Fair Play (Hat Trick, Book 1) (20 page)

Thrusting his hands under her ass, he settled on his knees, lifted
her hips clear off the floor, and eased ever so slowly into her. He wanted to
take, to thrust and plunge and hurry, but he held back. His arms trembled as he
stretched her tight walls, his mind torn between staring at his shaft slipping into
her body and watching her face.

With a final urgent shove, his body came up against hers,
his balls nestled to her ass.

“Garrick!” She rocked against him. She was beautiful, her
face flushed, her eyes ablaze and sightless as she practically purred. “Please,
Garrick. Please now. Hard.”

In only three days, he’d somehow forgotten how much he loved
this. How it made him a little crazy to hear her demands for more. She’d
learned to ask for what she wanted. From him. Of him. She could have it all. He’d
deny her nothing.

The thought alone sapped the last of Garrick’s control and he
thrust hard and fast, pounding into her, their bodies sounding dull thumps as
they crashed together. He wanted to pull her into his body. Keep her there
forever, even when he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop wishing for it.

He fell over her and pressed his face to hers. Their noses
rubbed. She moaned louder against his lips, in time with his thrusts, as if his
cock forced each sound out of her body.

Her orgasm bloomed quickly, and her muscles clamped down on
him, yanking the tingle and fire up out of his balls to the base of his spine
before it exploded over him. Release snapped his head back and ripped a guttural
shout from his chest as lightning flowed down his cock, blinding him to
everything but the sensations running over his body and the dull ache in the
vicinity of his heart.

Savannah climbed out of her car into the bitter wind of the
arena parking lot. Mike Erdo waited by the back door. Sighing, she tugged her
coat up around her face and jogged toward him. How many more times would she have
to go through this routine before she left town? In spite of her now constant
escorts and the strain of feeling watched and threatened at every turn, she was
going to miss the Ice Cats and Moncton.

Two months ago she’d felt like a visitor. Now she felt
entrenched. Which was foolish, of course, because she had to get the hell out of
town as soon as possible.

Garrick had told her about Robert Kramer’s threats. In the
two weeks since her return from Boston, she hadn’t been alone more than the
fifteen minute drive from Garrick’s house to the arena. And often not even then.
This morning Garrick had an appointment at the bank that he was being very
tight-lipped about, so he’d sent her ahead with the promise that Mike would be
waiting. And here he was.

“Good morning, Savannah.”

“Hey, Mike. Thanks for waiting out in the cold. You could
have stayed inside.”

Mike glanced back at the glass doors before gazing out over
the cars. His eyes narrowed. She fought the urge to look behind her.

“What is it?”

Mike shrugged. “Didn’t recognize the guy or the car. I made
sure to wave hello, though. A couple times.”

Savannah smiled weakly. “Thanks.” She held the door for Mike.

He smiled as he walked past. “Don’t mention it.”

He waited patiently while she unlocked her office door, and
leaned against the doorjamb once she went in.

“Are you going to work in the gym today?” he asked.

She squashed the pang of irritation at not being able to sit
in her office alone for five minutes. It wasn’t Mike’s fault.

She grabbed the files, folders, and pencil box from her desk.
“I am if it’s okay with you?”

“Sure. Alexei will be waiting for you so I can go change.”

She was about to protest that she could spend five minutes
in the gym with some of the players that weren’t on her personal security
detail, but the words faltered when Bobby shoved past Mike and into her office.

The genuinely pleased smile on his face was chilling. “Good
morning,” he said. His smirk was more arrogant than usual, which was really
saying something.

“Good morning,” she replied, barely keeping her tone civil.

Mike took up position behind her left shoulder. They’d long
ago stopped trying to disguise their purpose for hanging around her all the
time. At least to Bobby. Bobby eyed him, his disgust plain, before turning his
beady eyes and smarmy smile back to her.

“You’re here early.”

Was this an attempt at small talk or was there was a threat
hidden in there somewhere? Not for the first time, she wished she’d succeeded
in convincing Garrick to continue his investigation into the Kramers. She had
to leave Moncton no matter what, but they still didn’t deserve the Ice Cats.

“This is my usual start time, actually.” She sounded
remarkably reasonable, considering how badly she wanted to punch this man in
the nose.

“Huh. I guess you don’t even have time to watch the news
over breakfast, then?”

“Uh, no.”
The news? What the fuck is he talking about?

“Too bad. Interesting stuff this morning.”

She gave Bobby a blank stare, but he kept smiling at her. She
forced back a shudder of disgust and tried to move things along. “Did you need
me for something?”

