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

by G. K. Brady

  He wasted no time corralling her hands and getting his lips on the sensitive spot at the base of her neck. “What does it look like I’m doing? Someone wants to show you how happy he is to see you again.” Now he worked his way up to her ear, spending extra time on the other sensitive spots he was becoming so intimately acquainted with. Her body turned pliant in his arms, and she let out a breathless sigh as she gave herself over to him.

  “Better call your boss and tell her you’ll be late,” he murmured as he teased her skin with his tongue. She smelled and tasted so fucking good, and he couldn’t get enough.

  He unclasped the bra. “So pretty. But it has to come off.” Then he slid the panties down her legs, off her ankles. “These too.” Now his mouth and hands were all over her.

  A husky laugh rose in her throat. “You’re going to undo the shower I just took.”

  “I’ll help you get squeaky clean again. Promise. Least I can do.”

  Her mock protests faded, replaced by breathy mewls and pants that fired his blood and strangled all conscious thought. Before he knew what he was doing, he was inside her, plowing into her, his balls constricting.

  Her nails dug into his arms. “Dave!” she rasped. “Condom?”

  Shit! He’d lost his mind again. While thoughts of why this had happened with only her mingled with thoughts of asking her to go on the pill and how selfish that was, he swiped a condom from the nightstand, tore it open, rolled it on, and sank back inside her with an extended guttural grunt.

  Heaven.

  Home.

  Dave was as good as his word, getting Ellie thoroughly clean in her tiny, barely maneuverable shower after their wild morning lovemaking session. That session rekindled in said shower, no doubt because of its very cramped space. She wasn’t complaining; far from it. She loved the feel of his hard-angled body against hers, all that touchable skin stretched over layers of solidly packed muscle. Strength and power, barely leashed when he held himself back for her, then completely unleashed when he let himself go. Roughness tempered by the exquisite gentleness of his giving, moist mouth and his inquisitive fingers that made her stomach dance and her blood sing. She grew light-headed and a little hot just thinking about it.

  Part of her wondered—but didn’t want to know—if he was this voracious with all his bed partners … and if he normally forgot protection. If they were going to keep seeing each other, maybe she should consider going on the pill. No, El, you’re getting way ahead of yourself.

  After she got dressed, completely this time, she followed her nose to the smell of breakfast wafting from her kitchen. Dave was coaxing poached eggs onto buttered wheat toast beside strips of bacon. His eyes flicked up, and he smiled. “Hungry?” No growly Wookiees today. “I hope you don’t mind that I raided your fridge.” One-handed, he pulled out a chair for her while adoring Casper sat oh-so-properly and oh-so-hopeful at his feet.

  “I don’t mind. Especially not if it’s to fix me breakfast.”

  “Yeah, well, I think I just about wiped you out. We need to get you more food.”

  Planning on staying? The thought had her tummy executing somersaults.

  He attacked his breakfast like he’d attacked her in bed—with single purpose and primal abandon. It was kinda sexy. Halfway through the meal, he pulled his nose out of his food, glanced at her half-full plate, then at her. “No like?”

  She shook herself back to breakfast. “No, I like. Just lost in thought, I guess.”

  His head dipped back down. “About?” He shoveled another forkful of toast and gooey egg in his mouth.

  “Just wondering about … Are you usually like this with …?” Shit, El! Really? Just blurt it out there.

  He straightened and put his fork down. “Like what with what?”

  She felt a hot flush creep up her neck and engulf her face. No doubt she was covered in bright pink splotches. “Do you normally make breakfast for the women you sleep with?”

  He rocked backward, looking utterly stunned, before seeming to compose himself and pick up his fork. One eyebrow lowered, and he pointed the fork at her. “Exactly how many women do you think I’m sleeping with?”

  Shoving her hands under her thighs, she looked around the room. Damn spiderwebs! Where do the little buggers hang out? Maybe this weekend—

  “Ellie?” Dave’s intense stare bored into her.

  Her attempt at a shoulder shrug came out as a jerk. “You’re a single, professional athlete who can get whomever he wants.” This she said as if it explained everything.

