“Now, what the bleeding hell is happening in this film?” He whispered, and a laugh burst from my lips. The icky, heavy tension completely cleared.
And a jolt of ice-cold fear pulsed in my heart as I reeled in that laugh.
Because I realized just how powerful Connell had become in my heart—fully capable of either crushing it, or healing it.
And I was scared to death of which one would win in the end.
9
Connell
“Och, and what about that one?” I nodded toward the rookie, who flew by, trying his hardest to catch Cannon. Trying was the correct word. There wasn’t a faster skater in the NHL than Cannon Price.
“Maxfield,” Logan answered as we leaned over the wall from the bench. “Rookie out of Boston.”
“And that one?” I motioned toward the guy in goal next to Sawyer.
“Jansen Sterling.” Logan shook his head. “Didn’t you at least read all the trading news?”
“Nah. Figured I’d get all the news here anyway.” I shrugged and watched as the local skaters took the ice.
It was mid-August, and we had a couple of weeks until our official practices began, but we liked to get together for informal pickup games as we all got back into town, or in the case of both Logan and I—never leave town.
Cannon flew by and stopped suddenly at the end of the bench, throwing snow.
“I don’t know, Price. I think you may be a wee bit out of shape,” I jested.
“Fuck off,” he muttered as the new kid caught up.
The kid ripped off his helmet and shook out his sweat-laden hair with awe on his face. “How the hell do you move like that?”
Cannon took off his helmet and simply turned away from the kid, dismissing him completely as he climbed in next to us.
“Gossiping like the little school girls you are?” he asked.
“Always,” Logan replied with a smirk.
The kid’s eyes flew wide as Axel stepped in with us, Lukas Vestergaard at his side.
“Stop scaring the rookies, Cannon,” Axel warned.
A corner of Cannon’s mouth lifted, but it would have been wrong to call it a smile.
“Go skate, Maxfield. We’ll be out once we’re done gossiping like the little school girls we are.” Axel shooed off the new skater.
“How many newbies are we stuck with?” Lukas asked.
“Five,” a voice behind us answered.
We turned to see Asher Silas, the owner of the Reapers, standing with Coach McPherson.
“We took the best they had and even found a goalie for McCoy to train up.” Silas nodded toward the goal. “So don’t run off the rookies, okay?”
We all muttered our assent as a hulking figure skated our way. He ripped off his helmet as he stood in front of us and glared.
Interesting.
“Who the fuck decided that I have to show up to some bullshit charity gala?” he growled.
“Well, if I knew who the fuck you were, maybe I could answer you,” Silas replied, chill as the ice.
“I’m Brogan Grant, your new left wing.” Guy lifted his chin a good inch in the air. “Who the fuck are you?”
Every single player in the bench stood still as death.
“I’m Asher Silas, the owner of the Reapers, that’s who the fuck I am. Also, you’ll be showing up to that bullshit charity auction because the contract you signed agreed to any charitable appearances that I deem appropriate on behalf of the Reaper Charitable Foundation. If you have a problem with that, I’m happy to negotiate a contract that removes you from the Reapers.” Silas didn’t even wait for the guy to respond, he just turned to Coach. “I think I’ve seen all I need to.” He took off down the access tunnel.
“You’re the one out LA, right?” Coach asked as if he didn’t know. Of course he knew since he was the one who went after the trades.
“Yeah. They call me Demon.”
Had to hand it to the arse, he didn’t back down.
“They’ll be calling you from the minors if you ever mouth off on my ice like that again. Don’t test me. I don’t let assholes skate on my team.” Coach shook his head and headed off to where Langley was flagging him down at the edge of the rink.
Grant watched, then made a sound of appreciation as Langley turned away.
“Look at her again, and I’ll remove your balls as a favor because there’s no chance in hell you could handle my wife. I don’t care what the fuck they call you.” Axel walked over the wall—he was that bloody tall—and skated off without another word.
