Garrett (Cold Fury Hockey 2)

Chapter 6

Olivia

I'm sure.

God, I'm so sure.

I know the exact second my mind was made up and I decided that tonight I was going to put cancer out of my mind. That I was going to let Garrett sweep my worries away. I knew when we kissed in that stairwell of the parking garage, because when his lips touched mine, I didn't think about my lymphoma. I didn't think of the barrage of tests I had done today, or the fact that a doctor was going to drill down into my bone tomorrow to punch out some more tissue for testing. I didn't think about bruises or chemotherapy or dying young.

I thought only of Garrett, and how soft his lips were and how bold his tongue felt against mine. I savored the feel of his muscles under my hands and the smell of his body wash that reminded me of pine trees and freshly mowed grass mixed with masculine male. I had a blessed moment's peace, and I wanted to feel it again. It's a temporary fix to my problems, but I'm selfish enough to take it.

"Olivia...are you okay?" Garrett asks me, and as I focus on his gentle gaze, I realize I don't want his worry or his soft touch.

"I'm fine," I say boldly, dropping my hand down to his pelvis. I press my palm up against his erection and feel well satisfied when he sucks in air between his teeth and pushes forward into my hand. "I want to feel better, though."

"I think I can do something about that," he murmurs, placing his hand over mine and urging me to curl my fingers around him through the rough denim. I squeeze him not so gently and he groans. "Fuck...feels good."

"Will feel better if we can get these clothes off of you," I whisper, moving my hand up to unfasten the button of his jeans.

Garrett grabs my hand, locking my fingers up in a firm grip. "Where's your bedroom? I want some place I can lay you down, because this is going to take a while."

A shiver of excitement runs up my spine and I push past him to lead us back to the bedroom.

When I enter my bedroom, I release Garrett's hand and walk over to my nightstand to turn on the table lamp. It washes the room in a soft, romantic glow...yet I have a feeling what we're getting ready to do isn't going to be romantic at all. I suspect it's going to be electric, hard, and sweaty. Yes, lots of sweat.

Turning to face him, I have a moment's doubt over the path I'm getting ready to take. He stands there watching me, his hands held loosely at his sides, his eyes staring at me hard.

"Changing your mind?" he asks softly. "Because it's okay if you are."

Shaking my head, I reach for the hem of my T-shirt to pull it off, but he murmurs, "Wait."

Stepping up to me, he brushes my hands away and says, "Let me."

My hands fall to my sides, but rather than grab my T-shirt, he reaches behind my head and works the ponytail holder loose from my hair. My hair falls down my back in a heavy cascade, and after tossing the elastic on the nightstand, he runs his fingers through the waves.

"I love your hair," he muses as his eyes watch the path his fingers are taking. "All these colors...just beautiful."

"Not natural," I feel the need to explain, but he shrugs.

"Beautiful all the same. It suits your free spirit."

Oh, his words. They seduce me even further, because never has a man paid attention to my hair. He takes his time, sifting his fingers through my hair and letting it float back down around my shoulders.

"I wonder what you have on under here," he contemplates as his hands move to the hem of my shirt. Lifting the material over my head, I go momentarily blind, but I don't miss the hum of approval in the back of his throat.

"Pink silk. Breathtaking," he murmurs as he tosses my shirt to the floor. When I blink my eyes back open, I find him looking in hunger at my breasts. His eyes glitter with appreciation and his hand comes up so that he can drag his knuckles over the swells. Electric pulses radiate from my skin as he touches me.

Dragging his hand down, he grazes over one of my nipples and I gasp from the shock of his touch. I can actually feel my skin pucker and tighten from that light brush.

I watch Garrett watching his own hand as he touches me. He skims the back of his hand over my breast and down to my stomach...all the way down until he reaches the button on my shorts. My pulse is racing and my breathing starts to go shallow in anticipation of his next move.

I fully expect him to divest me of my shorts, but he keeps traveling south until he turns his wrist and slips his hand right between my legs. He cups me gently, digging the heel of his palm in just a tad. "So warm," he murmurs.

My breath rushes out from between my lips and I suck a shaky one back in. His movements are so slow...so deliberate and gentle. Not what I expected from this big, dynamic man standing in front of me.

