Power Play (Portland Storm Book 16)

by Catherine Gayle

  “Oh.” I felt a massive blush staining my cheeks.

  “It has nothing to do you or me not wanting you, baby doll. I can promise, I want to be with you.”

  The way he said it made me believe him, too. Or at least it made me want to believe him, which might as well be the same thing.

  He smiled in a way that made me tingle all over despite the stinging behind my eyes. “It’s just too much alcohol, sweetheart,” he said. “Once I sleep it off, everything’ll be just fine.”

  I nodded, because it felt as if he was waiting for some sort of response from me, and that was all I was capable of without running the risk of starting a fresh flood of tears. Because there were still so many niggling doubts running through my head.

  What if he was just saying these things to appease me and I really didn’t turn him on?

  What if, once he was sober, he realized he’d made a huge mistake in marrying me?

  What if he wanted to undo it before we’d gone too far?

  He reached up a hand and brushed my tears away with the pad of his thumb—such a sweet thing to do that I wanted to lean in for more of his touch. For whatever reason, I held myself back.

  But he didn’t.

  He cupped my cheeks in his palms, using both thumbs to wipe up the mess I was making of myself, and he kissed me again. “Shh, sweetheart. I can still take care of you.”

  Take care of me? So now he thought I needed to be taken care of. But then, why shouldn’t he think that? I’d come to a foreign country to marry a man I hadn’t ever met before, with no backup plan in place and no way to get out of it when things headed south. Only a simpleminded fool would do something like that. Of course, he thought I needed someone to look after me.

  “I’m sorry I’m being so much trouble for you,” I mumbled.

  Riley cocked up a brow and gave me a sexy grin. “Going down on you isn’t going to cause me any trouble, sugar,” he said. “Promise.”

  Going down on me? I’d read enough romance novels in my day to know what that meant, but now I couldn’t decide how to react. Reading about it in a book was one thing; experiencing it in real life was something else entirely.

  But then, before I could get embarrassed about the implications, he was kissing me again, and all thought fled straight out of my head. He leaned over me as he pressed me back against the mattress, one of his hands fisting in my hair as he fused his lips to mine.

  In no time, I forgot all about my nerves, focusing instead on sensation: the rough texture of his fingers as he gently brushed over the most sensitive bits of my skin; the clean, masculine scent of his body mixed with the ocean air that filtered through the open windows; the gratifying weight of him pressing down on me when he climbed over me; the firm pressure of his hands on my thighs when he settled himself between them.

  By the time he’d kissed a path down my chest and stomach and was lowering his head between my thighs, I was so caught up in experiencing all these new sensations that I forgot I was supposed to be nervous. In fact, I forgot about absolutely everything other than feeling and experiencing. His lips pressed against me. Then his tongue darted out and stroked me. With a determined finger, Riley caressed my most private place, and I shivered.

  I melted back against the sheets, my muscles giving out entirely and my bones turning to mush. At the same time, a sigh made up of relief and hunger in equal measure fell from my lips: relief because this was so much closer to what happened in the books I’d always read than it was to what I’d feared; hunger because no one had ever created such a sensation within me before.

  And now, I was waxing poetic, just like all of those romance novels. I was well and truly a goner.

  I pressed my head back against the mattress, fisting my hands in the sheets while I tried to give in to the experience. But I couldn’t get out of my head. No matter how good Riley was making me feel, my brain kept churning, a thousand thoughts racing through my head in every moment.

  Was he enjoying this?

  He couldn’t be, could he? Surely not.

  But the sounds he was making certainly made it seem as if he was having a good time. And he had said it wouldn’t be a problem for him.

  But not being a problem wasn’t the same thing as enjoying what he was doing.

  And—goodness—maybe I should have taken a shower first.

  Out of instinct, I shifted, trying to get myself away from Riley’s attentions. Then I wished I hadn’t, because it seemed really ungrateful of me, and that was the last thing I wanted him to think.

  He propped himself up on his elbows and lifted his head, raising a brow. “Not working for you tonight, baby doll?”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, once again feeling a surge of tears stinging my eyes and threatening release. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “Hey,” he said, sliding up the mattress until he was lounging beside me, propped up on an elbow. With his other hand, he brushed my hair away from my eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Nothing. You’ve been through a lot tonight, that’s all.”

  If he really thought that, it served as further proof that he didn’t know me in the slightest. Everything was wrong with me. That was the problem. Always had been. It was why I’d never been able to stay with a foster family for longer than a year, why I’d never held down a job for very long…

  How could it be anything but me?

  I shrugged, slinking away from his touch.

  “Come on, baby doll. Look at me,” Riley said, nudging my chin until I finally gave up the fight and met his eyes. His expression was so dark and serious and filled with concern.

  I hated the thought that my failure was the cause of his worry. Riley had more than enough to worry about without adding me to the mix. I never should have agreed to any of this, even if he was trying to be my knight in shining armor.

  The truth was, fairy tales were only stories told to children. In the real world, there was no such thing as a knight rushing in to save the day. And maybe romance novels weren’t very realistic, either, come to think of it. After all, my first foray into seeking my happy ever after was more of a nightmare than anything else, so why should I hope for anything better with my second effort? Especially considering the fact that Riley and I didn’t know each other at all.

