Connell (Carolina Reapers Book 3)

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Connell (Carolina Reapers Book 3) Page 11

by Samantha Whiskey


  And I stilled atop him as he kissed me with such tenderness, such care that I couldn’t contain the pleasured cry that escaped my lips.

  His hands raked through my hair and tilted my head for a better angle as he kissed me deeper. He took his time to work more moans from my lips, and he drank them down like his favorite scotch.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, not an inch of space separating us as I began to move again. Slowly torturing us both. Each roll of my hips made the pair of us tremble from the exertion, from the rippling electricity sparking in every place we needed, wanted. Until we were breathless and sweat-slicked. Until I was sure I would die from wanting this man, from feeling this fucking good.

  “Annabelle,” he sighed my name, his voice raspy with desire. “Look at me.”

  I met his eyes, smiling at the delight in them.

  “You’re brilliant,” he said. “Beautiful. Come with me.” The primal tenor in his voice skittered down my spine, undoing every sense of control I may have possessed.

  And then he lifted as I rocked down on top of him, and release barreled through me, bursting and sparking so hard my eyes saw stars. A gasp tore through me as I threw my head back, gripping his shoulders for support as he hardened infinitely more as he found his own release inside me.

  We sat there, my forehead against his, connected in more ways than physical as we caught our breath. Connell gently lifted us from the chair, kissing me sweetly as he carried us upstairs to his room, where he helped me get cleaned up before tucking me into his bed.

  “Now what?” I whispered in the quiet dark as he stood by the bed.

  He knew what I meant.

  Knew my concerns with the upcoming season.

  He reached into the drawer of his nightstand, plucking out a small metal object and handing it to me.

  “A key?” I asked, palming the thing.

  He climbed into bed next to me, his warm, naked body melting me all over again as he settled behind me. He covered us with his comforter, tucking my back against his chest, his chin over my shoulder.

  “And I cleared out two drawers for you in my dresser,” he said. “I want to spend as much time as possible with you. So, do with that what you will, love,” he said, motioning to the key in my hand.

  I slipped it under the pillow on what had become my side of his bed and turned enough to meet his eyes. “Okay,” I said.

  “Okay?” He arched a brow at me.

  “Let’s do this. For real.”

  A wide, genuine smile shaped his lips before he crushed them against mine.

  I finally surrendered this one part of myself to him, the one I’d been holding onto because of the skepticism I had about what would happen when the season truly started. But Connell made those doubts disappear with every sweet, gentle touch of his lips. Had made them disappear as we’d grown closer—in friendship, in lust, in…everything.

  I closed my eyes, opening for him again, wider this time. Letting him in another inch, dangerously close to all the way down in my soul.

  And he must’ve felt the subtle shift because he didn’t let me sleep a wink that night.

  “Now that’s a nice background,” Lacy said over my shoulder, and I bit back my smile. She practically skipped back to her desk. “I’m so proud of you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s just a picture,” I said.

  She arched a brow at me.

  “Okay, it’s a hot picture,” I relented, gazing at my new computer wallpaper. A simple shot of Connell and myself, his arm tucking me in tight. But it was the way he gazed down at me that made the picture practically catch fire. The hunger in his eyes, the wicked grin on his lips.

  Sweet mercy, this man made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

  Like I was the only woman in the world.

  Cold, familiar doubt crept past the flames gently whirring in my core, whispering icy facts into the back of my mind.

  The real season will start soon.

  Away games.

  Women in every state want him.

  How could any man withstand a constant stream of perfection?

  I shook my head in an attempt to clear it and clicked on the documents I should be working on, effectively covering the happy picture on my screen.

  Work.

  Work was my number one passion before Connell plowed into my life on a four-wheeler with a Scottish accent and an irresistible laugh.

  I buried myself in work, shoving all other thoughts away until the next thing I knew, Lacy was tapping my shoulder in way of goodbye and clocking out for the evening.