For a moment, Bobby looked confused, as if he’d forgotten
why he’d come to the trainer’s office. Then he traded in his smile for his
usual angry sneer.

“Yeah,” he bitched, “my fucking elbow hurts.”

They were back on familiar ground. It was almost a relief. “Did
you ice it last night and again this morning?”

Bobby scrunched up his face and rocked his head back and
forth. “No, I didn’t ice it last night,” he said in a snotty voice, casting a derisive
look at Mike. “Unlike your loser friends, some of us have lives and go out
after the games.”

Savannah held her tongue.

Mike felt no such compulsion. “Some of us are professional
athletes and take our responsibility to the team seriously.”

Bobby opened his mouth, but Savannah cut him off. “Go ice it
and do the stretches. If it’s not better, I’ll adjust your program for today.”

He stared at her, his eyes narrowing. Mike moved closer.

“I’ll be back.” Bobby stomped toward the door.

Savannah resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Barely. She kept
her polite smile fixed in place and waited for Bobby to leave. As soon as he
disappeared into the corridor, her shoulders slumped.

Garrick drove into the arena parking lot an hour later, his
mind jammed with figures and interest rates and business plans. He was so
preoccupied, he almost didn’t notice Rhian slamming out the back door and
running toward his car. When Rhian’s headlong charge finally registered, Garrick
ditched the SUV in the first spot he came to and leaped from the car.

“What?”

“We’ve got a problem. A big one.”

Rhian was not particularly given to hysteria, so his wide
eyes and urgent tone were downright alarming.

Garrick grabbed Rhian’s arm. “Is she okay? What happened?”

 “She’s fine. At least, she was when I left her with Alexei
a few minutes ago. She’s not going to be for long, though.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Garrick’s blood
pressure was reaching critical levels.

“Come on. I’ll show you.”

Garrick sprinted after Rhian into the arena and to the gym, where
Mike waited for them, his eyes glued to the TV. Before Garrick could ask, the
newscaster spoke.

“Local businessman Robert Kramer and the EHL announced
today that he will be the new owner of the Ice Cats. The deal, submitted just
weeks ago, has been approved by the league.”

“Fuck.” Garrick’s stomach dropped. Reese hadn’t been able to
stall them for long. How the fuck did Kramer get the league to act so fast?

“
Maritimes TV went to the streets to see what fans and
the players thought of the news…”
Garrick tuned out the news program. Rhian
and Mike looked at him with pity. He wondered briefly if they were sorry
Savannah was leaving or that he was going to be out of a job.

He needed to find Savannah and see if she was okay, but
stopped dead in his tracks when he heard Bobby’s voice booming from the
television.
“Yeah, I’m pretty pleased that the Ice Cats will be owned by a
local, especially since it’s my dad.”

The sycophants surrounding Bobby all laughed at this great
joke. Garrick wondered if they’d all been lobotomized before they fell in with
Bobby or if it was a free service his father offered so his son would have
friends.

The newscaster, clearly clueless about what kind of idiot
she was dealing with, moved on to particulars.
“Do think there will be a lot
of changes to the team?”

“Well, I think the real talent is safe and the old dead
weight can be sure they’ll be cut loose, which is long overdue.”

Garrick grimaced. No question who he was talking about there.

“And the management?”

Bobby laughed, a grating, malevolent sound.

“Well, we’ll see,”
he drawled.
“I can tell you
this—sleeping with half the team won’t be enough to secure your job, especially
if you’re a lousy trainer to begin with.”

Garrick choked on a lungful of stale, sweaty gym air. A
stunned silence followed, both in the gym and on the news program. Before the
reporter could recover, Mike shut the TV off and hurled the remote against the
wall, shattering it.

A small whimper came from the corridor. Heart plummeting, Garrick
spun to see Savannah standing in the door, her mouth hanging open, her eyes
wide with horror.

 “Savannah…” What the fuck he could possibly say? There were
no words, no apology, no comfort he could offer her that would undo Bobby’s
slander. Her worst nightmare come true.

Savannah stared at the blank television screen. A strange
ringing in her ears numbed her to the concern in Garrick’s voice. Shock prevented
her from reacting to the stricken looks on everyone’s faces.

Garrick reached for her, but she snapped out of her stupor
and dodged his grasp. The buzzing in her head subsided enough for her to hear
him and the others call her name as she swung around Alexei, her unwitting
escort to the gym. Before they could stop her, reason with her, try to get her
to wait, she took off at a dead sprint down the hallway.

Footsteps thundered behind her, proof that Garrick, Alexei,
Mike, and Rhian followed. She ran faster. Ran past the stunned stares of the
coaching staff, the other players, the front office workers, as she made her
way to Mark’s office.

