A Lie for a Lie

by Hunting, Helena

  “Well, not you, exactly, but the whole situation at my cabin—and I don’t want you to think I came here because I want your help or anything. Or that I’m trying to mooch a meal off of you or take over your kitchen. Really, I just wanted to see you again, and say I’m sorry, and thank you.”

  “First of all, you don’t need to apologize for anything—and I offered to drive you to your place, mostly for selfish reasons.”

  “What’s selfish about going out of your way for someone else?”

  “I wanted to spend more time with you, Lainey, without coming across as too forward or pushy.” Or scaring you off. Which seems likely with how nervous she is most of the time. I’m getting used to it, though, and it’s pretty damn endearing.

  “Oh.” Her tongue sweeps across her bottom lip as she contemplates that bit of honesty. “Well, in that case, I didn’t bring the beer over just as an apology and a thank-you—I wanted to see you again too.”

  “And here you are.”

  “And here I am.” She blinks her big doe eyes at me, a small, shy smile on her full lips.

  “If you haven’t figured it out already, I’m really happy about that, and not just because you make kick-ass twice-baked potatoes.”

  That blush of hers amps up a couple of shades of pink.

  I skim her warm cheek with a knuckle.

  “Do I have something on my face?” Her voice is soft and whispery.

  “No. You’re blushing, and it’s sweet.” I tip my head down in silent request.

  “I like the way that feels.” Lainey takes a small step forward and reaches up. Her breasts brush against my diaphragm, and her very warm, soft fingers caress my cheek, mirroring the touch.

  “Am I blushing too?”

  “Maybe.” She bites her lip to suppress a smile.

  I dip down a little more. “Lainey?”

  “Yes, RJ?”

  “Can I kiss you?”

  “I was hoping you would, so please, yes.” She tips her chin up, and her eyes fall closed.

  I curl my fingers around the delicate curve of her neck, feeling the heavy rush of blood pumping against my palm. I bend to touch my lips to hers. Her grip on my shoulders tightens, nails biting through my shirt as she makes the sweetest, softest sound. So of course I do it again—and again.

  Lainey’s hand slides higher, fingertips dancing along my collar until they slip into the hair at the nape of my neck and tug. She parts her lips and flicks her tongue out. It’s all the confirmation I need that we’re on the same page. I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her against me.

  I suck her pouty bottom lip like I’ve wanted to since I met her and follow with a nibble. She gasps and pulls away, gaze darting from my mouth to my eyes and back. “I feel that through my whole body.”

  “Should I do it again?”

  She nods once and whispers, “Please, yes, and thank you.”

  So I do it again, and I’m rewarded by yet another sweet gasp, followed by a low moan.

  The kiss goes from tentative exploration to frantic in seconds. Dishes forgotten, we stand in front of the sink and make out. It feels a lot like it did when I was back in high school with my first-ever girlfriend, when everything was new. God, I’ve missed this: being with someone who’s genuinely into me. Not because I’m an NHL player—not because I have money, or a sweet ride, or any of the other reasons that typically draw women to me—but because we’re acting on a mutual attraction.

  One of her hands roams over my chest and down my abs. I will it to go lower, but as soon as she reaches my belt she heads back up. I shift her a little so she’s pressed up against the counter. If there weren’t a pile of dirty dishes strewn all over it, I’d lift her up so I don’t have to bend down quite as far.

  I want to run my hands all over her body, but I take into consideration all the things I’ve learned about her tonight. It sounds like she’s been pretty sheltered, so I let her take the lead and wait for her to make the next move.

  She feels behind her, elbow bumping a pot on the counter and almost knocking over an empty glass. She makes a muffled sound of annoyance as she presses her hips into mine.

  Lainey breaks the kiss long enough to suck in a deep breath and peek around me. I’m about to suggest we take it to the living room and that I’m more than happy to carry her there. Before I can say a word, she pulls my mouth back down to hers and sidesteps over to the table. The kiss grows sloppy and wet as she reaches around me. I try to figure out what she’s up to, but I can’t without separating our mouths again, which I’m really not inclined to do.