  I finished up payroll for this week and then shut everything down, totally, mentally exhausted. After locking the building up, I strolled to my car, thoughts of a glass of wine and a good book dominating my mind, knowing Connell had been swamped with preseason skates. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I fished it out after I’d settled into the driver’s seat.

  Connell: Home yet?

  I bit back my grin as I texted back.

  Me: Just in the car now.

  Connell: Good. Go to my place instead.

  Me: I thought you would be out late with the boys?

  Connell: Aye. Team morale. But I’d love it if I found you in my bed when I came home.

  A thrill rushed through me.

  Me: Even if I’m asleep?

  Connell: Always. What do you say?

  Me: I guess you’ll just have to wait and find out.

  Connell: Tease.

  I set my cell in the cup holder and took the road that led me to Reaper village.

  An hour later, I’d slipped into my favorite silk pajama set and sank into Connell’s king-sized bed, drowning in the luxury of his soft sheets and thick blankets. Lucky for me, he kept my favorite wine on hand, and after half a glass, I was blissfully relaxed. Totally at home. Enough to fall into an easy sleep where doubts and fears didn’t exist.

  The bed shifted behind me, a sturdy weight rolling my body slightly. I blinked away the haze of sleep, but just barely as I parted my lids.

  “Sorry, love,” Connell whispered, his lips at my ear as he settled behind me. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

  Something inside me utterly relaxed as he tucked my back against his chest, his arms encasing me to him. A settled, solid feeling clicked into place as if something had been missing while he was gone. Now that he was home, everything felt put back in its proper spot.

  “How was the morale boosting night?” I asked, trying desperately to shake myself awake.

  “Hilarious,” he whispered, a soft chuckle vibrating from his chest. “One of the rookies made a right galoot of himself trying to woo a waitress who was clearly not interested.”

  “Galoot?” I murmured, tilting my head.

  “Idiot,” he explained, his nose trailing the seam of my neck, eliciting chills across my skin.

  “Ah,” I said. “How many ways do you have of saying idiot? I need you to buy me a Scottish dictionary or something.”

  He laughed again. “I think you’re still asleep.”

  “Am not,” I said, though I half was. “Like that song,” I said, my head sinking heavy against his bicep that he’d slipped under me.

  “What song?”

  “The one you hummed at the office constantly.”

  “Ah,” he said. “I didn’t realize you were paying attention.”

  “I was,” I admitted.

  “It’s called Caledonia,” he whispered. “I don’t think there’s a Scot alive who doesn’t know it. It’s about a man who's lost his way but is reminded about what truly matters in the world. He thinks about his roots, about what is most important in life.” He gently kissed my neck. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it after I met you.”

  “Why?” I sighed, forcing my eyes to open.

  “Because I saw you, heard that smart mouth, and I felt home.”

  I swallowed hard, my brow furrowing as I tried to figure out if this was a dream or not. I shifted against him, prep
ared to roll over and fully wake up, but he held me tight.

  “Sleep, Annabelle,” he said, kissing my neck again.

  I settled against him, sinking further into myself as I interlocked our hands. “I’m glad you’re home safe,” I said, already slipping back into slumber.

  “I’m glad you were here to come home to,” he said.

  “Me too,” I whispered before falling back into the deep sort of sleep that only came from the complete and utter relaxation of security.

  I didn’t wake Connell the following morning, knowing he had to be wrecked from how late they’d been out last night. But I kissed him softly before leaving for work, my heart lifted from what I hoped had been real and not a dream last night.

  The doubts were still there, but his words, his body sheltering mine throughout the night…they helped chase them away. Helped me dare to believe that maybe, just maybe, what we had was real and would withstand the trials his life naturally would throw at us.

  11

  Connell

  There were nights when I was on, and nights when I was on fire. I knocked the puck loose from Tampa’s newest center, and took it down the boards, firing it off to Cannon just past the blue line.

