and, following close behind, was a startling desire to help her get those kids. She’d make a great mom.

  Elbowing the thoughts aside, he swallowed hard. Unsure what to say, he caressed her hand and sighed instead. Casper whimpered at his feet, and he automatically reached down with his free hand and rubbed her ears.

  Ellie shook her head again as if shaking away the bad memories, and he pulled her against him and held her while he stared blankly at the flickering TV. Her stiff body uncoiled, and she snuggled into him. While her soft, warm weight might have been firing up things south of his belt, it occurred to him that what he really wanted was to be the guy who made her face light up like the sun had just crested the horizon. He wanted to be the guy who took care of her, who took away her tears and frowns, who gave her all his affection. The one who earned her secret smiles. She stirred emotions in him that had never been stirred, and he wondered if he could ever go back to where he’d been before he’d met her. And it terrified him.

  The next night, Dave was back on Ellie’s couch, watching his hockey show as she sat beside him. An amazing feat, really, considering it was still snowing outside and he’d braved the blizzard to bring her Chinese takeout. Tonight she wore black jeans and a mulberry sweater with an asymmetrical zipper that Will had given her. Coincidence? Maybe not, considering how much she’d been thinking of him since her reveal to Dave the night before.

  At first, the familiar stabs of anger, humiliation, and incomprehension had twisted into a knot of hurt as the vivid scene replayed itself in her mind’s eye, and the same old question had tumbled inside her brain. How could she not have recognized the signs in a man she loved and thought she knew so well? “Don’t be so hard on yourself, El,” Will had said during their cathartic phone call. “I had it well buried, and I’d fought against it for so long that I had myself fooled. Arturo helped me understand who I really was, and I was only just coming to terms myself, so how could you have known? I wasn’t rejecting you.” Maybe not, but it stung like rejection nonetheless. Hearing Arturo had helped Will discover who he really was still made Ellie bristle. On some level, she couldn’t help thinking Arturo was the supreme thief: he’d stolen her husband and her money. On calmer reflection, though, she understood Will would have eventually left her, and she hadn’t lied when she’d told Dave she was happy for him.

  And honestly? While she and Dave might be nursing a “fledgling affair” that would eventually crash and burn, he’d shown her how different a “good sex life” could be. Sex with him was insane, mind-blowing, and she’d never felt so feminine and alive, like some primal part of the man in him was speaking directly to the primal woman in her. You couldn’t fake that stuff, and that’s just what Will had done. She could see it now.

  Dave side-eyed her. “I can practically hear your gears grinding. What are you thinking about?”

  Startled back to the couch, she recovered quickly. “I’ve been thinking about last night.”

  “You mean when I woke you up with—”

  Tickles erupted in her tummy. Yep, his man definitely had a straight line of communication to her woman. “No, no. Well, yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too.” Kinda hard not to with that wicked tongue of yours. She bounced her eyebrows and grinned. “But seriously, I’ve thought about your dilemma with Gage Nelson. What if you just acted like you would if he were willing to meet you halfway?”

  “Kinda hard when the guy won’t—”

  “Hear me out. What if you used the same determination you used to get my boxed dinner? From what I’ve seen, you’re the kind of guy who, when he decides he wants something, goes after it. Period.”

  His eyes lit with amusement. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. It’s this scary look you get in your eyes that says, ‘Get out of my way!’” She narrowed her eyes for effect.

  He craned his head and peered at her. “When have you seen me get this look? Besides at the auction?”

  “Um, afterward, when we were in bed?” Her cheeks heated.

  His lips quirked as if he were fighting a grin. “My look says ‘Get out of my way’? Shit, I’ll have to work on that. That’s definitely not the message I’m trying to broadcast. It’s more like, ‘Get in my way, please.’ Or are you saying I’m scary in bed now?”

  She let fly a laugh, and sweet relief went with it. Just like that, Will and some of her self-doubts were in the rearview mirror, where they belonged. “No, that didn’t come out right. And I meant scary good, not scary.”

  He let out a guffaw. “Damn, what can I say to that?”

  “How about, ‘My male ego and I thank you for the lovely compliment, Ellie, and yes, we’d love to escort you to Paige Miller’s cocktail party.’” She tilted her head to one side.

  Now he frowned. “I have to look at my calendar. There might be a game that night.”

  “And if there is, you can join me after.” She flashed him her brightest smile.

  “All right. I’ll think about it. And speaking of games—”

  “We were?”

  He dropped his head and gave her a charging-bull look. He was good at those. “And speaking of games,” he repeated loudly, “do you want to come to my game tomorrow night? I know it’s last minute, but it’d be fun to have you there. I should be able to get tickets for you and Finn.”

  “Better include Sonoma in that. I have a feeling they’re going to be joined at the hip. Have you heard from her since the big event, by the way?”

  “Just a quick text saying she got home okay. You?”

  “About the same from Finn.”

  “Joined at the hip,” they both said at once and laughed.

