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

by G. K. Brady

  “This,” he whispered, then clamped his mouth on her. The onslaught he’d unleashed on her mouth he now unleashed between her legs, starting with the feathery touch of his tongue that soon turned to licking and lashing, sucking and stroking and probing, an exquisite mix of tender and ruthless and gentle and relentless. She tried to buck and escape his mouth, but he held her fast. Her fists balled and pressed into the couch, and she let out a series of sharp cries as one orgasm, then another, crashed over her.

  Casper dashed over and whined, turning in circles, and Dave lifted his head, his eyes round. “What the …?”

  “She … thinks … you’re hurting … me,” Ellie gasped. Her chest heaved, pushing air in and out of her lungs, and everything south of her belly button twitched and tingled.

  Poised between her legs, he hoisted his weight onto his forearms, eyes even rounder. “I’m not, am I?”

  Ellie tossed her head from side to side, trying to catch her breath. “No,” she managed to huff out.

  “Well, this calls for desperate measures,” he rumbled.

  Extricating himself from between Ellie’s knees, he sat on the edge of the couch and scratched Casper’s chin. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Mommy and I were just fooling around. She likes it … I think … and I’m not hurting her. I would never hurt her.” He lifted Casper’s ear, leaned down, and whispered, “I don’t hurt people I love.”

  Ellie glanced at Dave—did he really just say what I think he said?—but he was still petting Casper, who sat on her haunches and wagged. Something warm oozed inside Ellie’s chest and wrapped a warm quilt around her heart.

  Dave continued talking to the dog. “But she and I still have unfinished business, so you’ll excuse us …” He riffled through his jeans and extracted some condoms. Then he grabbed Ellie’s ankles and yanked her toward him, scooped her up like she was a rag doll, tossed her over his shoulder, and stood as though he didn’t have a hundred-and-ten-pound woman slung over his shoulder.

  “Where are you taking me, caveman?” she squeaked.

  “To a cave,” he grunted. “I know there’s one around here somewhere.”

  Dangling over his shoulder, she pinched his ass and laughed as he marched purposefully to her bedroom.

  Oh God, please hurry!

  Chapter 28

  Distractions

  Dave could lecture himself all day long about needing to stay away from Ellie, and tell himself that his only reason for seeing her tonight was to tell her why he needed to stay away. And then go home. No touching, no kissing, no getting all cozy on the couch. No getting naked. But as soon as he’d seen her, spent time with her, he’d grown so relaxed that his brain blanked and he lost track of any good intentions he’d brought with him. In the end, it was a lost cause. Who the fuck was he kidding? This was totally what his scheming mind—and one notoriously single-purposed part of him—intended. As he marched down the hall to her bedroom, her silky hair swinging against his back and tickling his skin, he wondered how long he could hold out once he was finally inside her. This woman had a stranglehold on him, one that drove him out of his effing mind. A danger to his heart’s health, that vague inner voice reminded him. Probably Yoda.

  He paused in the doorway to her bedroom and looked around, taking stock because he hadn’t last night—only the bed had registered. Now he was in no hurry to put her on it because all that smooth skin draped over him felt too fucking good. He took advantage and ran his hands up the backs of her legs and kneaded her ass, dragged a finger through her slickness and made her giggle and gasp. So fucking perfect.

  Now his gaze swept the cozy room again. A bedside lamp illuminated light greens and creams and lavenders, like one would find in a natural landscape. The style was all her. Plus, it smelled like her. Yeah, he could spend time here. A lot of time.

  Ellie squeaked over his shoulder, and he closed the door behind him. His plans included making her scream a whole lot louder, and he didn’t need to upset the poor dog more than he had, for Christ’s sake! A few steps brought him to the edge of the bed, and he slid his naked load from his shoulder and laid her on her back so her head sank into soft pillows. Propping herself up on an elbow, she twirled a spiral of hair around her index finger, seeming to invite him to roam his eyes all over her—which he took full advantage of. If her hot-as-fuck little striptease in the living room hadn’t been proof enough, her current sex-kitten look broadcast that her shyness from last night had completely vanished.

  “You just gonna stand there and stare?” the bold little kitten taunted.

