Gauging the Player: A One-Night-Stand Sports Romance (The Playmakers Series Hockey Romance Book 3)

by G. K. Brady

  His balls tightened, but before she could finish him off, he sat up and hauled her upright. Somehow, the water level had dropped to about a foot.

  “I want to be inside you,” he gritted out.

  Hands planted on the tub walls on either side of his head, she positioned herself above him. He stroked himself once, twice, then held himself in place.

  He was breathing hard, and a jaw muscle jumped. “Ride me, beautiful Lily.”

  She lowered herself gradually, fascinated by his contorted expressions as she took him in inch by sweet inch. His features cycled between concentration, frustration, and pure pleasure. Eyes half-lidded, hands clamped on her hips, he repeated her name in one long, continuous exhale as she started to move. It was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard.

  She willed herself to keep a slow rhythm, to prolong the exquisite torment, but her knees dug into the porcelain. His hands and powerful thrusts took over the pace, speeding up. Her moans turned to cries, and his groans became shouts. Her orgasm blasted through her body, shattering her into fragments. He followed right after, clutching her to him, and buried his face in the crook of her neck.

  Her heart beat double-time in sync with his, and her breathing was labored and uneven. She remained pressed to him until the world finally stopped spinning, and she pulled back and smiled at him. “You make an excellent sex stud.”

  A smile lifted one corner of his mouth as he caught his breath. “It’s all about the woman who rules me.” He pushed his hands into her damp hair and gathered it up. His eyes softened and mined hers, his expression unbearably tender. “And you do rule me, Lily.”

  His words made part of her leap with joy, but they struck terror into another, darker part deep down inside her—the part where her specters roamed.

  Warning bells clanged dimly in the background, but she ignored them.

  The bathtub inauguration was followed by a shower—to clean up after the bath, of course. A shower filled with scorching kisses and more soapy explorations of one another’s bodies. They were squeaky clean when the hot water finally ran out.

  Lily’s proverbial Pandora’s box had been blown wide open, and though she was as sore as a trail rider after ten days in the saddle—totally worth it—she couldn’t get enough of Gage’s body. Her stud muffin took his job seriously and was up to the task, so to speak, of satisfying her suddenly insatiable appetite.

  When they finally fell into bed, utterly wrung out, she drifted off instantly, cradled in his arms.

  She awoke sometime during the night, sweating beside his blasting furnace self. He was wrapped around her like a tortilla wrapped around the contents of a burrito, his body generating enough heat to warm a yurt. She inched away to cool down, propping herself against a pillow. He let out a low moan but remained on his side, facing her.

  Dim light touched the angles of his face, softened by sleep. Long eyelashes fanned across high cheekbones, and his full mouth was parted oh so enticingly. She fought the urge to nibble those lips she was growing so fond of.

  A sheet covered the lower half of his body, leaving his shoulders, chest and arms exposed. Her eyes surveyed it all, drinking him in, memorizing every detail. Even though his muscles were slack, their definition was no less impressive, and she wanted to run her tongue over them again. She licked her lips and instantly admonished herself for it.

  Lily Everett, nymphomaniac.

  But it wasn’t just the sex, which was so far out of this world it existed in its own galaxy. No, the sex wouldn’t have been so amazing had it not been for the man himself. A man she enjoyed doing little things for, who spurred her to want to feed him, love him, take care of him.

  Her heart suddenly flooded with tenderness over the small, ever-present things—the way he pushed her hair off her face, the way his eyes gleamed when she sang, the way he let the cat he’d rescued own him. The way he spoke of his grandmother.

  In less than twelve hours, she would go back to her world. And then what? Was tonight just an extension of July? She didn’t want it to be, yet how could it be otherwise? Her daughter had already lost a father. If Lily let herself fall in love and it didn’t work out, it wouldn’t be only her heart that would be broken—Daisy’s would become part of the wreckage. What right did she have to drag her daughter through a minefield of her love affairs?

