Rhian froze. Garrick chuckled.
Good to know their priorities were still aligned.
With a sigh of regret, he pulled away and forced Rhian’s fingers to slip from his tender hole. He clenched against the emptiness left behind and considered retrieving a butt plug and begging Rhian to shove it in him.
Then he knelt between Rhian’s thighs, looked down at the man sprawled across the bed beneath him, and knew he didn’t need anything else.
Savannah had thought Rhian was gorgeous before? Garrick didn’t know how he’d find words to describe him as he was now. It would be a gift, to be able to share something as beautiful as this with her.
The warmth in Rhian’s gaze tugged at Garrick. His smile hypnotic.
Garrick smiled back, slowly, flooded with gratitude for Savannah. For her generosity. For her love.
For Rhian.
Chapter Nineteen
Rhian lay on the bed and stared up at Garrick as a slow smile spread across his face. Goddamn, Garrick was gorgeous like this. Flushed, breathing hard, without a stitch of clothing so Rhian could enjoy every inch of his wide shoulders, deep chest, and tapered hips.
He trailed his gaze over the curve of Garrick’s ass as he reached to retrieve the lube. Rhian shuddered, imagining what it would be like to sink into those depths, to wrap his hands around those hips and feel those firm cheeks against his belly.
He wanted that. But not as much as he wanted to feel Garrick in him. Tonight. It was shocking, since the idea had never had much appeal before now. But with Garrick it was different.
Rhian stifled a chuckle. How many times had he said that in the last year?
It was always different with Garrick.
He rubbed his hand over the hollow ache in his chest. The ache that had been his companion for a while now. Far longer than they’d been lovers, if he were honest with himself.
He shunted aside the fear before Garrick could see it and bring their adventure to a halt. Rhian had no doubt he would, and it wasn’t like Rhian could explain. He didn’t understand it himself. What mattered now was this. They had one week, then—Rhian swore to himself—he’d get over it.
No problem.
Garrick touched his face. “If I asked what you’re thinking right now, would you tell me?”
Rhian smiled, shoving the sadness in a little box, right next to the fear. “Nope.”
“Will you ever tell me?”
Rhian looked to the ceiling, pretending to give it some thought, before he grinned at Garrick. “Nope.”
Garrick growled good-naturedly and ran his hands down Rhian’s sensitive ribs. His overwhelmed nervous system didn’t process the tickling fingers as anything but more sensual pleasure until Garrick dug into his armpits.
Laughter burst from him and he squirmed, trying to escape.
“Stop! Stop!” he gasped, howling as he rolled away.
Garrick wasn’t having it. He stopped Rhian’s desperate attempt to reach the side of the bed and dragged him back to the middle of the mattress. Rhian was still wheezing when Garrick spun him onto his stomach and lay down on top of him.
Rhian went utterly lax. Garrick chuckled and drew his arms from his sides to fold them above his head, nibbling along the back of his neck as he arranged Rhian however he wished.
Rhian closed his eyes and hummed. He’d never known he had so many damn hot spots back there. But then, he’d never known the power, the peace that was to be found pinned under this man.
Garrick took his time exploring with lips and teeth. Rhian lay there in heaven. He murmured a protest when Garrick lifted himself away and knelt between his wide-spread thighs.
“Ready?” Garrick asked.
Shivers ran down Rhian’s spine.
He answered by drawing his knees up beneath him and lifting his ass into the air, his face smashed to the mattress. It was shameless, but then there was no shame to be found anywhere in Rhian. He was ready. He wanted this.
Garrick groaned and wrapped his big hands around the backs of Rhian’s thighs before sliding them up to his ass to pull the globes apart. Rhian could imagine the portrait he must make, and he smiled against the cool sheets beneath his hot cheek. His mind buzzed with a tranquil static that blocked out the rest of the world. There was only Garrick, him, this bed, and now.
The cool touch of Garrick’s finger plucked him from his quiet daze. He’d been so far into his own head, he hadn’t noticed Garrick reaching for the lube. He dragged his eyes open and saw the empty condom packet. His ass clenched.
