Caught in the act of brushing mud off her boots yet again, Judith pulled a face. “These shoes cost me seven hundred dollars.”
“Take them off then.”
She frowned. “But I’m wearing tights.”
“So? Take them off, too.”
“The ground is muddy.”
Caleb, crouched near the ball, rose in a fluid movement. He crossed his arms and gave her a look. “Oh, come on, stop being such a girl, babycakes.”
“Hey, I am a girl.”
“Not when you’re kicking this ball, you’re not. You think I care about getting mud on my shoes in front of a crowd of half a million people?”
“No, but—”
“But nothing. All I care about is putting that ball between the posts.” His eyes glinted. “You want to know what I think about when I take a kick?”
Judith tried to remember all the player interviews Caleb had done where he was asked this very same question. “Don’t you use creative visualization or something?”
He smiled at her, but not the cocky smile he used when he was being evasive. This time it was the mischievous one that always made her heart beat fast. “That’s the story the media gets.”
“So that’s not what you do?”
“No. I pretend the ball is Dad’s last vodka bottle. Then I kick the bastard as hard as I can.”
Her heart expanded a little in her chest. Because she knew that was something he’d never tell anyone else. In fact, there were many things he’d told her tonight, things she guessed he hadn’t told anyone else. And she liked that. No, she loved that.
“So what are you going to do after you’ve stopped playing rugby? Throw it all in for medicine?” She said it lightly, hoping to keep that smile on his face.
But the smile faded. “No. If I’m too old for rugby, I’m way too old for med school.”
“What are you going to do then?”
“I’ve got this sports presenter gig. And you.” That grin flashed again, so false and fake she couldn’t understand how anyone couldn’t not see it was a mask. “Do I need anything else?”
“Of course you do,” she said quietly. “And I think you know that, too.”
He looked down at the grass, unease radiating off him, like it had under the goalposts when he’d talked about his father. And suddenly it became so painfully clear to her—underneath his arrogance, his confidence, his charm, he was uncomfortable with himself. Perhaps even unsure of himself. Her heart ached for him a little more, at the evidence of a vulnerability she’d caught glimpses of, but never really understood until then.
Perhaps she’d pushed too hard tonight and he would shut her out again. The thought hurt.
“You know what I wanted?” he said at last. “I wanted to make a difference. Save my mum. Save my dad.” Finally he lifted his head. “I spent so much time in the hospital and I saw those doctors saving people. And I wanted to do that too.”
“Yet you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t. Dad’s drinking got out of control and I had to take care of the old bastard. Then I missed too much school to get the grades for medicine.” He let out a breath. “Rugby was the only other thing I was good at, and I guess I was determined to show him I’d succeed despite his determination to drink himself into an early grave.”
“And you have succeeded. Wildly succeeded.”
“Yeah, I have. Now come on, sweet pea. Enough with the chat. Let’s kick that damn ball.”
He was right. Perhaps she needed to let this go. “Okay then,” she said a little thickly. “So what do I pretend the ball is?”
“Make it something you want to get rid of. And don’t worry about getting it perfect, don’t worry about aim, or technique. Just kick the hell out of it.”
What did she want to get rid of? Oh, she knew. Hurt. Anger. Responsibility. Having to be in charge and stay in control. Burdens her mother had left behind. Burdens Judith had always felt she had to pick up and carry. But not tonight.
Judith kicked off her shoes, not even bothering to stand them neatly together. Then she pulled her tights down and off and chucked them to the side, too. The grass beneath her feet was cool, slightly damp with evening dew.
Taking a few steps back, then the obligatory sidestep that he’d taught her, she stared at the small, oval ball, not even bothering to look at the goalposts this time. Her heart beat fast in her chest, the adrenaline singing in her veins. She was going to do this. She was bloody going to do this.
She gripped her dress in her hands, pulling it up slightly and out of the way.
Caleb said nothing, a tall, powerful figure with his arms crossed over his chest. Watching her.
She met his gaze briefly and grinned, a mad feeling of freedom suddenly coursing through her. He grinned back. “You can do this, babycakes. Give ’em hell.”
Judith began to run, lifted her foot, and booted the ball with everything she had. The hard leather met her bare skin and then the ball was firing up into the air, sailing straight over the goal posts. She stopped, panting, watching it fly as Caleb whistled.
Good-bye, hurt. Good-bye, anger. Good-bye, responsibility and control.
Good-bye, Mum.
“I did it!” she shouted, grinning like a lunatic. “I bloody did it!”
Caleb was already running toward her, a grin on his face to match her own. His arms wrapped around her, sweeping her up and spinning her around. “Judith Ashton, you’re bloody incredible.”
She laughed, looking down into his dark eyes and something burst inside her, driving the breath from her lungs. A powerful feeling. Something to do with him, with the look on his face, the look in his eyes. The feel of him holding her made her want to move away and yet at the same time remain in his arms and never leave.
Caleb reached up and pulled her head down for a kiss. Hot, intense, and joyful. Judith gave herself totally up to it, pushing aside the feeling, only wanting him, wanting this moment. She put her hands on his shoulders as he lowered her, sliding her down his body, making her shiver.