  Holding himself back, he wagged a finger at her and smirked, faking a coolness that was nowhere inside him. He was likely to break out in beads of sweat any second. “Who’s in charge here?” He walked around to the nightstand, eyes glued to the gorgeous creature on the bed, and dropped the condoms while her eyes roved over him. Sexiest damn thing he’d ever seen, and his cock, already rock hard, grew even steelier under her appreciative scrutiny. Or it was showing off.

  He crawled onto the bed and up her body, growling, trying not to laugh, “I said, Who’s. In. Charge?”

  “You are.” Her words came out in a breathless rush, dripping with desire and sucking any humor out of the moment, replacing it with something sinful and lusty.

  “Hands above your head,” he ordered. She complied, and he brushed a few strands from her face and ran his fingertips along her cheek, tracing her cheekbones, her jaw, eventually reaching her mouth, where he outlined her lips. Her tongue darted out and licked. He slid his finger into her mouth, and she closed around it and sucked while her eyes held his. Jesus Christ! He thought he’d come right then and there.

  “Taste yourself?” he near-croaked.

  “Mmm.” Now her tongue was swirling around his finger, and her cheeks hollowed.

  “You taste so fucking sweet.” He added the other finger, and she closed around that one with a moan, fluttering her eyes closed. He was definitely not in charge. No, he was on the verge of losing it, so he slipped his fingers from her mouth and slithered them down her body, sinking them inside her while his mouth sank into a tongue-filled kiss. Her body writhed beneath him, arched into him, and she moaned into his mouth.

  He added a third finger, increasing the friction and tempo, breaking the kiss long enough to say, “Come for me, Ellie. I want to feel you come on my fingers.”

  Her moans grew louder, more desperate, and her face twisted with pure carnal pleasure. She was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Soon she was gasping his name, and he took her mouth again, his tongue thrusting hard and deep as he stole every wonderful sound rising from her throat. When her orgasm finally rippled through her body, he swallowed that too.

  She wrapped herself around him and clung tightly, and he held her and planted soft kisses on her hair and neck until her breathing evened out and her heart stopped slamming against his chest. Then she pulled away and ran her fingers over his beard, his ear, and into his hair. “Wow. Just … wow.” He felt his smile broaden under her deep blue gaze because she was looking at him with unabashed awe, like he was some fucking sex superhero.

  “Wow yourself,” he whispered.

  “I think I like you being in charge.”

  “Well, that’s good because I’m not done yet.”

  She rolled onto her back, her fingers still dancing over his skin. Her peaked pink nipples were there for the taking, and he lowered his head and licked. “Can’t get enough of you, Ellie.” He closed his mouth over one, flicking it with his tongue, and she sank her teeth into his shoulder. His plan to make her come at least twice more before he entered her sailed right out the window. Soon he was on her, his hands splayed over her thighs as he pushed them wide, the tip of his cock sliding along the length of her entrance, inching into her welcoming wetness.

  “Dave!” she gasped and reached for one of the packets on the nightstand. She thrust it at him. “You forgot.”

  No, he didn’t forget. His mind had simply gone missing for a m
oment, filled with an ache to feel her without any barriers, feel himself surrounded by her slick walls, and he’d been about to give in to that ache. He hurriedly rolled the rubber on and sank back into her open arms, back atop her soft body with her pillowy breasts squished against him, back between her parted legs, where he lost himself inside her banked heat with one long, steady thrust. So hot. So wet. So tight.

  He pushed up on his hands, his arms carrying his weight so he could study her as he plunged in and pulled out, in and out, over and over and over. He watched her teeth sink into her lower lip, watched her fingers dig into his forearms, her eyes close, her lips part, her chest rise and fall as her breaths shallowed out, her throat move with each moan and mewl, her hips undulate as they rose to meet his thrusts. A thing of beauty. And when she came, he watched her body seize, watched her eyelids flutter open and her eyes dilate, watched as she hissed out his name.

