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, w
ashed 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.
“Are you okay?” he asked. His hips rocked against her ass, evoking yet more bliss.
“God, yes. This is…it’s so much more…I can’t…”
He laughed against her neck. “Yeah, that’s how I remember it too.”
The image of Garrick’s face smashed to the bed, a huge cock jammed in his ass, feeling what she was feeling, made her shudder. Her sphincter clamped down on his shaft and held him deep within her.
He whispered a heartfelt expletive. “You ready to go on?”
Holy shit, was she ever. She nodded. “Please.”
She expected him to lift his big body up off hers again, but she wasn’t prepared for him to wrap his arms around her ribs and lift her with him.
He brought them both up onto their knees, his sliding between hers as she came down on his lap. Her weight drove his cock deeper, higher than it had been before.
“Garrick!”
His answer was to punch his hips upwards, shoving into her. His arms around her waist and across her chest to held her upright as he drew out as far as he could, then thrust up again once more.
How did he do it? How did he know all the ways to drive her wild?
She moaned. Shouted. Cried out his name. Words of praise spilled from her with every thrust, her body singing with zings of electricity with every retreat.
She was so enthralled, she didn’t feel his hand move until he thrust two thick fingers deep into her pussy.
“Oh god. Yes, please, do that too!”
Garrick thrust mercilessly into her ass, into her pussy, and she clenched his cock, his fingers, and rode him harder. Faster. Running headlong into the ecstasy she knew waited. So close. So, so close.
Garrick’s arms tightened, a low growl vibrating in his chest as he shoved her down onto his cock, hard, and ground himself up into her. His shaft swelled, her sensitive entrance stretching as he gasped for breath and she lost the ability to breathe altogether.
The first pulse of his come was warm in her ass. His shout of pleasure rang in her ears. Her body convulsed as her orgasm welled up and out of her, thrumming across her nerves, rippling over his fingers, and clenching his shaft.
The pulses in her backside went on forever, his groan sounding almost painful, eventually choking off his breath.
They fell together, his arms still around her, his cock still lodged in her ass as they collapsed, euphoric, spent.
It was a long time before coherent thought returned, and with it the fervent wish she didn’t have to get on that plane to Boston. She would rather spend the day right here, slowly floating back to earth just so they could take the trip back into the stratosphere once more.
That thought alone prodded her out of bed and into the shower. On to the airport. She stood, waiting for her flight, and with a sinking heart, accepted that she missed him already.
Chapter Twenty
Garrick sprawled face down across the sheets, the comforter tangled around his waist. The sun streaming in through the open curtains warmed his bare back. Savannah had crawled out of bed after their lovemaking and accused him of trying to make her late for her flight. Her smile had said she didn’t mind in the slightest.
He’d briefly considered following her into the shower, but had known where it would lead. As much as he hated that he would sleep alone in this bed for the next three nights, he was glad she’d made her flight and would have an opportunity to show the Bruins what she could do.
He had a good feeling about this interview, even if it made him nauseous to contemplate what it would mean when she got the job.
He rolled onto his back and stretched, his back cracking, his hip twinging as he arched his body up off the bed. He smiled. No way in hell he was going to tell Savannah their lovemaking was exacerbating his hip pain.
He didn’t see the note on his bedside table until he stood to go into the bathroom. His name was written in Savannah’s tidy penmanship across the front, the folded paper propped against the vibrator he’d left out to dry after cleaning it the night before. He smirked, tickled by her shameless humor. She’d come a long way from the woman who was afraid to make noise when she was aroused, who was ashamed of her own enthusiasm.
He plucked up the note and opened it as he walked across the cold floor, stopping in the middle of the room as he read.
Duncan Morrison 202.266.2360
Callum Morrison 303.405.1105
You asked if I knew anyone who wanted to buy a hockey team. They’re expecting your call. Good luck. ~ S.
Garrick blinked, hardly believing his eyes.
The Morrison brothers were two of the hottest properties in the NHL. He barely resisted the urge to smack his own forehead. She’d told him all her brothers played hockey. He just hadn’t realized she meant some of them played hockey professionally.
Now he knew who was assigned the Olympic Anthem ringtone on her cell phone. Callum, goalie with the Colorado Avalanche, had a silver medal. He and Duncan, who was a winger for the Washington Capitals, had a good chance of going to the next games, too.
And if he wasn’t mistaken, one of her other brothers played in the WHL in Vancouver. And there was an infamous legend about another Morrison leading his team at Harvard to a championship before leaving the sport to pursue his Ph.D.
Garrick staggered back to the bed and sat down hard.
Did Savannah’s brothers want to buy the Moncton Ice Cats?
Hope surged. Tossing the note down on the mattress, he bolted into the bathroom to take a quick shower then threw on his workou
t clothes. He grabbed the paper again on his way to the kitchen. He had to get his fitness routine done or his trainer, not to mention his groin and hip, might never forgive him. But in the meantime, he could leave a voicemail or two.
He nearly swallowed his tongue when Callum picked up after two rings. “Hello, Garrick. You being good to my sister?”
“Uhhh…” Garrick floundered, totally unprepared for one of his heroes to answer his call, let alone address him by name. He stumbled for a response, unsure what Savannah had told her brother but one hundred percent certain that revealing anything would land him in the doghouse. Possibly for life.
Callum Morrison chuckled. “I can tell she’s got you well trained already. Join the club. Six bothers, and not one of us would dare cross her. She’s damn bossy. But I bet you know that already.”
Garrick was glad Callum couldn’t see his face heating. “She likes to think of it as persuasive.”
Callum’s laughter boomed down the line. “Oh man, she’s got your number. Though, look at me talking to you about buying some damn hockey team. I guess she is pretty persuasive after all.”
Garrick’s gut clenched. “If you have some time, I’d like to talk to you about that very thing.”
“I bet you would,” Callum said, a smile in his voice. “Give me a second to figure out how to conference Duncan in on this damn phone and we’ll talk about what’s possible and what’s not. You got numbers for us?”
“I’ve got some.”
“Savannah says you’re good with numbers. That you’ve got the chops for the business side of this thing.”
She did? A flush of pleasure warmed Garrick and eased the roiling nerves in his gut. “I have a business plan.”
“We’ve seen it. That’s why we’re talking. Hold on while I get Duncan.”
The following night, Savannah sat in the owner’s box at the Boston Garden, watching the Bruins play for a sold-out crowd. The noise was awesome, the fans roaring as the team fought for a win in a closely matched game.
Fair Play (Hat Trick, Book 1) Page 17