  The crowd roared as he flew by their defense and fired it in. The lamp lit, and the noise level in the arena shot to a new decibel.

  I pounded Cannon’s back as we filed into the bench for the shift change. It was our first home preseason game, and attendance was already at capacity. The thing about winning the Stanley Cup was that people expected you to do it again. And again.

  My gaze went to the family box like it had the whole game. Annabelle sat with Faith, a wide smile on her face as she waved. I gave her a nod and put my attention back on the game. Having her here was damned distracting, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Besides, it was the first game she’d ever seen, so I was sure the novelty would wear off.

  Or not. I almost missed a shift change because I had my eye on Annabelle again.

  By third period we were up three to one, and Lukas put another one in at the buzzer for the four-one win. Damn, did I love the feel of a win.

  We came off the ice and hit the showers. Preseason meant zero press for the majority of us, which included me.

  “Good job, Sterling,” I told the rookie goalie as I hauled my bag out of the locker room.

  “All five minutes that I played?” He asked with a wry grin.

  “Did ye let any in during those five minutes?” I asked, half out the door.

  “No,” he answered, rubbing his hand over his hair.

  “Good job, Sterling,” I repeated with a grin, then walked out. I’d give the kid some proper hazing over the next few weeks, but not today. Today he deserved the win, just like the rest of us.

  Next week gave me ample time to work up a proper prank to welcome him to the team.

  I turned down the hallway toward the ice, near the area I’d asked Annabelle to meet me.

  “No, seriously, he asked me to wait here.”

  Annabelle’s voice echoed down the concrete hall, and I picked up my pace at the sound of her agitation.

  “Right, like he asked all of us,” another feminine voice countered.

  “Look, honey, I’ve seen his type, and you aren’t it, bless your little heart,” another woman added.

  Bloody hell.

  I turned the corner and saw Wade—one of the security guys—ushering a group of women out of the hall, including Annabelle.

  “Wade, hold on a minute,” I called out.

  He paused and lowered his outstretched arms when he saw me. “Sorry, Mr. MacDhuibh. I don’t know how they snuck in here.”

  “I didn’t sneak,” Annabelle argued with narrowed eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m with him.” Shit, her face was bright red.

  The lass was pissed and likely embarrassed, which was even worse.

  One of the bunnies behind her scoffed. “Yeah, right. And I’m with Sawyer McCoy.”

  “Wade, kick those three out,” I motioned toward the women with the skin-tight jeans and cropped hockey jerseys. “The classy one is with me, aren’t you gorgeous?”

  Annabelle cocked an eyebrow at me but uncrossed her arms from her black, form-fitted Reaper jacket.

  “Come on, Annabelle, let’s go home, lass.” I held out the hand that wasn’t carrying my sticks. For the barest of seconds, I worried that she might turn me down.

  “It’s a good thing you’re hot, MacDhuibh,” she said with a tilt of her head, but she took my hand.

  I didn’t miss the way one of the bunnies’ jaws dropped, and neither did Annabelle.

  “Wade, she’s always allowed back here, okay? I can get her a pass or whatever she needs, but she has full access,” I told the guard.

  “Absolutely, Mr. MacDhuibh. I’ll make sure the other guys know, but it would help if Mrs. Pierce-Nyström got her a badge. Ma’am, I’m sorry. But it’s my job to keep…fans out of this area.”

  “No offense taken,” Annabelle replied softly, but her hand tightened in mine.

  Wade ushered the other women out the door as Annabelle and I turned to head toward the parking lot.

  “You know, that might not have happened if you were wearing my jersey,” I teased. But the thought had merit. Just the idea of her in nothing but my jersey stirred my cock. My name on her back. My number. Mine.

  I knew I was in for it when she huffed a fake laugh.

  She was silent on the thirty-minute drive home, and by the time we pulled into the garage, I’d played out every possible argument in my head, trying to arm myself with rebuttals for whatever she came up with.

  “Does that happen a lot?” she asked as we walked into the house.