  He stopped and caught his breath, reeled in his pleasure while she floated down from her own blissful cloud. Then he started back up, grinding against her, plunging harder, deeper, faster, flexing, driving, slamming, watching her expressions transform as he meted out pleasure on a knife’s edge, that fine line between ecstasy and pain. He could feel her stretch around him, feel himself filling her, feel her body quiver as her orgasm built, detonated, and crashed over her. And again he stopped, holding himself back, transfixed by every emotion playing over her beautiful face.

  When he started up again, he hooked her thigh over his shoulder and drove deeper, as if he could reach her very center. Her rising yelps, those fractured gasps and desperate mewls and throaty moans surrounded him like music, growing louder, crescendoing as he hammered home, drilling into her, a relentless pile driver pounding over and over and over. White-hot lightning bolted down his spine and exploded low, racing through him, blanking his mind so he only saw bursts of light, flashes of fire. He spent himself inside her in wave after wave. Exquisite, searing, all-consuming.

  He collapsed on top of her, and as his lucid mind returned to itself, he realized he’d entwined his fingers with hers. But more than fingers, his soul was entwined, and he understood what it meant to be addicted. If it were possible, she was in his blood, and he was already fixed on when he could have her again. How many times would be enough? He feared he already knew the answer. Never.

  The team played a decent game. Not their best effort, but they managed a check mark in the win column, and in the end, that’s what counted. But Dave’s real reward was waiting. Ellie had been at the game with Finn and Sonoma, and his eyes had wandered to her more times than they should have. Playing it cool hadn’t come as easily as he’d imagined it would, but he’d managed to keep a lid on it. Barely.

  Flexing his hand, Dave smiled to himself as he wandered into a fog of thoughts about Ellie and the night before. Not just the sex, which had been fucking phenomenal, but the talking in between. The hanging out and eating popcorn. The cuddling on the couch and Ellie falling asleep curled against his chest. Letting Casper hop up in his lap when Ellie wasn’t looking. Waking up at the ass crack of dawn when Ellie stirred in his arms. When she made him breakfast and kissed him good-bye on her way to work, leaving him and Casper to clean up the kitchen.

  Sweet. So sweet.

  “Hey, your hand okay, Cap?” T.J.’s voice startled Dave from where he stood staring at his name plaque on his stall.

  He stopped flexing. “Yeah, all good. Doc just wants me to stretch it now and again.” Not the truth, but not exactly a lie either.

  “Well, I figured it might still be bothering you when you made that beauty tape-to-tape pass to the other team.” T.J. chortled and shook his head. “I was trying to make excuses for you, man.”

  Dave smirked, hiding the fact T.J.’s innocent tease stung. “I can make my own, thanks.”

  While most of Dave’s teammates gave him a wide berth, Quinn, Viktor, and a few other guys ribbed him good-naturedly, and he gave it right back. He wasn’t the only one who’d flubbed tonight. Despite the sore subject, the joking felt good. As they filed out of the dressing room, most of the guys tossed him a “good night”—they always did—but no one invited him to join them for a late meal at one of the local restaurants. Didn’t matter, he told himself. He already had plans to eat with Ellie, Sonoma, and Finn, but it would have been nice to be included by the guys like they used to do. Guys had facetiously accused him of “holding court” at those dinners, which was utter bullshit, but the respect had fed his self-confidence nonetheless. He wanted that back, and his inner Han railed at his teammates.

  As he strode from the locker room, last man out, his phone pinged. Expecting a text from Ellie, he glanced down and stopped.

  Bobby: How’s the hand holding up?

  Dave: Why do you ask?

  Bobby: Looked like you were struggling a little tonight. Just remember I’m here.

  Dave stared at the screen. His hand seemed to throb a little more than it had a minute before, and he once again pondered how quickly the recovery would go if he gave in to Bobby’s couched offer. Testing is infrequent and predictable now. I could do it and no one would know. And my hand would feel so much better.

  He dragged a hand over his jaw before tapping in his reply. Thanks, man. I’m good.

  Bobby: You know how to find me. Remember, you ain’t getting any younger.

  Sliding the phone in his pocket, Dave puffed out a breath. A few more strides and his eyes landed on Ellie waiting with Sonoma and Finn in the family and friends area. Everything’s okay now. She turned and arched her eyebrows as he approached. Kiss her? Not kiss her? Few people still milled around, but he opted for cool and casual and merely offered her a “hey” before greeting Sonoma and Finn.

