Fair Play (Hat Trick, Book 1) (10 page)

He looked into the mirror. They made the picture he’d hoped.
Her hair was tousled, her skirt around her waist, stocking-clad thighs and high
breasts in lace. With him wrapped around her. Naked.

He adored her. Not only in thought, but in action. He
worshipped her with his lips, his hands.

He fought a smile when her wary look bled away. Her skin
glowed, her chest blushed pink, high color staining her cheeks. She caught his
eye.

Her little smile was the sexiest part of all.

His index finger dipped into her navel, and her ass bumped
back into his groin. He sucked in air through his nose and wrapped an iron fist
around his control. Her smile faltered and faded altogether when he traced his
fingers through her soft curls. The little sound in the back of her throat was
music. The roll of her hips back against his, the rub of her skin against his
cock—heaven and hell all wrapped up as one.

He slid his hands south, through the soft down and slipping between
her legs. She opened for him, sliding her legs apart, eager and honest once
more.

He wanted access almost more than he wanted his next breath,
but his height was going to be a problem. With the breathtaking lack of
inhibition he prized, hungered for,  Savannah lifted one knee and propped it
onto the surface of the dresser. Now when she spread her legs wider, she
remained at the perfect height.

God,
Garrick thought as his knees wobbled,
who is
seducing and who is seduced?
It didn’t matter. Not anymore.

His finger slid into thick hot cream. She was drenched, her
arousal coating her labia, slicking her thighs, the scent wrapping around them
as he stroked the pad of his finger over her clit.

He delighted in how she watched his hand, her body, with
abject fascination. Her moan was long. And muffled.

He flicked his finger back and forth over her clit, driving
her up, loving the grind and roll of her ass against his cock.

She whimpered. And again. Never releasing what had to be the
painful bite of her lips.

“Let it go,” he begged. “Don’t hold back.”

She gasped when she finally opened her mouth. “I can’t!”

His finger worked her harder, mercilessly battering her clit.
Determined. He used his other hand to spread her open, letting them both see
the bright reds and pinks hidden within her folds.

She bit her lip again, the desperate sounds coming from the
back of her throat almost painful.

“Say it. Scream it if you have to.”

She clamped her mouth shut.

He slid his middle finger into her pussy, sinking in to the
hilt.

“Oh god,” she groaned.

“Yes, tell me.”

She shook her head. He thrust his finger, his other hand
still working her clit. She ground against him, forcing herself down on his finger,
and he added a second.

She groaned again. Louder.

“Yes, that’s it.”

Savannah shook her head again, her hair shimmering around
her face, her mouth open, her breathing hectic as he took her higher.

Her next groan was louder still. Truer.

She stared at him wide-eyed. “No.”

“Why can’t you? Why can’t you scream it until the rafters
shake?”

Savannah looked like she was desperate to do exactly that. “Because
Rick is in the next room!”

Garrick faltered.
Oh shit.

Savannah started to laugh, her entire body shaking. He
dropped his forehead to her shoulder. How had his plan had gone so terribly
wrong?

Now they were both laughing.

He met her sparkling green eyes in the mirror and his heart
did something funny in his chest.

“You are beautiful.”

Her smile didn’t falter. “You are too.”

His brows went up and he glanced at his reflection. He was
the same as always, though maybe a little better. He looked really good wearing
nothing but Savannah.

Clever woman had backed him right into a corner. How could
he refute her claim and expect her to believe his?

He smiled at her again, hoping this wasn’t the only time
they’d play this game. He could win it eventually. “Thank you,” he said
graciously, albeit gruffly.

He resumed a slow stroke across her clit. She sucked in a
deep breath through her nose. He shifted his fingers, still lodged inside her
body, and rubbed the sensitive front wall of her channel, hoping to find the
right spot.

The flood of arousal and jerk of her hips told him when he
had.

“You’re welcome,” she gasped.

He moved his hand faster.

“God, Garrick. Keep doing that.” Her hips kicked in little
circles, her leg shaking against his thigh.

He worked her clit harder.

She bit her lip hard enough that he feared she’d draw blood.
He didn’t let up, and was rewarded when with a shudder and choked-off cry,
Savannah came. The tight muscles of her pussy pulsed around his fingers. His
cock ached with the need to thrust inside the rippling heat, but he didn’t slow,
his fingers relentless until she slumped, her head hanging between her
outstretched arms.

He buried his face against her neck, desperately trying to walk
himself back from the ledge.

“I don’t know how you’re going to do it,” he said, his voice
rough after what felt like hours of need riding him hard.

“What? Do what?”

“Keep quiet while we do this.” He eased back and pulled his
fingers from her pussy.

