Catching Her Heart

by Marquita Valentine

“No, ma’am. I’m a professional athlete. We train for nights like this.”

  I break away from his embrace, casting a sultry look over my shoulder while hoping I don’t do something dumb like trip over Bluebelle. “Why don’t you show me?”

  Please let him follow me.

  A second later, Ryan scoops me up in his arms and I smile. “How’s this for a first play?”

  “It’s a good start.”

  He lays me on the bed and crouches over me, his gaze roaming over my body. I touch his face, rubbing my hand over his five o’clock shadow.

  “You’re beautiful,” he says.

  I glance away. “I’m not.”

  He captures my chin in his hand. “Never argue with someone who’s twice your size.” Straddling my legs, he begins to work at the buttons of my blouse. “Repeat after me, ‘I’m beautiful.’”

  “I’m beautiful,” I whisper, feeling foolish. The material parts, baring my demi-cup bra to him.

  “And I’ve got the greatest pair of tits the world has ever seen.”

  “And I’ve got the greatest pair of—Ryan!” I punch him in the shoulder. “I am not saying that.”

  He leans down, blowing lightly on my lace-covered nipple. “I will. I’ll shout it from the rooftops.”

  “Don’t you dare!”

  Peering at me through his ridiculously long lashes, he says, “How about if I whisper it?”

  “No.”

  “Sing it?”

  “Oh my Lord.”

  “You want me to pray about them? Maybe even thank God for them?”

  I break out in helpless giggles. “No, you idiot. I don’t want you to do anything but admire them.”

  “Normally, I’d be upset if the woman I’m in bed with is laughing and calling me an idiot, but I really like how the movement makes your breasts jiggle.”

  Tears leak from the corners of my eyes. “Where have you been all my life, Ryan Shea Turner?”

  His gaze is tender. “Waiting on you.”

  Once again, his head dips to mine. His lips brush over my mouth in a tender kiss. I kiss him back eagerly. Greedily. I have to have him. With a fierceness I didn’t know I was capable of, I grab his button-down shirt and yank at the center.

  Buttons pop and go flying. Ryan pulls back a little, a wicked grin appearing on his mouth. “Is that how you want it tonight?”

  Rather than answering him with words, I unfasten the front of my bra. “Take off the rest,” I order.

  Determination and lust glint in his dark eyes. He almost rips my dress off while I tug, unfasten, and pull at his jeans. Before I know it, we’re pressed skin to skin, his tongue in my mouth and my legs wrapped around his waist.

  His thick cock brushes at my core, teasing and making me wish he could slide right in. Making me wish we didn’t need anything between us.

  His hips surge against mine, and I moan. One of his big hands wraps around my thigh, and he pulls it up and over his arm.

  “Much better,” he murmurs, staring down. He slides his cock between my curls, where I’m wet and slick and hot for him, over and over again until my entire body feels as though it’s about to go up in flames. “Feel good?”

  “Yes,” I all but shout.

  He laughs low in his throat and runs a hand over my breast, pinching and rolling my nipple between his fingers. Then he takes it in his mouth, sucking and nibbling until I beg him to end the torment.

  “I’m just getting started, sweetness,” he says as he pushes my thighs wide. Then he leans up and kisses the side of my neck, nibbling on my ear and licking his way down my throat.

  My body shakes as he rubs his jaw along my collarbone and cups my breasts in his big hands. He kisses the skin under them, then licks a pattern across my stomach.

  “Seven,” he says. “That’s how many times I plan on making you come tonight.” He cants his head to one side. “For starters.”

  “I can’t come seven times in one night,” I protest.

  Paying me no mind, he just keeps kissing, tonguing, and nibbling at my body. He licks my clit once... twice, and I cry out his name as I go over the edge.

  Again and again.

  He’s like a machine, a machine made of flesh and intent on drawing out every last bit of pleasure from my body.

  I cry out his name, my fingers digging into the mattress.

  “How many are we up to now?” he asks from between my thighs after I shatter for the third time—or is it the fourth?