  “Here, sit,” she mumbles into my mouth as the chair scrapes across the floor. She pushes on my shoulders, and I drop into the chair. Lainey follows, her ass resting on my thighs. Maybe I’m a little off base about how sheltered she is. I definitely should’ve moved this to the living room when I had the chance. The couch is way more comfortable. Lots of room for stretching out and lying down.

  We kiss like we’ve been starving for each other, hands roaming but staying in mostly safe zones.

  She rolls her hips, and I groan at the friction. Lainey goes stiff and still, gasping when she feels me. Her hands rest on my shoulders, and she pushes away, eyes wide.

  “Oh my God.” She clambers out of my lap and backs up into the counter. “I am so sorry.”

  Me too. Because I’m missing all of that soft and hot rubbing up on my aching, disappointed hard-on. “For what?” It’s mostly a croak.

  “For throwing myself at you. I’m not usually so forward. I really don’t know what got into me.” The color rises in her cheeks. “I should probably head back to my cabin.” She smooths out her shirt and adjusts her jeans.

  “Whoa, wait.” I stand and snag her wrist before she can make a move to actually leave. “I need to sober up a little before I can drive you back.” I don’t want to take her back to that shitty cabin at all, but I also don’t want to make her more uncomfortable than she already is.

  Her eyes are fixed on my chin, cheeks flaming. “It’s okay—you don’t need to do that. I can just walk.”

  “It’s midnight, Lainey—there’s no way you’re walking anywhere.”

  Her eyes flip up to mine, and her lips flatten into a line. She looks like she’s about to fight me on that, so I release her wrist and barrel on.

  “It’s dangerous this time of night. I know it’s not dark, but bears will be out, and you’ve had a few drinks.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Sober or not, the walk down the beach is rocky, plus the temperature drops and it’s cold out. Just stay the night.”

  “Stay here? With you?” She twists her hands together.

  “There are four bedrooms—you can pick whichever one you want.” But you’re more than welcome to sleep in my bed—with me. “Oh, and for the record, you can totally throw yourself at me whenever you want. I won’t mind in the least.”

  She ducks her head and huffs a laugh.

  “If you really want to go back to your place, I can call you a cab, but I’d like you to stay.”

  She tips her chin up, wide eyes meeting mine. “You would?”

  “Yeah, Lainey—in case you couldn’t tell, I’m way into you. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, though, so it’s totally up to you, but there’s plenty of space here.”

  Her cheeks flush yet again. “You really won’t mind if I spend the night?”

  “I’d love more time with you, talking or kissing. I’m good with either—or both.”

  She looks away, a shy smile flirting on her lips. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

  I try not to get too excited as I lead her upstairs to the second floor where all the bedrooms are. I’m pretty positive I’m not getting laid tonight. And I’m okay with that, but my dick seems to have missed the memo, considering how hard I still am.

  I pause at the first door. “This is my room.”

  Lainey peeks inside. “It’s so big.”

  I bite back a dirty reply. “Yeah, lots of
space, which is nice. Come on, I’ll show you the other rooms.” She follows me down the hall to the next bedroom. I push the door open and flick on the light. “It has a private bath and everything.”

  “Oh wow!” She slips past me and beelines it to the bed. Throwing herself on the plaid comforter, she rolls onto her back and spreads her arms out, making her shirt pull up, exposing an inch of smooth skin. “This is amazing.”

  I lean against the jamb and cross my arms over my chest, smiling, and bite the inside of my cheek to keep from saying things that will embarrass her or me. Such as, Imagine how amazing it would be if you were naked under me. “You want to see the other rooms before you make a decision?”

  “I don’t think I need to. This is perfect.” She props herself up on her elbows, stifling a yawn.

  “Why don’t I grab you something to sleep in? There should be a brand-new toothbrush in the bathroom—and anything else you might need.”

  “Okay. That would be great. Thank you, RJ.”

  “It’s no problem.”

