Quick Trick (A Rough Riders Hockey Novel Book 1) (12 page)

Her whine was wasted on him. His mouth bit paths along her neck while his vibrating fingers stimulated a whole new and intense response. And he dragged her hand, still beneath his own, into her pants and placed her fingers over her clit.

“Touch,” he said.

“Grant—”

“
Touch
.” His order was final, and he maneuvered her fingers to the very top of her clit, where his fingers joined hers in searching for that place—

He found it first, and his touch pushed more pleasure into Faith’s sex from a whole different direction. She was bombarded with sensations so wildly thrilling, she wanted to drown in them. Swim in them. She whimpered but let Grant place his fingers with hers. Let him guide her movement.

He lowered his chin, putting his lips at her ear. “Do you have
any
idea how
fucking hot
it makes me to
watch you
touch yourself?”

A whole different kind of pleasure filled Faith. She pried her eyes open and found his handsome face in the darkening shadows, creased with desire and intensity.

“Now you can find pleasure and satisfaction any time you want it, Faith. No more denying yourself.”

Emotion rolled through her, intense and sharp. Emotion she didn’t understand. She released the ladder and curved her arm back and around Grant’s head, pulling his mouth to hers. And gifted him with an erotic example of what she hoped he’d do to her when they had more privacy.

He drank her in, added passion to the kiss, and devoured her while his fingers parted, pushed Faith’s out of the way and shocked her clit with an orgasm that burned right to her core. Grant added pressure to her mouth to keep her from pulling away and muffled her cries as he drove orgasm after sweet orgasm through her body until she dropped back against him, limp.

Grant still had his hand down her pants when headlights turned the corner and started down the street.

“You, Miss Nicholas, have been saved by the cavalry.” He dragged his hand back and jerked her jacket into place a moment before Dwayne turned into his drive. And pushed the vibrating fingertips into his jacket pocket. “Because I was just about ready to do you in the front yard. Damn, you make me do the craziest thing, woman.”

Grant was teasing, but in her exhausted state, it struck her as extremely funny. She was holding herself up with the ladder, still laughing, when Dwayne climbed from his car, grinning.

“What are you two up to?” he wanted to know.

“Faith just lost at rock paper scissors,” Grant told him, taking Faith by the arm and sitting her on the front steps. “Now she’s got to sit on her ass while I finish the gables.”

“Hey…” she complained, then started laughing again. “That’s only because you wouldn’t let me go for three out of five.” And she added a sweet “The offer’s still open.”

That made Grant bust up laughing. “I promise to take you up on that another time. But not right this minute.” He grabbed the ladder and walked it to the next gable, telling Dwayne, “We’ll be ready for a show in ten minutes. Get your popcorn ready.”

* * *

“
O
kay
, here we go, boys,” Grant called once the kids were in position for their last drill of the night. “Remember, you’re passing while you’re moving, so make sure to whip that puck hard to get it in front of your teammate. Then pivot, catch the shot from the next man down the line, and shoot it up the ice.”

He blew his whistle, and the kids glided into action. Grant floated on the edge of the rink and rolled his shoulder while his gaze focused on the kids’ feet and hands, on pivots and shots.

Dwayne paced the sidelines. “Stay low in your turns, boys. Keep movin’, keep movin’, shoot.”

“Talk it up, guys,” Grant told them. “You should always be talkin’ to each other out there. If you want something, call for it. Pick up the pace, boys. Giddyup, let’s go.”

“Giddyup?” Dwayne said, shooting him an incredulous grin. “Is that the shit they teach you in the big leagues?”

“Shut up.” Grant grinned. “Parker,
move
those feet. Whoa, Healy, what the hell was that? You control the puck, the puck doesn’t control you.”

That brought some laughter. “Good,” he called out encouragement. “Nice.” And as the last few members of the team passed up the ice, Grant clapped to get the team’s attention. “Other way, same drill. Speed, accuracy, focus.
Go
.”

His phone chimed. Without looking away from the boys, he answered, but instead of saying hello, he lowered the mouthpiece and yelled, “Jordy, you here to socialize or practice? Cut the bullshit. If I have to tell you again, the whole team’s gonna be doing sprints.”

A collective groan rolled through the group, and Jordy received a number of shoulder shoves, which shut him right up.

Smiling, Grant lifted the phone to his mouth. “Grant.”

“Hey.” A male voice that he didn’t immediately recognize sounded over the line. “Sounds like you’re as much of a hard-ass with teenagers as you are with grown men.”

By the time he finished speaking, Grant recognized his younger brother’s voice. “Do you mean on the ice or with you? ’Cause I haven’t seen you enough to be a hard-ass yet.”

“I know,” Patrick said, “that’s why I’m here to take you for a beer when you’re done.”

Grant heard stereo and turned to find his Patrick strolling toward the rink, one hand in his pocket, huddled in a parka. Patrick grinned and lowered his phone. Grant had mixed feelings about his brother’s appearance. On the one hand, he was the reason their parents had even entertained the idea of seeing one of Grant’s games. On the other, Grant really wanted to go straight back to the store, pack in some quality Faith time—preferably buried deep inside her, driving her to scream his name the way she had last night, then teaching her how to edit video and set up her YouTube account. And, yeah, then work on more screaming.

Damn, his cock was already half-hard just thinking about it.

“Patrick?” Dwayne turned and held his hand out to Grant’s brother, but he didn’t look all that happy to see him. Still, Patrick stepped up and shook Dwayne’s hand. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah.” He released Dwayne’s hand and scraped it through his hair, looking at the ground. “Well, I’m sure no one missed me.” He looked up and met Dwayne’s eyes. “But I’m clean and sober, eight months now.”