She didn’t ask to be admitted. Hell, she didn’t even knock.
She threw his door open and staggered to a stop in front of his desk before
slamming it shut behind her.

Mark leaped up from his chair. “Savannah! What’s wrong?”

She sucked in a deep breath and fought back the shakes. The
tears.
Fucking adrenaline
, she cursed, determined to shut it down. She
wasn’t going to let anyone, not Mark, not Garrick and the others, and certainly
not Bobby Kramer, see one fucking tear.

“I quit.”

Mark’s mouth fell open. “What?”

He glanced at his desk when the phone starting ringing. Then
his cell. The lines for the rest of the office started lighting up as well. Her
heart cracked open a little further with every goddamn ring.

“I quit,” she restated. She needed for it to be done, for
this nightmare to be over. “Two weeks and I’m gone. Less, if you’ll give me a
decent reference.” She prayed he’d let her off the hook. She didn’t know how
she’d survive the next two weeks. How she’d ever work in hockey again.

Her knees turned to jelly and she waivered, clenching the
back of a guest chair to steady herself. Mark came around his desk.

“No!” she barked, and he froze.

She could stand on her own. She
would
walk out of this
arena on her own two feet, of her own volition, her head held high.

And then go someplace quiet and dark and curl up in a ball
and cry her damn heart out.

“Answer the phones. Turn on the news.” She pointed to the
screen mounted on his wall. “You’ll have your answers.”

He glanced back at his phone before he looked at her again. “Are
you sure?”

Was he asking about the answers or her resignation? It
didn’t matter. The answer was the same.

“Absolutely.”

Mark said nothing.

Turning, she calmly opened his door and marched out of his
office, her molars clamped so tightly they hurt. The pain and her focus were
the only things keeping her lips from quivering. The guys were waiting for her
but quickly moved out of her way to fall into line behind her. Their support was
important to her. Meant so much. At that moment, though, she wanted to tell
them to leave her alone. She wanted to screech at everyone to just
leave her
the fuck alone.

She walked faster.Head high, she strode back to her
office, ignoring the looks. She didn’t know if they were staring because of her
mad dash past them five minutes before or because they’d seen the news. It
didn’t matter.

Soon Moncton would all be a bad memory.

Garrick didn’t remember the game that night. Sitting rigidly
on the bench in the locker room afterwards, he tried to tune out the tension
around him and focus on getting himself dressed. He didn’t bother to shower.
He’d do it later. At home. Right now he needed to get Savannah out of this
fucking arena and back to his house. Away from all the stares, the snickers,
the pitying looks.

The usual post-game joking, the ribald humor and inevitable
comparisons of that night’s performance on the ice to various sexual talents or
lack thereof, was completely absent. He’d never been in a quieter locker room. Everyone
was strung tight and giving everyone else a wide berth.

Which was wise. Garrick was holding on to his temper by a
thread.

Taking three slow, deep breaths, he stared hard into his
locker and told himself to just leave. He stood, yanked on his coat, shoved his
laundry in his bag, and nodded goodnight to Rhian at the next locker. Rhian and
his other friends had been running defense off the ice, keeping everyone else
away. He’d thank them for it when he was sure he could keep his shit together.
Right now, a single word might lead to the uncorking of what he was trying very
hard to keep bottled inside.

He promised himself he could make it to Savannah and then to
his car without losing his mind.

He broke that promise when Bobby and three of his stupid
friends stopped to face him over the bench.

Bobby’s smile was enough to send Garrick over the edge all
on its own. But of course, the asshole had something to say.

“Think long and hard before you fuck with me again.”

The crack of his fist hitting Bobby’s ugly fucking face was
the single most satisfying sound Garrick had ever heard. The shiver of impact
and pain racing up his arm felt even better.

Yes!

Bobby flew over the bench, fists flying, and Garrick
welcomed it. He felt the hits, given and received, and plunged in for more. Swung
harder. He used his arms, fists, knees—hell, even his head—to impress upon
Bobby how much he fucking hated the son of a bitch.

Bobby’s cronies didn’t jump in and Garrick could only assume
they were being held at bay. He didn’t bother to check as he hurled Bobby to
the cement floor and fell on top of him.

Garrick was having the devil of a time seeing out of his
right eye, but he felt no pain. Bobby put up a good fight, but he was under
Garrick now, at his mercy, and Garrick had none to offer. Some distant part of
his brain warned him there were no refs, no one to declare the fight over. He
swung again anyway, laying into a still struggling Bobby, ignoring the punches
to his ribs. Someone grabbed Garrick and lifted him almost completely off Bobby.
He threw his arm back and got himself free.