End Game

by Samantha Wayland

  End Game

  Hat Trick Book Three

  Samantha Wayland

  Also by Samantha Wayland

  Destiny Calls

  With Grace

  Hat Trick Book One: Fair Play

  Hat Trick Book Two: Two Man Advantage

  End Game

  Copyright © 2014 Samantha Wayland

  Published by Loch Awe Press

  P.O. Box 5481

  Wayland, MA 01778

  ISBN 9781940839042

  Edited by Meghan Conrad

  Cover Art by Caitlin Fry

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are a product of the author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Loch Awe Press, PO Box 5481, Wayland, MA 01778.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Dedication

  For Meghan. You get all the metaphorical cookies.

  Acknowledgements

  As always, I must thank my beloved husband, who is still putting up with me after all these years. I’m not sure how he does it some days.

  Many thanks also to Victoria Morgan, Penny Watson, Bobbi Ruggiero and Stephanie Kay for their support and friendship. Thanks to Dalton Diaz for always being my rock. And to Serena Bell, who gets credit for talking me down from the ledge on this one.

  And to Kari, who I should have acknowledged in the first two books in the series as well. She is not only the person who introduced me to the genre, but a good friend and remarkable beta reader who never misses anything.

  Chapter One

  Savannah threw the door open, the bang of it ricocheting off the wall lost to her whoop of joy as she threw herself into Garrick’s arms and he sealed her lips with his. They were probably putting on one hell of a show for the neighbors, but Garrick didn’t give a shit.

  He kissed her long and hard, their tongues warring. Her back hit the wall and she squeaked as their bodies slammed together.

  He pulled back and stared into big, smoky green eyes, his heart galloping, and smiled.

  “God, I missed you.”

  She grinned, looking around the hall before glancing over her shoulder into their apartment.

  “Would you like to come in?”

  Would he ever.

  He staggered through the door. Not because of the woman in his arms or the heavy bag on his shoulder, but because his knees were weak with relief.

  It had been two long months since they’d last seen each other, and so much had happened since. Hell, they’d been apart longer than they’d been together. He’d fallen for her so hard, so completely, that their relatively short time in Moncton had been more than enough for him to know that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

  Holding her in his arms now, he was more certain than ever.

  “I love you.”

  A slow smile spread across her face. “I love you, too.”

  He sighed and buried his face in her hair. “I’m so fucking glad.” He’d been nervous on his flight from Moncton. Practically sweating by the time he got in his taxi at Logan Airport. So much could have changed. So much had changed.

  But not this.

  She stoked his back as he carried her down the hall and into the kitchen. Depositing her on the counter, he looked around curiously. He felt like he knew this place already after seeing the pictures and taking a Skype tour with her, but it was amazing to see it in person at last.

  In a few more months—when he could finally get the hell out of Moncton—this would be his home. They’d always have the farmhouse up north, but as long as Savannah was the athletic trainer for the Bruins, he’d find a way to do as much of his work as possible from Boston.

  There was also the small matter that his boyfriend, Rhian, also lived here in Boston. And played for the Bruins.

  “Do you like it?” Savannah asked, jerking him back the present.

  Sunlight flooded the open rooms, bright on the scarred wood floors and exposed brick wall in the living room. The bay windows, high ceilings and skylights made the space a unique mix of old meets new. The chandelier in the dining room hung from a velvet rope, the streak of crimson startling, the classic fixture more striking because of its modernized surroundings.

  “I love it. It’s beautiful.”

  She stared at him, not the room. “Yeah, it is.”

  Her half-lidded gaze set him on fire. Sometimes he was overwhelmed by his extraordinary good fortune in finding her—and that she’d stayed with him in spite of the curveballs thrown their way.

  Savannah cocked her head. “You okay?”

  He grasped her hips and pulled her to the edge of the counter, his heart thumping as she wound her arms around his neck and smiled up at him.

  “Yeah. I was just thinking how fucking lucky I am to have you.”

  “That you are,” she said. “And it’s entirely mutual.”

  God, he hoped that was true. He hoped like hell he wasn’t fucking up everything by discovering he could love two people at once. “I’m sorry it’s been so long. That I couldn’t come see you sooner.”

  She smiled and arched an eyebrow. “I can think of a few ways you can make it up to me.”

  A slow smile spread across Garrick’s gorgeous face, his amber eyes heating to warm chocolate. Savannah felt a familiar and gratifying roll of her heart.

  “I really missed you,” she said, capturing his lips, lost for a moment in his taste. His scent.

  He dragged his mouth over her cheek, tilting her head back with his. She gleefully relinquished control as he nibbled under her jaw, teasing her ear with tongue and lips and whispering his love between each suck and bite.

  Her heart swelled with each word. This was real. It was the same.

  His erection, full and thick, dug into the juncture of her thighs and she squirmed against it. It was so goddamn good to be this close to him again.

