Game, Set, Match (A Humorous Contemporary Romance) (Love Match)

by Malone, Nana

“Fuck, Izzy. Don’t you think if I could return on that side I would?” He tossed his racket and ran his hands through his hair. “I would love to chase down your returns and see what you’re really made of. But I can’t. I’m done, Izzy. Shit, at this rate, I’ll be lucky to get a job as a tennis pro.” When she still stared at him in confusion, he repeated himself. “I’m done. I’ll give it another month, but in all likelihood, I can’t play tennis anymore.”

  Izzy considered Jason for several moments before speaking. “Can we get back to the game now that you’re done feeling sorry for yourself?”

  His brow furrowed as he blinked several times. “Didn’t you hear me?”

  “Oh, I heard you.” She shrugged and added, “I just don’t believe in wallowing.”

  “Wha—”

  She splayed her hands to stop him. “Before we get into another full blown fight, let me ask you this. Since you’ve been back at physical therapy, what have you focused your brain power on?”

  “Getting better so I can get back to what I do. My livelihood. My life.”

  “Since when did you make tennis your whole life? My father was like that, and it nearly killed me. The need to be perfect. What everyone will think. It doesn’t matter.”

  “This from the woman who spent the last thirteen years hiding from a racket.”

  She cringed as the jibe hit. “You have a point.” She looked around at the scattered balls. “But at least I can face the demons, thanks to you. You plan on hiding behind your injury for much longer?”

  “This should be good.” He crossed his arms. “I guess you have a theory.”

  She shifted her weight from one foot to another. “Just this. You’re an amazing player. Outside of all this fame bullshit, you’re terrific. They used to call you the Tiger of tennis. When did you give up being that? If you’re still in recovery, then fair enough. But what I’m seeing in your eyes, every time I hit to your right, isn’t pain, at least not all pain. It’s fear. What do you plan to do about it?”

  He stared at her and wondered why she saw to his soul when everyone else skimmed the surface. Why, she, of all people, could see him so clearly. The answer wasn’t one he was ready to swallow. At least not yet. He picked up his racket, moving back to the baseline. Tossing her a ball, he called out, “Forty—thirty. Advantage, Connors.”

  ****

  “Are you sore?”

  Izzy’s eyes snapped from the page of her book to peer at Jason in the balcony doorway. “A little. I’m sure it’ll be worse tomorrow.”

  “I can guarantee it. You want a massage?”

  She barked out a laugh. “Is that a tried and true Jason Cartwright seduction tactic?”

  He grimaced. “Would you hold it against me if I said yes?”

  “Well, at least you’re honest. I’m choosing to look at it as flattery.”

  “I owe you a thank you.”

  “Yeah well, I owe you an apology. I’ve been a royal bitch.”

  “I’ve seen worse.

  She put her book on her lap and eyed him up and down. “How’s the knee?” She watched as he rotated his leg.

  “Truth? I’m a little sore, but I feel great. First time anybody’s forced me to use my knee in weeks.”

  “Everyone let you get away with feeling sorry for yourself, huh?”

  He rubbed his jaw. “Everyone except you.”

  She grinned. “Glad to be of service.” She sobered and added, “You’re better than that, Jason. You never used to let anyone dictate to you what you could and couldn’t do. You shouldn’t start now.”

  “I think I’ve had enough self-reflection for one night.” He eased himself onto a stool. “What prompted you to play today?”

  Her heart beat a rapid beat in her chest as she considered her answer. “I just needed to hit a few.” At his raised eyebrow she sighed. “I’ve been like a pressure cooker for years. Today, my little whistle sang.”

  “When I gave you the racket earlier, you looked scared. What changed?”

  She figured she might as well tell him the truth. She’d forced honesty out of him. He deserved a little reciprocation. “I realized today I’ve been hiding most of my life. Make that all of my life. I’m carrying around a lot of resentment about it.”

  “This have to do with your dad?”

  “The day he died, I had a fight with him. I was pitching a fit because I was hurt and didn’t want to play. I’ve never lost my temper like that before. I ended up playing. But as I did, Dad had a heart attack in the stands.”