Lukas whistled at Grant and did the same.
“Well, Grant, way to make a first impression,” I said with a nod. “Och, and just a heads up, the role of broody bastard has already been taken by Cannon, so you might need to find a new schtick.”
“He’s not wrong,” Logan agreed, slapping Cannon on the back.
Cannon didn’t bat an eye at the guy as Grant tried to stare him down. Then he fucking grinned.
Grant swore and skated off.
“What a first-class prick,” Logan muttered.
“We should warn Sephie and have her cut him from the gala. No one needs that around a fundraiser,” I mused.
“Who the fuck is Sephie?” Cannon snapped and gave me his full attention.
“Persephone? You know, the little blonde who runs the charitable—”
“I know who Persephone is,” he barked. “What I don’t know is why the fuck you’re calling her Sephie.”
I blinked, feeling like I’d missed a road sign somewhere. “Uh, because that’s her nickname? You can’t honestly think a lass that little is going to carry her full name around like that.”
“And how the hell do you know it?” He stepped toward me.
“Because I was in her office signing some sticks—hockey sticks, Cannon. You’ve gone daft, man. Anyway, her dad popped in and called her Sephie.” I didn’t back up, but it was only because I knew him well enough to know he wasn’t going to murder me like the look in his eyes suggested.
He studied me for a long minute and then nodded. Then he climbed over the wall and headed out to the ice.
“What in the bleeding hell was that about?” I asked Logan.
He shook his head, watching Cannon skate off. “No clue.”
“Ward! MacDhuibh! Let’s go!” Axel called out, forming lines for a scrimmage.
“Shall we kick some newbie arse?” I asked Logan.
“Hell yes.”
“So this is it, huh? The start of the season?” Annabelle tightened the sash around her robe, looked out over the crowded backyard, and sighed. Her sun hat was huge but sexy as hell, and she was wearing the same oversized glasses she’d worn the first day we met.
“You don’t have to look like it’s the end of the world, lass. It’s just our kick-off party.” Every Reaper was in the yard was in various states of undress. Some were still fully clothed, and others were already in swimsuits, enjoying the pool.
One of the poor rookies was enjoying the pool fully clothed thanks to ogling Faith, Lukas’s wife.
“I know. It just feels like summer is over.”
I took her face in my hands and kissed her, taking my time despite the party going on twenty feet away. Nothing ever seemed to matter while I was kissing Annabelle. She parted her lips, and I sank into her, swirling my tongue around hers until she gripped my bare shoulders and moaned.
“Fuck the party, let’s go upstairs,” I murmured against her lips.
She grinned and shook her head. “It’s your party, Connell. We can’t just disappear.”
“Sure we can.” I tugged her against me and filled my hands with her sweet arse. “No one will even know we’re gone.”
Her hands slipped down my chest, then traced the lines of my abs. “As much as I would love to take you upstairs, there’s no chance that’s going to happen while you have all these people here.”
“I’ll kick them out,” I offered.
She laughed, and I groaned as s
he pulled away from me. “Let’s go join your guests.”
I groaned but took her hand.
“You sure?” she asked, looking down at our entwined fingers.
“I couldn’t care less who knows about us. If you’re worried about being public, then don’t stress. No one here will run off to the press.” I stood at the giant glass doors and waited for her to make her choice.
“Okay,” she said with a nod.
My smile was Cheshire-cat big as we walked onto the patio, then down the steps that led to the pool area.
“I can’t believe you bought a splash pad just for the Reaper kids.” She shook her head as we passed a few players. The deck was crowded, but there were still a few lounge chairs open over by Echo, where I knew Annabelle would feel most comfortable.
“Well, I figured my kids would like it, too.”
She halted.
“Annabelle?” When she dropped my hand, I turned to face her.
“You have kids?” she hissed.
I took off her sunglasses so I could see her eyes and noticed they were almost as big as the lenses had been.
