Fair Play (Hat Trick, Book 1) (13 page)

“It wasn’t a date. I’m trying to find as much dirt as I can
on the Kramers.”

Savannah cocked her head at him. “Why?”

He sighed. “Damned if I know. I guess I’m hoping I can prove
they’re running a sports book and that Bobby is messing with the games. Maybe I
can get the league to block the deal.”

He shrugged. His half-baked plan sounded stupid out loud.

“Can I help?” she asked.

“Sure. I learned a lot from Melissa tonight. You want to
come in for some coffee and I’ll tell you what I know?”

He let go a deep breath of relief when she shut off the
engine and pulled the key from the ignition.

He helped her out of the car and kept hold of her hand as he
towed her up the porch steps and to the front door. She looked around. He
smiled when she shifted her weight back and forth and made the porch plank
creak.

“It was built in 1859,” he said.

She nodded and followed him through the front door. A rush
of satisfaction surged through him when her eyes widened upon seeing the
restored foyer and staircase. “It’s in wonderful shape.”

“Thanks.”

“You did it?”

“Sure. I had to have something to do on the off season aside
from work Dad’s farm and babysit my sister’s kids.”

“It’s lovely. I like how you didn’t change things.”

He laughed. “I tried to stick to the classic design, though
sometimes I wonder why.” He made a show of having to hang her coat sideway and wrestle
the tiny front hall closet’s door shut. “Come on back. I’ll make some coffee
and you can be suitably appalled at how updated the kitchen is.”

His spine tingled in response to her husky laugh as she
trailed behind him through the dining room and into the kitchen. She ran her
hand over the green granite counter tops before reaching up to touch the glass-front
cabinet.

Then she looked at him as if she’d never seen him before. He
stood still under her regard. He hoped she’d been expecting a bachelor pad
condo and found the antique farmhouse more to her liking.

Her green eyes glowed and the warmth of the house was
returning the pink to her cheeks. His arms twitched with the need to hold her.

 “Here, I’ll get that coffee.” He turned to the kettle.

A hand on his back stilled him. “No.”

He turned back to her. “You don’t want coffee? I have tea or
hot cocoa, if you’d rather.”

She stepped closer and dragged the thick elastic from her
hair, letting it cascade down over her shoulders. “No, thank you.”

His pulse sped up and his jeans got considerably tighter.

He gulped. “What
do
you want?”

“You.”

Garrick’s eyes darkened to chocolate. Savannah loved how honest
he was with his reactions. It was exactly what he demanded from her. She
understood why now.

He never hid anything, was never ashamed of the truth.

God, she wanted to rip his clothes off.

Before she could do just that, he was there, yanking her up
against him as his mouth locked on hers.

Her tongue met his as he thrust between her lips. Her moan
echoed his as his large hand on her ass brought her belly against the hard
ridge under his fly. She ground against him, desperate for his touch. His
taste.

For the first time in hours, she forgot the feeling of
Bobby’s hand on her chest, the sight of his flaccid cock. Now, at last, she
felt clean. Whole.
Normal.

She wrapped her arms around Garrick’s neck and held on for
dear life. Her fingers burrowed through his thick hair as she kissed him back,
trying to communicate her relief, her passion.

The world tilted and she tore her lips from his with an
undignified squeak. She was cradled against his chest and he was already charging
through the dining room and mounting the stairs.

She briefly considered insisting he not carry her. His bad hip,
his pulled groin—she was an athletic five feet ten inches…
ah, fuck it
. Who
was she kidding? She was enjoying the hell out of it.

He practically ran the length of the upstairs hallway. Through
a door at the front of the house they entered a large master bedroom and
sitting area. She glimpsed an en suite bathroom the size of her apartment,
before he tossed her onto the huge four-poster bed.

Garrick shucked his shirt and reached for the button on his
jeans before she’d finished bouncing.

She smiled. Excellent. They were on the same page.

She couldn’t get out of her pullover fast enough. The sports
bra followed, and her sneakers sailed through the air as she toed them off. She
never wanted to wear the things Bobby had touched again. She might just burn
them in the large fireplace she’d seen from the foyer if Garrick would lend her
a shirt to get home.

Bare from the waist up, she looked up at Garrick standing
beside the bed, stark naked.

God, he was gorgeous.

He clamped a hand around her ankle and dragged her to the
edge of the bed. Her heart knocked against her ribs and her body swelled with
anticipation. She flat-out loved it when he took charge.

She thought he might try to rip her pants off, but he
ignored them. Instead, he bent down to nestle his face into the crook of her
neck and shoulder. His lips caressed her skin when he spoke.

“You’re beautiful.”

She smiled. “We’re not going to go through that again, are
we?”

He laughed, and she squirmed when he skimmed his tongue over
her shoulder. “We will if you don’t believe me.”