  Dave relaxed back into the cushions, and Casper stood on her hind legs, her front paws on his knee, a hopeful look in her big brown eyes. Her entire body quivered as she whimpered. “Aw, come here, pretty girl,” he crooned in his baritone timbre. Then he hooked an arm around Ellie’s neck and dragged her on top of him.

  She started laughing and couldn’t stop. “Casper thinks you were talking to her!”

  “Nope. Not this time. You were whimpering louder than she was.”

  Ellie arranged herself on his lap. “I was not whimpering. I don’t whimper.”

  “Were too. And you know what?” He tweaked her hair. “It’s really sexy.” His eyes landed on her zipper. “I’ve been wondering all night what’s under this.” A quick tug and her sweater fell open, exposing her bra. He sucked in a breath. “Ooh, nice.”

  “Stop it!” she laughed and quickly zipped herself back up. “Aren’t you supposed to be going home so you can get some beauty sleep?”

  “What? You going to send me off into the cold, dark night and let my poor body get battered by the storm of the century? On an empty stomach? Cruel,” he tsked and teas
ed her zipper again, sliding it up and down an inch or two.

  She held on to the zipper tab. “How can you be hungry?”

  His tongue darted out and swiped his lips as he contemplated her. Then he shrugged. “I’m a growing boy.”

  Yeah, something was growing … in his lap. Under her butt. She scrambled off him before she could throw herself at him. “Popcorn?”

  “Love popcorn. And I’ll change from hockey. What do you want to watch?” he called after her as she retreated to the kitchen.

  “Hallmark Channel,” she called back.

  “God no, pleeaaase!” he cried.

  She chuckled to herself as she melted butter and threw two bags of popcorn in the microwave. Lordy, she could have melted the butter on her skin. Between last night’s fun and games in bed and him acting all hot and man-adorable just now, he’d set her nerves on fire and heated her blood so it was like a running river of lava. She wet a paper towel and pressed it to her face and neck to cool herself down. Phew! Get yourself under control, El. Yep, no one had ever made her feel this way.

  When she returned, she set the bowl of popcorn on the table, where Dave had propped his feet again. He reclined on the couch, hands clasped behind his head, and frowned at the TV where, yes, the Hallmark Channel was on. “So these two are in a cook-off and they’re gonna somehow go all gushy on each other and live happily ever after?”

  “Where’s your romantic side?”

  “Come a little closer, and I’ll show you my romantic side.” He waggled his eyebrows. Of course he did.

  “We don’t have to watch this. I was kidding,” she said. He ignored her, not budging, so she began clambering over his legs. He lifted a knee, trapping her, and she paused and put her hands on her hips. “Excuse me.”

  A gleam lit his eyes. “You’re excused.”

  She waved her hand over his body. “Uh, could you maybe move?”

  Lightning quick, he pulled her down so she straddled his lap again, and she let out a squeal. His hands anchored her hips, and his eyes raked her. His lips curled in a wolfish smile. “You’re cute when you boss me around.”

  She feigned outrage. “Cute? And I’m not bossy.”

  “Yeah, you are. And you whimper.”

  She folded her arms across her chest and hmphed. He peeled them away. “C’mon, cutie. Boss me around.”

  “No,” she laughed. “I thought you were hungry.”

  “I am.” With another swift move, he flipped her on her back and pinned her hands above her head with one big hand. Then he sank his heavy body on top of hers and started a slow assault on her collarbone with his moist mouth. “If you won’t boss me around, then I’m going to boss you around … and make you whimper,” he whispered.

  Tingles of anticipation down low fanned out and raced over her belly, up her chest to her scalp, puckering her skin. “Ooh … uh … um …” God, that felt good. Relishing the feel of his warm, soft lips moving over her skin, the weight of him on top of her, she closed her eyes and let out a little moan.

  “You were saying?” he mumbled against her throat. His free hand returned to her zipper, and he pulled it down, slowly, slowly, until he worked it free and opened the sweater. He feathered his fingers along her side, over her ribs, causing goose bumps to erupt.

  “Can’t … say … much …” She bit her lower lip. “Mmm …”

  Despite the thick fabric of his denim fly, she could feel the outline of his heavy erection pressing against her. “God, you drive me nuts when you make those noises,” he said all low and gravelly, his breathing growing shallower.

  She wanted to get her hands on him, feel his solid strength through his shirt, but he clamped down harder when she tried to wiggle her hands free. Arching into him, she wrapped a leg around his hip, digging her heel into his ass. “Thought you were going to boss me around,” she breathed.

  His soft hair brushed her neck, her cheek, as he worked his way across her jaw to her ear. Suddenly, he lifted his torso and braced his weight on one arm. His eyes darkened and glittered like deep mountain pools, and that sly smile curved his full mouth. “Since you insist … Take everything off from your waist up.”

  The heat in his eyes shot straight to her core, stoking the fire there into a conflagration. She giggled nervously. “How am I supposed to do that when I can’t move my hands?”