“No, lass. I don’t have children. At least not yet. But maybe one day.”
She blinked away the shock and blushed. “Oh. Okay. Sorry, I just realized that there is so much I don’t know about you.”
“There’s time.” All the time she wanted. I wasn’t going anywhere.
“So, you want kids?” she asked, taking my hand again.
I watched some of the younger generations of Reapers play in the splash pad and nodded. “Aye. I’d like a family.”
“Annabelle!” Echo called out and waved us over.
“Hey!” Annabelle dropped her bag on the empty chair closest to Echo’s.
“I’m going to get in,” I whispered in her ear.
“I think I’m just going to visit here with Echo.” She clutched the corners of her robe together.
I kissed her forehead, and when I pulled away, Echo was open-mouthed staring at us. “I think you’re the sexiest woman on the planet, and if you bring that incredible arse into the pool, I’ll make it worth your while,” I growled in her ear.
She rolled her eyes at me and gave me a little shove.
“Take care of her,” I ordered Echo.
“Uhhh, that’s my line,” she said with a huff, her gaze flickering between Annabelle and me.
I gave her a mock salute and headed for the water. A water gun fight, two slides, and two more rookies dunked, I looked over from the pool and nearly swallowed my tongue.
Annabelle walked toward me in a two-piece, pulling her hair up as she moved.
It was bright pink, with boyshort bottoms and a halter top that did unholy things with her breasts—or rather, it made me want to do unholy things with them.
She gave me a sinful smile and climbed down the ladder into the middle of the pool.
“Fuck, lass,” I said quietly so the kids wouldn’t hear me. “Ye look incredible.”
She wound her arms around my neck and kissed my lips. “Where’s the worth-my-while?”
I kissed her long and harder than was decent for the current crowd as I backed her against the edge of the pool. “If there weren’t minors around, your worth-your-while would be inside you right now.”
“MacDhuibh, get over here!” Logan ordered from the volleyball net we had strung near the end of the pool. “We need you!”
I sighed, noting that his girlfriend had the camera out. Jesus, that woman was always posting shit.
“You heard what they said,” Annabelle giggled. “They need you.”
“Well, I need ye.”
“Go win your game, and we’ll see about it.”
“Fine,” I pouted but kissed her again. “Besides, one more moment over here, and the rest of the pool would see your worth-your-while.”
She laughed and shoved me toward the guys. It was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard, and I found myself echoing it. Who would have thought a few months ago that the proper little lass with the rule book would be the sinful ass I’d be obsessed with?
For the first time in my life, I felt a sense of balance, and it was just as comforting as it was terrifying because I knew in this situation, she held all the power.
10
Annabelle
“You certainly know how to throw a party,” I said, sliding the last bit of Tupperware into Connell’s fridge. The last stragglers from the night had just gone home, and it was well past eleven.
“Aye,” Connell said as I rounded the corner to meet him in the living room, and I stopped suddenly at the sight of him.
The man laid back on his hunter green, tufted, armless chaise. Shirtless, a pair of black Reaper athletic pants hugging his hips, showing off those damned impossible v-lines he had. His eyes were half-closed, his hair damp from the shower he’d just taken, feet bare.
“Sweet mercy,” I said before I could stop myself, and his eyes widened a bit.
“You know what that southern accent does to me?” He smiled.
“Says the Scottish man who looks like that simply sitting.” I motioned to the perfection of his body, half-heartedly shaking my head.
He cocked an eyebrow at me. “You’re one to talk, love,” he said, his accent burring those r’s and skittering over my skin. “Walking around in that bikini earlier? I thought I might die from wanting you.”
Heat flared down the middle of me, at the desire in his eyes, the primal need in his tone.
I’d never felt more desirable or beautiful in my entire life.
This…this is what it felt like to be wanted on every possible level.
The realization of that absolute truth filled every crevice of my body with an aching hunger I couldn’t possibly survive.