  “I don’t know,” I say, even as my body yearns for more.

  “If you’re still talking, then I’m not doing my job.” He lowers his mouth, spreading me again. “Prettiest, wettest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

  He touches and strokes me everywhere, even at one point turning me over on my stomach to kiss the cheeks of my butt.

  “Every inch of you is perfection,” he says, dragging his cock along the inseam of my bottom. I tense up slightly. “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll save that for another time.”

  “Will I like it?” I ask.

  “You’ll love it.”

  “But what if I don’t?”

  “Then we don’t.”

  I exhale. That wouldn’t have been Dean’s answer. Ever. His motto had been to keep trying until I caved in and resented him later, then he’d make me feel guilty for being upset.

  “Don’t think about him,” Ryan says, flipping me over. His face is serious, slight jealousy clear on it. “We’re the only two people in the room, and you’re the only woman on my brain. Let me be the only man on yours.”

  “Sorry,” I whisper.

  He cups the side of my face before pressing a heated kiss to my lips and sliding inside of me. “Who’s in you now?”

  “You.” I let out a gasp. “Oh, God. You are...” My body bows off the bed at his erotic invasion.

  Withdrawing slightly, he thrusts forward again. “That’s right.” He withdraws again and slides forward, over and over, until he’s deep inside of me.

  “So deep,” I moan.

  He kisses the tip of my nose. “So tight.” He palms my butt, lifts my hips slightly, then thrusts home. “How’s that?”

  “Do it again.”

  My breasts bounce with each of his measured thrusts. I writhe under him, wrapping my legs around his waist and begging him to go faster. Harder.

  Letting go of my butt, he grabs the headboard and pins me to the bed with his lower body. Then he begins to drive into me so hard all I can do is take it. Take him. With every thrust, his skin rubs my swollen clit.

  “Touch yourself,” he growls. “I want to watch you come. Want to feel you milk me.”

  I’m not sure what to do at first, so unused to someone talking during sex.

  “C’mon, sweetness. Show me how you liked to be touched.”

  His gravelly words do for me what nothing else can. They give me the confidence to try. Our skin is slick as I reach between my thighs, as I find my clit and begin to rub firmly. In no time at all, I’m spasming helplessly around him.

  “Fuck,” he mutters. “I need to come.”

  I trail my hand slowly up my body, circling my nipple.

  He lets out a curse, then pumps furiously inside of me. His head drops into the pillow as he slows, his arms falling from the headboard to pull me to him as he rolls to one side.

  “I put on a condom,” he mumbles. “Right before...”

  I smile sleepily against his chest. “I trust you to protect us.”

  His hands coast down my back. “I’ll go clean up in a minute.”

  “Take your time,” I say as he slides out of me. I wince a little. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Good,” he says. “’Cause neither am I.”

  Chapter 19

  Ashley

  The following weeks are like one big dream. I’ve never felt so loved before, not even with Dean before he abandoned me.

  Then again, if he’d loved me like he claimed, he wouldn’t have moved on without me.

 
Ryan cups the back of my neck, pulling me in for a kiss. As soon as we break apart, Gunner and Bluebelle jump onto the couch with us.

  “My place isn’t as homey as yours,” he says apologetically.

  I nod at the floor-to-ceiling windows in his penthouse. “But the view is way more amazing.”

  He touches my face. “I don’t know about that.”

  Sighing, I lay my head on his shoulder, and he clicks on the afternoon news sports recap.

  “Rumor has it that Ryan Turner, wide receiver for Raleigh’s very own Renegades, is being courted by the Patriots,” the woman says.

  Ryan tenses up slightly, but I rub his leg. “We can talk later.” I’m not worried. If he wanted to go to Boston, he would have told me by now. We talk about the future often enough. He’s always asking me if I’ve come up with my next brilliant design. Always asking if I want to start up another company.

  I frown.

  Ryan’s always asking about my future plans. Whenever I try to broach the subject of his plans, he always deflects and brings it back to me.