He cupped her breast and flicked his thumb across her
nipple.

“I believe I can be completely uninhibited with you,” she said.
“That I don’t have to hold anything back.”

He grumbled against her collar bone. “You better not.”

“Oh, god,” she moaned as he sucked the tender spots on her
neck. “I can’t hold back. I don’t want to.”

His lips curved against her skin as he continued to torment
her. Her head fell back to give him as much access as he wanted. She blissed
out on the clean and powerful sensations coursing through her.

Garrick worked his way along her skin with his mouth, his
lips, then teased down over her chest and lingered on one nipple. He tortured it
until she cried out, the sensitive bud hardened to the point of pain. She
squirmed, telling him with wordless moans and frantic movements that she was
ready for more. Ready for anything.

Arching her back and forcing her breast up into the wet heat
of his mouth drew a grumble of pleasure from Garrick, but nothing seemed able
to make him hurry. She reached for his cock, sliding her hand under his body,
but he danced his hips away. When he moved onto the other nipple and showered
it with the same exquisite attention, she gave up, threaded her fingers through
his hair, and just held on.

The tug of his lips drew a line from nipple to clit. His
hand on her hip stilled her thrashing and she groaned. God, he was killing her.

He left her breasts with a tender kiss to each tip before
embarking on a slow exploration of her ribs. Her navel. Her tummy.

Each touch of his mouth warmed her, his departure leaving a
cool bloom of pleasure when the air reached it. Every brush of his fingers sent
beautiful licks of desire along her skin.

One large hand slid beneath her, and with a tug, her yoga
pants and panties were peeled away. She’d been ready to divest herself of the
damn things the moment she’d hit the bed, but somehow he’d lulled her. Now she
waited, content to let him lead at whatever pace. Patience had already proven
to have its own reward.

For the first time since his lips had brushed her neck, he
left her. Cold air tickled her skin. She opened her eyes to find Garrick
staring down at her.

He took his time with this, too, and she let him. A flash of
shyness nipped at her as she lay exposed on the bed in the bright light of the
bedside lamp, but she fought it back. A woman would have to be blind and crazy
not to appreciate the look in his eyes as they traveled the length of her.

She felt beautiful.

He had convinced her after all.

He focused on his hands as he cupped her feet, slid his
palms over her ankles and calves and up the outsides of her legs, seemingly
determined to touch every inch of her. For one glorious moment, he hesitated,
bringing his face close and inhaling deeply as his fingers hovered on her hips.
She thought he might stop to taste her. The shine on her thighs and curls made
her need obvious. She groaned with resigned delight when he slipped by, his
chin barely brushing her hip before he buried his nose in the dip of her waist.

He stroked her flanks, gentling her, while his lips trailed over
skin she’d had no idea could be so highly erogenous. Her ribs, the inside of
her elbow, the side of her breast. He brushed his face against her in a
thousand places, rolling her, urging her to lift her hands over her head and
let him have his way.

Everything melted away. Every worry about what was to come
of her altercation with Bobby. Every concern she’d ever had about being intimate
with a player on her team. Every insecure thought she’d ever had about her
sexual desires, her sexual demands. None of it mattered. There was only here.
Now.

She gave herself over to Garrick. Wholeheartedly.

Savannah wasn’t sure how long she hung suspended in the web
of arousal Garrick wove. She felt flushed and swollen all over. Her thighs were
slick, her nipples hard peaks stabbing the cold air. She let him move her
however he wished, acquiescing to his gentle demands—a touch to her thigh, a
tap on her hip.

His hot tongue traced a line from her navel south, and she
moaned, long and low, the needy sound cut off by a desperate whimper when he
pushed her legs apart, lifting her knees and spreading her open to him.

She came almost the moment his tongue flicked across her
clit, thrust from languid satisfaction to pulsing ecstasy in the blink of an
eye. Fisting her hands in the sheets, she arched her back and yelled his name.

“Garrick!”

Waves of pleasure crashed over her, having hovered on her
shore for so long, now unleashed in a relentless tide. She writhed and he took
her higher, his tongue unyielding as it worked the hood, the bundle of nerves
beneath.

She plunged back to earth with a gasp when he drove two
thick fingers deep into her pussy. Her body vibrating, she joyously
relinquished the peak to start the climb once more.

She panted, overwhelmed. She could do nothing but thrust
against his tongue and hand. She held her legs higher so he could reach
anything and everything he wanted. Everything
she
wanted.

He must have understood, sensed her plea, as soon the rough
pad of one finger traced over the tightly clenched muscles of her anus. Too
quickly it was gone.

She whimpered shamelessly, trying to find the words to
encourage him but too incoherent and inexperienced to know what to ask. She’d
always been curious but had never dared. If she’d been too loud, too out of
control with plain old missionary sex, what would happen if her fantasies came true
and she got to experience things she’d only dreamed about?