I shaped my lips in what I hoped was close to Connell’s usual mischievous grin, and delight rippled through me as his eyes tracked my every move toward him. He reached for me when my knees hit the side of his chaise, but I tsked him.
He cocked a brow, the pulse spiking at his neck as I guided his arms up and above him, securing them on the lip of the chaise.
“Stay,” I demanded, then took my time exploring his skin with the pads of my fingers, then followed the trail with my lips, pausing to appreciate the ink decorating his muscled right bicep. I traced the whorls of ink with my tongue, then kissed my way up the light stubble on his jaw, and then moved lower. Over his hard chest and the ridges of his abdomen until I reached the bulge not at all hiding beneath his pants.
I raked my teeth over the fabric, wicked surprise fluttering through me when I realized he wore nothing beneath. I glanced up at him while I teased him with feather-light strokes. He kept his hands where I’d secured them, but his muscles flexed with the effort, and his hips jerked with each teasing touch I issued.
Hooking my fingers into the waistband, I slowly tugged them down and tossed them to the side, his considerable length springing free. My mouth watered, and my head spun with the consuming desire I had for this man. With the power coursing through my veins as I took a few steps back, peeling off my clothes so he could see every inch of me. I didn’t bother reaching for the light switch, didn’t even feel the impulse to. That alone would’ve been enough to tell me how much Connell meant to me, but the need pulsing in time with my heart confirmed it.
Fire licked my skin as his eyes trailed the length of my body and back to my eyes.
I settled one knee between his, the other over one of his thighs as I knelt over him. I fisted his length, hard as granite in my hand, and didn’t hesitate to take him in my mouth.
“Fuck,” he hissed, arching upward.
I smiled around his cock, using my tongue to swirl around his head, moaning at the taste of him—salt and heat and pure Connell. I sucked and stroked before teasingly trailing my tongue down the side until I’d reached his base and traveled back up again. He writhed beneath me, his biceps flexing from the pressure of keeping his hands where I’d left them.
Suck
ing his head into my mouth again, I moaned around him as he lifted his knee between my thighs, adding a bit of pressure to my tease of a dance. So carefully, slowly, I took him deeper, as far as I could possibly go, my heart racing with the control, with the sexy as sin hisses coming from Connell’s mouth.
Then his hands were in my hair, and his cock sprang from my mouth with a little pop as I shook my head. “Ah, ah,” I chided.
He groaned from the sudden change, and I smirked at him, eyeing those hands.
Fire danced in his eyes as he raised them and put them back above his head.
And I might’ve came right there from the shift in control, from the way he allowed me to take the reins.
But I needed him back in my mouth.
And so I dove back in, reveling in the taste of him, in the way he hardened inside my mouth when I lightly, carefully grazed his hard flesh with my teeth. And just when I could feel that shift in him, just when I knew I had him, I pulled back.
A growl of protest rumbled from his chest, but I wasted no time in settling myself over him, positioning his slick tip at my drenched entrance.
“Annabelle,” he said through clenched teeth. “Condom,” he could only manage one-word sentences.
I paused, waiting. “I want to feel you inside me,” I said. “I’m on the pill. Is that okay?”
“Fuck, yes,” he answered, and I sank onto him in one smooth motion.
I threw my head back, a gasp ripping from my lips at the way he filled every inch of me. The way I went tight and loose at the same time. The way I couldn’t think around him but needed so, so much more.
I rocked my hips, bracing my hands on his firm chest for leverage. Up and down and back and forth, I rode him hard but slow, squeezing out every drop of pleasure I could. Savoring the feel of him, the scent of him, the way his blue eyes blazed as he watched me. Every inch of me coiled like a tight spring. I reached up and grabbed his hands, placing them on my breasts, needing to feel him everywhere.
A sigh of pure relief left his lips at the freedom, and he hauled himself upward until we were chest to chest, lips to lips.
Connell (Carolina Reapers Book 3) Page 10