She grinned. “Right. Anyway, since then, she’s been different. Not that she wasn’t a pain in the ass before, but for the past two years, she’s been little more to me than the roommate who pays the bills.”
And here Rhian had thought it wasn’t possible for him to hate his mother any more than he had already. “I’m sorry.”
It was Chelsea’s turn to wave it away. “Hell, it’s probably a blessing. I got the worst of it to stop by threatening to tell Grandfather. Now she’s afraid of me, which infuriates her, but keeps her in check.”
“Does she know I’m here?”
“I don’t think so. I didn’t tell her jack shit, I promise, and I doubt she had someone look you up after I did.”
Rhian hardly flinched. “Okay. Let’s not tell her.”
“Agreed.”
“And Buddy?”
Chelsea sighed. “In a fit of absolute stupidity, I told him about you. He must have figured out who you were when he saw you that night. We do kinda look alike.”
“Just a little,” Rhian said with a smile.
“I don’t think he has any idea who you are, or what you do, but if he comes near you, tell me.”
Rhian didn’t like the idea of Chelsea locking horns with that ugly bastard. “Don’t put yourself at risk for me.”
“There’s no risk. I’ll just threaten to go to Grandfather. Buddy won’t do anything to hurt Mom or put his trust fund at risk.”
“Would your grandfather even care?”
“Care? He’d flip his fucking lid. I’ve almost told him a hundred times, but I couldn’t. He’d never forgive her, which I don’t really give a shit about, but I don’t think he’d ever forgive himself either. He’d be devastated that she’d left you. That he had a grandchild he didn’t know about.”
“Maybe he’s better off not knowing then. Is he frail?”
“Grandfather?” Chelsea laughed, a big sound that shook her whole body. “God, no. He’s going to outlive us all. Still plays golf, tennis, racquetball, and rows out on the Charles.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, I think you probably got your athleticism from him. I love Robbie, but his idea of exercise is bringing his phone to his ear.”
Rhian laughed, then sobered. “Please don’t tell him either.”
“Robbie?”
“No. Well, yes. Or your grandfather.”
She nodded. “I won’t.”
He must have looked uncertain, because she rushed to reassure him. “Look, if I’d found you in some hovel, destitute, I would have told him two years ago. But by the time my guy caught up with you, you were in the Juniors and being scouted by some big teams.”
Rhian grinned at her detailed knowledge of the sport and his career. She and her investigator were certainly thorough.
“Since you seemed to be doing all right, I left it alone and promised that once I was free of the witch, I’d figure out a way to introduce myself.”
“Which you did.”
“Well, all I did was stalk you. I was so shocked when you moved to Boston, I wasn’t sure what to do. I wasn’t ready, you know?”
Rhian shrugged. “I hope you’re ready now.”
She cocked her head. “Does that mean you’ll talk to me again?”
Shockingly, he was looking forward to it. For all they’d known each other for less than an hour, he had something with Chelsea he’d never felt for another human being on earth.
Kinship.
Her hand grasped his. “I get it. I feel it, too.”
Rhian stared at her for a long time, terrified and elated. He changed the subject before he embarrassed himself. “The guy who grabbed you the other night. Buddy?”
“Yeah. Our brother the sociopath.”
“So he takes after mom.”
Chelsea laughed. “You do remember her.”
Rhian’s smirk faded. “Yeah. I do.”
“God, Rhian, I’m so sorry.” She wilted in her seat.
He shrugged and twirled his empty cup. Chelsea’s phone buzzed in her pocket, not for the first time. She silenced it without looking.
“Do you need to get that?” he asked.
“No.” It immediately buzzed again. She sighed and pulled it out. She managed to enter a text of biblical proportions and hit send in under twenty seconds. The reply was almost instant. She sighed again. “I’m sorry. I do have to go soon. I was supposed to meet some friends a few minutes after we bumped into each other. They’re getting worried after I hung up on them like that.”
“I understand. I’m glad you have people looking out for you.”
She glanced meaningfully at Garrick and Savannah. “I’m glad you do, too.”
