by Anna Sugden
“Would it bother you if we’re seen leaving together?” she asked gently.
He shrugged. “We’re both unattached adults. What about you?”
“Doesn’t worry me at all.”
“I don’t want to go to the party and waste time with other people that could be spent alone with you.”
His slow smile made her stomach drop. “I like the way you think. Very much.”
“Decision made. Let’s go.” He knelt and picked up one of her shoes. He held out the pump.
Delighted by his chivalry, Sapphie balanced herself with a hand on his shoulder, then lifted her foot so he could slip the shoe on. As she repeated the process with her other foot, she wondered how a simple act could make her long for him to trail those magical fingers higher, much higher, up her leg.
Low in her belly, muscles tightened. “Thank you,” she said huskily as she straightened.
“My pleasure.” He shoved his socks in his pocket, then reached for his wingtips and put them on, stuffing the half-tied laces down the side. Then he held out his hand.
They linked fingers and hurried toward the hotel.
Once inside the door, she steered them to the right. “If we go this way, we can avoid the ballroom. There are elevators at the end that go to the guest floors.”
Though it wasn’t late, the corridor was deserted and the elevator came quickly. Unfortunately, the car didn’t stay empty as it rose to the first floor. People crowded in, pushing Sapphie and Scotty to the back corner. They moved closer together as more people tried to squeeze into the already-packed car, until Scotty put his arm around her shoulders and tucked her into his side.
The man was a gentleman. Although the way he caressed her shoulder with one fingertip did wicked things to her insides.
She slipped her arm around his waist under his jacket. Then she dipped her fingers between the belted waistband of his pants and started inching the shirt free so she could play with his bare skin.
“We’re still in public,” he murmured against her ear before nipping the lobe.
Sapphie covered her sigh with a cough. “Damn it.”
They didn’t move apart as the elevator made its way upward and gradually emptied. The journey seemed to go quickly and yet too slowly. Anticipation filled Sapphie as the top floor was announced and the doors swished open.
Scotty’s grip on her shoulder tightened fractionally before he released her. They walked side by side along the plush carpeting without speaking.
Sapphie was unusually nervous. She sensed if she said the wrong thing, she might spook Scotty, even though he’d made it clear that he was as desperate as she was to get behind the closed door and finally be able to explore this crazy attraction between them in private.
Outside her room, she pulled her key card out of her little blue clutch and held it against the lock until it clicked. As she stepped into the dimly lit room, her nerves vanished.
She was in her domain. Somehow that gave her the feeling of control that she’d been lacking since she’d stepped onto the dance floor with Scotty. She took out her phone and, ignoring the texts and missed calls, switched it to silent, then put it and her clutch on the desk.
Turning to face Scotty, she found him standing in front of her. He’d discarded his jacket—hanging it over a chair—and removed his cuff links, so his sleeves hung open, revealing muscled forearms. There was something incredibly sexy about this man, slightly disheveled in his formal wear.
He trailed a finger along her shoulder, over the ridge of her collarbone, to the hollow at the base of her neck. There, he let his fingertip rest momentarily against her skittering pulse before heading unerringly downward to the valley between her breasts. Then he hooked the neckline of her dress and drew her toward him.
She lifted her arms to his shoulders, then wound them around his neck. His arms pulled her against his body so they were plastered together from chest to toe.
Their mouths met, hot and urgent. The time for playing and flirting and teasing was done.
And there were too many clothes. Sapphie wanted to feel him skin to skin.
She went to work on his shirt, tugging it out of his pants before quickly undoing his buttons. Her palms tingled as she slid them over the hard planes of his chest to his shoulders so she could remove the shirt. She then tossed it behind her and focused on exploring his chest more fully.
Scotty kept himself in great shape even though he was no longer playing. Smooth, tanned skin, with a sprinkling of crisp dark hair, covered well-defined muscles. Not an ounce of fat on his impressive six-pack. In fact, the only thing marring his upper body was a long-healed white scar across the line of his collarbone, where he’d had surgery to repair a broken clavicle early in his playing career.
Sapphie put her lips to the scar, then kissed her way along it to the middle of his chest, then headed down to his flat stomach. As her fingers busied themselves with his belt buckle, her tongue traced the ridges of that six-pack, taking a roundabout path to his belly button. And lower still.
Scotty moaned, then tunneled his fingers through her hair, halting her progress. “My turn. Please.”
“Always the gentleman.” She pressed an openmouthed kiss to the bare skin just above his open belt, then slowly straightened. She held out her hands, palms up. “I’m all yours.”
In two simple moves, her unhooked, unzipped dress slid down her legs to form a puddle of silk on the floor.
She stepped out of the dress and stood before him naked, except for her turquoise lace panties and her shoes.
Scotty stared, mesmerized, for several seconds. “You are stunning,” he said softly, fervently.
“Why, thank you.” She bobbed a curtsy.
His gaze traveled admiringly over her body, making her glad she’d kept up her exercise routine despite her crazy work schedule. Then all thoughts of treadmills and weights flew out of her head as his gaze settled on her breasts. She felt the heat of his look almost as clearly as if he’d touched her.