But Garrick wouldn’t mind. Hell, he’d love it if she lost
her mind at his hand. His mouth on her clit, his fingers in her pussy—it was
all good. But she wanted
more,
and here with Garrick, it was safe to
have it.

The finger returned, brushing over the tight knot of muscles.
She jolted at its stroke, even as she hummed her approval. Her mind swirled,
confused by the cold licking at her skin, then it clicked.
Lube.

Around and around, the cool touch edged her hole—her focus,
her desire, so singular that she hardly noticed his continued efforts elsewhere.
She wanted to ask him what she should do, what he needed from her, but he
stopped again.

She groaned with frustration, the sound cut short with a
hiccup of shock and pleasure when the pressure returned, firmer this time, a
fresh chill to his touch as his finger slowly eased into her body.

“Oh my god!” she cried.

He immediately stopped.

“No! Keep going. God, don’t stop.” He pushed harder,
stretching and filling her, and she sobbed out her pleasure. “God, Garrick. Yes.
Yes, please!”

Garrick was close to shooting his load from no more than the
uncontrollable twitch of his hips. His cock brushing nothing but air as he
stood between Savannah’s splayed thighs at the side of his bed.

He’d asked for uninhibited. Begged for it. But the reality
of Savannah coming unhinged nearly buckled his knees.

Sucking in desperately needed oxygen, he gathered what
little control he had left and slid his finger high into her ass. She bucked
against him.

“
More
!”

God, she was perfect.

He thrust his fingers in her pussy and dragged the finger in
her ass back out slowly. Soon his hands were in sync, working in tandem,
finding a rhythm in spite of the irregular jerk of her hips.

He moved faster, fucked her harder, and sucked her clit into
his mouth. She growled and fisted her hand in his hair hard enough to make his
eyes water.

He wanted to howl with joy and pent-up desire.

“Garrick! Yes, god, Garrick! It’s too much! Please, just…
please
!”

She was gorgeous, her eyes sightless while her body thrashed
around on his bed. With a keening cry, she screwed her eyes shut and came, her
back arching high off the bed.

“
Garrick
!”

It had become his life’s mission to hear her scream his name.

He sucked her clit harder, forced his fingers higher and marveled
at the tight clench of muscles clamping down on him. He was light-headed with
his need. He had to fuck her.
Now.

He slid his fingers from her body and eased her back down
onto the bed. A final nip to her clit made her entire body jerk. He was so
lightheaded with need he almost dumped his bedside drawer onto the floor before
he tossed its contents onto the bed beside them.

He tore a foil packet open with his teeth and cursed his
shaking hands. The latex was barely rolled into place before he crawled over
Savannah’s limp body and looked down into her face.

She opened her eyes, her green gaze vague, her little smile deeply
satisfied. Deeply satisfying. He watched her face carefully as he slowly eased
his aching cock into her tight, hot pussy.

Relief and desire roared through him. Her mouth opened in a
perfect “oh” as he slid home. Arms trembling, he held himself above her,
perfectly still, and tried to give her time to adjust to his size. In truth, he
needed that moment to grapple with the onslaught of sensations.

She undulated beneath him, wrapped her knees around his hips,
and let him notch that last magical centimeter deeper into her body.

He shuddered, fighting for control, certain he was going to
lose it as she drew him in for a scorching kiss. He wasn’t sure when he started
to move, his nervous system overrun as Savannah thrust her tongue in his mouth.
She pulled him closer until his chest pressed to hers and they touched
everywhere, not a sliver of light or space between them. His hips rocked
against hers. Her hips rolled up to meet his.

He wanted to have a long, slow, hot fuck with Savannah. Someday.
This wasn’t going to be it.

He slid his hand down her side, cupped her ass in his hand
and forced it up against him as he ground down into her. His face buried against
her silky hair and soft skin, the last of his control slipped from his grasp.

Within two thrusts, he was snapping his hips with more force
and speed than finesse, pounding her into the mattress. His pelvic bone shoved against
her clit with every push. Her legs refused to allow a full retreat, but gave him
enough room to run the length of his cock along her gripping walls.

His balls tightened, and the tingle at the base of his spine
foretold the unavoidable conclusion. The masochist and the hedonist wanted it
to go on forever. The realist thought if he didn’t come soon, he’d have a
stroke.

He used the last of his strength to throw his hips forward
harder, and nudged the end of her passage. She made a startled sound and her
limbs convulsed around him.

“Oh my god! Again!” she gasped.

The clamp of muscles dragging over his cock undid him. With
an incoherent shout, he buried himself in her heat and the lightening unleashed,
rising up out of his balls and storming his entire body with every racking pulse.
His eyes slammed shut and stars danced behind his lids. His body shook as the
clench of Savannah’s muscles urged him to give until he was breathless from the
pleasure.