  “Wow! Look at Mr. Reaper all dressed up.” Ellie’s eyes traveled over him appreciatively.

  “They’re supposed to dress up whenever they arrive or leave the arena,” Sonoma explained.

  Finn chuckled. “Dude, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were someone else.”

  Dave gave him a friendly chin lift while flipping him off. He shrugged his gear bag. “Ready to grab something to eat?”

  They all said they were, with Ellie adding, “I imagine you’re starved.”

  “Always.” He grinned and grabbed her hand with his good one. “You riding with me?”

  She gave him a shy smile. “If that’s okay.”

  “That’s perfect.” He stopped on the way out to greet a few fans and sign autographs while Ellie stepped into the background and watched.

  “I hope you didn’t mind about the fans,” he said afterward as he led her to the GTO.

  “Not at all. It’s your job.” Her eyes went wide when they landed on the GTO, and he tried not to chuckle. “Even if I did mind, you brought the GTO, so all would be forgiven.”

  “I brought it just for you.”

  After he settled her in the passenger seat, he stowed his bag, pulled off his tie, and slid behind the wheel. Her eyes roamed over the interior of the car with obvious reverence, so he fired up the engine and gave it an extra rev. Her fingertips reached toward the dash, then retracted, as if she were afraid to touch anything. He resisted the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss the daylights out of her. Instead, he said, “It’s okay to touch. You won’t break anything.”

  She folded her hands in her lap. “No, I’m good. I do think you could use some fuzzy dice, though.”

  “And a hula girl on the dash.”

  “One of those spring-loaded jobbies that swivels her hips?”

  “No, a real hula girl swiveling her hips. Might make driving a little challenging, though.” He laughed when she swatted his arm.

  On the way to dinner, the only subject they discussed was the car, how he’d found it, what he’d done to restore it, and other vintage cars he’d owned or wanted to own. At dinner, the four of them merely glossed over the usual topic—hockey—covering instead subjects ranging from spy planes to growing water lilies. He couldn’t remember
being so relaxed after a game.

  When dinner was cleared away, when they’d agreed he’d take her home, when they’d said good night to Finn and Sonoma, and when they were finally seated in the GTO, he leaned across the bench seat, wrapped his hand around her nape, and pulled her in for a kiss. “I’ve been thinking about that ever since I laid eyes on you tonight.”

  She smiled at him. “Well, now you’ve got it out of your system.”

  Not a chance.

  They reached her house way too soon, and on the short walk up to her door, he tried to come up with an excuse to linger. “Would it be okay if I came in and got my Casper fix?” Until I can figure out how to finagle my Ellie fix?

  “Sure. I think she needs her Dave fix too,” she said on a laugh as she let them inside. Said ghost dog hopped straight up as though she had pogo sticks for legs, then proceeded to wag her way around his pants legs.

  Ellie’s hands flew to her cheeks. “Oh no! She’ll get dog hair all over your suit pants!”

  Dave bent to pet the dog. “No worries. I’ll just take my pants off.” He stood upright with a grin, and Ellie gawked at him before breaking into laughter.

  “I thought you were serious!”

  He began unbuckling his belt. “I am serious.” He let the belt and pants drop and pool around his socks and shoes. She laughed louder. “Doing wonders for my ego here,” he chuckled.

  “It’s just that … I mean, you’re all dressed up, except for your pants … and then hello! There are your hairy legs.”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “Give you any ideas?”

  “Yeah. Can I get a selfie with you like that? I’m a big fan, you know.” She batted her eyelashes at him.

  “Haha.” He snagged her arm and pulled her in close, tangling a hand in her hair. “What other ideas does it give you?”

  Her small hands ran under his jacket, radiating heat through his shirt. She pushed the coat off his shoulders. Then her hands cupped his face, pulling him in for a kiss, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth while her eyes searched his. The tip of her tongue danced out and teased his lips. He opened immediately, but she pulled away and moved to his ear, breathing, “I can think of a few things.” She nipped his earlobe, then his neck.