Yearning tugged at her chest. She wanted his touch. Badly. Now.
“You don’t just have to look, you know.”
His smile made her stomach flip. “Patience. We have all night.”
She reached out to gently scrape her fingernail down the middle of his chest. “Ah, but I can’t wait all night for my turn to play again.” She deliberately let her finger wander below his waistband, where his erection strained against the black fabric. “I don’t think you want me to either.”
His short laugh sounded a tad strained. “Stop that or this will be over before it’s started.”
“O-kay.” She shrugged but removed her hand.
He ran his finger over her bottom lip, then leaned forward and nipped it. “It’ll be worth the wait.”
“Bold words, Captain Matthews.”
“Ex-captain. Still, you know you can always trust promises made by the captain.”
She bit back a moan as he mimicked her action and trailed a finger over her chin, down her neck and into the valley between her breasts. His mouth followed, then circled the swell of her right breast. His hands, meanwhile, skimmed over her sides to her hips, then settled on her bottom.
“This isn’t one of those ‘win guarantees,’ like Messier in ’94, is it?”
“Much as I hate to be compared to the Rangers’ former captain, he delivered. So will I.”
The matter-of-fact statement, uttered in that smooth, deep voice, heightened the anticipation. “Feel free to continue.”
Her airy words ended with a gasp as he took her nipple into his mouth.
The seriousness and single-minded focus that had both drawn her to him and intimidated her were a major plus when he used them to turn her on. As he continued to stroke and taste every inch of her, she swore she could hear the “Hallel
ujah Chorus” building to a crescendo.
Before her legs could give out, he swept her into his arms and deposited her on the bed. He removed her shoes, then began to trace a path up her legs, starting with her toes. He quickly found and then lingered over her more sensitive spots—the back of her knees, the inside of her thighs and the lower curve of her backside. Then he reached the most sensitive place of all.
He’d barely begun to give that delicate bud attention when her first orgasm rippled through her. He paused until the tremors had subsided, then continued to play with her until he’d made her come apart a second time. Then he propped himself up on one elbow and gently caressed her as she recovered.
Totally spent, she looked up at him. “You were right. It was worth the wait.”
His smile spoke volumes. “We’re not done yet.”
That cocky grin reenergized her. “We certainly aren’t.” She rose and pushed him onto his back. “And you have too many clothes on.”
Sapphie made quick work of removing his pants and his boxer shorts. Then she gave him a taste of his own medicine, using her fingers and mouth to explore every inch of his amazing body. Whenever he tried to intervene, she batted his hand away and carried on with her sensual journey to its tantalizing destination: his straining erection.
Knowing she had him on the brink, she straddled him and sank slowly onto his hard shaft until he was buried deep inside her. She savored the way he fit her perfectly. Filled her completely.
His guttural moan resonated within her, rekindling the burning need she’d thought he’d sated. Suddenly, the time for playing was past.
Urgency overtook them. They moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies as attuned to each other as they’d been on the dance floor. Slowly at first, then with gathering speed, they raced toward completion. Harder, faster. Until, as one, they reached the crest and flew over the edge.
CHAPTER THREE
SCOTT AWOKE TO bright sunshine, the smell of coffee and the clacking of computer keys. He ran his hand over the sheet beside him.
Cold.
The bed had been empty for a while. He squinted at the clock and almost did a double take. He never slept this late. Then again, given how little actual sleeping he’d done over the past thirty-six hours, it wasn’t really surprising.
What an incredible weekend. He and Sapphie had barely left the bed, except to sit on the balcony in the moonlight, sipping champagne and nibbling on snacks. And each other. They’d ordered room service whenever they’d needed sustenance, creating impromptu picnics, which had invariably ended with them burning off the calories they’d just eaten.
Scott grinned and rolled onto his back, propped himself on a pillow that still smelled of Sapphie and laced his fingers behind his head.
Their lovemaking had been out of this world. He’d never responded to a woman as he had to her. For the first time in a long while he felt alive and invigorated. Optimistic. Ready to take on the world.
For a moment, he was a little embarrassed. He was in his forties, with grown kids, not fourteen and sweaty palmed because the prettiest girl in the class had said hello to him.
He’d spent a lot of time since Sapphie approached him at the reception aware of his age and relative inexperience, conscious that he was finally getting around to doing things most people did when they were kids. Was he a cliché—lusting over a woman ten years younger than him?
Nah. He’d already had the fast car and he wasn’t into ear piercing or low-slung jeans that showed his underwear. If this was his midlife crisis, so what? His life had been turned completely upside down since he’d retired. Why shouldn’t he enjoy himself? More to the point, why shouldn’t he enjoy himself with Sapphie? They were both adults who were free and single.
Scott smiled indulgently when he saw her on the balcony, seated at the little round table, tapping away intently at her laptop. One foot was tucked under her. She seemed to be speaking with someone via her Bluetooth earpiece.