  “Shit, I’m sorry, Izzy.”

  “He died that night. I’ve carried that blame around for years. Until today.”

  “His death wasn’t your fault.”

  She shrugged. “Yeah, I know. I’ve always known. Didn’t stop the guilt. Afterward, I lost it. I couldn’t function for weeks. The press was there, the whole team saw it, saw my meltdown.”

  “That’s why the press makes you so crazy now?”

  She nodded. “Once I sold some photos, I spent years praying no one would put the pieces together and ask questions.”

  “Now I get the name Z Con.”

  “It’s silly, I know. But once I hired Simon, he thought it would be a great way to build in anonymity and buzz all at once. Great marketing he called it.”

  Arms crossed over his chest, he leaned back on the stool. “While we’re on the subject, what in the world were you thinking going out with that douche bag?”

  She dropped her head in her hands to stifle the giggle and scrubbed her hands over her face. “I know. We only went out a few times. Going out with him just seemed like a good idea at the time. You know I broke up with him, and he refused?”

  “Smart guy. I wouldn’t let you go either.”

  Not sure how to take the blatant flirting, Izzy changed the subject. “You got a phone call earlier, is everything okay?”

  Faint color tinged his cheeks. “Why would you think anything’s wrong?”

  “Your energy. You’re still tense around the mouth. If it’s none of my business, just tell m—”

  Mischief hugged his words. “You spend a lot of time staring at my lips?”

  Shit. “Yes. I mean no. I mean, with the photo shoots, I—uh, in the past few weeks, I’ve spent a lot of time looking at you, capturing your moods etc.” She was glad she’d put on long sleeves before coming out onto the deck. Despite the warmth of his embrace, cool air danced across her skin, and her hairs rose in response. What were gentle summer breezes in Pasadena were magnified tenfold at the beach. She moved from the settee to the railing and stared up at the stars.

  “No need to worry about me. It was just something I had to take care of.”

  “Sorry for prying. My first thought when someone has a problem is how I can fix it. What’s the solution?” She shrugged and turned back to look at the surf. “I know that’s a typical male response. Most women want to talk it out. Not me. I prefer action, something solid.”

  “You like to take care of things. Nothing wrong with that. But who takes care of St. Izzy?” As he asked the soft question, he moved behind her to envelop her in his masculine warmth.

  Warm liquid pleasure flowed through her muscles and eased her tired joints into a languorous state. You can take care of St. Izzy anytime. Pulling the air brake on her runaway train of thought, Izzy cleared her throat and tried to think clearly.

  She tried for cheery. Cheery meant she could pretend he didn’t have an effect on her. “Whatever’s got you bummed, maybe I have a solution. And if not a solution, I have a shovel or two.”

  “You would really help me move a body?” His sexy smile was evident in his voice.

  “Izzy Connors, problem solver at your service.” With every loosened muscle, she tried not to moan with the pleasure zinging over her synapses. “Picture the marketing logo, me with a shovel and a grin.”

  His thumb traced circular patterns along the column of her neck and paused at the nape of her hair. If she’d been in the mood to lie to h
erself, she would pretend the shiver was a result of the chill, not the pleasure patterns Jason’s hands wove on her neck and shoulders.

  “I can see the campaign now. I’ll keep you in my rolodex for the paparazzi.”

  “I never really thought about how all the trappings of fame must affect you. They’re a major pain in the ass huh? I can’t even imagine it.”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to imagine it.”

  She turned to face him. “It doesn’t ever get easier, does it? The people hiding in the bushes, coming up to you during dinner. I mean a normal life is hard enough without cameras following you everywhere.”

  Even though she’d turned to face him, he didn’t release her. He drew nearer, warming and mingling the air they breathed. “The whole world watches and waits for you to screw up. It’s a lot of pressure.”

  Gravel weighed his voice down. “You want to save me from the evil paparazzi, St. Izzy?”

  Her skin prickled at his suggestive smile, she muttered, “Something tells me you don’t need saving.”

