Fair Play (Hat Trick, Book 1) (17 page)

She’d cared for lovers before. Heck, she’d been in love with
Doug in college. He’d been a good lover, often generous, sometimes selfish. She’d
been selfish sometimes, too. But Doug had touched her just for the pleasure of
the connection, to simply enjoy the touch.
Hadn’t he?

Sitting there, staring at her corkboard, she couldn’t
remember a time Doug had touched her like that. Nor a time she’d touched him
with nothing more than the need to express her feelings, how she cared for him.
They’d been young. Driving toward release,  maybe even thinking about the next
one after that.

Garrick was different.

Which royally sucked since she had to leave town. Soon. She’d
already arranged to go to Boston next week after they got back from their three-day
road trip.

Some distance would help clear her head. She had to stop her
growing addiction to Garrick before it really took hold. Three days on the road
would help, being in the hotel and not his house. Living with the team and not
just each other. Then Boston. Three days on her own, with no Garrick, no mind-numbing
sex, just her career and future to hold her focus.

Because Bruins or no Bruins, she was leaving Moncton and the
Ice Cats.

And Garrick.

Garrick snapped awake at seven a.m., as was his habit, and
smiled. Savannah lay curled against him, warm and naked in his bed, her head
ducked beneath his chin, her breath a tickle on his chest. She’d slept burrowed
under the covers, snuggled into him, every night for a week.

He was quickly getting used to it. Aw hell, he
was
used
to it.

He’d be a fool to get any more attached. The thought of
Savannah moving away already caused a tug of panic in his chest, and she was
leaving for an interview in Boston in just a few hours. He’d have to learn how
to live without her again.

Not that she was
with
him now. As far as anyone knew,
she slept at her apartment and he in his house. Friends. Work colleagues. Not
lovers.

It was how it had to be but it still rankled. He wanted to
take her to dinner, see a movie, hell, go grocery shopping with her. He wanted
to be
normal
.

He huffed out a silent laugh. That was never going to happen.
Even if he did manage to yank the team from the Kramers’ clutches, there would
be another owner, another manager, another team full of men who might be fooled
into believing the worst of her. And then there were the Bruins. Perversely, he
wanted her to land her dream job, even if it meant she’d be gone for good.

Sighing, he looked down into her face, rubbing his hand
along her smooth back. He wanted to haul her up against him and not let go.

Good god, he was becoming the caveman she’d accused him of
being.

Savannah murmured in her sleep and arched into his touch as
his palm skimmed over her ass. He stopped to rub one cheek, her silky skin warm,
the crease at the top of her thigh too great a temptation for his roaming
fingers.

She blinked up at him. “Good morning.”

Her voice was rough, and he recalled how she’d shrieked for
more as he’d fucked her against the shower wall last night, quick and hard. How
they’d taken that shower to clean up from the long, slow, shattering sex they’d
had in the kitchen after their three-day road trip. He’d only meant to kiss
her, but the next thing they knew she was on the table. Then they both had
ended up there, enjoying a second course of dessert directly from each other’s
bodies.

The sight of whipped cream and chocolate sauce would likely
give him an erection for the rest of his life. He anticipated awkward trips to
Dairy Queen with glee.

 She smiled at him, and he couldn’t resist her sweet lips. Their
kiss was slow, an awakening of body and mind. Arousal built, swirling around
them as they lay facing one another. The scent of her swelling body reached him
from the warm cocoon of covers and tangled limbs. The blood surging into his
cock felt thick and hot, his heartbeat ponderous in his ears.

The perfect way to wake up.

He urged her thigh up over his hip and she hooked it high
against his ribs, opening herself to him.

He drew a finger through her slit, gathering sweet cream on
his finger and delicate moans from her lips. He traced her clit, once, twice. Her
languid movements became jerky, and her hand fisted in his hair.

He pulled her chest to his, enjoying the stab of her hard
nipples against his flushed skin, the press of her soft breasts. He nudged his
hips forward and found her wet heat with his swollen cock.

Shit.
No condom.

He jerked back, sympathizing with her low moan of
disappointment as he groped behind him for the bedside table. Damn it, after a
week he should have known to have one at hand any time they were in the house
together.

She touched his chest, bringing his attention back to her. “I’m
on the Pill. I haven’t had condomless sex in years and have been checked out
more than once since.”