  He hitched her off the counter and she twined her legs around his waist.

  “Bedroom. Now,” she demanded.

  He stalked through the apartment, unerringly navigating to their bedroom. She landed on the bed with a bounce and immediately began to tear off her clothes.

  He stopped her with his hands. “Wait. I want to do it.”

  Oh yes. Yes yes yes.

  She held her arms out to the sides and smiled, loving the answering quirk of his lips. She was his to do with as he pleased. And he knew it. This was the Garrick she remembered. The man she’d fallen in love with in Moncton. He was irresistible, then and now.

  His dark gaze traced over her with something like awe and she enjoyed the hell out of it. He was damn lucky. But no more so than she.

  Every worry and torment she’d suffered over the past two months seemed insignificant now that he was here.

  He stripped out of his clothes and she feasted her eyes on his skin. His shoulders, chest and pecs flexed and stretched while he rid himself of his shirt. Hi
s lean hips and long, thick thighs looked strong as he stepped out of his jeans. Always a trainer at heart, she spared his right hip an extra glance and saw no sign of pain. Though honestly, it wouldn’t have made a damn bit of difference if she had. Nothing would stop her from having him above her, around her, in her.

  He was more than able-bodied at that moment, as far as she was concerned. At six and a half feet tall, he towered above her. Their ten-foot ceilings looked not nearly as grand for the first time since she’d moved in.

  He fit perfectly in their space. He belonged here. With her.

  His rigid cock pointed away from his body as if reaching out to her. She knew where that would fit in perfectly, too. Just where it belonged.

  He pushed her back onto the mattress and tucked her hands to her sides, beginning the slow, torturous process of removing her clothes. Anyone else might have done it quickly. But not Garrick. He took his time, stopping to worship each inch of skin as it was revealed. He’d done this before, and the feel of his lips, the tickle of cold air when he moved on to the next spot, made her crazy in all good ways. She tried not to squirm, her heart pounding as he relentlessly ratcheted her anticipation up to near painful levels.

  She cherished each brush of his stubbled cheek on her belly, the slow drag of the velvet tip of his nose along her hip and over her collarbone.

  She’d felt spoiled when he’d done this in the past. But not today. Today it was the affirmation she needed, appeasing the doubts that had plucked at her heart.

  She had needed to come to Boston for her dream job.

  She did want him to take a lover and tell her all about it.

  He could love her and Rhian at the same time.

  He coaxed the last of the tension from her body, and she moved wherever his insistent, infuriatingly slow hands asked her to. She lifted her hips and legs, arched her back, letting him remove the last of the barriers between them.

  He peeled her bra away and captured one nipple with his lips, his crow’s feet fanning out from the corners of his eyes as he smiled up at her. Then he seized the peak between his teeth.

  The delicate pinch sent a bolt of lightning straight through her. Her clit throbbed. He knew just what she needed. Read her like a book. She writhed on the bed, rubbing her legs against his as he rolled above her, supporting his weight on his elbows and bringing their lower bodies into full, delicious contact.

  “Please, Garrick.”

  She ran her hands up over his strong arms, then down his chest, his skin warm and firm. Her thumb caught on one cinnamon nipple and rubbed until it pebbled, while her fingers cupped to tickle the underside of his pec. The catch of his breath against her neck was gratifying.

  “Please what?” he teased.

  She could feel his smile against the sensitive patch of skin beneath her ear.

  She’d missed this most of all. It had been a revelation to learn she could have laughter and friendship and sex, all rolled into one wild ride. Nothing to fear. No request too crazy, no shame to be found anywhere. The freedom that came with Garrick’s love was heady. Liberating.

  Still, she tried to look suitably stern when he raised his head to look down at her. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

  He winked. “The best kind.”

  She grinned. No arguments there.

  She wrapped her legs around the familiar warmth and breadth of his ribs, and her groan tangled with his as he pressed her into the mattress, forcing her thighs wide. The full lengths of their bodies fitted together, at last, settling into the dips and curves as if made for one another.

  She’d had no idea how much she’d needed this.

  He shifted until his cock nestled into her slick, swollen folds. It was hard to tell who wriggled harder, pressed closer. She couldn’t control the twitch of her hips, desperate to feel him against her. In her. The drag of his heavy shaft along her clit made her whimper.

  He stilled her with a hand, and then with one long, slow thrust, penetrated her to the hilt.

  “Garrick!”

  The stretch was un-fucking-believably good. Intense pleasure rushed from her toes to her fingertips, lighting her up. She’d gone so long without this—without being filled. He was a big guy, tall, broad, and blessedly, blessedly proportional. Perfect.

  His whispered prayer barely reached her ear. “Oh, thank god.”

