End Game (New York Stars Book 1)

𝅘𝅥𝅮 𝄠 Delicate – Damien Rice

LIKE I TOLD HER, this isn’t my first rodeo, but it’s still a good feeling to know that we haven’t sucked ass this season despite the growing pains the team has had and the injuries we’ve been plagued with recently.

Everyone’s in a good mood on the ride to the plane because not even Lewis and Raimond start bickering, a miracle that continues for the entirety of the flight.

By the time we’re back in New York, fatigue has set in for a lot of us.

It’s been an intense month and the pressure was high. Thanks to a couple of fuckups at the start, where we mostly lost, we had a lot of ground to make up for.

The worst part was that Gracie was getting blamed in the press. I’m actually a douche for downplaying what tonight’s win means for the team. Her relief must be intense.

No one realizes how hard it is dating a pro athlete.

Earlier this week, the papers were saying I’d gained weight and that was because Gracie hadn’t been cooking the right food for her boyfriend…

How chauvinistic is that?

Like we don’t have nutritionists anal-retentively managing our macros and micros, for fuck’s sake.

Vowing to make my assholery up to her, I trudge off the plane and head toward the car.

Hudson greets me with an open door and I slip inside and sink into the cushions with a yawn.

“Great game, sir.”

“Liam, Hudson. Liam,” I correct for the millionth time. “How have things been?”

“Fine, sir. Gracie was accosted by the press outside the apartment building yesterday afternoon and she managed not to punch the reporter. I think we both know how much of a win that was.”

I grin into the darkness. “Yeah, a massive win.”

More massive than what just happened in Calgary.

“What did they want?”

Hudson has picked up on the fact that Gracie won’t tell me everything that happens when I’m away or when I’m not with her, so we’ve got a bro code situation going down.

Honestly, if the Stars stopped paying Hudson to drive me around, I’d pay him instead. The guy’s smart, sees more than he should, and picks up on more intimate details about Gracie than her security does.

Not that she realizes I have more security on her.

Hudson does though.

That falls under the bro code limitation too.

“They wanted to know why you failed to make that penalty shot in Minnesota.”

Grimacing, I dig my fingers into my eyes. “Like that was her fault.”

“They do seem to be targeting her. I’m not certain why. She’s a Bukowski. It’s not as if she doesn’t understand the hockey mentality.”

My grimace darkens.

The ‘hockey mentality.’

I’m pretty sure that Gracie’s happy with me, but it’s shit like this that could wreck things for us.

Her being vilified by everyone under the sun because the team lost a couple games… How long is she going to be willing to put up with that bullshit?

I’m the top scorer but I’m only one fucking man. It takes a team to win but you wouldn’t know that from what they print in the press or say on PSN.

By the time Hudson drops me off at home and I’m making it up to my floor, I’m wearier than ever.

If the media ruins this for Gracie and me, I’m not sure what I’ll do.

Retire to Manitoba, maybe?

Become a legit hermit?

Go full wild man of the wilderness just to punish the hockey fans who have supported me but have turned their backs on the one woman I want because God forbid I’m allowed to be happy?

Dumping my suitcase by the door to sort in the morning, I slip out of my shoes so that I don’t squeak as I walk down the hall, which is when I see the bedroom door is open.

Just as she said she’d be, she’s sleeping. I can tell because she switched off that wax melt thing she burns and there’s a glow from the TV screen that she leaves on all night.

Except, it’s always on mute and…

There’s a buzzing sound.

I know exactly what it is.

“Ah, fuck, Gracie,” I groan, tearing at my shirt buttons and dragging it off as I make it to the door.

My pants come next as she whimpers and my mouth immediately waters as my cock leaps to attention.

The sight of her with her legs spread and a vibrator pumping in and out of that delicious cunt is honestly spank bank material, but it’s the fact that she’s moaning, “Liam, fuck, Liam, please, come and give me your dick. This doesn’t even fill me,” that’s got my blood pressure soaring.

As I clamber onto the bed, the scent of her arousal perfumes the air.

I could glut on it. Glut on her.

Jesus fuck.

Bowing my head to get a better view, I snag the vibrator away from her. As I rub it over her clit, I watch as she lowers her hand and thrusts two fingers into her slit.

“Oh, God. I can’t. You’re too… Fuck. I need to come. Now! Liam, please. Please. Fuck!”

Groaning, I lick those digits, joining in the fray, loving how she wails and the tendons in her inner thighs pull taut and strain as she burrows her heels into the bed and rides the waves of release.

Retreating, I drag the vibrator away from her clit, ignoring her hissed breath of complaint. Instead, I move it through her folds, collecting her juices and getting the device wet.

In a coordinated attack, I press an open-mouthed kiss to her clit while I place pressure on her ass. As the vibrator sinks home, I nip and suck and lick the nub until her screams impact me louder than a crowd of twenty thousand at the Stars’ stadium.

This is my oxygen now.

She is what breathes goddamn life into me.

As she comes and comes and comes, I don’t stop feeding her pleasure, wanting to give her this when, sometimes, I feel like I give her nothing but misery.

When she spreads her fingers, as if she isn’t full enough, I’m tempted to work my way into her. But instead, I surge up the bed and rest my dick against her slit as I kiss her, letting her taste herself, moaning with the delight of it when she moans in return.