He smiled.
For a long time, they just looked at each other. His sister. It was weird. But not all bad. She asked for his number and he rattled it off while she entered it into her phone under the name Savannah. “Just to be safe.”
He was unaccountably proud that his sister was so damn clever.
His phone vibrated. “I just sent you a text, so you have my number, too.”
He had a way to reach her. It kind of freaked him out.
“Well, I should go,” she said.
Rhian nodded and she stood. Garrick and Savannah immediately rose and cut through the crowd.
“Wait.” God, am I really going to ask this?
She looked at him curiously.
“What’s my name?”
Chelsea’s brows knit with confusion. “What?”
He swallowed. “On my birth certificate. You mentioned a middle name. I don’t even know if my first name was Rhian.”
Chelsea went pale, her big blue eyes enormous in her face. “It is Ryan. Spelled the common way. Ryan Robert Williams.”
Garrick clasped his shoulder. Savannah rubbed his back. They were trying to ground him. And damned if it didn’t work.
He smiled at Chelsea. “Thank you.”
Chapter Thirty Five
Savannah sat at the island in their kitchen and stared at the massive piles of paperwork scattered around Garrick’s laptop. He was working more hours than ever, though without the signs of strain that had been evident while he’d been in Moncton. He slept like a baby—usually after a shattering orgasm—and took long runs with her and Rhian. She was relieved to see him happy and healthy, but it weighed on all their minds that at some point, he was going to have to go back. Even if only for a few days.
She needed him here. At least until they were sure Rhian wasn’t going to bolt. Their threesome was coming together, but the glue was still drying and she didn’t think it would work if any of them had to leave before it set.
Just when the hell that would be, she had no fucking idea.
Nor was she certain what had to happen to make it stick. She sighed into her coffee. Knowing where the hell Rhian would end up next season would be a big help. It wouldn’t change how she felt or her plans for the future, but Rhian always had one foot out the door, sure that it was only a matter of time before he landed in some city far, far from here.
One bright spot on the horizon was Chelsea. She and Rhian had texted and planned to get together for another coffee. Savannah was looking forward to getting to know Chelsea. But more than that, Savannah was happy for Rhian. He seemed to be adapting to the idea of having a sibling with remarkable ease. It no doubt helped that Chelsea was another victim of her mother’s incapacity to actually mother anyone.
And Chelsea created another connection between Rhian and Boston. Another reason to visit, to stay. To make this place his home. Because even if he was traded to Timbuktu, he’d have to spend the off-season somewhere. And come hell or high water, Savannah and Garrick were going to convince him the best place to spend it was with them.
Rhian’s phone rattled against the hard granite and she fished it from the pile of devices charging on the counter. Since Garrick’s arrival, they’d banished all phones and iPads from the bedroom, ensuring their attention was where it should be. On each ot
her.
It took her a moment to recognize the three digit exchange for Dana Farber Hospital on the screen.
Ripping the cable away, she ran down the hallway, sliding her finger across the screen to answer it before it could go to voicemail. She flew across the bedroom and landed on the bed, half on top of Garrick, who fortunately was awake enough to protect his sensitive bits. She thrust the phone at Rhian.
He took it and pressed it to his ear with a curious look for her.
“Hello?”
Rhian’s stomach plunged when he heard the familiar voice on the other end of the phone.
“Mr. Savage? This is Dr. Kantov.”
“Hello, Dr. Kantov,” he croaked.
Savannah whispered in Garrick’s ear and then they curled around him. Garrick dragged him back against the warmth of Garrick’s broad chest, while Savannah tucked into his side.
“I’m calling with good news,” Dr. Kantov offered.
“Good news?” Now his voice was three octaves higher than usual.
Arms tightened all around him. He tilted the phone from his ear so Savannah and Garrick could hear.
“Your lump is something called a sertoli non-germ cell tumor. It’s quite rare, but, happily, also completely benign. I can refer you to a surgeon who can go over the benefits of removal, but in the meantime, you don’t have anything to worry about. You do not have cancer.”
