The Deal (Off Campus #1)(56)

"Exactly." Her palm moves gently over my cold knuckles. "Because you're  not like him. No matter how angry someone made you, you wouldn't hit  them."

"That's not true. I've gotten into a brawl or two on the ice," I admit.  "And one time I punched a guy at Malone's, but that's 'cause he said  some nasty shit about Logan's mom and I couldn't not throw down for my  friend."

She sighs. "I'm not saying you're incapable of violence. Everyone is  capable of it. I'm saying you wouldn't hurt someone you love. At least  not intentionally."

I pray to God she's right. But when you inherited your DNA from a man who does hurt the people he loves, who the hell knows.

My hands start to shake, and I know Hannah feels it because she squeezes my right hand to steady it. "Pull over," she says.

I frown again. We're driving down a dark stretch of road, and even  though there are no other cars in sight, I don't like the idea of  stopping in the middle of nowhere. "Why?"

"Because I want to kiss you, and I can't do that when your eyes are on the road."

An unwitting smile springs to my lips. Nobody has ever asked me to pull  over before so they can kiss me, and although I'm exhausted and pissed  off and sad and who knows what else, the thought of kissing Hannah right  now sounds like pure fucking heaven.

Without another word, I pull off onto the shoulder, move the gearshift to park, and flick the emergency blinkers.

She slides closer and grasps my chin. Delicate fingertips stroke my  stubble, and then she leans in and kisses me. Just the fleeting touch of  her lips, before she pulls back and whispers, "You're not like him. You  will never be like him." Her lips tickle my nose before kissing the tip  of it. "You're a good person." She plants a tiny kiss on my cheek.  "You're honest and kind and compassionate." She lightly bites my bottom  lip. "I mean, don't get me wrong, you're a total dick sometimes, but  it's a tolerable kind of dickishness."





  

I can't stop a grin.

"You're not like him," she repeats, firmer this time. "The only thing  you two have in common is that you're both gifted hockey players. That's  it. You are not like him."

Jesus, I needed to hear that. Her words penetrate that terrified place  in my heart, and as the pressure in my chest dissipates, I cup the back  of her head and kiss her hard. My tongue slides into her mouth and I  groan happily, because she tastes like cranberries and smells like  cherries and I fucking love it. I want to kiss her all night, for the  rest of my fucking life, but I haven't forgotten where we are at the  moment.

I reluctantly break the kiss-just as her hand sneaks toward my crotch.

"What are you doing?" I croak, then groan again when she rubs my aching cock over my trousers.

"What does it feel like?"

I grab her hand to still its movements. "I don't know if you're aware of  this, but we're sitting in the car on the side of the road."

"No, really? I thought we were on an airplane on our way to Palm Springs."

I choke out a laugh, but it turns into a wheeze when the temptress  beside me strokes me again. She squeezes the head of my cock, and my  balls tighten, little zings of heat racing through me. Oh hell. This is  so not the time, but I have to know if she's as turned on as I am, and I  can't stop my hand from drifting to her knee. I caress the baby-soft  skin of her thigh before slipping my hand under her dress.

I cup her over her panties and moan when I feel the damp material against my palm. She's wet. Really wet.

Somehow I manage to yank my hand away. "We can't do this."

"Why not?" An impish twinkle dances in her eyes, which doesn't surprise  me, because I'm quickly discovering that Hannah is adventurous as hell  once she lets down her guard and trusts someone.

And it still floors me that it's me she trusts.

"Anyone can drive by." I pause meaningfully. "Including a police patrol."

"Then we better be fast."

Before I can blink, she unzips my pants and slides her hand inside my boxers. My eyes promptly roll to the top of my head.

"Get in the backseat," I burst out.

Her eyes widen, then fill with delight. "Really?"

"Hell, if we're going to do this, we might as well do it right," I answer with a sigh. "Go big or go home, remember?"

It makes me laugh how quickly she dives into the backseat. Chuckling, I  pop the glove box and grab the strip of condoms stashed there, then join  her in the back.

When she sees what I'm holding, her jaw drops. "Are those condoms? Okay,  I think I might be mad about this, except I probably shouldn't be  because it's very helpful right now. But … seriously? You keep condoms in  your car?"