  A squall seemed to brew in his hazel eyes. “Therefore I screw anything and everything that moves?” He dropped his fork again and sat back with a sigh. “If I were that guy, why would you even date me? You’re better than that. Besides, I definitely do not get whomever I want.” He fired her a pointed look.

  She bit down on her lower lip.

  “Not all professional athletes”—he used air quotes on the last two words—“are the same. And frankly, when I’m around you, I forget what I do for a living. Which is one of the reasons I like being around you.”

  She raised her eyes to his. “So you haven’t been with anyone since you and Nicole broke up?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  Lancets to the heart. Why did it bother her? “Oh.” Before she could stop herself, she said, “How many?”

  He arched a thick eyebrow. “Why do you want to know? I don’t want to know how many you’ve been with. That’s why I’m not asking. I’m happy to stay in my ignorant bubble.”

  Jealousy? A tiny thrill shimmied up her spine, but it couldn’t counterbalance the question she’d put out there. “More than six?” She cringed inside. Please say no, please say no.

  He chuffed out a laugh. “Wow. No. Way less than six.”

  She held up all five fingers on her right hand. “How many less than six?” Stubborn, her dad called her. Yeah, a chip off the old engine block.

  “I don’t even tell my cousin this shit.” Dave darted his eyes to the ceiling, sighed, then slid them back to her. “One. Way too much alcohol and someone I already … knew. Happy?”

  “A fuck buddy, then.” Her casual tone belied the roiling in her gut.

  “Not exactly a fuck buddy, no. I think to qualify as a fuck buddy, you have sex on some kind of regular basis. ‘Momentary weakness’ or ‘lapse in judgment’ would be the more appropriate label.” He stared at her for a beat. Yeah, she was an idiot. “How did we get here, and can we please be done with this very uncomfortable conversation?”

  For some unfathomable reason, she grew bolder—or stupider—still. “Did you have many ‘lapses in judgment’ when you were with Nicole?”

  Now he looked offended. “Of course not! I’m not that guy. I had zilch. Zero. Nada.” He made an O out of his hand. “I date one at a time.”

  “Is that what we’re doing? Dating?” She let her curiosity bubble up in her voice. “I guess I’m just wondering what you expect from this. From me. If anything.”

  “I’m not expecting a damn thing. I hope we enjoy any time we spend together. So far, that’s been the case.”

  Not the most reassuring words he could have used, which told her what her heart needed to know: she could tread where she dared but should not get any lofty hopes this relationship would advance beyond the casual phase. “I do like hanging out with you,” she said almost as an afterthought as she tried to sort his muddled signals and her muddled emotions.

  Now the hazel storm subsided into something akin to calm waters with mischief sparkling in them. “You like hanging with me even when I’m a certifiable asshole?”

  More than you’ll ever know. God, she wished he didn’t make her feel the way he did. Like she was special and beautiful and desirable. A temptation he couldn’t resist. Like she had the power to lure the softhearted, playful guy out of the irascible bear whenever she wanted. But instead of telling him so, she gave him an eye-roll. “Good point. That’s not your most charming side.”

  �
�Well, that’s encouraging. At least you think I have a charming side.” He fingered the edge of his paper napkin. “Now that I think about it, I haven’t taken you out on a real date, have I?”

  Relieved to be out of the quicksand she’d shuttled them into, she grinned. “Box socials don’t count? Or dinners after Habitat projects or games?”

  He leaned forward and lowered his voice to a sexy growl. “No, they don’t. When I say date, I mean you and me alone, not surrounded by twenty of our closest friends.”

  “Kind of like in the bedroom?” Her eyebrows bounced in what she hoped was a seductive manner.

  He chuckled. God, she loved that dark, delicious sound drumming in his chest. “While that may be an end game, I’m talking about the part beforehand where we talk over good food we don’t cook and a great bottle of wine we don’t open or pour. And no, I’m not doing that with anyone but you at the moment.”