  And then there was Jack. Though she tried to lock out the crushing guilt over being with another man, it was always there, lurking in the back corners of her mind, taunting her with the word “betrayal.”

  During his last weeks, Jack had teased her about not finding another man too soon. To make her laugh, he’d said, to see her smile through the rivers of tears they’d shed together. But had he been teasing?

  What if he were looking down on her now? Would he be hurt? Was this how she served his memory? By lying in another man’s bed?

  But she was alive, damn it, and he wasn’t.

  Gage sighed in his sleep, startling Lily from her memories. She swiped at a tear that slid down her cheek and went back to studying him.

  Though there was much she didn’t know about Gage Nelson, she did know he was a good man. With a big heart. He put others first, in quiet, humble ways, like giving of himself to his family, his team, his community from his seemingly bottomless well.

  But he was also a professional athlete in his prime. Barring injury, his career stretched far into the future and would dictate his life for years to come. What would it be like to be bound to someone who could be bounced from city to city? To another country? How would those moves affect Daisy? Gage had described being traded from San Jose, how he’d had to leave the very day he’d been traded and play for his new team that night. How difficult it had been. What if she and Daisy were at the mercy of that sort of upheaval?

  A chill settled in, and Lily pulled the covers to her chest and slid beneath them. Beside her, Gage mumbled, and his hand stirred over the sheets until it brushed her arm. He closed around it and hauled her against him, moaning soft and long. As he spooned her, his hands glided over her bare skin, coming to rest on her shoulder and stomach. She tugged his hands to her chest and covered them with hers.

  “Lily,” he mumbled as he settled against her.

  Too many questions ran through her head. For now, she would enjoy the simple contentment of feeling safe in his arms—safer than she’d felt in a long, long time.

  Chapter 23

  Red Light, Green Light

  Gage stood behind the wheel of a speedboat. As it smoothly skimmed the water, its engine purred with a powerful rumble. Wind whipped his hair. The freedom was awesome!

  “Meow.”

  He lifted one eyelid. The speedboat dissolved into an orange tabby cat who reverberated with a loud purr.

  “Meow.” Hobbes batted at his nose.

  “Are you serious right now?” Gage grumbled. Beside him something soft, warm, and naked stirred, and he glanced over his shoulder and smiled.

  A dull dawn washed the room in varying shades of monochrome, offering weak light that illuminated golden curls on the pillow beside his. Lily was snuggled against his back, her arm draped over his middle, her weighty breasts squashed against him. Cute little mewling noises came from her. Cool as the speedboat dream was, coming out of it was so much nicer. He’d awakened in heaven.

  “Meow.”

  A heaven the damn cat was dragging him away from.

  “Bad timing, cat.” He gingerly slid out of bed, gathering Hobbes in his arms, and trudged downstairs. “Remind me again why I thought letting you live here was a good idea because right now I can’t come up with a single reason.”

  A series of body-shaking yawns later, he’d filled the cat’s bowls, taken a leak, and was back upstairs. When he walked into his bedroom, he was squarely back in heaven because Lily was seated upright, naked to her waist, stretching her arms above her head, her eyes closed. Her curls were a silky blond froth surrounding her angelic face. She took his breath away. He gawked like a horny
teenager—or a horny twenty-six-year-old man. The sight jolted him awake quicker than downing a pot of coffee.

  He closed the door behind him. Her arms dropped, and her eyes popped open. A shy smile curved her lips, and she began pulling the covers up.

  “Morning, Goldilocks.” He climbed on the bed, walking on his knees, and pulled the covers from her. “I hate to see this perfect view covered up.” A pretty blush rose up her cheeks, and he leaned down and kissed her.

  When he pulled away and sat back on his knees, her eyes roamed over him, settling unabashedly on his engorged cock. “Is this how you walk around every morning, Professor?”

  “You mean without clothes, or with a raging hard-on?”

  “Both,” she giggled.