Shock hit Grant in the stomach. He’d known Patrick had a problem, but not that it had been acknowledged or that he’d sought help or that he’d been successful at battling the addiction.

“Congratulations, kid.”

Patrick grinned. “Thanks, thanks.”

“Grant, you go on,” Dwayne said. “I’ve got this. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Grant nodded. “Thanks.”

He sat down, threw on his blade guards and started unlacing his skates.

“Thank you,” Dwayne said. “And tell Faith thank you again too. I’ve been getting all sorts of calls and texts about the lights. You made a lot of people happy tonight.”

Dwayne skated toward the kids calling directions while Grant pushed into tennis shoes.

“What lights?” Patrick asked.

“The ones on his house. The system’s been down since MaryAnn passed, and we helped him get it up and running again.”

He set his skates in his duffel, tossed it over his shoulder, and started toward the parking lot with Patrick, but his mind was on how happy Faith would be to hear how the lights were affecting the community.

His brother wrapped a playful arm around Grant’s neck and wrestled him, singing, “Someone’s got a crush…”

Grant laughed and pushed Patrick off. “You’re still not big enough to do that.”

Patrick straightened, making a face at how he topped Grant’s height by two inches.

“
Old enough
,” Grant corrected. “You’ll always be my
baby
brother.”

“Who’s Faith?”

“Let’s talk about you. Why did you invite me for a beer if you’re sober?”

“Because it’s the socially polite thing to do. And because it’s good practice. And because I always feel a little stronger when I walk out of a bar still able to count backward from one hundred. Who’s Faith?”

Grant ignored his last Faith inquiry and focused on the glimmer of the good-natured kid his brother had once been. That made Grant smile.

They agreed to take separate cars and meet at Yuletide Spirits. Grant planned on walking from there to Faith’s and staying with her tonight, and he didn’t want anything interfering with that plan.

As he pulled out of the parking lot, he dialed Faith.

“Hey, handsome,” she answered. “Hope you didn’t send any of the kids home with marks.”

“Not a one.”

“Good boy.”

And here came their first test. “So…my brother found me at the rink. We’re going to grab a beer.”

“Really?” She sounded surprised, but in a good way. Grant held his hopes back, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Which one?”

“Patrick.”

“That’s great.”

He was still waiting. “Why is that great? You don’t like my brothers.”

“I don’t like how your brothers
act
. I don’t know your brothers as people, so I couldn’t tell you whether I like them or not. And it’s great because I have no doubt you’ll be a positive influence for him. Have fun.”

He frowned, a little unsure what to do without conflict to deal with. “What are you doing?”

“Well,” she said, sounding far too chipper for a woman who’d been up all night, worked all day, and been dealt two ginormous orgasms a couple of hours ago. “I finished making notes on the instructions I want to record over the video, and I just started putting supplies together for the festival. My back room looks like Parties Unlimited USA.”

He smiled. “I’ll help when I get there.”

“I’ve got it. You don’t get to see your family much, and you don’t have much time left in town. Enjoy yourself.” A familiar bell rang in the background. “I’ve got to run to the front. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Yeah. Sure. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Grant stopped at a red light behind his brother’s Mercedes SUV and frowned at his phone where it rested on his thigh. “Have fun?”

Where was the self-invitation to join them? The pissy attitude over him going out without her? The pouting?

“Enjoy myself?”

The light turned green, and he continued toward town. Halfway there, he caught himself trying to twist her words into something negative. And laughed at himself, relieved he was making it up. “God, I’m an idiot.”

But that relief didn’t last long, because then he was thinking about her
“You don’t have much time left in town.”

He really didn’t. The team was off for the holidays now, but they’d head back to practice in less than a week. Then they’d dive into a grueling schedule of games, practices, and special events, packed into nearly every day straight through the middle of June.

And Grant would be with them.

He couldn’t wait. Couldn’t wait to be with his guys. Back on a schedule. Battling for every play on the ice.

But it also meant he had to leave Faith. His first thought was to ask her if she’d continue seeing him, but Grant didn’t have to look at a schedule to know there would only be one short break over the next six months when he’d be able to fly here and see her. Nor did he have to fathom a guess of how often she’d be free to come see him. Not with a struggling store, limited funds, and that damn iron pride of hers. He had no doubt they’d end up in a fight if he even brought up the subject of paying for her travel. Beyond that, she hadn’t shown any serious interest in hockey. She listened to him talk about his career and his buddies, but when he started talking strategy, her eyes glazed over.

Not that it mattered… Did it?

“Why in the hell am I even thinking these things?” he asked the empty car.

After a moment, his mind answered: because he knew that by June, when he could come spend the summer with her, she’d be gone. If not physically gone because she’d sold the store, she’d be taken by some young stud who knew a good thing when he saw it.

Grant’s mood plummeted. The discomfort only added to his stress. He shouldn’t be this affected by a woman he’d known for a week and a half. That was insane.

He pulled into a spot in front of Faith’s store, while his brother pulled in a block away at the bar. Grant cut the engine and the lights and stared inside at the light glowing in the back. He wanted to bail on Patrick and go help Faith. He wanted to
be
with Faith.

He hadn’t realized how long he’d been sitting there until Patrick strolled up to his door.

“Dude.” His voice sounded muffled through the glass. “Are you drunk already? The bar is over there. This is—” A look came over Patrick’s face. He darted a glance at the hardware store, then looked back at Grant. “Ooooh, wait.” He pointed to the store. “Is
this
the Faith you’re crushing on?”

“
Shut up
.” Grant climbed from the car, annoyed. “Just tell the whole town.”

Patrick chuckled and turned in a slow circle. “Bro, look around you.”

True, there wasn’t a damn soul on the frozen street. And, yes, that just irritated Grant more.