  His hands slid from their position on her shoulders, smoothing out the curves of her back and coming to rest in the dimples of her lower back, just before no man’s land. By reflex or by design, his hands pulled her in and steadied her more firmly against his wall of a chest.

  Hard solid planes of muscle surrounded her, enveloped her. He drowned all reason, and every excuse she had for not taking what she wanted melted away.

  She told herself she should make some glib comment to dissipate the tension. She should remove herself from the embrace before she made an idiot of herself. She should ask him to let her go and she’d be safe, happy, sheltered.

  She tipped her head up and brushed his lips with hers. For the second time in her life, Izzy was lost.

  At first, he seemed content to let her take the lead. He made no move to take the kiss deeper, allowed her to explore at her own pace. Nevertheless, when she leaned in, wrapped her arms around his neck and brushed her breasts against him, his calloused hands tightened at her waist as he pulled her core against his heat. Angling his head, his tongue probed her parted lips, demanding something deeper, more primal.

  Izzy didn’t recognize the mewling sound coming from her own throat, but she recognized the growl in Jason’s throat for what it was. Desire. Possession.

  Need swirled. Unable to sate the clawing heat burning at her core, she tried to get closer.

  He was the one to break the kiss. Harsh rapid breaths poured out of him. “Damn, Izzy. You’re killing me.”

  Izzy licked a patch of skin on his neck and savored the salty taste of him. “Mmm—hmm…”

  For every kiss she planted along his neck and collar bone, he responded by squeezing his large hands around her ample bottom. “Sweetheart, the last thing I want to do is stop you, but maybe we should go—”

  She ignored his words and rubbed herself against the thick pulsing heat in his jeans. Feeling bold, she removed one arm from around his neck, bringing her hand around between them, encircling his cock with her fingers.

  A stream of creative four letter words streamed out of Jason’s mouth as his right hand abandoned its post on her ass to move to her breast, thumb deftly stroking her nipple though her blouse.

  “Baby, we should really go inside, we don’t even have to go upstairs, I have a spare bedroom—ah, honey, you keep that up, and I’m not going to last very—ah shit…”

  Unable to shake the need for him, and missing the delicious tingling sensation from his hand on her breast, she resisted his attempts to tug her inside.

  He placed both hands on either side of her face, he held her gaze for several seconds. “You’re sure?”

  At her nod, he bent his head, his lips ravaged hers in what she could only call a kiss of promise. His tongue tasted and teased, explored just past her lips and withdrew until she knew he meant to drive her mad.

  Hands still on her face, he urged her backwards until her back hit the back of the railing.

  Lifting his lips off hers, he smiled. “Hold tight, sweetheart.”

  Following directions, she wound her arms around him. His large hands took hold of her bottom, and he picked her up, urging her legs around his waist. He placed her on the railing, and his hands went to her breasts, never breaking the connection of their lips.

  Deft fingers made quick work of the front clasp on her bra. He unhooked it, but didn’t bother to take it off. Izzy grasped his thick hair in attempt to get him to deepen the kiss, but he wouldn’t let her take control. He took his time and tasted.

  Fire roared deep inside her, and she wondered how she could have gone almost her whole adult life and never felt like this before. Both his hands took a slow path from her flat belly and inched up to breasts that ripened for him, full and heavy. His thumbs traced the undersides of her breasts wrenching a gasp from her throat.

  He clasped his large hand over her breast and gently kneaded. Delicious sensations zinged through every cell and traveled at rapid speed to the core of her femininity. “Oh God, Jason.”

  He nipped her bottom lip to silence her. “Easy baby, we don’t want to wake Nick.” Removing his hands, he once again lifted her in his arms. When he put her down again, they were secluded further back on the balcony. From there, no curious onlookers on the trails could see them. If Nick came downstairs for anything, he couldn’t see them from the sliding door. They were alone, secluded in the shadows.

  After settling her back down, his hands flew to the buttons of her top. Undone, he opened the front panels exposing her breasts to moonlight and air.

  “Good God, you’re beautiful.”