  “I think maybe we’ve made a huge mistake,” I mumbled.

  He cocked a grin at me that made my knees weak. Good thing I was lying down.

  “Maybe we did,” he said. “It’s too soon to tell for sure, though, isn’t it? And I’ve never been one to give up too early. Dogged determination is kind of my hallmark. That’s how I ended up in the NHL, even when my family did everything they could to hold me back. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t just give up before things get too serious?” Not that I had any idea what I’d do if he realized he’d made the biggest mistake of his life in marrying me. I was still all alone in a foreign country with no way to get home—wherever home might be now.

  But Riley leaned over me again and kissed me, fisting his hands in my hair and sliding his tongue between my lips. Now there was a new taste mixed with the tequila, which could only be my own musk. He smiled down at me when he broke away, and a tiny piece of my heart chipped off and melted.

  “Too late for that,” he said. “It’s already too serious.”

  I feared he might be right about that.

  Before I could fall prey to my own worries once again, Riley shifted around on the bed, tugging me up with him and settling me next to his side under the sheet.

  “Let’s get some shut-eye,” he said, sounding like he was halfway asleep already. “Tomorrow’s a new day. We can figure it all out then.”

  Despite all my reservations, somehow I found myself curling up next to him. He kept one arm around me, holding me close in a way I couldn’t remember ever experiencing with anyone else.

  I couldn’t relax, though. I was naked, in bed with a very large, ve
ry naked man—one I didn’t really know at all—but he was my husband. I doubted I would ever get to sleep.

  Riley shifted us both around a bit until my head rested on his chest, rising and falling with each breath he took. “Relax, baby doll,” he murmured. He kneaded my shoulder with a strong hand. “Get some sleep.”

  Relax. Right.

  Within a few short minutes, he started to snore ever so lightly.

  If only I could shut off my brain. Maybe then I’d be able to fall asleep.

  Too bad that wasn’t a skill I’d ever mastered. I was much better at keeping myself awake for hours on end, worrying over every little thing and reliving all the tiny mistakes I’d made in my life while trying to dream up what would have been a better path to take.

  But at least one of us could sleep.

  SOMEHOW, I DID eventually fall asleep. Maybe it was the way the seductive heat of Riley’s body surrounded me like a warm blanket, or maybe the general temperature in Cabo drew me under. Either way, I was happy to get a bit of shut-eye.

  The sun was just starting to rise over the ocean when my slumber came to a sleepy end. The crashing sound of the waves breaking against the shoreline in the distance melded with the cries of seagulls. But the sounds of the surrounding world weren’t what woke me; it was the way Riley had rolled over, draping a heavy arm and a powerful leg across me, pinning me to the bed with his incredible specimen of a body.

  I let out an undignified grunt of protest, mainly because his limbs were an awful lot more substantial than they appeared to be. Everyone always said muscle weighed more than fat. Apparently, the proverbial everyone was right, because Riley’s limbs must each weigh as much as I did.

  When my eyes fluttered open, I found him staring down at me, apparently studying every tiny detail about me.

  “Your eyelashes are blond,” he said, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

  “You’re heavy,” I replied. As soon as I realized what I’d said, I hated how stupid and petty it made me seem. And that it sounded like a complaint. Wasn’t that obnoxious of me, to start griping first thing in the morning? He wouldn’t want to stay married to me for long if I always sounded so ungrateful.

  Somehow, his smile only intensified, though. “I’ve only got an arm and a leg over you,” he pointed out. “Just you wait.”

  I didn’t know how he managed it, but the way he said it made it sound like a promise, not a threat, like I ought to enjoy the sensation of his body crushing me to the bed. To my surprise, I did enjoy it after a few moments—much more than I would ever have expected. He shifted until he was halfway on top of me, and I found myself wanting his body to be fully over me.

  I bit my lower lip, but then I wished I hadn’t, because his gaze dropped to my mouth.

  He dropped his head down to mine and took my lip between his teeth, and I sucked in a startled breath.

  But, to my surprise, it didn’t hurt where he’d nipped me. The touch of his teeth was exceedingly gentle. It was just enough to impel me to open my lips, and then he slipped his tongue past my teeth to glide alongside my own.

  My moan melded with his accompanying groan. He shifted until he was hovering over me completely, holding himself above me with his weight on the arms braced on either side of my body. A gentle nudge of his knee had me opening my legs for him to settle between them. His hips pressed me down into the mattress, making it perfectly clear just exactly how heavy he was. But it was a pleasant sensation, actually, his weight crushing me to the bedding. He grounded me and kept me from floating off into the marshmallow clouds of my imaginings.

  Even with his massive size, Riley was keeping some of his weight off me by propping himself up on his elbows. In that position, he was able to look down at me, a wicked grin snaking across his features that made me tingle and shiver all over. “Somehow, you’re even prettier when I’m sober,” he said, the fingers of one hand twisting in my hair. Then he smiled and caught his lower lip between his teeth in an adorable, sexy move. “No beer goggle effect. Or tequila goggles, I guess.”