He stared at her, somewhere between shocked and elated.

“Are you sure?”

“Are you safe?” she asked with a gentle smile.

He smiled back. “Very. I’ve never done this before.”

“What?”

“I’ve never had sex without a condom in my life. Ever. Not
with any man or woman. And you know from my physicals that I’m clean.”

She bit her lip. “Are
you
sure?”

He’d never been more certain it was the right time, place,
and person in his life. “Yes. Very.” He kissed her again.

She moaned and rolled her pelvis toward him.

He dragged her against him so their bodies touched from chest
to belly to knee. His tongue delved into every corner of her mouth and surged
his hips forward.  His eyes rolled back in his head as his swollen crown slid
through her silky cream and notched against the entrance of her vagina. He
thrust forward slowly, sinking to the hilt into her hot, tight, welcoming body.

Fuck
.

Their kiss ended with a gasp. Her eyes fluttered open and she
pinned him with her deep green gaze.

“How is that?” she asked with a mischievous twinkle in her
eye.

Words were lost to him, along with the ability to reboot his
now stalled-out brain. She was beautiful. Hot and wet and clenching around him
in torturous pulses. This gift, her trust, was more then he’d expected. He
hadn’t understood. The intimacy was shattering.

He wanted to tell her he would miss her, that he was sorry
she would be gone from his bed, his life, even if just for the next three days.
He had no idea how she’d react to that, and while his brain was scrambled,
there was enough of it still functioning to keep his mouth shut.

He showed her instead with the stroke of his hands and
thrust of his hips. He rocked hard, surging into her again and again, rejoicing
in the hot slide against his skin, the silky drag along her satin walls. He
wanted to imprint himself on her. Make her think of him,
feel
him every
moment she was away.

He drove deep, holding himself there and grinding against
her, his cock pressing her tight walls, his pelvic bone digging against her
clit.

“God, Garrick. Yes!”

She was, as ever, Savannah. Vocal. Demanding. Perfect.

Her hand slid over his hip to his ass, her questing finger
on the hunt. He loved her generosity. Her attention. But he had other plans.

Wriggling away, he pulled his cock from her body. He laughed
at her groan of disappointment. It ended with a sharp grunt when he rolled her
to her tummy.

As soon as he knelt between her thighs, she brought her
knees under her body, lifting her ass into the air. He plunged deep again.

“Fuck!” he cried, shocked by how good it felt. He didn’t
know if he’d ever get used to the sensations running along his cock. She was
tighter at this angle, his shaft running along the front wall of her pussy as
he drove into her in long, hard thrusts.

“Yes, Garrick! Harder!”

He switched to short, sharp shoves that jabbed at her g-spot.
The intensity of that rub on his bare skin, the head of his cock stroking her
soft heat over and over, made his head spin. She threw herself back at him,
begging for more, shouting out her pleasure.

He thrust his hand under a pillow to retrieve the bottle of
lube they’d left there the night before. Fingers unsteady, he popped the lid
and poured some down the smooth crease of her ass. He hissed through his teeth
when it slithered over his cock where their bodies were joined. He used two
fingers to draw some back up, along with her juices, and circle the tight
pucker, listening to her litany of moans and shouts of praise while trying to
maintain his rhythm.

She was close. He could feel it in the clench of her pussy
on his cock, sense it in the jerk of her hips.

He wrapped his hands around her ass, his fingers almost
reaching her hips. Tucking his thumbs against her anus, he tugged her cheeks
apart and pressed in. Her body gave in to his demands, her muscles still pliant
from their play over the past week. Last night. With barely more than a nudge,
both thumbs slid deep into her body.

Savannah buried her face in the comforter and screamed,
shaking with the strength of her climax.

The clamp of her muscles on his cock was unbearable. His
balls drew up close and his spine tingled with the desperate need to come.

He bit his cheek, hard, wishing he had a third hand to yank
his sac from his body and force his orgasm back. The ripples continued to flow
down his shaft, her body milking his, begging for his release. He groaned long
and low as he fought it with every ounce of control he had left to him.

He refused to be dragged over the edge.

Savannah flew over the edge with abandon.

Her face buried in the bedding, she howled as her orgasm
ripped through her. The feeling of Garrick stretching her ass wide while he
fucked her, rubbing over that perfect spot, was too intense. Her heart galloped
in her chest, in her ears, almost drowning out the sound of Garrick’s muttered
curses.