  Urged on by his mumbled love words and the rhythmic pulsing of her inner core, Izzy tugged at the hem of his polo shirt, pulling it past his already tousled blond locks. Bronzed muscles gleamed under the moonlight.

  For a moment, she could only stare at the broad shoulders before her, not believing she was actually there, in Jason’s arms about to live out every fantasy she’d ever had.

  He dipped his head, and laved the tip of her right breast. When she gasped his name, he moved to the other one, paying them equal homage.

  Scoring her hands on his back, Izzy rode the climbing peak of pleasure, praying, begging it wouldn’t stop.

  Jason traced kisses from her breast, up the column of her throat before reclaiming her lips for his own, his strong hands gripped the hem of her skirt, shifting the folds of fabric until they hit mid-thigh. While the fabric stopped its ascent, his hands didn’t slow theirs. Calloused fingers traced a pattern over her inner thighs until they reached the satin of her panties.

  He lifted his head from hers, his eyes darkened to almost black. “Do you want me to stop?”

  Surprised, Izzy blinked several times. “No. God—don’t—stop… “

  A slow smile spread across his face as he continued to hold her gaze. His thumbs traced a pattern at the edge of her panties. Unhurried and languorous. As if he had all the time in the world. He held her gaze as his thumbs hooked under the elastic and came into contact with her slick folds.

  Izzy’s eyes slammed shut upon his first stroke, before opening wide again. “Mmm, Jason, please—I…”

  “So—wet…”

  “Jason—I—need—”

  “More…”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jason hooked a thumb under the band of her silken panties and slid them down to gain better access to Izzy’s silken folds. God, she was pretty, every inch of her.

  He gritted his teeth and fought for control. Every instinct begged him to unbutton his jeans and bury himself to the hilt. With every murmur and mew from her, his blood surged and throbbed through lust-thickened veins.

  “Jason…”

  He nipped at her full bottom lip and relished in the sweet taste of her. “Mmmm?”

  “I want—”

  Smiling, he slid a finger into her tight channel. “I think I know what you want…”

  A long moan escaped from her
throat, and her tight core continued to slicken around his finger. Shit. Any more of this, and he’d lose control and slide himself inside of her before she was fully ready for him. He’d waited fifteen years to have her. He could wait another few minutes. Or, at least until she crashed over the peak she flirted with for the past several minutes.

  “Baby, you feel so good.” With every lick and love bite, her body responded as if she’d been made for him. He traced a path from her neck to a peaking chocolate-covered nipple. He rubbed a thumb across the peak and watched, fascinated, as the tiny nub hardened with arousal.

  “Mmm.” He leaned over her and moistened the smooth tip with his tongue. Sweet and rich, he couldn’t get enough. He nuzzled, tasted, and suckled. Moving over to the other peak, he laved and paid worship at the ripe mounds. He’d fantasized about the taste of her for so long. Unable to wait any longer, he paused at her breast, unable to move away.

  He struggled for control against the painful surge of blood in his cock, he ignored the screaming voice in his head. Rush, Hurry, Inside. Inside her now!

  He anchored her thighs to the rail and kneeled before his promised land. Her soft petals beckoned him. As he darted his tongue to trace over her pleasure center, her hips rose and bucked under him.

  He gripped her tighter, kissing the inside of her thigh. The low growl in his throat restricted his breathing. “Gorgeous, you taste incredible.” He wasted no time acquainting himself with every hidden nook and fold. His tongue traced a path to her clit and only paused to pay homage with light circular motions. He stopped just short of direct simulation.

  “Jason, don’t tease me!”

  He chuckled when she tugged his hair and pulled him closer to her, urging him on. On his upstroke, his tongue traveled the length of her silken folds, flattening against her clit, only pausing to tease the bundle of nerves.

  On the down stroke, he explored the cave of her femininity as far as he could go, savoring the flavor of her, which beckoned him to taste, to explore, to brand. He repeated the routine, and only stopped to alter it when he slid a finger into her slick channel, mimicking the ancient rhythm his dick screamed to partake in.