  He released her and sat up, hauling her up with him. Kneeling on the couch beside him, she grew emboldened by the hunger and intensity in his eyes. She was the puck again, and he was coming after her, no holds barred, but she was determined to torment him for a little while. Still on her knees, she scooted back and languidly pulled her sweater off her shoulder as if she were in slow-mo. His heated gaze dipped to the bare skin she was revealing one tortuous inch at a time. She repeated the striptease with the other shoulder, finally pulling the sweater off her arms and dropping it on the floor. He reached out, grazing his fingertips over her ribs as he traced them.

  She shimmied away and wagged her finger. “You can look, but you can’t touch. Yet.” Guess I am bossy. With a pained expression, he thudded the back of his head against the couch, though he kept his eyes pinned on her. Slowly, she slid a strap down her arm. His eyes followed her movement then cut back to her sheer bra. She could have sworn his pupils dilated. He let out a gratifyingly low groan that seemed to rumble through him. She’d never done anything like this in her life, and she was enjoying the hell out of herself.

  Down came the other strap. She paused a moment before reaching back and unfastening the clasp. The bra hung there, and she didn’t move. Just let gravity pull the straps another tantalizing inch down her arms. He sat up abruptly, eyes still locked on her reveal. As she let the bra fall, she said in a throaty whisper, “Is this what you wanted?”

  “Fuck!” he growled. “You are … a work of art.” His voice was rough, strained. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Touching now.”

  She lifted her hair and crossed her arms over her head like an old-time pinup model, bowing her back and practically offering her bare breasts to him on a platter. She hooded her eyes and gave him a smile she hoped was seductive.

  Calloused fingers skimmed over her flesh, lightly, reverently, spreading chills over her bare skin. His gaze darted between her tautening nipples and her face. He explored her with his fingers and eyes. “So gorgeous, Ellie,” he murmured. “Like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

  He teased her nipples with his thumbs, ran the tips of his fingers along the underside of her breasts, then palmed them, shooting more shivers over her chest, her shoulders, and down her back. Her eyes fluttered closed for an instant, and a whimper rose up in her throat. God, she did sound like Casper! His hand glided over her abdomen and wrapped around her waist to pull her closer. He dipped his head and traced a slow circle around one nipple with the tip of his tongue, then the other. He clamped down softly and sucked her flesh into his hot mouth. Omigod. Her head dropped back, and she wrapped her hands around his head and plowed her fingers through his hair, lost in the sensations.

  His talented mouth kept up its slow torment while his strong fingers held her exactly where he wanted her. Licking, nipping, suckling, grazing over her sensitive skin. Then he latched on and drew her into his mouth hard, the pressure making her gasp. “Oh yes, like that. More.” The words tumbled from her, sounding far away, as though someone else was moaning out the plea. She braced her hands against his shoulders as he continued his intensifying assault. He brushed one hand down her side and popped the button on her jeans, then snaked his fingers under her waistband. She sucked in her stomach to give him more room, but he retreated. His mouth blazed a trail up her chest to her mouth, where he locked on possessively. Meanwhile, his hands made quick work of her fly. She wound her arms around his neck while he continued to own her mouth. A warm, rough hand slipped into her jeans, under her panties, and his finger arrowed to her soaked entrance.

  He groaned into her mouth as first one finger, then another tunneled in
side her, and she gasped when they hit home. “So fucking wet,” he hissed against her lips. Suddenly frustrated by the fabric keeping her from feeling his skin against hers, she unbuttoned his shirt, laying it open so she could run her hands over smooth skin stretched taut over bands of hard muscle. Their tongues danced and dueled as his fingers moved in and out of her. She wanted to climb him, get closer, and she clung to his shoulders while remaining on her knees. They turned watery and buckled when he increased the friction. Arms twined around his back, tongue probing his mouth, she plastered herself to him and let out an “Oh!” when her orgasm took her by surprise.

  He eased his fingers out and cupped her while he trailed a line of hot, wet kisses down her neck. When he bit her shoulder softly, she let out a strangled giggle. His mouth returned to hers, his kisses becoming ravenous, and he pulled off his shirt, pulled her pants down, and laid her back on the couch while he wrestled with his belt and zipper. Soon they were both naked, and he was stretched out on top of her, skin kissing skin, his swollen shaft trapped between their bodies. God, she wanted him inside her, but he seemed intent on making love to her mouth slowly while his hands twined in her hair, then trailed down and tortured her breasts, driving her out of her ever-loving mind.

  She wiggled and writhed underneath him, shifting to line up her entrance with the head of his cock. He pulled back and peered at her, an amused twinkle lighting his eyes. “You’re trying to boss me around again.”

  She let out a frustrated groan. “I want you inside me.”

  “I thought we agreed I was in charge. You gonna throw me that bone and let me at least believe I’m the boss of you for a change, Ms. Britches?”

  She choked out a laugh. “Yes, Captain, my captain, Your Highness, sir.”

  “That’s more like it. But I think I’m going to have to punish you for your insubordination.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  Her eyes widened. “Um …”

  Then his mouth was back on her, moving down her body, making her squirm even more. His big hands gripped her thighs and slid them over his square shoulders, spreading her wide.