  At the moment. Why did the qualification unsettle her? She nodded and dipped her gaze to her eggs, hating that rubber-band snap of insecurity. Shields up. She needed to know the score so she didn’t sink too far in the deep end, alone. And one more burning question needed answering because things still didn’t add up.

  Tilting his head, he peered at her. “Why do I feel like I’m missing something?”

  She cleared her throat and hurled herself at that question. “The last few times, we’ve started without protection, and the one time you almost—”

  He startled her when he stood, came to her, and pulled her out of her seat and into his arms. “I’m sorry, Ellie. That’s me being selfish. I love how you feel, how you fit around me.” Oh. Totally throwing me off again here. He pulled back and gathered her hair into a loose ponytail at the back of her neck. Ooh, that felt good. “That’s no excuse, I know,” he continued. “It shouldn’t have happened. I guess you make me lose my mind. I’ve never done that with anyone else. I promise I’ll be more careful, okay?”

  She gave him a dazed look. So confusing. At least there’s more great sex in my near future. Yeah, that. Kind of addictive stuff. Would she ever find another man who did to her in bed what this man did? Damn. She was already in the deep end with weights attached to her ankles.

  He pressed her back to his hard chest, and she rested her hand and cheek against it, relishing the solid thumping of his heart. Focus on the good stuff. He’s never done that with anyone else. A pleased blush swarmed her cheeks, and she felt her own pulse evening out after its turbulent pace during their conversation. What had gotten into her anyway, going down the treacherous road she’d just traveled? Self-protection, plain and simple.

  No more stupid questions, El. Just don’t get too close. Breathe him in and enjoy him while it lasts, whatever “it” turns out to be.

  Chapter 32

  The Skating Santa

  Dave was running late when he pulled up to Sonoma’s apartment building and killed the Mercedes’s engine. Consequently, he didn’t check the caller ID when his phone rang, or he would have let it go to voicemail.

  “Hello?”

  “Dave! I can’t believe I caught you!” Nicky gushed.

  Shit, was she drunk? He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. I just wanted to call and see what you were doing for Christmas.”

  “Uh, hanging with friends.” One friend. Though he could have been hanging with more because, lo and behold, he’d gotten invites from Quinn and T.J., or rather their wives, who wanted Ellie to join them. Never ones to shy away from saying what they thought, both Natalie and Sarah had told him how much more they “liked” him when Ellie was around. Apparently, his curmudgeon-o-meter settled into tolerable levels when he was with her. No surprise there. But he wasn’t about to share. No, having Ellie and Casper to himself was all the Christmas he wanted.

  “Oh really? Which friends?”

  Dave bristled. Why did she think this was her business? “Nobody you know. Why?”

  She paused, and he expected her to press further, but she hmphed instead. “I have a gift for you I wanted to bring by.”

  A gift? Oh shit. “That’s nice, Nick, but you don’t need to—”

  “I want to, Dave. Please. Don’t be a Grinch and take away my fun.” He could hear the pout in her voice.

  He blew out a breath. “All right.” Shit. Now I need to get her and Isaac something.

  “I know what you’re thinking, and I won’t complain if you get me something, but I don’t want you getting anything for Isaac.”

  Huh? “Not even a video game?”

  “It just confuses him. You’re not in his life right now, and he’s been doing so well with his dad. Let’s leave it that way.”

  Dave wasn’t sure whether or not to be offended, but then he realized it wasn’t about him. And if Isaac did better without Dave in his life, he had no business upsetting the family dynamic. “I’ll be home until about eleven on Christmas Eve,” he finally said. “But I’ve got a game the night before and—”

  “I know, Dave. I used to live with you, remember? I won’t wake you up before nine. Although I remember a time you didn’t mind me waking you up early.” Her voice had gone all husky, and a few shivers clawed down his spine.

  Long time ago, Nicky. “Yeah, okay. But text first.”

  “Why? Afraid I’ll catch you in a compromising position?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s—”

  “Just teasing! Lighten up.” She giggled. “See you in a few days, handsome.”

  Handsome? What the actual fuck? he grumbled to himself after she hung up.