“Goddamn you’re amazing,” he murmured, his forehead resting against hers.
“You’re the amazing one,” she replied, pressing herself against him. And he was. Patient. Encouraging. Supportive. As vulnerable as she was. They had so much more in common than she’d ever expected. “You’re going to be incredible on TV, I just know it.” With all his articulate, show-stopping charm, and his rugby experience, he’d be fantastic.
“Of course,” he said, but the words sounded oddly flat.
“You don’t sound very certain.”
“I am. Going to be signing the contract tomorrow probably.”
“Why? You don’t want to do it, even I can see that.”
He turned away, running a hand through his black hair. “Because the exposure’s good. I need some way of keeping my image in the public eye once I stop playing.”
“That’s the only reason? For your image?”
His hand dropped. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. But…that’s not all you want, Cal. I know it isn’t.”
He swung round to her, the look in his eyes becoming intent. “Come on, darling. I’m sick of this conversation. Let’s go home.”
She still couldn’t let it go. “It’s not too late, Cal,” she said.
He stopped. “Not too late for what?”
“To make that difference. To care.”
A strange expression crossed his face, almost like regret. He reached out and cupped her cheek in one hand. “Yeah, honey. It is.” His thumb traced the line of her lower lip gently and she shivered, electricity whispering across her skin. “Now stop talking. I have better things for us to be doing.”
God, she wished—wished so much—that he could see himself the way she saw him. Could understand what an amazing guy he was. Although, perhaps now wasn’t the moment to push it. Perhaps it was better to just enjoy this connection for a while longer.
“Fine. Have it your way.” She looked
down, realizing for the first time that her toe was hurting where she’d kicked the ball and that there was mud on her legs and her dress. She reached down to try and brush it away, only to be stopped by Caleb’s fingers wrapping around her wrist.
“No,” he said softly. “Don’t. I like you mussed up.”
“I’m muddy.”
“I don’t care.” He released her wrist and picked up her shoes in one hand. “If you’re really worried about it, I’ll carry you back to the car so you don’t get any muddier.”
“Cal—” His name ended in a small shriek as he suddenly swept her up into his arms.
“Great,” Judith said once she’d recovered. “There go my feminist ideals.”
“Okay, fine. You can walk.”
She tightened her arms around his neck. “Did you hear me say I’d like to be put down? Uh no, I don’t think so.”
…
It took far too long to get back home. Far too long to get up into her apartment.
As they walked up the corridor to her front door, Caleb reached for her hand and she gave it to him, a tight, hot emotion gathering in her chest as his fingers curled around hers.
She fumbled a little with the keys while unlocking her door and once they were inside, he took them from her, drawing her close and kissing her with such heat she could barely stand it.
After a moment he wordlessly led her into the bedroom and kissed her again. A brush of his lips against hers. A gentle taste. Judith closed her eyes.
He moved behind her and she felt him undo the zip of her dress, the velvet falling down and away from her body. His hands stroked down her arms, down her sides, a light caress that brought goosebumps to her skin, that made her shiver with delicious anticipation. He touched her without hurry, as if he had all the time in the world, trailing his fingers down over her thighs then back up to her hips, one hand moving to unhook her bra. The fabric dropped away and she sighed as he stroked her spine, as his hands slid around and cupped her breasts. She whispered his name as his mouth moved to her neck, another tantalizing kiss pressed to the sensitive area between her shoulder and neck.
There was something careful in the way he touched her. Something reverent that made her heart contract. Made her ache.
His caressing hands moved to her hips, slid her panties down her thighs, and then she was stepping out of them, naked.
“I should have a shower,” she murmured. “My feet are all muddy.”
“I like the mud, but okay. We can do both.”
He took her hand, led her into the bathroom and turned on the water, and while it heated up she watched him take of his clothes. Because, damn, it was a good view.
“You’re beautiful,” she said, giving in to the need to touch him, tracing the black spirals of his tattoo with her finger. “I don’t think I could ever get sick of touching you.” And then remembered that she was supposed to keep her distance. Except she didn’t feel distant now. She felt so close to him. Too close.
Caleb said nothing to this, merely opening the door to the shower and ushering her inside. She should say something neutral, something to minimize her slip. But she couldn’t think of what, especially when he picked up the soap and began to run it over her skin. Judith shivered as he pulled her against him, her back against his chest, and closed her eyes. The slick feel of the soap and warmth of the water was so good, but it was the touch of his hands that undid her. Careful. Gentle. Taking care of her. She could get used to this.
She squeezed her eyelids shut, her heart large and full in her chest.
Hello, slippery slope.
Panic gripped her as the roller-coaster took a sharp turn down the one hill she really didn’t want it to go down. The one she’d been so afraid of the moment he’d held her in his arms at Christie and Joseph’s wedding. She began to tremble.
But then he pulled her more firmly against him, his big body surrounding her. “It’s okay, darling,” he murmured in her ear. “I’ve got you. I’m here for you.”