  She slides off the bed and pads over to the bathroom. I head back to my room, unsurprised that she’ll be sleeping in the room next to mine instead of with me. And if I’m totally honest with myself, I’m actually kind of glad, even if other parts of my body aren’t in agreement. Now that I think about it, it’s nice to get to know someone before jumping into bed with them. Make a connection in more than just the physical sense.

  I think that’s probably what I’ve missed the most since I started playing professional hockey. Don’t get me wrong—I had my fair share of fun. And I tried to date a few women, but most of them thought they already knew me, so dates started on uneven footing. When I didn’t match the idea they had of me, it left a bitter taste in my mouth.

  Much like the lie I told her about my job. I should’ve just been straight with her, but then maybe she would look at me differently. I decide I’ll tell her the truth . . . when she’s a little more comfortable around me and the time feels right.

  Once I’m in my room, I rearrange my hard-on into a more comfortable position and give it a pat. “Patience, little man. This one will be worth the wait.” I roll my eyes at myself, feeling like an idiot for talking to my dick.

  I open my dresser, riffling through my T-shirts until I find a plain white one. I also grab a pair of boxer shorts for her, although I have a feeling they’ll be way too big. She’s still in the bathroom, so I leave the shirt and boxers on the bed and go back downstairs so I can get us each a glass of water, set up the coffee maker for the morning, and turn off all the lights.

  By the time I come back upstairs, she’s already changed into my T-shirt. Her back is to me, so I have a moment to observe her. The hem hits her mid-thigh, showing off her lean legs. She bends over and pulls the comforter back, exposing the flannel sheets.

  I clear my throat, and she jumps.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I brought you a glass of water.” I cross the room and set it on the nightstand.

  “Oh, thank you, that was thoughtful.”

  “You have everything you need?” I ask, wishing she weren’t so nervous around me and that our make-out session hadn’t brought with it an awkwardness to our interactions.

  “Yup. All set. And thank you for this.” She tugs at the sleeve, which almost reaches her elbow.

  My gaze drops and catches on her chest, where her nipples pop against the white fabric. I drag my eyes back up to her face. “No problem.” I have to clear the frog out of my throat. “I’m not sure if you’re an early riser, but the coffee is ready to go, so if you’re up before me, just make yourself at home.”

  “Okay.” She takes a tentative step forward and wraps her arms around me. I return the hug but try to keep everything below the waist from making contact with any part of her.

  I wait for her to let me go before I slip a single finger under her chin and press a chaste kiss to her minty, soft lips. “Night, Lainey.”

  “Night, RJ.”

  CHAPTER 7

  MORNING AFTER

  Lainey

  I sleep for almost ten blissful hours. I could probably lie in this bed forever, but it’s after ten, and I can hear RJ downstairs in the kitchen.

  I roll out of bed and pad across the floor to the bathroom. Once I get an eyeful of my hair, I decide it would be best to indulge in a shower before I go downstairs, especially since my cabin lacks hot water. While I enjoy the perks of a functioning hot-water tank, I replay that kiss—make-out session—from last night over and over in my head. I wonder if he’ll kiss me like that again before I leave. I hope so.

  I don’t have a choice but to put back on my clothes from yesterday once I’m done, but at least I’m clean and warm. I’m nervous all over again, unsure how not to be awkward as I head downstairs. I plan to thank him for being so hospitable, and then I’ll head back to my cabin. RJ is in the kitchen, pushing something around in a frying pan. He’s wearing a pair of low-slung sweatpants and a white T-shirt that pulls tight across his back. All my words disappear as I watch his muscles flex under the cotton. I would like to be that cotton.

  “Morning. How’d you sleep?” RJ gives me that smile that seems to make my brain short out for a moment.

  “I slept great, thank you. I’m sorry it’s so late. Those blinds keep out all the light, don’t they?” My sweater is hanging over the back of the chair, so I pick it up. “I should probably be going.”

  “Or you could stay for breakfast,” RJ suggests.

  “Oh, I couldn’t do that—I’ve already overstayed my welcome. I’m sure you have a busy day.” I pull the sweater over my head, even though I’m already hot. If I go now, maybe I’ll get that goodbye kiss I’m hoping for.