  “Only when you’re here.” Still on his knees, he sat up and stroked himself. “See something you want?” Yeah, he was playing a cocky SOB, but he was having hella fun. She didn’t seem to mind.

  She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “For a professor, you sure don’t act very professor-y.” Her smile turned wicked, and her eyes traveled back to his hand on his shaft—and widened.

  That was all the encouragement he needed. He slid his hand up and down, flashing her a grin. “I thought you changed my job description last night from professor to sex stud.” He paused and struck a beefcake pose, adding a Michael Jackson pelvic thrust because he thought he could.

  Turns out he couldn’t because she fell to one side and began laughing hysterically.

  He choked back his own laughter. “Killing me here.” Hips gyrating, his movements becoming more ridiculous, he was fairly certain he looked like a cross between a mechanical bull and Gumby. He really didn’t want to know.

  She was whooping now and slapping her palm against the mattress.

  “Hey!” he barked. “Putting on my best stud moves, and you’re laughing?” He could barely get the words out without falling over in a fit laughter. He walked on his knees toward her until he was inches away. “And as you can see, I am one hundred percent primed, although if you keep laughing …”

  She pulled herself upright and wiped silly tears from her face, no longer aware that she was fully exposed herself. And he wasn’t stupid enough to remind her of this fact.

  With a chuckle, he stroked himself again. “All yours if you care to take over.”

  Body still shuddering with giggles, she sat up on her knees and faced him. Then she wrapped her hand around him. He pulled in a sharp breath, going from hilarity to gotta-have-you-now in a heartbeat.

  Her fingers played along his length, sending his heart rate into outer space. She nipped his neck, then soothed it with her tongue. “Bossy sex stud,” she purred, “It’s past time you performed your duties.”

  “On it. I will not let it be said that I am a sex stud who shirks his duties.”

  Covers drawn to her necklace, Lily snuggled against Gage’s chest as he reclined against the headboard, his arm draped around her slender shoulders. He dropped a kiss on her head. “If we were smokers …”

  She chuckled, and the motion tickled him. “What do you call what we just did? I’m surprised we didn’t incinerate the room.”

  He didn’t disagree, which was probably obvious from his stupid grin. “What would Goldilocks like for breakfast this morning? I can cook something, or we can go out.”

  “What time is it?”

  “A little after six, I think.”

  “Oh! So early. What time did you wake up?”

  “Five? Four thirty? Technically, Hobbes woke me up. It couldn’t have been too early because it was getting light out.” He brushed her hair back, more because he loved touching it than because it needed to be brushed back. She canted her head and looked up at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Just thinking how quickly things can change in twenty-four hours. Yesterday morning, I wouldn’t have dreamed we’d be doing this.” She waved a hand between them.

  “You mean having sex, eating, having more sex, sleeping fifteen minutes, fucking, and fucking again?” A laugh rumbled through his chest. “Gotta say I’m a big fan of how I woke up this morning. You?” I could so get used to this.

  Her laughter joined his. “Don’t forget the bath and shower.”

  “I rolled those into the general fucking category.”

  “Seriously, how does that work when you have to be in tip-top shape for your games?”

  “You think what we’re doing isn’t keeping me in tip-top shape?”

  She slapped his chest. “You know what I mean. You have to eat healthy, sleep healthy, work out healthy. How does sex fit in? Especially if you’re awake all night doing it?” A mischievous gleam danced in her eyes.

  “Well, there’s a little room for less-than-perfect behavior. But Coach likes us to … well, abstain for at least forty-eight hours before a game. He thinks the extra testosterone makes us more aggressive. But my last coach said sex was fine the night before. He thought it helped take the edge off and made it easier to focus.”

  She sat up, an alarmed expression on her face. “You have a game tonight.”

  “And you and Daisy are coming.” The thought warmed him—he was stoked to have Daisy there. Showing off was a definite possibility tonight.

  “That’s not what I meant. Did I just mess you up for tonight? And don’t you have to go skate this morning?”