Rhian laughed. And laughed. He couldn’t stop. He was drunk with relief.
He managed to thank the doctor and, with Savannah’s help, write down the diagnosis, the name of the surgeon, and how to contact her.
The moment he hung up the phone, it was ripped out of his hands. His breath left him in a gasping chuckle as two bodies tackled him to the bed.
Hot mouths attacked his neck, his face, capturing his mouth before showering their affection and relief all over his face, neck and chest. He lay there, stunned, hearing the laughter but hardly recognizing it as his own.
The lump was benign. He didn’t have cancer.
The gentle caress of fingers over his increasingly full and tight balls jarred him out of his stupor. He was healthy. Strong.
And it was time to celebrate. He considered jumping up and down on the bed, screaming like an idiot, but that lacked a certain dignity. He decided to make Garrick scream like an idiot instead.
With a twist, he flipped over and pinned Garrick onto his back on the bed.
He grinned down into Garrick’s happy, smiling eyes. “I want to fuck you.”
Garrick’s mouth fell open, and his eyes darkened from cinnamon to chocolate. “Okay,” Garrick said, his voice rough.
Was it really that simple? For the life of him, Rhian couldn’t figure out why the hell he hadn’t done this before.
He turned to Savannah and found her kneeling beside them, a bottle of lube in her hand.
“You must have been a Girl Scout.”
She held up three fingers and grinned. “Be prepared is a great motto. Don’t you think so, Garrick?”
Rhian laughed, but Garrick just stared up them, his cheeks pink, his breathing already faster. “Huh?”
She leaned down to whisper in Garrick’s ear. “Are you ready to be prepared?”
Pink cheeks turned red. Garrick swallowed, his cock a steel spike against Rhian’s belly. “Yes.”
Rhian jumped off Garrick and grabbed his hips. With a single heave, he flipped him over and planted him on his knees.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Rhian,” Garrick gasped.
Savannah laughed and crawled around to sit facing Garrick. “Look at you.” She ran the backs of her fingers down Garrick’s face. “You like it when he takes control.”
Garrick nodded. Rhian grinned and spread Garrick’s knees wider. Garrick gasped again.
“I do, too,” she confessed.
Garrick groaned and arched his back, tipping his ass up to Rhian.
Savannah’s smile turned wicked. “Just wait until he’s in you, Garrick. The strength. The power. You’re going to love it.”
A thin sheen of sweat glowed on Garrick’s skin, his ribs heaving with each deeply drawn breath, and Rhian hadn’t even touched him yet. God, Garrick wanted it.
Rhian grabbed the lube, all the while scolding himself for being a selfish bastard. He was now achingly aware of how little he’d instigated sex, or any kind of affection or intimacy. With Garrick or Savannah. Garrick’s body pleaded for his touch, his hoarse words confirming what was so evident in every line of his body. His face.
He needed this.
From Rhian.
Rhian swore he would spend the rest of the day, week, month, making it up to both of them for having held back. He didn’t believe the three of them were going to be a long-term thing—while he increasingly suspected they did—but he had agreed to stay, for now. And while he was here, he would commit fully. Be an equal partner. Act.
He traced his slick finger down the valley of Garrick’s ass, watching shivers race over his skin. He paused over the dusky skin around Garrick’s hole and circled gently. Muscles fluttered beneath his touch. Rhian slid one finger into unbelievably tight heat.
Garrick groaned, long and loud, his head dropping to hang from his shoulders and rest in Savannah’s lap. Rhian pumped his hand, thrusting easily as Garrick readily accepted him and pushed back for more. Rhian slipped a second finger in beside the first.
Garrick groaned almost continuously. God, he was going to be ready too quickly, and Rhian wanted to take his time. Savor it. He slowed, careful not to graze Garrick’s prostate.
Rhian remembered how he’d hesitated a week ago when Savannah had brought out a new butt plug and waved it in Garrick’s direction. Garrick had been more than willing, but even witnessing Garrick’s high color and wicked smile when Savannah had thrust it home, hadn’t snapped Rhian out of his selfishness.