  RJ props a hip against the counter. “Actually, my day is wide open. I mean, there’s a chance I’ll go fishing at some point, but otherwise I’m totally free. Do you have plans?”

  “Uh, no, no plans.”

  “So you can stay? Have breakfast with me, and then maybe—if you’re feeling up to it—we could go to town, or whatever you want, really.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.” Staying means no goodbye kiss, but maybe we can spend some of the day with our lips against each other’s.

  “You’re not imposing at all, Lainey. I’m happy you’re here, and to be honest, I’m still looking for any excuse I can find to spend more time with you.”

  “Well, in that case, breakfast sounds great. What can I do to help?” And just like that, the awkwardness is gone.

  RJ pours me a coffee. “You drink this, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

  I add a little sugar and cream, stir, test, and repeat until it’s perfect. “This coffee is amazing.”

  “You sure you got the cream-to-sugar ratio right?” RJ asks.

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  He holds his thumb and finger close together. “Maybe a little.”

  “Too much cream and sugar ruins coffee. I err on the side of caution.” I poke his chest.

  RJ wraps his arms around me, pulling me up against him. It looks like that kiss I was hoping for is going to happen a lot sooner than I anticipated. He drops his head, and our lips meet and part, tongues stroking in a wet, velvet caress.

  I try not to get carried away like I did last night, but kissing RJ is like eating birthday cake. Once I start, I can’t seem to stop. I run my hands over his chest and grip the back of his neck to keep them from wandering too much. RJ’s hands move in the opposite direction, and he palms my bottom, pulling me closer.

  With his free hand, RJ shoves aside whatever’s on the counter and knocks the cutting board into the sink with a loud crash. We break apart for a second to check the damage, but everything seems fine.

  RJ turns his attention back to me, lifting me onto the counter. “God, I love your mouth.”

  “Every time you kiss me, I feel like I’ve just consumed a gallon of coffee spiked with alcohol,” I tell him.

  “Is that a
good or a bad thing?” He drags his lips along the column of my throat.

  “It’s good. I think.” I tip my head to the side. “Although both are highly addictive. Do you think people can get addicted to kissing? I suppose it’s possible, since people can be addicted to sex. I guess you can be addicted to anything, really.” Crap, I’m babbling.

  RJ chuckles and nibbles along the edge of my jaw. “I’m definitely developing an addiction to you.”

  I part my legs, and RJ steps into the space, groaning when his erection presses against me. I wrap my legs around his waist and hook my feet behind his back, sinking deeper into lust.

  Just as RJ slips his fingers under the hem of my shirt, the pungent aroma of something burning—not related to the fireplace—causes him to break the kiss. “Oh shit!” He reaches over to shut off the burner and move the frying pan, now filled with semicharred hash browns, to an unused burner. In his haste, he knocks over my coffee, which spills across the counter.

  I jump down before it can reach me, but it drips over the edge onto the floor, splattering our feet.

  RJ nabs a dishtowel to sop it up, cheeks flaming just like mine. “That went wrong fast.”

  “Maybe we should save the make-out sessions for after meals,” I suggest, breathless and a little embarrassed that once again I’ve gotten totally carried away. At least it’s not one-sided.

  “Probably a good idea.” He pushes the charred hash browns around in the pan. “So . . . bacon, eggs, and toast?”

  I pat his chest. “I’ll make the toast, and you take care of the eggs?”

  After breakfast RJ takes me for a ride in his boat. The only kind I’ve ever been in is a canoe, which tipped over, and yesterday I tried to put the one at my cabin into the water, but a family of squirrels was living in it, so that put an end to that.

  Being on open water makes me nervous, so RJ distracts me with more making out. My lips are probably going to be seriously chapped after today, so I’ll have to use some lip balm tonight to keep them from peeling.

  By the time we get back from our boating trip—I didn’t see one dolphin or whale, although I wasn’t paying much attention to anything besides RJ—it’s well past lunchtime. We make steak sandwiches with last night’s leftovers, and RJ suggests a trip into town. I have a list of things I need to pick up, like a new space heater, so I’m all for it.