She gave a long, low groan. “Do what? I think I managed that
pretty well.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his lips to her shoulder. Hands
shaking, he guided the head of his cock through the slick folds of her pussy. “But
how about now?”

He thrust up, his swollen, exquisitely sensitive crown stretching
into her body.

“Oh God. Oh God, Garrick.”

He surged farther, slipped deeper, his eyes bulging at the
heat clenching around his cock. God, how he’d wanted this.
Her
. But it
was more than he’d imagined.

She suited him perfectly.

Physically, though, the fit was a little tight.

Short, sharp thrusts took him farther. He fought for every
inch. His ears rang with the roar of his own blood and the almost constant
noises from Savannah. She thanked him, cajoled him, her words and jumbled
phases whispered hoarsely and punctuated by whimpers and moans.

Wide green eyes captured his in the mirror. His arm slid up,
across her chest, to curl a hand over her shoulder. His other hand returned to
its work tormenting her clit.

He drove himself forward, sinking into her to the hilt.

 In return for her absolute honesty, he could give nothing
less. The moment was shockingly intimate. Their gazes locked together.

He slowly withdrew from her welcoming depths and stopped
when only the head of his cock remained clasped within her. Then he slammed all
the way back in.
Heaven.

He did it again. At some point her eyes fluttered shut, or
maybe his did. She tilted her hips, urging him deeper as she ground back
against him.

“Harder.
Please
.”

Sweat broke out over his entire body. Not a problem. Harder
and faster were about the only speeds he had left. Within seconds, he was
powering in and out of Savannah’s body, and she was slamming her hips back to
meet his.

Above the litany of muffled sounds from Savannah was the
hard slap of bodies, the rasping of panting breaths. Garrick’s heart raced.  His
balls drew up tight and hard to his body. He was close. Too close.

He pinched her clit between his fingers and plucked it hard.
Again and again. He fought to keep up with the twitch of her hips, rocking together
in a rhythm designed to blow off the top of his head.

But not without her.

Her eyes fluttered and when they opened, they were no longer
looking at him, but lower. He followed her gaze to his hand dipped between her
spread legs, the hint of movement behind.

Holding her against his chest, he stood straighter. Not
enough to unbalance them but enough so that when he lifted his hand away from
her clit, they could both see his cock driving in and out of her pussy.

“Oh my god,” Savannah gasped. Her hips jerked, once, twice,
then all those glorious muscles clamped down on his cock like she wanted to
pull him up into her tight wet heat and keep him there forever.

It was right where he wanted to be.

With Savannah’s moan ringing in his ears, he slammed himself
as deep as he could go and let the fire brewing in his balls consume him. His
climax roared over his body, arching his spine, and tore a strangled howl from
his lungs. His hips pumped uncontrollably against Savannah’s firm ass, bumping
in tight circles until every ounce of his release had been yanked out of his
body by hers.

Savannah stared at the complete stranger in the mirror.

Not Garrick. Indeed, he was becoming all too familiar a face
in her life. But the woman with wild hair, glassy eyes, flushed face, and the
strangest little smile on her face. Savannah had never seen her before.

She tore her gaze away from the confusing sight when Garrick
gently eased out of her body. She couldn’t contain the whimper of loss. God,
how she loved the ache of really good sex. Mind-blowing sex. His lips twitched
as he stumbled back, his legs as weak as hers, apparently. Another moan escaped
as she slid her leg off the dresser.

Not that it would be something she could indulge in again, but
tonight had been…she was having a hard time coming up with anything other than
amazing
.
She was also having a hard time reconciling the ache in her chest at the
thought of him leaving.

She shouldn’t ever do anything this stupid again. But since
she’d done it, she couldn’t treat it like some fuck-and-go one night stand.

When he returned from cleaning up in the bathroom, stark
naked and a damn vision to behold, she took a long look.

Six and a half feet of hard muscle, thick cock, curly brown
hair going in every direction on his head, eyes that had turned from amber to
chocolate in the mirror.

He stopped and smiled. She laughed.

He can be smug. He’s got a right. And I’m still looking.

If he was the least bit disconcerted by her inspection, it
didn’t show. He did, though, shift his weight to the left. His tell.

“How’s your hip?”

He scowled. “Fine.”

She stared at it with narrowed eyes before studying his
face. “Oh, yeah?”

He sighed. “No, it’s sore. And not from sex. I will never be
too old and broken for sex, goddamn it.”

She chuckled and held out her hand. “Of course you won’t. I’m
assuming it’s from your practice and conditioning today. No hot tub. Not enough
ice?”

He laced their fingers together and shrugged. “Probably.”

“Definitely,” she said, towing him over to the bed. “Lie
face down.”