Her long blond hair was wet. He wished she’d woken him up so they could have shared the shower, like they had yesterday. Man, was he glad he’d retained his strength and stamina.
Sapphie wore a white short-sleeved blouse and tailored navy shorts, instead of the hotel’s robes that they’d lived in since entering her room.
A tiny chill whispered down the back of his neck.
He propped himself up on one elbow and looked around the room. The chill spread to his chest. The remnants of their late-night snacks had been cleared away. The candles they’d ordered from housekeeping tossed in the trash. The closet was empty and the surfaces clear. Her suitcase was packed. The dress was in a dry cleaner’s bag and draped over the case.
Other than the fact that he was lying in a rumpled bed, there was no sign of how they’d spent the weekend.
A memory of Celine, greeting him after his first commentating gig, her packed bags by the door, flashed through his mind.
He was about to toss the sheet aside and go to her, strangely needing the reassurance of touching her, when the door to the balcony slid open and Sapphie walked in, carrying her mug.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” She put her mug next to the coffeemaker, then approached and leaned over to kiss him. She tasted of coffee, with a hint of mint.
When she would have straightened, he caught her around the waist and tumbled her to the bed. “How about a proper good morning?”
Sapphie laughed and twined her arms around his neck. “Good morning.”
All too soon, she pulled out of his embrace and walked to the coffeemaker. “Would you like one?” She held up a mug.
“Sure. Thanks.”
“I held off ordering breakfast until you were awake. Are you hungry?”
“Starving.” He scraped his hand over his stubbled jaw. “I guess I should get cleaned up and put some clothes on.”
“I’ll call room service and breakfast should be here when you’re done.”
Scott hid a frown. Their previously easy conversation had suddenly grown stilted. Awkward.
“Great.” He threw back the covers and grabbed a robe. He padded to the bathroom, mug in hand. Before he was halfway there, Sapphie’s phone rang. With an apologetic smile, she answered the call and headed back out to her laptop.
The bathroom looked bare without her toiletries. Nothing personal remained. Talk about a reality check.
He understood she was an independent woman, with a successful business that was incredibly demanding. Efficiency and organization would be critical. He got that she needed to get her head in the game after a break; he’d always been the same. And he appreciated the lack of fuss. He’d seen enough of clinging women from being around his single teammates.
But he’d expected...more. Some recognition that what they’d shared wasn’t just another wedding-reception hookup. Not that it had meant everything, but that it had at least meant something.
Scott toweled off and, because he didn’t have an alternative, dressed in his formal pants and white shirt. It felt weird to be wearing clothes again. He shook his head. Man, he had to get his brain in gear.
Sapphie was still on the phone when he came out of the bathroom. Breakfast was laid out on the table on the balcony. Her laptop was on the desk inside and she was typing quickly.
“All right, Marty. I’ve rearranged my other meeting. I’ve checked flights and I can be in LA late tonight, to see you tomorrow morning. I’ll do a quick turnaround in Chicago. But I’ll need to head there for Wednesday.” She laughed. “Just remember my angelic status when it comes to my next contract.”
She ended the call, then closed her laptop and slipped it into her briefcase.
The chill was back. “Sounds like you have a busy time ahead.”
Sapphie looked up at him, grimacing. “I’m sorry. I have to catch an earlier fligh
t. Which means skipping out on breakfast.” As she spoke, she put her dress in the suitcase and zipped the bag closed. “I have the room until early afternoon, so you can stay and eat.”
Damn. Not how he’d expected their time together to end. “I should head home myself.”
She went to lift her case from the luggage stand, but he did it for her and set the bag by the door.
“Thanks.” Sapphie slung her purse over her shoulder, put her briefcase on top of her suitcase, then checked her watch. “It’s been a lovely weekend. I hate to rush off, but you know how it goes.”
“Yeah.” His tone was more reasonable than he felt, but he couldn’t match her smile. “Slow down.” He put his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. “Have a safe trip and a successful meeting. I’ll see you when you return to Jersey.”
He went to kiss her, but she pecked him on the lips, then disentangled herself. Alarm bells started to ring.
“I’m not sure when I’ll be back,” she said airily. “It all depends on what my client’s important news is and how it affects me. Certainly my plans over the next few weeks don’t involve anything here.”
That definitely sounded like a brush-off. How was that possible after what they’d shared and done?
Obviously, she hadn’t found the experience as special as he had. Embarrassment twisted his stomach.
“Okay,” he said carefully. He felt like he was tiptoeing through a minefield.
“I can let you know when I’m next around, if you’d like. We could grab a drink or have dinner.” She picked up her cell. “Do I have your contact details?”
“Would you like them?” he said coolly.
“Sure.”
Her half shrug irritated him. He snapped out his cell number, like a soldier giving his serial number to an enemy interrogator.
She tapped it into her phone, then looked up at him, frowning. “Is there a problem?”
Scott tamped down his frustration. “I thought you enjoyed this weekend.”
“I did. It was wonderful. You were unbelievable.”
