Southern Heat (Game On Book 2)

by Parker Kincade

  Devon shrugged. “I was distracted. Ty’s injured.”

  “Injured?” Gabriella turned concerned eyes on him.

  Devon was due that ass-kicking after all.

  Tyler laughed, waving off Devon’s claim. “It’s nothing.”

  He shared a moment of silent communication with Devon.

  Not another word about my shoulder, butt wad.

  Okay, okay. My bad. Chill, bro.

  “Come sit for a minute.” Tyler patted the stool next to his at the table they’d commandeered. He was dying for another whiff of her sweet, slightly flowery scent.

  Gabriella set her cue aside. She climbed onto the stool and turned to face him. “So. What now?” A flush crept into her cheeks, but she held his gaze.

  He leaned on his elbow, bringing their faces closer together. Her lips parted, as though she expected him to kiss her. So tempting, but he held back. For now. There were a few things they needed to be clear about before the evening continued. Starting with, “How about we blow this place for somewhere more private?”

  Her gaze darted toward Devon. “How private are we talking?”

  Ah. She’d considered the idea they might both want her. He was sure Devon would be on board with a little three-way action, but Tyler wasn’t. Not tonight. Not with this woman. She did something to him. Sparked his interest. Made him ache. Somehow he knew she’d give him a run for his money. Take him out of his head for a little while, or some shit. Whatever it was, he liked the way it felt. It’d been awhile since he had anything to be excited about.

  Devon could find his own woman. This one was his.

  “Did I lose you somewhere?”

  “Sorry. What were you saying?” Tyler traced his fingers over her wrist. He slipped his thumb around to caress the delicate underside, smiling as goosebumps erupted on her forearm.

  A glance proved her nipples were hard. Damn if he didn’t want to feel them between his fingers.

  “I—” Gabriella crossed her legs, wincing as she bumped her knee against the table. A stuttered breath escaped her lips as he trailed his fingers across the back of her hand. Soft, but not dainty. As though she spent as many hours working with her hands as she did seeing to their care. It made him curious as to what she did for a living. Made him want to test her grip around his cock.

  She cleared her throat. “I said—”

  Devon cut her off. “Hey, Gabby?”

  She was slow to look away. Tyler felt the loss deep in his gut. He kept touching her, tracing her fingers as she turned to Devon.

  “Yeah?”

  Devon motioned to her leg. “Did you know your knee is bleeding?”

  3

  Gabriella excused herself and made her way down the darkened hallway to the ladies room. Once inside, she grabbed a paper towel from the wall-mounted dispenser. Cranking the faucet, she let the cold water run for a second before shoving the towel under the stream.

  She squeezed the excess water from the towel. Instead of cleaning the scratch on her knee, she pressed the cool cloth to her cheek. She’d need an industrial-sized freezer to chill the arousal pumping through her body, but she’d take what she could get.

  Ty and his flirty smiles, casual touches, and subtle innuendos. Good lord. Her body had responded like a firecracker whose fuse had ran out.

  He wanted her. The thought made her giddy. The feeling made her head spin.

  She’d bet he was the kind of man who knew his way around a woman’s body. Probably had lots of experience. Could she give him what he wanted? Better yet, would he please her, or would the encounter leave her feeling as cheap and used as she’d felt the day Roger had fucked her and walked out the door?

  Her heart couldn’t take another blow like that. No matter how casual the sex might be, Gabriella wasn’t naive enough to believe her heart, her emotions, would be on total lockdown.

  She felt too strongly, a fact her mother had warned made her more vulnerable to heartache. Too passionate—that’s what her father called her. Cecelia, her older sister, dubbed her an over-achiever.

  If not doing things half-assed made her a vulnerable, passionate, over-achiever, then she’d have to live with that. Because when Gabriella set her mind to something, she went all in. If it wasn’t worth doing with everything she had, why bother?

  Instinct told her Ty was definitely worth doing. When he looked at her with those steel-blue eyes, her body melted in all the right places. She trusted her instinct when it came to her work. The breakup with Roger had given her pause to trust it where her personal life was concerned. That ended tonight.