  Not that any of it matters. Haven’t I told myself I’m here to enjoy Ryan’s company? Haven’t I convinced myself this is nothing more than a fling, a way to get back into the dating game?

  My heart turns over in my chest.

  Yes, I have told myself that, but it was before we slept together. Before we spent so much time together. Before he met my brothers and parents, and I met his sisters and mother. Before we spent every available minute together.

  Oh no.

  We’re a couple. An honest-to-goodness couple, and the thought of him leaving makes me want to break down.

  I’m in love with him.

  Inwardly shaking my head, I refuse to believe it. There’s no way I fell so hard, so quickly. That’s not me. It took two years for me to tell Dean I loved him.

  Ryan isn’t Dean.

  I take a deep breath, and Ryan relaxes against me.

  Ryan isn’t Dean, I repeat.

  No matter how I feel about Ryan, he wouldn’t keep something like that from me.

  “Do you want to spend the night?” he asks on a yawn.

  “Does Bluebelle love to lick Gunner’s eyeball?”

  Ryan grimaces. “You have a way with words, Ashley.”

  “Thank you.”

  “A really awful way with words. I hope that’s not one of your dreams.”

  “Har-har, Mr. Funnyman. Why don’t you tell me your dreams?”

  He pulls me onto his lap. “I’ll tell you about this fantasy I’ve been wanting to come true.” Even as my heart drops to my toes, my body heats up, responding to his wickedly talented hands as he tells me about some highly creative uses for pearls and blindfolds.

  “Sound like something you’d be willing to try?” he asks.

  I wriggle my bottom against his erection. “Do I get to use the pearls and blindfolds on you?”

  “The pearls are for you, but I’m okay with the blindfolds.”

  “Deal.” He cuts off the television and pulls me to my feet before leading me into his bedroom.

  Then he makes his fantasy my reality.

  Chapter 20

  Ryan

  I can’t sleep.

  The rumors about me going to Boston are on this side of true. As in I’m seriously considering it again, but J.R. is forcing my hand. The man has signed Dean Clark. Even if I weren’t dating Ashley, I would view that move as a deal breaker.

  I run a hand over her back, marveling at the soft, pale skin that glows in the moonlight. Unlike most redheads, she doesn’t have a single freckle on her.

  Something I’m slightly disappointed about, because I would enjoy taking the time to connect the dots with my tongue. She sighs in her sleep, scooting closer to me. There’s a single strand of pearls wrapped around her wrist.

  It’s my gift to her. The pearls are real, and so were the orgasms I gave her. And she’d given me ones right back.

  I sit up, careful not to disturb her, then get up and make my way to my home office. Booting up my laptop, I switch on a light and then sit.

  The email from the Pats practically glows neon yellow. Then green. I want to go. I want to say yes. Not only that, but I want to be honest with Ashley and share what I want with her.

  According to Dean, the reason he broke up with her was because she refused to move. She refused to accept his lifestyle, and she’d wanted him to give it all up.

  Although I don’t trust Dean as far as I can punt him, I know Ashley loves living here. She loves being near her family. Loves having Sunday dinners with them. She loves being able to pop over to her brother’s house for supper, and host book club for snotty women who finally come around to her way of thinking about romance novels.

  I scrub my hand across my face.

  There has to be truth in there somewhere. Ashley has never given the specifics about her relationship with Dean, but I know she was hurt. I know she loved Dean.

  Does she love me?

  Am I in love with her?

  I exhale.

  Those are the million-dollar questions keeping me up at night when I should be in bed with Ashley.

  Gunner pads over, laying his big head on my knee.

  “Hey, boy. What’s the matter?”

  Gunner whines.

  “I told you... no sleeping in the bed when Ashley’s here. There’s not enough room for everyone.”

  Gunner blows air through his nose, as if to say women.

  “Let’s go to bed, buddy.” I turn off my computer and the light, then move to my bedroom, Gunner hot on my heels.