He looked at her for a moment before complying. She could imagine
his thought process departing from
argue with the meddlesome trainer
and
arriving at
mostly naked woman asking me to her bed, say yes!

While he folded down the sheets and got comfortable, she got
completely naked. It wasn’t like the proverbial cat—or was that pussy?—wasn’t
out of the bag.

She grabbed lotion from her kit and climbed onto the bed and
right over Garrick. He lay still, his cheek on his folded arms, and watched her
over his shoulder. He didn’t ask what she was going to do, just let her perch
naked on his gorgeous bare ass. She warmed some lotion in her palm then began
working it into his back.

By the time she got through his back, glutes, and thighs, he
had his eyes screwed shut. The work on his hip had likely hurt, a lot, but he’d
kept quiet after promising her he’d tell her if she hurt him “too much”. In
hockey, that generally meant dismemberment and nothing less, so she wasn’t
surprised he’d remained silent.

She returned to his upper back and shoulders and
methodically worked the lotion into his firm skin, soothing her palms over the
broad expanse of his warm muscles. The smooth motions quieted her own jangled
nerves and, for a time, she didn’t worry about what she’d done that night.

Garrick clearly wasn’t worried about it either. His slow,
deep breathing was the first hint, but it wasn’t until he made a soft snoring
sound that she was certain he’d fallen fast asleep.

She sat there, her naked ass once more perched on his, and
stared at his handsome profile.

It had been a mistake, but she didn’t regret it. She
couldn’t repeat it, but she could live with it.

She only hoped he could live with going back to being her
friend.
Just
her friend.

Though even she had to admit it was a singularly
unsatisfying thought.

Savannah woke to a pitch dark room and couldn’t remember
where she was.

Cape Breton Island. Sydney Harbor.

Garrick
.

He was curled around her back, his face buried against her
neck, his arm under her head put to use as her pillow. His other arm curled
around her ribs, his big hand splayed across her belly. He was warm. Close. She
had the insane urge to cuddle deeper under the covers and purr.

She should have tossed him out of her room hours ago. Hell,
she shouldn’t have let him in to begin with. Crawling into bed and pulling the
covers over them had only been one more questionable decision in an evening
loaded with them, and she didn’t give a shit. She was enjoying it for the
approximately six hours it was going to last.

She snuggled into the wall of heat at her back and settled her
ass more firmly in the cup of Garrick’s lap. His soft cock brushed her butt cheek,
and his coarse leg hair tickled the backs of her thighs.

Six whole hours to feel like a normal woman, with a
remarkably normal man, sharing a bed.

The only question was, why were they wasting their six hours
sleeping?

Easing away from Garrick, she lifted her head off his arm
and carefully rolled over. He reached for her, tried to hold on, but she urged his
arm back to his side.

His breaths were steady as she slid under the covers and ran
her hand along his ribs, his hip, gently nudging him to roll over. He was less
than halfway there when she reached her goal. Without further ado, she sucked
his limp cock into her mouth.

His breathing definitely changed then.

“Oh my god, Savannah.”

She smiled when he flopped onto his back. She worked her
mouth over his cock, running her tongue over and under, around and around as it
grew.

She nuzzled the soft skin, pulled it with her lips, and let the
edge of her teeth gently tug up under the crown. She loved giving head like
this. From scratch, as she liked to think of it. To feel every physical
manifestation of a man’s desire against her sensitive tongue and lips. To
witness his control slip and eventually leave him all together. It was
powerful. She wanted to give Garrick this gift, even as she took her own pleasure
from it.

Clearly, he was appreciating her gift quite a bit. His
erection pressed against the roof of her mouth. At six foot five inches and two
hundred and twenty pounds without an ounce of fat on him, proportional was a
very happy thing. Her jaw would ache tomorrow and she looked forward to it.

She planted her hands on his thighs to still his thrashing
legs. His hips twitched, practically vibrating in her hold. She didn’t stop her
careful ministrations when he tossed the covers off her and over the end of the
bed.

She looked up at him, his thick shaft stretching her lips.

His stare in return was satisfyingly wild-eyed.

“I had to look. To see…” His words drifted off.

She sucked harder and bobbed her head in a steady rhythm. Blood
surged into his shaft, widening her jaw, straining her lips, and she hummed
around him.

“Fuck!” He threw his head back onto the pillow, his hands
fisting in the sheet.

She drew off him and smiled as she licked her way down his
shaft and carefully massaged his sac with her tongue. She kept it gentle,
waiting to see his reaction.

He drew up one leg to give her better access.

She accepted the gift of his trust and coaxed his entire
ball sac into her mouth. Her lips gently tugged and her tongue rolled his
testicles against the roof of her mouth.

Garrick lifted his other leg and spread himself wide.