  Gabriella glanced down at her knee. Happy for a distraction that didn’t involve the handsome man waiting for her, Gabriella swung her sandaled foot up to the counter to get a better look.

  Two thin rows of semi-dried blood decorated her knee. With focused precision, she went to work. Once she had the blood cleaned off, she dabbed the tiny pieces of abraded skin to make sure the scrape wouldn’t start up again. Satisfied the bleeding had stopped, she tossed the paper towel into the trash.

  Gabriella turned to check her reflection in the mirror. The light covering of makeup she’d applied earlier was mostly intact. With a quick touch-up of lip gloss, she deemed herself ready. Ready for what, she still didn’t know.

  She couldn’t hide in the ladies room for the rest of the night. She’d been hiding for far too long.

  No more. She and Ty had chemistry. She was willing to play it out. She deserved the chance to be touched. To be desired.

  To be loved.

  She shut down the last thought before it had a chance to take root. Someday, maybe. Not tonight.

  Gabriella left the bathroom and ran straight into a brick wall.

  Ty’s big hands steadied her. “Whoa there. You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “Are you sure? You look a little flushed.”

  “I’m okay. Were you waiting for me?”

  Ty indicated the door he’d just exited. The men’s room. “I guess we came out at about the same time. Not that I’m complaining.”

  He reached out, ran his palms down her bare arms. What did he do for a living to have such rough hands? He must work hard, something requiring the strength of the massive guns he sported.

  The wall was suddenly at her back.

  “I should check that scratch on your knee,” he murmured.

  “It’s fine, really. Just a—”

  “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

  Gabriella’s whole body tightened as Ty knelt before her. His touch was gentle, yet she jerked on contact.

  “Easy. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He waited, looking up at her as if asking for permission to continue. She might’ve given him a nod. Might have smiled. She definitely held her breath.

  “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” The heat from his hand warmed her ankle as he moved her foot to rest on his thigh.

  She shuddered as Ty’s fingers danced over bare flesh. He circled her calf before moving up. Up. When he brushed the back of her knee, Gabriella’s breath caught. Her thighs quivered. She prayed the leg supporting her weight wouldn’t buckle.

  Her body was a riot of sensation with all trails leading to her sex.

  Ty continued his assault across the tender skin behind her knee. Pleasure sparked through her body as he brushed over the sensitive nerve endings. Moisture soaked her panties. Gabriella bit her lip to keep from begging him to keep going.

  A sexy half-grin teased his lips as his eyes darkened with lust.

  Holy shit.

  He knew.

  Ty was the first man to find the sweet spot behind her knee without any help from her. And the shameless man took full advantage.

  Ty cupped her leg, his hands surrounding her scraped knee. His fingers reeked havoc on her senses. Her skin pebbled at his touch, as though reaching out for more.

  They were in a public hallway, for god’s sake. Gabriella tried to focus. “How does it look?” she croa
ked out.

  Slowly, Ty leaned forward. He pressed a gentle kiss to her wound before surging to his feet. The momentum plastered her back against the wall. Ty dipped his head. The warmth of his breath teased the side of her neck as his hands snaked under the hem of her shirt. He held her waist, his thumbs sweeping back and forth on her abdomen.

  Oh, he was good. So, so good.

  “It looks like a tiny…” Ty pressed his lips against her shoulder. “Harmless…” Her collarbone. “Scratch.” Then his lips hovered over hers. Not touching.

  Waiting.

  Gabriella wet her lips. Ty’s gaze narrowed on the movement. He leaned down, sucked her bottom lip into his mouth. His tongue traced along the edge before deepening the contact into a full-blown kiss.

  Forgetting where they were, forgetting everything except the feel of Ty’s lips on hers, Gabriella opened, savoring her first taste of him.

  He tasted of beer and dark promises. The wicked way he moved his tongue, back and forth before gliding inside her mouth, made her wonder if he fucked the same way he kissed. Teasing at first, then gradually more demanding until all she could do was hold on for the ride.

