Quick Trick (A Rough Riders Hockey Novel Book 1) (7 page)

“Just your favorites.”

She shook her head. “Jemma wouldn’t tell you my favorites.”

“The way she wouldn’t tell me about her reserve collection?”

She smirked.

Man, he was having way too much fun. He opened the bag and peered in at the chocolates. The rich, intoxicating scent hit him, and he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. “Mmmm. Damn, that’s better than a drug.”

“Tease,” she muttered.

He opened his eyes. “I do have Tease in here. Not too sweet, not too rich, but just right to leave you wanting more.”

She sighed as if she were barely tolerating him.

“I also have Long, Slow, Deep, Wet Kiss.” He let his gaze fall to her mouth and licked his bottom lip. “Mmm. This chocolate couldn’t compare to the real thing with you.”

She took a deep breath, ready to blow him off. “Grant—”

“Let’s see.” He returned his gaze to the bag. “I suppose it would be appropriate to move on to Nip, Tug, Suckle. Mmm-hmm. And oh, wow, then we dive into the really good stuff.”

Lifting his gaze from the bag, he met her eyes directly, deliberately, and was a little surprised to find her lids heavy, her eyes lusty. He’d begun to believe she was truly unaffected by him.

“This is a little quick for my taste,” he murmured. “I’d rather build slower, savor longer, explore in depth, but I also aim to please, so let’s skip to your next favorite—First Penetration.” He closed his eyes as the idea slid through him in a heat wave. “Mmmm.
Damn
. Always so good.”

She heaved a sigh. “All right, Saber. You’ve had your fun for the day. I really have to—”

“Long and Slow, one of my favorites, right along with Deep and Hard. Both have so much pleasure potential, don’t you think? All leading to the Peak, the Break, and…Ecstasy.”

He was pretty sure he’d done nothing but turn himself on and reached into the bag with the intention of torturing her by eating the chocolate himself. He held out one little dark square decorated with a single yellow flower petal. “But wait, what’s this?”

“Bareback,” she said, her gaze hot, almost challenging, on his. “The ultimate sweet ride.”

A lightning strike of lust cut him straight down the middle. “Ah. Right.”

He pulled another. This square a little lighter and topped with a purple pansy. “And this?”

“Fling.” Her lips curved a little. “Leave your chocolate-commitment fears behind. This bold baby is here to satisfy when you’re interested.”

He laughed softly and held the chocolate higher, like a gem to the light. “I should have known you’d have these memorized.” Lowering the square, he dropped it into the bag and shook his head. “Oooo, so much possibility. Too bad it will all be wasted.”

She was grinning, the look a little smug. “Wasting Jemma’s special reserve will earn you a fate worse than death.” She pushed off the shelf and, with one quick swipe, grabbed the bag from his hand. “I’d hate to see something like that happen to a guy as thoughtful as you.” She turned toward the back of the store. “Thanks, handsome. Have a great day.”

Grant opened his mouth to argue and took a step after her.

“Faith!” They both turned toward the voice. “Faith, Faith, look.” The kid they’d been messing with jogged up to her, carrying a handful of large sheets of paper. His wide eyes darted between Grant and Faith. “George just dropped these posters off, and
look
.”

By the way the kid was pointing at something on the page while giving Grant those starstruck eyes, Grant was sure those were the posters announcing his participation with the festival and the hockey team.

He grinned, his ego inflated. The anticipation of Faith finding out he was a sports star filled him with a ridiculous level of excitement and satisfaction.

“What?” she asked, looking over the poster before telling the kid, “Just put them up in the window where we always put the local promotions.”

“No,” the kid said, then pointed to Grant. “It’s him. He’s…
look
.”

Faith laughed, the sound light and bubbly and truly humor filled. “God, you are adorable,” she told the kid. Then to Grant, she said, “Give him an autograph before you leave, will you?”

She turned and continued toward the back room. Confusion shocked Grant’s brain still for a long second. He looked at the kid, said, “I’ll catch you on my way out,” then caught up with Faith and slipped his hand around her elbow. “You wait just a damn minute.”

She had a chocolate in her hand and took a bite. Her eyes closed in a look of bliss, and the hum of pleasure that rolled from her throat seemed to funnel blood straight to his groin.

“You know who I am?”