Garrick had never asked for it. And given that Garrick was generally such a pushy bastard, Rhian had let himself go along, never questioning it. He was an idiot.
Leaning over Garrick’s back, he rubbed his mouth across the nape of Garrick’s neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t do this months ago.”
Garrick’s head lifted and his eyes slowly peeled open to look at Rhian. Rhian couldn’t resist scissoring his fingers, watching those eyes flare before narrowing. “I didn’t think you wanted to.”
“I wanted to.” He put every ounce of love, trust, and honesty he could into three little words.
They held still, sharing a long look while Rhian applied steady pressure to quickly loosening muscles.
Savannah’s fingers trailed down Rhian’s cheek, then Garrick’s. She gazed at them the same way—with the same warmth and desire. Rhian realized it was the same for him. He felt for her just as he did for Garrick.
Maybe it showed on his face—the love or the terror—because Savannah leaned forward and kissed him just as Garrick turned his head to do the same. They ended up in another three-way kiss. They were getting the hang of these things, though it was still messy. And hot.
He began to pump his arm again and Garrick departed the kiss with a gasp, shoving his ass back on Rhian’s fingers. Rhian grinned down at Savannah and sat up to return his focus to the task at hand.
Garrick clamped a hand around Savannah’s thigh and dragged her closer. She laughed as she fell to her back on the bed, her legs spread, her knees framing Garrick’s head.
He trailed kisses along her thigh.
“What are you doing?” Savannah cried.
Garrick chuckled. “It’s called oral sex. I have it on good authority you’re familiar with the concept.”
Rhian laughed at Garrick quoting him from the night he’d arrived in Boston. The night Rhian had known he was in way over his head and hadn’t run anyway. More remarkably, he didn’t regret it. Not right then. Not even a little.
He tapped a third finger against Garrick’s tight muscles, gently massaging them, before wedging past the barrier and deep into Garrick’s ass.
Garrick jerked, a shudder racking his body, and looked back at Rhian. Rhian could get lost in those warm, brown eyes.
“Please.”
Oh god. Garrick was begging. Garrick loved it when he or Savannah begged, but Rhian hadn’t fully understood why until now.
“Soon.”
He enjoyed Garrick’s frustrated growl almost as much as the thrill of being in control. He wondered if Garrick realized how much trouble he was in for, now that Rhian had a taste for it.
Garrick tried to regulate his breathing and focus on Savannah. His throat ached from the rush of air heaving in and out of his lungs and the sounds he choked back as Rhian stretched him open.
The burn felt good. Great. But that wasn’t what made him want to howl with joy. It was the determined look on Rhian’s face. The way he took complete command over Garrick.
This was a different Rhian. The one Garrick had been trying to find for months. The man Garrick had known was trapped behind countless worries and a bone-deep belief that he didn’t truly belong in Garrick’s bed. In Garrick.
He shivered when Rhian’s finger brushed his prostate. He tried to give his balls a yank but his hand was slapped away. Then Rhian’s hand was there, holding tight. Forcing his orgasm back. Fuck.
Weak as a baby, Garrick could barely hold himself up on one elbow as he kissed a path across Savannah’s belly. He teased her with one finger, barely flicking it over her clit, watching how she alternately stared up at Rhian and down into Garrick’s face. He could tell by her smile she saw the change in Rhian, too. And was enjoying it as much as he was.
On a particularly big stretch, Garrick grunted.
Okay, maybe she wasn’t enjoying quite as much as he was.
Garrick drew little circles around her clit, picking up speed. He loved how her smile wobbled and she blinked, focusing on him. Her eyes narrowed and her hips bucked, begging for more, but he held back until she was keening for it.
“Garrick, please!”
He eased one finger into her tight channel. “Better?”
“No!”
He chuckled, locked his lips over her clit and sucked it into his mouth. She shivered beneath him. She was closer than he’d guessed, and he happily pushed her over the edge with a series of pulsing sucks that had her back arching from the bed, her voice echoing off the walls and ceiling as she climaxed.
The Hat Trick Box Set Page 67
