Quick Trick (Rough Riders Hockey 1)

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 d

one. 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.