When she opened her eyes, a hint of humor edged the heat there. “Grant Saber, son of Hazel and Martin Saber. Center for the DC Rough Riders. Benched for a shoulder injury but headed back to the ice any day now. Bachelor extraordinaire. And an amazing judge of chocolate. I’ve really got a lot to do.”

When she tried to turn, he pulled her to face him again. “How long? How long have you known?”

“Since the day you offered to help me with Dwayne’s lights.” She lifted the bag and gave him a sweet grin. “Thanks again.”

He didn’t let go. “Then why are you still resisting me?”

She turned to fully face him, serious now. “That spotlight has fried your humility. Out here, in the real world, not all women fall on their backs just because you’re good-looking, built, and rich.”

He immediately thought of Dillon and how quickly he’d replaced Faith after so many years together. Guilt snuck in. And, yeah, maybe a little shame too. Because he
was
expecting his status as a star NHL player to impress her out of her pants. It had always worked in the past.

To lighten the conversation, he added, “You forgot famous, charming, and funny.”

“The famous part goes against you in my opinion. As far as charming and funny goes, those traits seem highly variable, depending on whether you’re getting what you want or not.”

“You don’t know me well enough to say that.”

“Grant, you’ve been in my store three or four times a day for a week. That’s more than I see most of my customers in three months, and I know their life stories.”

He frowned, thinking back over the week. Wondering what he’d said or done to make her think she’d figured him out. Hell, he hadn’t even figured himself out.

“I’m sorry I’m not speechless over your star status. I just happen to believe that all the great stuff in here”—she tapped his chest with an index finger—“is what really matters. And you’ve got enough stuff in here to make your hockey stats and your bank balance and your shiny new Range Rover pale by comparison.”

The woman turned him inside out on a dime. To push aside the uneasy feelings in the pit of his stomach, he said, “Whoa. Let’s leave my Rover out of this.”

She laughed and gave him an exasperated shake of her head. “Go on. Leave me alone so I can get some work done. We don’t all get R&R for a shoulder injury.”

She tried to turn away.

He should let her. He knew he should. But he held on and pulled her to face him again. When he opened his mouth to say…he didn’t even know what, a customer wandered out of one aisle and into another.

Grant walked Faith backward the last few feet into the storage room and kicked the door closed.

“Grant…” she said, in that I-don’t-have-time-for-this sort of way.

But he turned and pushed her up against a wall. Her laughter died, and heat sparked in her eyes. She lifted her hands, pressing them against his chest, but didn’t push him away. He leaned in until their hips met and their thighs brushed. Her breath quickened. Her pupils dilated. And the look on her face… She wanted him just as badly. She just didn’t know how to jump.

But Grant couldn’t keep playing this game with her. He didn’t do games at all, yet she’d dragged him into this one. And as enticing as it might be, Grant didn’t have enough time. Or enough patience.

She needed a push.

He slid an arm behind her and drew her in with a forearm at the base of her spine. Her softness pressed against his growing erection, and pleasure washed through the lower half of his body. He moaned softly and rocked against her until she made the same sound. Until her lids grew heavy. Until her fingers curled into his shirt. Until she murmured his name in that voice that said
make me come
. “Grant…”

“Is this what you want, Faith? If you want me to take control, I will. But if I lead, I’ll do it my way.”

Her gaze jumped from his mouth to his eyes. “What’s…your way?”

For a split second, he considered lying. He thought about telling her what she wanted to hear just to get her into bed. He wanted her that badly. And that reality—more than anything else—pushed a very harsh description from his mouth.

“If I did it my way, I’d do you right here, right now, up against this wall.”

Her breathing picked up. Her eyes sparked with surprise and lust.

“I’d cover your mouth with my hand and drive into you until you snapped in a screaming climax. All while the whole store, the whole fucking town of Holly, was just six inches away. And it would be our sweet little secret. One you’d think about every time you walked into this room.”

She made a sound in her throat. Her lids dipped. She licked her lips.

“You like that idea,” he said, “don’t you?” And wasn’t that the biggest fucking surprise and the hottest rush?

Her gaze darted away. “I…I don’t know. I can’t think…”

“Then imagine”—he told her, pushing harder, half hoping she shoved him off and walked away, half hoping she told him to take her right then—“because I talk as dirty as I fight, and I fuck as hard as I play.”