  When I climb in, I encounter a warm, wriggly bundle of dog. “Bluebelle,” I whisper-shout, but she pays me no mind.

  “I don’t care, Ryan,” Ashley murmurs sleepily. “Tell Gunner to get in bed with us, too.”

  Gunner doesn’t have to be told twice. He jumps on the bed, circles a spot three times, and then promptly falls on one side. Within seconds, the dogs are snoring, Ashley’s tugging on my arm, and I’m joining her, laying in the smallest amount of bed available.

  “A hell of a life,” I mutter with a grin.

  Next week, I’ll talk to Ashley about Boston, but first I have to make a little trip to the jeweler and make reservations at Mallory Grille—her favorite restaurant in Raleigh.

  No matter what, she’ll believe me over anyone else, because she made a promise to me.

  Chapter 21

  Ashley

  I pull my car into my driveway, frowning at the expensive sports car already sitting there. It can’t be Ryan’s because he drives a huge pickup truck. I park behind the car, open my door, and get out.

  The sports car’s door opens, and my world closed in. “Dean?”

  “Ash, baby,” Dean says, moving to me and taking me into his arms before I can shove him away.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, finally pushing him away and taking a step back.

  “I’ve been traded to Raleigh. I’m their new running back.”

  “But that’s Ryan’s position.”

  “It was his position, and now it’s mine.”

  “But you play for The Heat.” None of this makes any sense.

  Dean shakes his head, taking my hands in his. “I know you don’t understand sports, Ash, but when players are traded, that means one stays and the other goes. Ryan’s leaving.”

  “That’s news to me.” Ryan hasn’t said a damn thing to me. Except, I agreed to not believe anyone talking about his career but him. That doesn’t make everything okay, but it does make me feel a little better.

  “I’m sure he has his reasons.”

  I yank my hands away. “What are you doing here?”

  “Thought I’d stop by to see what you were up to.”

  “Now that you’ve seen me, you can leave,” I say, determined to not say another word about Ryan or show how I feel right now. I just want Dean to leave so I can go to Ryan and get the truth.

  He touches my cheek. “I think we should gi
ve things another try. I’ve really grown since we’ve been apart and I miss you. I didn’t realize how much until I actually saw you.”

  “Get the hell off my property or else.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  “Just listen to me, Ash.”

  “Remember that time you told me not to be violent?”

  He laughs. “Ridiculous, I know. You wouldn’t hurt a fly, not even if it was biting the ever-loving shit out of you.”

  “Dean?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ve changed.” I let my fist fly. It lands with a satisfactory crunch against his nose, even as pain explodes in my fingers. “Holy shit, that hurts.”

  His hands fly up as blood goes everywhere. “What the hell, Ash!” He leans his head back, moaning and groaning against his palms.

  “Wow, Dean, you don’t look so good.”

  His eyes widen in response.

  “Let me help you to your car.” With my good hand, I open the door and manage to smack his knee.

  “Fuck!”

  “I’m so sorry, Dean. You remember how clumsy I am.”

  “Not really,” he says, folding himself into the driver’s seat.

  “Then let me remind you,” I say, then swing the door shut on his leg.

  He lets out another howl of pain.

  Finally, I break down and really let my anger out, “That’s for leaving me on our wedding day, you selfish pig!” I throw my whole body against the car door, smashing his leg again. “And that’s for assuming you knew what I wanted without asking me. And for showing up here, sniffing around me like I’d take you back. You thought you could slide right back into my life since I’m convenient for you.”

  “I’m sorry, okay. I made a mistake.” Dean shouts. I make to hit the door against him again, but stop at the last second. “Son of a bitch, Ashley. Stop.”

  “I hope the Renegades lose every game you play in and realize you’re a bad-luck charm, then kick your ass to the curb, loser.” I dust off my hands, ignoring the throbbing pain. “Now, unless you want to go another round, I suggest you leave.”

  Dean can’t shut his door fast enough. Tires smoking, he speeds out of here, leaving marks on my driveway.