  He surged deeper and his name tore from her again. His pelvic bone ground against her clit and she panted against his neck, already, and he hadn’t even begun. Not really. She knew what it would become, how thoroughly he could and would fuck her, and the idea alone almost sent her spiraling into her first orgasm.

  She needed him to move.

  She wanted to beg, but was captivated by the picture he made above her. His eyes closed, he held himself perfectly still. She brushed her fingers through his hair, the other hand cupping his cheek.

  “Are you okay?”

  His little smile sent a rush of happiness through her. He opened his eyes, so close to her that she could see the few striations of amber left in his dark, hungry gaze. Somehow, the stare felt more intimate than his thick cock lodged deep in her body.

  “You’re kidding, right?” he asked, his smile growing.

  She touched his face gently wither fingertips. “You just looked lost for a moment.”

  “Not lost.” he said and kissed her gently. “Finally home.”

  Garrick captured Savannah’s mouth in a long, drugging kiss, joyfully reacquainting himself with her scent, her texture. Spice and silk. Sex and virtue.

  He’d nearly lost his shit when he’d finally entered the sweet refuge of her body.

  Their lips parted on a gasp. She squirmed against him, begging him to move, but he couldn’t look away from the love and certainty in her gaze.

  He could have stayed like this forever.

  Savannah, though, definitely had other ideas. Long fingers cupped his ass and pulled him in tight. His cock lodged farther into her heat and in a flash, he lost the battle to hold still.

  The next kiss was endless, through gasps and moans, bites and licks. His focus fractured, giving over to their need and the clamor of arousal. Urgency rode him hard, bowing his spine and droving his hips faster. Harder. The sound of their bodies crashing together hardly audible above the constant groans and gasps escaping past tangled tongues and questing lips.

  He’d planned to woo her with soft words. To make gentle love to her. But she didn’t seem to need it. Or want it. The shouts rattling his eardrums and the fingernails piercing his back were evidence enough she was perfectly happy without it. Ecstatic, even.

  He wanted to give her that. Ecstasy. The total loss of control. The feeling of coming unglued in someone else’s arms and knowing you are safe. Cherished. It was always missing from phone sex, Skype sex, any kind of sex they’d managed in the past months. But here, now, anything was possible. That was her greatest gift to him. She made him believe in infinite possibilities.

  He shifted and found the perfect angle. She keened his name and pressed her face to his cheek. Her fingers fisted in his hair. His blood throbbed in his ears.

  He gasped words he could barely understand into her ear. Love. Thank you. So fucking hot. Maybe not poetry for wooing, but all he had left to him was the delirious truth.

  The ferociously swollen head of his cock rubbed hard, time and again, along her clinging walls. She arched against him, bellowing her pleasure. Her wide green eyes mesmerizing as her body clamped down on his aching shaft like a vise.

  There. The ungluing. The brutal honesty and trust. The love.

  So fucking beautiful.

  He ground against her, shuddering with each ripple along his cock. From one second to the next, the spooling blaze of heat and electricity exploded outward and he was flung into the storm of their climax. Senseless with the release. Absolute fucking relief.

  It took a while for him to return to earth, but when he did, the tension left him in a rush. He fell sideways on the be
d, holding her close so that they remained connected.

  She stared at him with heavy eyes, pink cheeks, and the sexiest goddamn smile he’d ever seen.

  He started to laugh, her chuckle joining his as they clung to each other, breathless.

  Chapter Two

  Savannah lay sprawled across the bed, Garrick’s damp face stuck to her stomach, his arms wrapped around her as they tried to catch their breath. He’d walked through the door three hours ago and hadn’t let up since. If she didn’t know him better, she’d search his bags for little blue pills. The man was relentless.

  Not that she was complaining. Hell no, she was not.

  She’d missed him for countless reasons, but somehow her brain had done her the favor of forgetting how she adored the aching dots of fingertip bruises on her hips, or the heat of beard burn on her chest. She wasn’t into pain with her sex—she wasn’t into pain with her anything, thank you—but some tender spots and deep aches she cherished.

  Eventually he peeled himself away from her belly to stumble into the bathroom, rubbing his fingers through his hair. It hadn’t been cut in a while, maybe since she’d left Moncton. The dark circles under his eyes hadn’t escaped her notice either.

  She frowned. He was working himself into the ground. As a newly minted hockey team owner, he was determined to bring the Moncton Ice Cats to the top of the league. She believed he could do it, too, but she was still going to give him hell for taking better care of his players, the stadium, and his team, than he did of himself.

  As if to prove her point, he returned with a warm washcloth and gently cleaned her skin of the latest evidence of their lovemaking. The soothing strokes had her eyelids drooping.

  He tossed the cloth into the bathroom sink while she scooted to the top of the bed and yanked the bedding back onto the mattress from the floor. As soon as he climbed in beside her, they settled into their customary positions, his body spooning hers from behind. She soaked in his warmth, happily beginning to descend into a post-coital coma.