He hadn’t come. Sometimes with a condom she was so
overwrought during her climax that it wasn’t until the first huge waves had
passed that she could tell. But with no condom, she’d been looking forward to the
burn of his come filling her. She
wanted
that.

Ready to make him give it to her, she leaned back into his
grasp, forcing his cock deeper and grinding her hips.

“Fuck, Savannah,” he gasped.

That was the idea. She was about to try again when his thumbs
pulled her ass open. The stretch was breathtaking, the burn too delicious,
wider than she’d been the night before with his three fingers shoved high.
Christ.
She smashed her face to the mattress, her hands fisted in the bedding, and rode
the edge of pain and delight.

When he slowly eased his thick shaft from her still
quivering pussy, she thought she would cry with relief.

At last.

His hands left her body and she whimpered.
Just relax
.
She was right where she wanted to be, her chest pressed to the bed and her ass
tilted in the air, shamelessly offered up for Garrick to do with as he wished.

And if he didn’t wish to finally put his long, hard, thick
cock in her ass, she was fully prepared to beg.

She heard the sound of the bottle cap snapping back onto the
lube, and she closed her eyes, sighing. Whatever he was going to do next was
going to be good.

The silken head of his cock tickled along her ass before
coming to rest against her anus. She smiled. She looked up the curve of her
back and into Garrick’s face.

Sweat trickled past his temples, his brow beaded with it. His
expression was fierce, the aching point where their bodies met his sole focus.

One big hand slid up her back, soothing her, and she
murmured in response, arching back against him.

His scowl was ferocious as he wrapped a hand around her
waist and held her still. Chest muscles twitching, hands shaking, he slowly
pushed forward.

There was a moment, a single second of hovering pain and
pressure, then the head of Garrick’s cock popped into her ass and her eyes
fluttered closed.

Perfect
.

In spite of her best efforts to relax, the ring of muscles
guarding her entrance clenched around him, tearing a grunt from them both. It
felt incredible, the stretch endless.

He rocked, slowly, and her body moved with his. His hands worked
in counterpoint so that each roll forward eased him a little farther into her
body. The sense of being filled, of being full, washed over her. Garrick talked
about the high. Now she got it. She was drunk on sensation.

He had to be almost all the way in. The burn increased with
the girth of his shaft as it neared the base. She felt every centimeter, every
vein and ridge as they eased into her body.

Heaven. Better than she’d guessed. Better than anything
Garrick had ever described in all the times she’d made him detail his liaisons
with other men. The sensations were unlike any others
—
even the plug. Because this wasn’t some object.
This was Garrick. This was absolute trust.

More cold lube flowed over her ass, his fingers and cock
working it around and into her, his thrusts getting stronger. More and more of
Garrick’s cock wedged into her and she wondered if he might nudge her heart, he
was so deep.

His hands locked around her waist, and with a final hard
shove, he seated himself fully within her, her ass stretched farther than ever
before, holding him tight in her body.

She came.

Her muscles clamped down on the thick shaft invading her
body and she moaned, her empty pussy clenching as the waves rushed over her. She
wanted to scream, to howl and cry out her pleasure, but the sheer force of her
release, the fascinating power of this dark passion, held her unusually silent.

“Are you okay?” Garrick asked, his voice raw.

She nodded. He didn’t move.

“Yes. God, yes, Garrick.”

His hands resettled on her waist and he slowly drew his shaft
from her, her body clinging to him, desperate to drag him back in, to regain
that fullness.

He didn’t disappoint.

He fucked her with long, deep strokes, nearly pulling
himself from her body with each retreat before slamming home until their thighs
met, his balls rubbing her sensitive ass and perineum.

For once she did little to help, content—no,
ecstatic
—to
simply lie there and take him, her mind thrilling to the rush. She’d thought
he’d introduced her to new sensations before, with his fingers, his toys. His
tongue. But there was more she had to learn. She lay with her cheek to the bed,
her eyes half closed, and wondered how many more things he might be able to
teach her.

His rhythm faltered. She waited for his climax, but he held it
off. Buried in her to the hilt, he curled himself down over her back.

Soft lips cruised down her neck, panting breaths hot on her
skin, his teeth sharp when they sank into her shoulder blade. Rather than bring
her back from the edge, it sent her closer to toppling over it again.