With this hand resting between my legs, Garrett leans in and gives me a slow, open-mouthed kiss that I feel all the way down to my toes. But it's brief, and he pulls his hand away along with his lips. Stepping back from me a foot, he takes his own shirt over his head and drops it to the floor.

My mouth goes dry over the physical perfection standing before me. Yeah...he's a professional athlete and all, but damn. The man is rock-solid, with rolling peaks and valleys of muscles that my fingers itch to touch. The word Strength is tattooed over his right rib cage in big, dark gothic letters, and that is an apt word to describe him. He has tribal tattoos over his right shoulder and the outer edge of his biceps.

Garrett's hands go to the button of his jeans, and my hands involuntarily come up to unsnap my own.

"Don't," Garrett commands as he watches me. A playful smile comes to his lips. "I'm going to finish doing that, but I want to get my clothes off first. I don't want anything stopping me once I get started with you."

Oh, jeez. My knees wobble over the thought of what he's going to do to me. But I do as he asks and let my hands lower. I watch as he squats down to untie the laces of his boots, then as he stands back up to kick them off. Even watching as he pulls his socks off is sexy as hell for some reason, because the man moves with confidence and grace. Just like I know he does on the ice.

Then I get all twitchy as Garrett finally pops the button on his jeans and lowers his zipper. I've gotten a good idea of what lies beneath, because I can see it bulging nicely against the denim and I had my fingers curled briefly around it not long ago.

But nothing prepares me as he reaches into the opening and pulls his cock free of the zipper...giving a smooth stroke with his palm before he releases it and pushes his jeans the rest of the way off. Bending over, he quickly grabs his wallet out of the back pocket and pulls a condom out. He tosses it on the bed and drops his wallet to the floor without a backward glance.

"I like having your eyes on me," Garrett says, and my eyes snap up to meet his gaze. I swear I can feel electricity snapping and crackling in the air between us, and his look is so sensual, I almost feel like there's a magnet that wants to pull me across the brief expanse of carpet to him. I want to press up against him tight and rub myself over every inch of his skin. I want to touch him...squeeze and stroke, and, damn...even my mouth waters with thinking about taking him in my mouth.

"God, I'd love to know what's going on in that beautiful head of yours," Garrett mutters as he steps up to me and his fingers go to the button at my shorts once more. "The look on your face right now...as you look at me."

"I just...you're just...your body is just stunning," I stutter out hesitantly.

His lips curve upward and I see a flash of teeth before he leans down and kisses me softly. When he pulls back, he says, "You're the one that's stunning, Olivia. I can't wait to see if you taste as good as you look."

A tiny groan pops out of my mouth, and Garrett chuckles as he opens up the fly on my shorts and starts to push the material past my hips. He squats down before me and my hands come up to rest on his shoulders while he has me lift one leg after another to get the shorts off me.

As Garrett stands up, his arms come up around the backs of my legs, wrapping tight under my ass, and he lifts me up into his arms. My legs

automatically wrap around his waist, even as he starts kissing me again.

Deep...mouths open, tongues searching again. His kiss is sizzling hot as he alternates between leisurely swipes of his tongue and tiny nibbles against my lips. Spinning toward the bed, I can feel him raise a leg up and then we are both lowering to the mattress...all the way down until he's lying hot and heavy between my legs.

Garrett continues to kiss me...on my mouth, my jaw, my neck...and I can't help when I flex my hips upward, grinding myself against him. Groaning, he pulls up from my mouth and peers down at me. His jawline is hard, the muscles in his neck corded tight as he supports his weight above me with his arms.

"You drive me crazy," he says with his teeth clenched. "No regrets tomorrow...right?"

I raise a hand up to stroke his cheek. "No regrets. I promise I want this."

No, I need this, but I keep that to myself. He'd never understand all the reasons I need it so badly.

"I'm going to make you feel so good, Olivia. I promise you that," he says, and then scoots back a bit so he can lower his head to my breast. Garrett places an open mouth over the silk of my bra and sucks against my nipple through the fabric. My back arches off the bed, hungry for more. He doesn't disappoint, reaching up to drag both of the cups down over the swells of my breasts. He tucks the material under, then covers me with the palms of his hands. He kneads and squeezes gently, all while he devours his own actions with hot and greedy eyes.