  Ty took his time, seemingly savoring her mouth. His fingers tightened, held her in place as he kissed her more thoroughly than any man had before.

  Overwhelmed by sensation, Gabriella couldn’t think straight. She turned her face to the side, breaking the kiss. “Wait.” She needed a minute. To breathe. To process the fact she was seconds away from letting him take her however he wanted. Right here. In public.

  “What’re y’all doin’ back here?” Devon walked over and leaned casually against the wall, blocking her view of the hallway entrance. “Looks like this is where the good stuff is happening.”

  They both froze. Ty released his grip on her hips and Gabriella immediately missed the weight of his hands.

  “Back off, Dev.” The warning in Ty’s voice was clear.

  Devon stayed put, his expression amused as he looked between them. “Is there a problem?”

  Tyler cupped her cheek. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m good.” She smiled reassuringly at Devon. At least, she hoped it was reassuring and not the crazed smile of a women about to lose her sanity.

  Bracketed by the two men, Gabriella willed her heart rate to slow. She hadn’t wanted to stop, but where they were headed required privacy. And preferably a bed. She was about to make the suggestion to Ty when someone entered the hallway.

  “Gabriella? Is that you?” Shit. “What the hell is going on here?”

  Devon stiffened a second before Ty followed suit. Gabriella tried to push from between the men, but they closed ranks around her.

  “Friend of yours?” Ty asked.

  “I know him,” was the best reply she had at the moment. What was she supposed to say? Oh, he’s just the guy I came here to hook up with, but found you instead? Gabriella groaned inwardly. Twenty-four years of playing it safe and within the span of one evening she’d turned promiscuity into an art form.

  Served her right.

  She couldn’t see around the wall that was Ty’s chest, so she closed her eyes and took a breath. “Hey, Freddie.” She might die right here and now. She tried again to break free from her man cage.

  Ty made a low, grumbling noise. “Be still. You aren’t going anywhere until I know this guy isn’t going to cause trouble for you.”

  The idea gave her pause. She didn’t know Freddie very well. Better than the men trying to protect her, but she couldn’t predict what Freddie would do if provoked. Couldn’t predict what any of them would do.

  What she did know was Freddie liked to fight.

  The absurd nature of her predicament made her want to hunt Roger down and punch the bastard in his pretty, made-for-TV face. If he hadn’t called, hadn’t dropped his little bombshell on her, she’d—

  Oh, who was she kidding? She’d gotten herself into this mess. She’d get herself out. She’d get all of them out, hopefully with as little embarrassment as possible.

  Freddie’s heavy boots pounded the floor as he approached. “What’s going on? What are you doing back here?”

  “I’m fine, Freddie. Really.” Her shaky voice didn’t sound very convincing. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Everything is good.”

  “Come over here.” She heard a finger snap.

  What the hell? What was she, a dog? Who did Freddie think he was?

  “Nothing to see here, dude. Move along,” Devon said, his voice smug, welcoming the trouble Freddie posed.

  Freddie didn’t move along. He came close enough for Gabriella to smell the alcohol he’d apparently bathed in. “Move along, my ass. Who do you think you’re talking to, boy?”

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  It was her job to take care of people, not get them hurt in a bar brawl. She had to stop this. Now. Trouble was, there was only one way out of the hallway, and they’d have to get around Freddie to do it. As she took a breath, prepared to explain to Freddie his hostility was unnecessary, Ty snaked an arm around her and rotated to the side just as Devon shoved Freddie in the opposite direction. No longer cornered, Ty shoved her behind him.

  “Hasn’t anyone ever taught you to mind your own business?”

  “Devon,” Gabriella snapped. “Don’t. Freddie, please. I appreciate your concern, but there’s no need.”

  Ignoring her, Freddie opened his arms, puffing his chest out. “You think you got something to teach me, boy? Bring it.”

  She caught the gleam in Devon’s eye the second before his fist shot out. Flesh met flesh with a sickening crunch.