Garrick’s quiet murmur soothed and his thick finger slipped into Rhian’s ass without resistance. It felt incredible. The muscle gave easily, the sensitive nerves lining his entrance quivering as he felt the rub of skin, the folds of Garrick’s knuckles. Rhian swore he could feel each hair on that finger as it pushed deep, not stopping until Garrick’s hand came to rest against the crease of his ass.
Yes. Good.
Even better was the slow, steady pump as Garrick worked his finger in and out. It was hypnotic. A second finger slid in and Rhian mumbled something that sounded a lot like, “perfect.”
On the next withdrawal, Garrick spread his fingers. Rhian moaned and arched his back as the thrill of the burn rippled over him.
He wanted more.
His wish was granted with another press. Another retreat. Rhian shifted his hips, rolling them back to meet the force of Garrick’s thrust, twitching them forward to maximize the stretch.
Garrick ran a wide palm up his spine, warming his skin, layering another sensation on top of all the others.
He hardly noticed the tip of the third finger slipping between the two scissoring him open. His muscles yielded, willingly. Then Garrick thrust deep and the stretch was huge.
Rhian’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp, the air locked in his lungs.
Garrick didn’t draw back, his fingers shoved as far as they could go, the ring of muscles clamped around them like a vise. His other hand continued to trail up and down Rhian’s back, the heel of his palm digging until the tension bled away.
Rhian’s shoulders sank into the mattress, his face buried in the sheets. Garrick bumped his hand forward, forcing that damn sound up out of Rhian’s chest, over and over.
Nothing had ever felt so good. So completely freeing.
When at last Garrick withdrew his hand, Rhian moaned at the loss. The brush of plastic and cool lube cut the sound off with a gasp.
Garrick’s belly bumped Rhian’s ass and the thick stalk of his erection jammed against the burning muscles of Rhian’s anus. He bent over and pressed a kiss between Rhian’s shoulder blades.
“Yes?” Garrick’s lips barely brushed his ear.
“Yes.”
“Grab onto the headboard.”
Rhian snapped his eyes open. Garrick’s weight lifted from his back and he reached for the wooden support while Garrick’s big hands wrapped around his hips.
Oh hell, yes.
Garrick stared down at the long, muscled back stretched out before him and swallowed hard. That so much power and strength was like putty in his hands was somehow miraculous and insanely hot.
Shifting his fingers for a better grip on Rhian’s hip, he lined up the head of his cock and eased forward.
Tight muscles resisted in spite of his preparation. A ripple of tension flowed over Rhian’s back and ass. Garrick didn’t retreat, keeping the pressure steady and strong. The head of his cock flattened against so much resistance until, with a gasp from Rhian, Garrick slipped inside.
“Oh God, Garrick. That’s fucking amazing.”
Yes. It. Is.
Garrick stared down at his cock locked in Rhian’s body and held still to let Rhian’s muscles adjust. Relax. Also, he needed a second to get his shit together.
Rhian either didn’t understand how close Garrick was to losing it, or he just didn’t care. He used his powerful arms, biceps bulging, to shove himself back. Hard.
Garrick met his strength, clutching th
Holy shit, it was too much. As soon as his belly came to rest against Rhian’s firm, round butt, he fell forward, wrapped his arms around the long arch of Rhian’s torso, and buried his face in soft blond curls.
“Rhian.”
Rhian nodded, as if he understood.
God, he doesn’t know the half of it yet.
Garrick rotated his hips and Rhian gasped, his head thrown back so their faces were side by side.
Garrick did it again.
And again.
His cock throbbed against Rhian’s tight walls, the ring of muscles clamping down around the base of Garrick’s shaft rippling in reaction to the shifting pressure.
Garrick was lost. Lost to the cry of his name from Rhian’s lips. To the firestorm growing in his balls. The electricity singing along his spine.
Rhian’s lips brushed his cheek and he met the awkward kiss fervently. The angle was rough, necks straining, legs shaking, and Rhian alone was supporting all their weight. It was messy and hot and not enough.
Their mouths slid apart. “This isn’t working,” Garrick muttered.