Unfettered access. What more could a girl want?

Releasing his balls, she returned to the base of his cock
and worked her way up until she could tease the divot under the head with the
tip of her tongue. He’d lasted longer than most men would without forcing her
to wrap a hand around him to guide him as she wished, but now his hips bucked
without control and she curled her fingers around his thick shaft.

God, it had felt good as he’d slowly worked his way into her
body. He was big enough, and she’d been celibate long enough, that he’d had to
fight for every inch. The stretch had been amazing. But not as incredible as when
he’d fucked her properly, how they’d crashed into one another, his hot voice in
her ear telling her she was beautiful.

And she’d felt beautiful. Like she could have done
anything—screamed, yelled, beat her fist against the wall—and he would have
been delighted with it.

Rick, her boss, his coach, and the man just one thin hotel wall
away, might not have been as happy. So they’d kept the noise as contained as
they could manage, but the rest had been no holds barred.

She’d done it wholeheartedly, she thought as she swirled her
tongue around the head of his penis, enjoying his mumbled praise.

Grace would be so proud. Too bad she was never going to tell
her friend a damn thing about it. There would be no end to the haranguing about
being with Garrick more than once.

Not possible.

She closed her eyes against a wish she wasn’t going to bother
making and plunged down on Garrick, taking as much of him as she could into her
mouth before retreating with a tremendous upward suck.

He roared his approval so she did it again and again,
stopping on the retreat to tease the flange, or tickle the tip of her tongue
into the little hole. He definitely preferred when she focused on the divot,
but she kept trading them off.

She wanted this to last. She wanted him to stagger out of
her room on weak knees and with his eyes still mostly rolled back in his head. She
couldn’t offer him anything more than this one night but, goddamn, she wanted
it to be memorable.

Her hand followed her lips up and down his shaft, twisting
and untwisting. His knuckles were white where they gripped the sheet. His
breath rasped in and out of his lungs in gusts. She stroked the fingers of her
free hand over his sac, finding it high and tight. When the cadence of his
moan, the tenor of his voice when he said her name again was just a little
higher, she gave his balls a firm tug.

His moan was choked off and his eyes snapped open.

“I’m not done with you yet,” she said, surprised by the
husky timbre of her voice. She’d always thought vixens had to practice to
achieve that. Turned out, it was all about the motivation.

His eyes drooped, heavy as he stared at her face hovering above
his glistening cock. A bead of pre-come pearled on the tip as her hand
continued its relentless rhythm.

She leaned in and licked the little drop away. His narrow
stare, the parted lips were all as she had expected. The quirked lip on one
side, the tiny smile, was pure Garrick.

Another pearl of pre-come appeared immediately.

Her tongue darted out for that one too.

Her hand pumped steadily while she licked spots here and
there around it. The divot got another tickle. She traced a vein from root to crown
with the tip of her tongue, then danced the broad flat around the soft velvety
head. The tang of his pre-come grew stronger, more frequent, as it continued to
leak.

He showed admirable restraint. The quiver in his thighs was the
only betrayal of the amount of control he was exerting over his body.

Which didn’t seem right at all.

She took him fast and held him deep, using her hand to cover
the rest. She wished she could take him deeper, deep throat him, but her gag
reflex would never let her even close.

She decided to try something different.

Setting up a steady rhythm of plunge and retreat, lick and
suck, she started him on the climb to his release. She didn’t have long, she
could tell. She slipped one finger into her mouth alongside his cock for one
round trip, then ran her fingers over his sac again. She didn’t tease, tug, or
even test their weight—though it was tempting—but kept going, dropping her hand
lower to press her wet finger against the seam beneath.

“Yes. Savannah, yes!”

He didn’t have to ask twice. She rubbed the tight skin of
his perineum, massaging gently.

His arms flew over his head to clutch the headboard as he
writhed against her finger and thrust up into her hand and mouth.

One, two, three frantic jerks and he hit the peak, his body
shaking with the force of his climax. His cock pulsed long jets of come into
her waiting mouth. She took it all as he quaked beneath her, his face smashed
to his arm, his mouth open, gasping for air between long moans.

She rejoiced in every long, drawn-out stroke until he
collapsed back against the bed, then she sat and watched him try to pull his
shit back together. She glanced over at the clock.

4:25 AM.

Still time for a little more sleep. Would it be totally
shameless if she asked him to spoon himself around her again?

She smiled as she dragged the bedding up off the floor and
over them, nudging his shoulder until he scooted back down in the bed where he
belonged. With a sigh, she wriggled backwards until her ass was planted in his
lap, and then wrapped his arms around her.

Who cares about shameless?

Garrick preferred her that way, anyhow.