  A half hour later, he and Sonoma were dodging shoppers in front of the boutiques at Cherry Creek North—one more reason he hated Christmas shopping. Usually, he just bought family everything on their Amazon wish lists and skipped the congestion, but not this year.

  “So you’re taking Ellie on a date where? And on Christmas?” Sonoma’s questions had his prickliness on the rise because she reminded him what a lame idea it was. How lame he was.

  “Christmas Eve and Christmas are the only days I have free, and since you were busy with Finn and I promised to take Ellie on a date …”

  The classic Sonoma eye-roll. “So you’re taking her to your garage, then out for dim sum? That’s it?”

  “And a movie, Nome. Don’t forget the movie.” He wagged a playful finger at her right before he opened the door to Oster Jewelers. Once inside, he took in the crowd of customers—mostly frantic men like him—clustered around display cases. “And why are we here, exactly?”

  She waved a queenly hand. “Because I’m brilliant, that’s why.” Then her blue eyes got that crazy gleam that always had him looking for the nearest exit. “Why not replace the necklace Ellie lost the other night? She said it didn’t cost much, so you can get her something personal without going overboard. Keeps you in that safe ‘I like you’ zone.”

  Huh? “She wants a new necklace?”

  Sonoma unwound her scarf and huffed. “Men. Honestly. Why is it we have to bash you guys over the head to notice the important things?” She continued in an exasperated voice. “The pendant she was wearing was a graduation gift from Finn and her other steps. No one found it, and Finn says she’s really upset about it.”

  Why did he not know this? Because Finn was Ellie’s closest friend, not Dave. Oh, and because Dave had been in dick mode that night, which didn’t help him make it to the top of her friends’ list. But this was a problem he could solve, and all of him perked up at the prospect of redemption. Soon they were looking at a collection of necklaces, with Sonoma steering him clear of the ones he liked.

  Her bright burgundy curls bobbed as she argued. “First of all, twenty thousand dollars is way too much to spend. Save the spendy ones for when you’re married and you’ve royally screwed up and need a makeup present to get yourself out of the doghouse.”

  Married? Yeah, right.

  “Ellie’s classy,” Sonoma prattled on. “She likes simple, n
ot gaudy. Something that fits her. She’s small-boned, feminine, not like Nicky, who always had you buying that expensive chunky crap. You don’t hang a five-pound necklace on a dainty woman.”

  Dave bit back his aggravation. The saleslady’s eyes darted between him and Sonoma, and he swore the woman fought a smile. Dainty? Yeah, okay, Sonoma had a point. While she inspected trays in a display case, his eye caught on a delicate chain whose color reminded him of Ellie’s hair. The saleslady noticed, retrieved it, and arranged it on a piece of black velvet. The chain, which was decorated with tiny lustrous beads, looked as though it were tied in a knot, and each of the twin tails ended in a small leaf surrounded by the same beads.

  “Oh, excellent choice,” the clerk cooed. “You say the lady lost something with a leaf motif? This lariat necklace would be a lovely replacement. It’s made of eighteen-carat rose gold and is decorated with seed pearls. Understated yet very elegant.”

  “Ooh, I like that one, Dave.” Sonoma held it up to her neck.

  He nodded his approval. When she laid it back down on the velvet, a picture of Ellie wearing that and nothing else popped into his brain, and his cock sprang to action, on the hunt for Ellie. “I’ll take it,” he near-croaked as he shifted his stance. Now the image made a return appearance, but this time Ellie also wore dangly earrings. “Do you have earrings to go with it?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact we do.” The lady pulled those out of a different case.

  Dangly! “Yep, I want those too.” He began sliding his wallet from his pocket.

  “Oh, and uh, how much is that bracelet?” He pointed to a thick silver bangle with a fat black gemstone, and Sonoma raised a questioning eyebrow he ignored.

  “Seventy-five dollars,” the lady said.

  “Add that too.”

  “For Nicky,” he said to Sonoma when the saleslady left.

  Blue eyes widened. “What? Why?” she practically shrieked.