“What?” Rhian cried, his hips bucking back and forcing Garrick’s cock deeper. Rhian made that damn whimper.
Garrick huffed out a strangled laugh and hauled himself upright. With a long, slow glide, he pulled his cock from Rhian’s welcoming body.
“No,” Rhian groaned, looking back at Garrick in confusion.
Garrick didn’t bother to explain. He grabbed Rhian’s leg and heaved, flipping him onto his back. He stared up at Garrick wide-eyed as Garrick pulled up his thighs until he was bent in half, his knees pressed to his chest.
With a sharp jab, Garrick punched past Rhian’s fluttering sphincter and slammed home.
Rhian rocked his ass up to bring Garrick even deeper. “Garrick!”
The sound of his name bouncing off the wall, the look on Rhian’s face, stole the last of Garrick’s control. He’d planned to go slow. To ease Rhian into this. Instead, his hips snapped in demanding thrusts and worked his cock into the heat and clench of Rhian’s body. He fucked Rhian hard, with long, deep, shattering strokes, pulling back until only the head remained locked in Rhian’s ass, then plunging deep, until their bodies met with a dull thump.
Rhian undulated beneath him, muscles bunching and releasing, meeting his powerful drives with equal strength.
It was too good. There was so little time left.
Garrick captured Rhian’s mouth in a deep kiss. Rhian’s tongue tangled with his and he wrapped his powerful legs around Garrick’s ribs.
Garrick pulled him closer, chests pressed tight. He ran a hand over Rhian’s head and grasped the thick blond curls in his fist to control the depth and angle of the kiss.
Rhian groaned, the sound pure agony and desire. His rigid cock was trapped between their bellies, slipping across their sweat-slicked skin with every thrust.
At this angle and depth, Garrick could do no more than sharp, short thrusts, but it was good. Better than good. It was fucking amazing. He needed to see Rhian’s face. Hear his cries and see his mouth fall open when he nailed all the right spots.
He needed to hold him like this. To know it was his face Rhian saw when he came unglued.
He thrust harder, faster, shifting until Rhian was howling every time Garrick sawed over his prostate. Strong fingers scrabbled at his back.
“Oh fuck!” Rhian cried. “Oh fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!” Rhian threw back his head. “Garrick!”
The long arc of Rhian’s body lifting them both as he wailed Garrick’s name to the ceiling, spurts of hot, sticky come firing across their chests. The already unbearably tight ring of muscle around Garrick’s shaft clamped down harder, pulling him in deep.
Lightning stroked up Garrick’s spine. He pressed his open mouth to the pounding pulse in Rhian’s neck, muffling his hoarse cry as his climax exploded out of him. He shook from the force of it, each ripple tearing another sound from his chest, another twitch from his hips.
It went on forever, but it was still too soon when Garrick eased his trembling arms from their death grip around Rhian and pried his fingers from Rhian’s curls. Garrick’s hands shook as he brushed the tangle of hair from Rhian’s forehead.
Dark blue eyes stared up at him, stunned, while Garrick tried to think of what to say.
There were no words.
Chapter Twenty
Rhian swung around the net and watched the puck skim down the ice to Garrick. He told himself to keep his eye on the play, goddamn it, but it was impossible to ignore the way Garrick’s long legs pumped as he propelled himself across the ice.
When the puck almost sailed right past Rhian, he thanked god no one from the Bruins was watching and this was only practice. His head was seriously not in the game.
Another first to add to the list.
He’d spent the last three nights curled up in Garrick’s bed, in Garrick’s arms, where he wanted to be in spite of his certainty that he was only making it worse for himself. He’d thought seven days would be plenty of time to work Garrick out of his system, but Rhian could no longer kid himself. He was masochistically collecting as many memories as possible before he walked away and never looked back.
He didn’t have a choice, but it was also the right thing to do. Garrick had Savannah, not to mention a hockey team to run. Rhian had the Bruins, who had paid for his undivided attention. From there, who knew? It didn’t matter where, the point was what. Hockey. The NHL. Financial security and the achievement of all his dreams.