Her throat ached. Her heart. Her whole damn body ached. Because of course he was there for her. He’d always been there for her. And now she wanted to be there for him, too. Actually, she just wanted him full stop.
For always.
“Caleb,” she said in a choked voice, the emotion in her heart too big for her to keep inside. It flooded outward, taking away the doubt, drowning the last vestiges of her fear. The time for protecting herself was over. Now it was time to give him what she’d been holding back for so long.
Trust.
“What is it?” he asked. His soapy hands slid up from her hips to cup her breasts, thumbs circling her slick nipples, the pleasure arcing through her.
“I want…I need—” You. Forever. But the words got stuck in her throat and she couldn’t speak.
He moved a hand down over her stomach, between her thighs, stroking the hot, sensitive flesh between her legs. “It’s okay, beautiful,” he whispered. “I know what you need.”
Then he turned her in his arms and pushed her up against the tiled shower wall. Lifted her leg up around his hips, easing slow and deep inside her.
Judith groaned, feeling her body stretch to take him. He slid his arms around her, holding her close, his face pressed to her neck as the water streamed over them. And she put her arms around him, arching against the wall so they could get closer, so she could feel him deeper, surrounding her. Pleasure sparked through every nerve ending as he began to move and she didn’t want him to ever let go.
Her nails dug into his back and she pressed her forehead against the wet skin of his shoulders, shut her eyes, and struggled to keep the feeling contained, to not let even a hint of what she felt escape. Not now. Not here.
As his movements became faster, harder, the pleasure winding tighter and tighter, she couldn’t be quiet. She cried out as it became too much for her, as the climax crashed over her, rolling her over and over until all she could do was hold onto him and sob, hearing his groan of release as he followed.
Then his hands were moving gently in her wet hair, pushing it back from her face. “Are you okay, Jude?” Because he always asked if she was okay. And normally she always was.
Not this time. This time she was very far from okay.
Because this time she fallen down that slippery slope, so far down that there would be no climbing out of it ever again.
She loved Caleb Steele. She always had. She always would.
Chapter Eleven
Caleb woke the next morning with Judith in his arms and a feeling of rightness in his gut. A rightness that had everything to do with the woman who lay snuggled against him, her back to his chest, her body soft against his.
Something had changed between them last night. After the confidences shared on the rugby field and then the incendiary sex in the shower—hell the whole damn night—it felt as if the focus of their affair had shifted. Become something deeper. Something more.
Even more than it had been eight years earlier.
As if on cue, she stretched, the small undulation she gave making him catch his breath, then turned over in his arms. Her eyes were so damn blue and her mouth curved in a luscious smile. “Good morning, studmuffin,” she said sleepily.
His heart just about stopped. She was irresistible like this, all sleepy and teasing. Without her cool sophistication or sarcasm.
He moved a hand to cup her breast, lazily stroking her nipple, making her shudder in response. “I told you I didn’t like studmuffin, right?”
“So?” She arched under his hand. “I didn’t get any say in babycakes.”
“Good point. I guess I’ll have to put up with it then.” He bent his head to kiss her throat.
God, he loved the taste of her, the feel of her. Like he’d been starving for years and years, and only now was he finally getting the sustenance he needed.
He moved lower, taking her nipple into his mouth relishing her soft gasp in his ear. Her hand touched his shoulder, fingers trailing along his skin, str
oking him in an unhurried, undemanding caress. As if they had all the time in the world.
And maybe they did. Because why couldn’t this go on? Why couldn’t they keep on doing what they were doing?
Yes, he’d have filming to do in Australia for the TV job, but he’d have weekends back here. He was already considering basing himself in New Zealand to be with her. That would work, wouldn’t it?
Caleb lifted his head and caught her staring at him, the raw vulnerability stark in her eyes hitting him like a blow to the stomach.
You really think she deserves a casual “let’s see how far we can take this” affair?
He couldn’t breathe all of a sudden. Because no, she didn’t. She deserved far more than that.
Suddenly the words she’d said to him the day their affair had started came flooding back. The moment he’d realized just how badly he’d hurt her when he’d pushed her away all those years ago.
“I had someone. I had you.”
Cold began to seep through him. Wasn’t that what he was doing again? Taking what she offered him like a selfish bastard without even a thought to how this might affect her.
Taking just like Dad did.
The cold turned to ice. No, he didn’t want to be like his father. Didn’t want to be the one taking and taking, and giving nothing in return. Because he had nothing real to give her. Nothing of any substance. His capacity for care had been totally burned out by first his mother, then his father. He had nothing left for her.
“Hey,” she said softly. Her fingers brushed over his mouth. “Something wrong?”
“Just thinking coffee might be good,” he said, needing some excuse to get away so he could think about what he was doing.
Judith’s hand dropped away. “Oh, good plan.”
“Stay there. Don’t move.”
Not bothering to dress, Caleb walked out into the kitchen and began rummaging around for the coffee stuff. For the first time, it bothered him that he knew where it was, and that he knew where everything was in her apartment. It felt too intimate and he hadn’t planned for it to get there so quickly.
Talking Dirty With the Player Page 16