  “Wade kicking fans out of the halls?” I dropped my keys on the counter.

  “Women waiting in the halls,” she answered softly, tucking her chin.

  “Fuck,” I muttered. Of all the arguments I’d run through, this was the one I feared most. “Come with me.”

  I held out my hand and sent up a prayer of thanks when she took it and followed me upstairs. We didn’t stop until we reached the large shower in the master bedroom. Letting go of her hand, I stepped inside and turned on the water, then got out before it could soak me.

  “Get naked.” I stripped off my shirt.

  Her mouth popped open. “I’m sorry?”

  “I’ll answer the question once you’re naked.”

  She looked at me like I’d lost my mind, but started stripping. Great, and now I was as hard as the tile in the shower. Clearly, I hadn’t thought this part out well enough. But how could I not be when she bared every delectable curve?

  I almost forgot the whole purpose of doing this up here when she stepped out of her purple lace panties and stood there in all her perfection.

  “Shite. God give me strength,” I muttered a prayer.

  Taking her hand, I pulled her into the massive shower. Then I pressed Annabelle against the water-warmed stone wall and caged her with my palms on either side of her.

  “Why are we naked?” she challenged, only letting her gaze dart down my chest before jerking it back to my face.

  “I thought it through and decided it’s harder to argue while you’re naked.”

  Her jaw dropped, and not in a good way.

  “Think about it, lass. Have we ever traded cross words while we were both undressed?” I leaned in just enough so she could feel how badly I wanted her.

  She rolled her eyes, but a faint smile lifted her lips.

  “Listen to me, Annabelle.” My voice dropped. “Yes, there are always women in the hallways at the rink. They’re in the hotel bars, and the elevators and the really sneaky ones are outside our hotel rooms. I’ll never lie to you, lass.”

  Her gaze dropped, and I lifted her chin with my thumb.

  “But I’ll never touch one of them. Not as long as you’re mine. Ye have my word.” That was something I didn’t give lightly. I wondered if she knew that.
<
br />   “Our lives couldn’t be any more different,” she whispered as her hands grazed my waist. “And I’m not saying that I don’t trust you, but confronting the reality is hard to swallow.”

  “You’ll hear things. It can’t be helped. You’ll hear rumors that I’m sleeping around at away games. You’ll see old pictures of me in the tabloids that they’ll publish like they’re new. You’ll have a million reasons to doubt me, and only one reason trust me.” I just hoped it was enough, that my strong, stubborn Annabelle wouldn’t take the easy way out and run.

  “Which is?” she asked, running her fingers down my back, interrupting the streams of hot water from the showerheads.

  “In only want ye. There’s no other woman who tempts me like ye do. Who gets me hard with a look or a whisper. I’ll never go looking for what I have right here. Nothing else compares. I’ll never do anything to jeopardize what we have. You don’t have to worry about those women in the halls or the bars. All I see is ye.” And seeing her was a major reason that my brilliant idea of having this argument in the shower was turning out to be not so brilliant. Her body was close, and warm, and soft and so fucking distracting.

  She swallowed. “That sounds like more than one reason.”

  “Not really. It’s all because when I think about ye, I’m realizing more every day that I’m falling—”

  She clamped her hand over my mouth.

  “Don’t you dare say it. Don’t even think it.” She shook her head. “You start leading me down that road, and it will only break my heart when you finally realize that a summer fling can’t hold a candle to the life you really lead.”

  If not for the panic in her eyes, I’d have said the words anyway. I’d have made her listen to me. But there was a plea in those brown depths that I couldn’t ignore. She wasn’t ready, and I had to respect that, or what the hell were we really doing? Wasn’t that what a relationship was? Supporting your partner?

  I licked her palm, and she gasped, snatching her hand away.

  “Okay. Then let’s get something straight. This, right here with you, is my real life. My home. My town. My Annabelle.” I kissed the skin just beneath her jaw to punctuate my sentences.

 

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