  “Stop! What are you doing?” she yelled as Freddie recovered and took a shot at Devon’s jaw.

  Ty let loose a string of curses, backing her out of the hallway.

  “Get back out front so you don’t get hurt,” he demanded.

  “What about all of you? There’s no need for any of this!”

  Ty held his hand out, blocking her from coming any closer. “Just go.”

  His commanding tone stiffened her spine.

  “Fine. But if you think to find me waiting after a dumbass stunt like this, you’ve got another thing coming.”

  * * *

  Tyler watched Gabriella walk away. Her pretty ass swayed with every angry step. His own anger surged as she made her way through the bar and straight out the front door. He had enough experience to know even if he chased her down, she wouldn’t want to be with him now. The magic of the night had been lost.

  Goddamn Devon. The man had two speeds—fucking and fighting. This wasn’t the first time one had caused issues with the other. But tonight it pissed Tyler the hell off. And not only because it had cost him a night with Gabriella.

  What did Devon think he was doing, starting a fight tonight of all nights? Selfish bastard didn’t think about anyone but himself.

  Did Devon think he’d just jump in and help him? Maybe in the past, but this time his fucking career was at stake. If he worsened the damage to his shoulder—in a bar fight, no less—his bosses would have his ass on a silver platter. Right before they shipped him off to another team.

  Tyler happened to love living in New York.

  About the time he decided to back off unless things got ugly, Eddie shoved by him carrying a baseball bat. “All right, you motherfuckers. That’s enough.” To show he meant business, he slammed the bat against the wall, leaving a substantial dent. “Freddie, you know better than to fight in my bar. What the hell?”

  The scuffle slowed. The men separated. Freddie pressed his back against the wall and slid until his ass hit the ground. His left eye had started to swell.

  “They were messing with Gabriella.”

  Devon took a knee, his chest heaving. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth. The motherfucker was grinning. “They weren’t doing anything. She tried to explain.”

  “What you do with your personal life is none of my business,” Eddie barked. “Just keep it out of my bar. We clear?”
>
  Devon raised his head and stared in Freddie’s direction. “You want to continue this outside?”

  “Forget it.” Tyler held tight to his temper. “We’re out.” He sidestepped and helped Devon to his feet.

  “Hold on. What about Gabby?” Devon’s head jerked around, looking for the missing member of their group. “Where’d she go?”

  Tyler stopped in his tracks, ready to flatten his friend back on his ass. “That ship has sailed, asshole.” He gave him a shove toward the door. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

  “Wait.” The genuine look of confusion on Devon’s swelling face made Tyler want to blacken his other eye. “What’d I do?”

  4

  Men!

  Gabriella shoved her fingers into the dough once more, turning and kneading the mixture with the heel of her palm. Another turn. More kneading.

  Stupid men!

  Turn. Knead.

  Granny would flip her Irish lid if she could see her now. Abusing the dough doesn’t ease a heavy heart, my love, Gran would say. But it does make for heavy bread.

  Heavy bread, her ass.

  Gran obviously hadn’t experienced the vast amount of testosterone poisoning Gabriella had witnessed last night. If she lived to be a hundred, she’d never understand the desire for senseless violence. She saw enough of it on the evening news. She helped people manage pain. She did not stand idly by while it was inflicted. And Ty had thought … what? She’d go sit like a good little girl and wait for the pummeling to end?

  Not her style.

  She’d left the bar pissed off and horny as hell. The short drive home had done nothing to alleviate her body’s need for release. Once home, she’d stripped off her clothes and climbed into bed. A few well-placed flicks of her finger took the edge off. In the end, it hadn’t been enough to ensure a restful sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him. Kneeling. Looking up at her as though she were a chocolate buffet and he had an aching sweet tooth.

  Gabriella patted the dough into a round shape and placed it on a baking stone. With a practiced twist of her wrist, she carved a cross into the top of dough. She’d been at it since four a.m. To hell with her electric bill. She’d cranked down the AC to combat the heat from the oven, but she didn’t care. She needed to goddamn bake.