  “No morning skate. Coach suspends it this late in the season. As for ‘messing me up,’” he shrugged, “I doubt it makes a difference. But in any case, it’s too late now. Which means we can keep doing this all day and it won’t change how I play tonight.” He playfully tugged at her covers, but she kept them firmly in place.

  “Uh-uh, Professor. You need to save your strength. I’m not going to be the reason you have a bad game.”

  “I won’t have a bad game.” He leaned in for a kiss, which she gave him. “But you’re right about one thing. I need to start fueling up.”

  A half-hour later, he slid poached eggs on their plates and added whole-grain toast. They were back at the kitchen counter, and Lily’s eyes were fixed on the gray palette beyond the windows as she nibbled at her food. She was dressed in Sarah’s pajama pants and a light blue sweatshirt that highlighted her eyes. The clothes were a little baggy on her, but it didn’t matter. Lily would look beautiful in a sack.

  He couldn’t remember feeling this comfortable with anyone before. They laughed at the same jokes, enjoyed the same music, and shared a similar, even demeanor. They could be talking or not, and it felt right.

  And in bed? He’d never experienced anything like it. Ever. Their lovemaking went to a whole new level he’d never known existed. She brought out a boldness in him and matched it with her own. They fed off each other’s energy, practically combusting when they got going. It left him hungry for more.

  He sipped his orange juice, studying her over the rim of the glass. Flawless skin, golden hair like twining silk, and eyes with the depths of the blue Pacific. As he took her in, an arrow buried itself in his chest. It was almost painful, but at the same time something warm seeped out and encased his heart. He could feel himself tumbling, falling deeper under her spell.

  Emotions bubbled over and rushed out of him at once.

  “Come with me to the Bay Area and meet my family,” he blurted.

  Shit. Judging by her wide-eyed expression and the fork clattering from her hand, he should have kept that idea bottled up. At least it was better than yelling the second half of the thought: “Come live with me!”

  “What?” she part-laughed, part-yelped.

  He reached over and took her hands in his. “Listen, I’m serious. We get a couple of days off in a few weeks before the big playoff push. I want to bring you and Daisy with me.”

  She blinked, and her mouth went slack.

  Too much too soon. Shit! Back the hell up, doofus.

  With a headshake, she seemed to recover. “That’s really sweet, but it feels a bit, um, sudden. Besides, Daisy’s
in school.”

  But he liked the idea of going on vacation with them. Maybe someplace else? Where his family didn’t live? “Okay. Here’s a different idea. Ever seen the ice castles in Dillon?”

  She shook her head.

  “Neither have I, but they look really cool, and we could drive there in under two hours.”

  Lily’s mouth opened and closed a few times. He barreled ahead. “Can Daisy miss a few days of kindergarten? That’s about all the time I’ll have anyway.”

  “Where would we stay?”

  His heart rate did a two-step—she hadn’t said no. “I can rent us a house or a condo with plenty of room.” He grabbed his phone, swiped, tapped, and scrolled. “Here’s an Airbnb three-bedroom house with a hot tub and views.” He held it up to her. “You could even have your own room. Of course, if you decide to visit your sex stud in the middle of the night and put him to work, he’d be totally down with it.”

  She glanced up at him, and he winked. Her eyes landed back on his phone. “It’s almost six hundred dollars a night!”

  “Your point being …?”

  “That’s a lot of money!” Her gaze shot back to his. So much seemed to stream through her eyes, as though she were calculating a series of equations.

  “I can afford it.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” she murmured.

  “I do. Say yes.”

  “Can I think about it?”

  “Of course.” He lifted her hands to his lips and placed a kiss in each palm.

  A wave of pink colored her face. He liked his chances. He’d figure out later how to break it to his mom that he was canceling his plans to come home.

  They spent the rest of the morning lounging—playing music, laughing, talking, and abandoning a board game midway through to roll around in the sheets one more time. Lily couldn’t remember when she’d been so relaxed, and it wasn’t only the sex marathon that had chilled her out. It was simply being with him.