She breathed a moan, and her eyelids slid closed.

But it was the feel of her body softening, of the way she started moving with him, not against him, that finally blocked his ability to think.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned, relishing that moment of surrender. “
So…fucking…sweet
. Feel it?” he whispered. “Feel how good it is? Imagine how much better it could be. Naked. Skin on skin.”

She made the slightest shake of her head. “I…wouldn’t know what to do with you.”

He lifted a hand to her jaw and tilted her head back until she opened her eyes to his. “Yes. You would. You’re already doing it.” He let his gaze slide to her mouth. “Fuck, I want to taste you.”

“Grant…” she said in that voice that made him want to rip her clothes off. “I’m not… I can’t…”

“Stop talking yourself out of it and just fucking kiss me already.”

But Grant couldn’t wait anymore. He slid his hand from her jaw, around the back of her neck, and pulled her in. Too rough. Too harsh. Too fast. The way he did everything in life.

Faith gasped, and Grant took the moment to dive in. He kissed her hard. Kept her lips open with the pressure so he could stroke his tongue into her hot mouth and taste her, the way he’d wanted to taste her since she’d met his eyes at the bar with that sassy smirk.

A mewl rose from her throat and fueled Grant’s fire. He pushed his hand into her hair and closed his fingers to keep her there, keep her mouth open so he could taste her and taste her and taste her. Knowing the second he let go, she’d scamper away and never come near him again.

Part of him wanted that. More than he realized until now. Because she tasted like heat and chocolate. Her mouth was sweet and soft and plump. And suddenly, her mouth wasn’t enough. He wanted more. Wanted his mouth on skin. Wanted skin on skin. Wanted his mouth on her pussy, fucking her the way he was tasting her.

And then she kissed him back. She leaned into him, her fingers curled into his shirt, her nails scraped his skin and her tongue… God, the tentative way she tasted him back made Grant
insane
. He growled, tipped his head and demanded more.

A murmur broke into his fantasy. Someone calling Faith’s name. Only it wasn’t him—his mouth was way too busy to talk.

Faith moaned and turned her head, breaking the kiss. She reached out and slapped at the lock on the door, then exhaled and pressed her face against Grant’s neck.

He opened the hand in her hair and cradled her head, feeling the silkiness of the strands for the first time.

“Faith?” The male voice, clear and much closer now, jolted Grant back to reality. He lifted his head and looked toward the door.

The handle turned, and Faith tried to pull away like a guilty kid. But Grant held on while the knob jerked back and forth, and the door remained closed.

“What’s up, Joe?” Faith said.

“You okay?”

The what’s-going-on tone in his voice made Grant dart a look at Faith. She met Grant’s gaze.

And smiled. A small, secretive, embarrassed little smile that knocked Grant’s heart on its ass.

“Yeah,” she said, lifting her fingers to her mouth where her lips were reddened and puffy from Grant’s kiss. A sight that only made him hungrier. “You know, just one of those days.”

“Oh.” Pause. “Okay.” Pause. “Do you want me to have the Makita rep come back after the holidays?”

She stiffened and turned her attention to the door. When Grant didn’t let her go, she closed her eyes. “No.” She winced. “Can you have him wait? I just need a minute.”

“Of course. No problem.”

They stood there a long moment, their bodies pressed together, until all auditory signs of Joe were gone. Then she lifted her gaze to Grant. And now guilt filled the pretty blue irises. “I’m sorry.”

He knew instantly she was talking about more than the interruption. And his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach.

“This isn’t…” she started. “I’m not… I mean, I can’t…” She squeezed her eyes shut and whispered, “Shit.”

Shit was right. He hadn’t been this turned on, this fast, in for-freaking-ever.

Reality was such a fucking bitch.

“Faith?” Joe called from somewhere in the store.

She exhaled heavily, turned her head, and bit out, “What?”

The uncharacteristic snap in her voice was Grant’s signal to put an end to this. He loosened his hold and eased back.

“Sorry, honey,” Joe said, “but the register is wigging out again. Only you can get it to behave.”

“Okay.” Faith closed her eyes, crossed her newly freed arms, and rubbed her forehead. “I’ll be right out.”