I shrug. "Of course. What if I'm driving along one day and come across Kate Upton stranded on the side of the road?"

Hannah snorts. "I see. Is that your type then? Busty blondes with curves to spare?"

I cover her body with mine and prop my elbows on either side of her.  "Naah, I prefer busty brunettes." I bury my face in her neck and nuzzle  her skin. "One in particular. Who, by the way, also has curves to  spare." My hands slide down to her waist. "And tiny hips." I glide my  palms underneath her and squeeze her round bottom. "And a grabbable  ass." I move one hand between her legs. "And the tightest pussy on the  planet."

She shivers. "You have the dirtiest mouth."

"Yeah, but you still love me."

Her breath hitches. "Yeah. I do." Her green eyes shine up at me. "I love you."

My heart damn near explodes as those three sweet words hang between us.  Other girls have said that to me before, but this time it's different.  Because it's Hannah saying it, and she's not just any girl. And because I  know that when she says she loves me, she actually means me-Garrett-and  not Briar's hockey star, or Mr. Popularity, or Phil Graham's son. She  loves me.

It's difficult to speak past the enormous lump in my throat. "I love  you, too." It's the first time I've told a woman I love her, and it  feels so damn right.

Hannah smiles. Then she pulls my head down and kisses me, and suddenly  we're not talking anymore. I push her dress up and yank my trousers  down. I don't even take off her panties, I just shove the crotch aside,  roll on a condom with one hand, and guide my cock to her opening.

She moans the instant I enter her. And I wasn't kidding about how tight  she is. Her pussy clutches me like a vise and I see stars, so close to  losing it I have to will the climax away.





  

I've fucked girls in my car before.

I've never made love to one.

"You're so beautiful," I mumble, unable to take my eyes off her.

I start to move, dying to go slow and make it last, but I'm painfully  aware of our surroundings. A Good Samaritan-or worse, a cop-might spot  the Jeep and think we need roadside assistance, and if they decide to  approach us, they'll get an eyeful of my bare ass, see my hips pumping  and Hannah's arms clutching my back.

Besides, in this position, it's hard to maneuver. All I can manage is  fast, shallow strokes, but Hannah doesn't seem to mind. She makes the  sexiest noises as I move inside her, breathy sighs and shaky whimpers,  and when I hit this one certain spot inside her, she moans so loudly I  have to clench my ass cheeks to stop from coming. I can feel the orgasm  hurtling toward me, but I want her to come, too. I want to hear her cry  out and milk me dry as her pussy spasms around me.

I reach between us and press my thumb on her clit, rubbing it gently.  "Give it to me, baby," I rasp in her ear. "Come for me. Let me feel you  coming around my cock."

Her eyes squeeze shut, hips rising to meet my hurried thrusts, and then  she cries out in pleasure, and I come so hard my vision wavers and my  mind fragments into a million pieces.

When the mind-shattering pleasure finally abates, I register what song is playing in the car.

My eyes fly open. "Did you re-download One Direction?"

Her mouth twitches. "No … "

"Uh-huh. So why is "Story of my Life" playing?" I demand.

She pauses, then lets out a big sigh. "Because I like One Direction. There. I said it."

"You're lucky I love you," I warn her. "Because I wouldn't stand for it otherwise."

Hannah grins. "You're lucky I love you. Because you're a total asshole and there aren't a lot of girls who'd put up with it."

She's probably right about the asshole thing.

She's definitely right about the lucky part.





37

Hannah


"I DON'T LIKE this," I declare. "I mean it, babe, my legs are starting to hurt. I told you, I'm not flexible."

Garrett's laughter vibrates through my body. My naked body, I should  add, because we're in the middle of having sex. Which I just confessed  to not liking.

Maybe I am a mood killer.

But you know what, I don't care. I'm still vetoing this position.  Garrett kneels in front of me, and my ankles are up on his shoulders.  And maybe if he wasn't a big strapping hockey player, my legs wouldn't  feel like they're resting on top of the frickin' Empire State building  and be cramping the living hell out of me.