As I rock my hips, as I kiss her and distract her, my hand digs into the nightstand. It’s not like I don’t make a racket but keeping her busy, I find the lube I put there weeks ago in preparation for this.

“You want me to fill you, Gracie?”

She cries out, “Please. Fuck, please. God, Liam, I need you inside me. Now.” Her knees dig into my hips and she jerks hers up as if that alone will get my dick to go where she wants me.

“You feel like something different?”

Immediately, she tenses.

And I know we’re on the same page.

“You’re going to break me,” she whimpers, her arms clutching at me in a way that speaks louder than words.

Her claws are out and I’ve never wanted to be mauled more.

“You telling me you don’t want to be broken,” I rasp, nipping her bottom lip, tugging on it before letting it fly back.

“Only by you,” she mewls.

Fucking A.

Grabbing my pillow, I change her position, altering how her ass rests on the bed. Levering her upright, I try not to blow my wad at the sight of her pussy clutching around her slim fingers.

Unable to stop myself, I quickly press a wet kiss to her clit before I get to business.

“God, Liam, what you do to me. You drive me crazy. Please, baby, I need you! Fuck me. Hard. Please.”

We haven’t been using condoms, but I still snag two from my stash, ones that have been hanging around for this very moment.

Pushing away from her, I swiftly enrobe the vibe in one, and then my dick. Coating my cock in the lube, I cover my fingers in it too then slide them over and around the pucker.

“Touch your clit, bébé,” I rumble, watching as she obeys with surprising-for-Gracie alacrity.

As she fingers herself, I slide one of my own into her ass, getting her used to the thicker invasion, then I start to thrust a second and a third in.

“I’m so wet for you,” she cries. “Do you see?”

God, I see.

When I think she can take me, I press the tip of my cock to her rosette and slowly start to slide home. While she’s touching her clit, I get the vibe and switch it on as I thrust that into her cunt.

“LIAM!”

With the triple attack, she immediately goes off like a light show.

How she clenches around me is brutal.

“You are so fucking tight,” I bite out as she writhes against the bed.

“Nothing feels as good as your dick. God, I love it. I need you to fuck me, Liam. Fuck me, please. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

The pleasure’s too much, though, because she rears up, her arms coming around my waist, nails digging into my shoulders as she draws me into her.

With our mouths colliding, she fucks me there while I’m careful not to hurt her.

As her hips start to buck back, I know she’s ready for more, so I quicken my pace, sliding in as deep as I can.

“God, you take me like such a good girl, baby, but I need you to relax a little. Let me…” She obeys immediately, and we both groan as I slide in deeper. “Fuck. Fuck.” My head rears back as the sheer exquisiteness of this moment rams me in the solar plexus.

This is Gracie.

Not only is she letting me inside her, but this is her ass. She’s trusting me with this. With her. She’s in my bed. In my apartment.

We’re in this together.

That, combined with her sheer, exquisite tightness, is what gets me off.

I’m so close to saying the words, letting them spill from my lips, but I don’t want to ruin this for her if she isn’t ready.

The trust she’s showing me here has to be enough.

It has to be.

To stop myself, I thrust my tongue into her mouth, riding the burst of ecstasy that only she can give me, soaring even higher when she comes again, screaming into the kiss, her entire body tensing up as her orgasm annihilates her.

When she slumps into the bedding, I follow her. One hand falls beside her head, and the other drags the vibrator from her slit. Switching it off, I toss it on the floor, ignoring the clank as I give her my weight and feed her a softer kiss that she melts into.

“I need to thank Hudson,” I mumble against her lips.

She freezes. “What?!”

When her nails dig into my shoulders again, a warning and a threat imparted, I chuckle. “There’s no way that that wasn’t a coordinated effort.”

Immediately, the danger from her claws fades. “Damn, you figured that out?”

“As much as I’d love to think of you in my bed touching this beautiful pussy all day and all night, bébé, I can’t see it. You’re too practical for that.”

She snickers. “Damn. Hoist by my own petard.”

Grinning as I kiss her again, I murmur, “It’s like if we ever do get to have phone sex, I know for a fact you’ll be lying if I ask you if you’re naked.”

“Shut up! You’re ruining my aura of mystery,” she wails, but she’s laughing and I feel it even more because my dick, though softening, is still partly in her.

“Wow, that feels even better than just seeing you laugh,” I muse, resting my forehead against hers.

Her butt clenches down, making me hiss. “What about now?”

My chuckle is goofy. “Perfection. I like making you laugh.” Her amusement morphs into a hiccup as she nuzzles into me. “Like your dirty mouth even better. Fuck, Gracie, wherever you come up with that stuff, keep hitting me with it. Please.”

“Remember you asked me if I worked for a sex line?”

I pause. “No way.”

“Yes way,” she coos, her voice extra breathy.

“Fuuuck,” I rumble. “God, talk about an apprenticeship and I’m reaping the rewards.”

She hums. “I’m glad you enjoy it. My exes never did.”

“They’re fucking idiots then.” I knew that anyway because they let her go.

Thank God they did.

“I missed you.”

The relief that sinks into my veins is better than a pure shot of heroin. “And I missed you, Gracie. So fucking much.”

She clings to me, her arms sliding around my shoulders again as she draws me close. The condom needs to be dealt with, and we should probably shower, and I need to shave again, but for the moment, we just lie there, together.

In this, together.

Here, together.

And somehow, I know I won’t have to deal with any nightmares tonight.