Quick Trick (A Rough Riders Hockey Novel Book 1) by Skye Jordan, Joan Swan

tonigh—”
    Psssssssss…
    Faith’s feet froze on the stairs. Her ears perked to the new high-pressured hiss coming from somewhere adjacent to the storage room. It was the kind of sound that prickled the skin on the back of her neck with alarm.
    She turned and started back to the basement, her mind searching for the cause. The explosion shocked her, and Faith tripped over her own feet. She let out a cry just before she hit the cement stairs. Pain cracked through her butt and back, stealing her breath. The box she’d been carrying slammed against the wall, then the floor, spraying silver screws like confetti.
    Faith used her hands to slow her momentum and brace herself once she’d come to a stop. But several moments passed before she could gain control over her breathing to ease the pain that stabbed along her back and butt.
    When it finally eased enough to let her draw full breaths, her other senses came back, and a new horror flooded in—the sound of gushing water.

    * * *
    G rant had pushed everything too far this week—his frustration with his parents, his desire for Faith, and the limits of his own body. And he was paying for all of them.
    He let the hot water pulse from the new showerhead over his right shoulder, glad he’d gone for the more expensive model and all the massage features. After this, he’d stretch, then pack it with ice. Add a little ibuprofen and a good night’s sleep, and he’d be fine tomorrow.
    But sleep wouldn’t come easily. All he had to do was remember the feel of Faith’s warm mouth under his. The gentle way she’d stroked his tongue when she’d found the nerve. The way she felt against him. And, God, the sounds she made when he kissed her…
    All his blood flowed south again. His groin tightened. His cock hardened.
    “Fuck.” Grant opened his eyes to his hard-on and sighed. It was going to be another long night.
    He hit the controls, pulled the towel from the shower door, and pressed it against his face. His brothers would be here tomorrow. Initially, that would buffer him from his parents. But Grant suspected that Patrick and Shawn would become as big a source of stress and frustration as his parents were. And even after all these years, that really disappointed him.
    As he dried off, he thought of Faith and her relationship with her father and Caleb, a boy she wasn’t even related to by blood. They were loving, nurturing, and kind. Because Faith was loving, nurturing, and kind. And it made Grant wonder if it was time to add that kind of happiness and warmth into his own life.
    But that was extremely hard to do in his line of work with a grueling game and practice schedule that included travel, charity and team events. When he was surrounded by women who were more interested in what kind of fame or finances he brought to the table instead of what kind of man he was.
    “And you’re a good man, Grant Saber.”
    Faith’s words made him smile. He didn’t feel like he deserved them, but he wanted to deserve them. Now he wished he had more time to earn them with her.
    His phone chimed with a call. Grant closed his eyes, sighed, and picked up the phone. He didn’t recognize the number, just that it was local, and hoped Bobby Lowry was calling to get together. It would be good to see him and it might help keep Grant’s mind off Faith.
    “Hello,” he answered, scrubbing his hair with the towel.
    “Hey, Grant?”
    He recognized Faith’s voice immediately, which threw him completely off axis. “Faith?”
    She huffed a tired laugh. “Who were you expecting? How many women do you have calling you at this hour?” He grinned at her quick sarcasm, but she didn’t sound quite right. “Hold on. Never mind. Don’t answer that.”
    “Are you out of breath? Or just tipsy?” Lowering his voice, he teased, “Did you get into the Jangle Punch again?”
    “Yeah, that’s it.” There was definitely something off in her voice. “If you get here soon, I might still have some to share