That the thought of that future left an empty ache in his chest was the clearest and most bitter evidence yet that he should never have chased Garrick back to his hotel room that night. Let alone done any of the things they’d done since.
So why don’t I regret a minute of it?
With a sigh, he threw himself back into practice. When they took a break to switch drills, Garrick skated up to him and Mike.
“You guys up for beers tonight?”
Rhian felt a pang of disappointment that Garrick wasn’t planning to go straight back to his house and ripping Rhian’s clothes off. He startled when Garrick clapped a gloved hand on his shoulder.
“Uh, sure,” Rhian said.
“We haven’t celebrated your big news,” Garrick said.
Rhian stared down at his skate and bit his lip hard, desperately trying not to laugh. They’d celebrated for the past three days, as he was achingly aware every time he sat down.
“Great idea,” Mike agreed as the rest of their circle of friends floated over.
“What’s up?” Alexei asked.
“Drinks tonight at Quigley’s to celebrate Rhian’s big move,” Garrick announced. “All of us, and if it’s all right with Rhian, I thought we could invite the new guy.”
Tim cocked his head. “What new guy?”
Rhian had no idea either. They hadn’t added anyone to the team in a while, and Justin’s replacement wouldn’t arrive until next week.
Garrick chuckled. “Rupert!”
Rhian swallowed back a laugh at the expressions, varying from stunned to dismayed, on the guys’ faces. Rupert had only been with the team for a week, but he’d already made something of an impression.
“Uh…okay,” Alexei said. “Maybe we don’t invite all team then, huh?”
Garrick smiled, not entirely disguising his relief, and Rhian felt guilty for almost having laughed.
Garrick needed Rupert to settle in, fast. The fact that Rupert was failing to keep his anxiety at bay, let alone hidden from the team, was a big issue. Worse still, Rupert—the manager of a professional hockey team—seemed most nervous when he was around the players. It was a total cluster fuck in the making.
Would Rupert chill out once he got to know some of the other guys? Rhian could guess that was Garrick’s hope.
“Yeah, let’s keep it to just us for now,” Rhian said.
Garrick’s smile faltered. Tomorrow night was going to be hell for him, if he even decided to go. He kept telling Rhian it might be better if he made some excuse, since eventually they would all learn he’d had something to do with the trade.
Rhian didn’t get why Garrick wouldn’t believe his friends would stand by him.
When everyone else skated away, Rhian held Garrick back and addressed the more immediate issue. “You sure about bringing Rupert out with Alexei? If Alexei gets it in his head to pull one of his pranks, I’m not sure Rupert won’t end up with PTSD.”
Garrick grimaced. “God help me.”
Rhian laughed. “I’m kidding. It’ll be fine. Put Rupert next to me. We know each other’s secrets. Maybe that will make him feel better.”
“As long as I get to sit on the other side of you,” Garrick murmured, dark promise in his voice.
Rhian’s mouth fell open. He quickly looked around to be sure no one else could hear them. They were standing in the middle of the ice, for Christ’s sake, and Garrick knew perfectly well how sound traveled out here.
He was about to shoot Garrick the mother of all completely silent dirty looks when he caught sight of a lone man sitting in the stands.
“Shit.”
Garrick started to turn. “What?”
Rhian grabbed his sleeve. “Don’t.”
Garrick took a deep breath and dropped his shoulders. “Did someone hear me?” he whispered.
“What?” Rhian had already forgotten about Garrick’s momentary indiscretion a moment before. “No, not that. Steve is sitting over there. Tenth row, over the bench.” Easy shouting distance to all our teammates and the coaching staff.
Garrick, who had played in this arena for twelve years, didn’t bother to look. “Shit.”
Rhian forced a bright smile. “That’s what I’m saying.”
“Should we ask him to leave?”
Rhian shook his head. “I think we should ignore him.”
That was what Rhian had been doing for the better part of a week. The time and date for the blackmail drop off had long since come and gone, and he’d continued going about his business as if he’d never seen the note. Maybe Steve thought the wind had ripped it off his windshield?
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