  I laughed, even though I didn’t quite follow. Probably another example of how sheltered I’d been my whole life, but oh well. I couldn’t change the past, and I still had a pretty good idea of what he meant. My belly trembled at his praise before I felt a strange tugging sensation deep inside me.

  “Somehow, you’re even bigger in the daylight,” I murmured. Then I wished I hadn’t said anything, because it made me sound feeble and kind of ridiculous, for already the second time in the span of five minutes. Granted, he would probably realize those things about me sooner or later, but a girl could hope for later, couldn’t she?

  The hint of a grin crossed his features and made the corners of his eyes crinkle with silent laughter. “No more tequila dick. Is that a problem for you?”

  My cheeks heated to an astronomical degree. “Well, I…” couldn’t come up with a response that wouldn’t make me sound simple and naïve, so maybe it was better not to say anything at all. I snapped my mouth closed.

  Lucky for me, Riley didn’t seem to require an answer. He lowered his head to meet me, his lips slanting over mine in a gentle, irresistible tease. My heart fluttered against my ribs at the tenderness of his touch.

  With a great deal more boldness than I usually possessed, I reached up to spread my fingers through Riley’s thick tangle of hair. He groaned, wrapping his arms around my waist and rolling over onto his back, dragging me with him until I was practically lying on top of him.

  I steadied myself by putting my hands on his chest. Then I shivered, because oh my heck, this man had so many muscles everywhere, I just plain didn’t know how to process it. The ones beneath my hands flexed when he brushed his fingers through my hair, angled my head, and drew me down for another earth-shattering kiss.

  He lowered his hands to my shoulders, then spread them along my back, drawing them along the length of my body until he reached my bottom. With a gentle but firm pressure, he ground me against him. That put pressure on my bladder, which I suddenly realized was very full, nearly to the point of bursting. I figured I should stop and go to the bathroom before we got in too deep with what we were doing, but I felt too shy and embarrassed to say anything about it. But if I didn’t, wouldn’t that be worse? Peeing all over my new husband while he was trying to get me into sex didn’t sound like the best plan.

  I tried to pry myself away from his grip, but he only held on tighter.

  “I need to use the bathroom first,” I explained, feeling a different sort of heat rush to my cheeks. The idea of talking about what we were getting ready to do was embarrassing enough, but adding a discussion of bodily functions to the mix was downright mortifying. I didn’t know if I would ever get over the humiliation.

  “After, baby doll. It’s better to do that after.”

  “After?” I wasn’t sure I could hold it long enough for that. Especially if, like last night, I couldn’t reach a climax and he kept trying to get me there for a long time.

  “After,” Riley repeated adamantly. “Didn’t they teach you that when you had sex education in school?”

  “I don’t remember having sex education in school.” In all honesty, I’d never paid too much attention in many of my classes. I’d always performed well enough, but I’d rarely retained anything longer than necessary to pass my exams. The truth was, I’d had so many different teachers and gone to so many different schools that, in many ways, I’d been a student who’d slipped through the cracks. The only sex education I’d had was what I’d learned in books. Fiction books, for that matter, so there was no telling how much truth could be found within their pages.

  But Riley didn’t look at me as though he pitied me or wanted to laugh at my ignorance. He just kissed the tip of my nose. “Every woman I’ve ever been with has rushed to go pee after we finished. Something about it helping to prevent UTIs.”

  “Oh,” I replied, for lack of anything else coming to mind. I nodded, as if it made perfect sense to me. Th
is was just one more thing to prove how stupid and sheltered I really had been all this time. I knew nothing about the real world, a fact that had become abundantly clear over the past twenty-four hours.

  But then he was kissing me again and touching me again, his hands and lips and tongue going all over my body, and it didn’t take long before I forgot all about my complaints.

  Riley moved one hand between my legs and slipped two fingers inside me like he had last night, his thumb rubbing tiny circles over the spot he’d given so much attention with his tongue. I let out a whimpering sort of sound. It came of its own accord, completely against my will, but he didn’t seem to mind in the least.

  “Fuck, baby,” he murmured against my lips. “You’re so wet.”

  “That’s good?”

  I knew it was, of course. Somewhere in the deepest recesses of my brain, I was aware of some of the basics involved with sex, thanks again to all the romance novels I’d read over the years. But I still felt the need for Riley’s reassurance.

  “That’s very good,” he assured me, laughing gently and moving both hands to rest on my hips again, as though to keep me from flying off his lap. He was practically staring through me, he was looking at me so intensely.

  This would be such a joke if it weren’t completely real. I was so naïve. So stinking sheltered from life. I realized that must seem like a contradiction, since I’d gone from foster home to foster home and had never had any sense of permanence, but it was the truth. The people looking out for me through my childhood had possibly done too good a job of protecting me from the realities of the world.

  “You should laugh,” I said.

  “I’m not laughing at you.”

  “Then what are you laughing at?” I couldn’t stop myself from sounding disgruntled.

  “I’m laughing because you’re such a refreshing change for me.” Riley pushed back a bit so he could look fully in my eyes. “Everything’s new and different and exciting for you. You don’t take anything for granted.”