Game for Love: Game On

by Cat Johnson

  Moving as quickly as she imagined an athlete of his reputation should, he swam to the other edge of the pool. In one smooth move he hoisted his perfect body out of the water and onto the deck. Water cascaded off him as he strode barefoot across the smooth stones surrounding the pool.

  It wasn’t until he lifted the receiver of the house phone located by the towels that Laurel had the presence of mind to wonder who in the world he could be calling.

  As moonlight glistened off Trent’s skin and he sent a heated glance in her direction, she started to not care, as long as he did it quickly and then came back to her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “How may I direct your call?” The female voice on the other end of the call funneled into Trent’s ear, but it felt nothing like when Laurel had whispered those five little words to him.

  Trent, make love to me.

  A shiver ran up his spine from remembering her warm breath against the whorls of his ear. He throbbed just from thinking about sinking into her, and to do that he needed condoms. If there was any way to get them at this time of night, one man would know how.

  “Calvin, please.”

  “Yes, sir. One moment, please.”

  “This is Calvin.” Only a few seconds had passed before Trent heard the voice of the man he’d love forever if he could hook him up with this one request.

  “Calvin, it’s Trent—uh, Mr. Warren.” He was so excited he’d nearly forgotten his cover.

  “Yes, Mr. Warren. What can I do for you?”

  “Um, are there any . . . is there someplace to get some condoms?” Trent found himself whispering the last word as his face burned with the shame of having to ask this man something so intimate.

  This plan had seemed like a good idea while he was pressed against Laurel and his erection was doing the thinking, but now that his brain had taken back control it was just plain humiliating. He’d have to face this man for the rest of the week.

  “Yes, sir. Right away. Would you like them delivered to the pool or to your bungalow?”

  His mouth dropped open. The hotel staff knew where he was? Did they know what he was doing too?

  Of course they did. This was a secure high-end facility. He should have considered there would be security cameras everywhere, even if he couldn’t see them.

  He swallowed and managed to answer, “The bungalow is fine.”

  “Yes, sir. They’ll be there directly.”

  “Thank you.” Good God, this was embarrassing. How was he going to look Calvin—hell, any of the staff—in the eye ever again?

  Thank God they hadn’t actually done it. He glanced back at Laurel, watching him from the pool. In spite of the rising full moon and the hotel’s lighting, it was still kind of dark on that side of the pool. They’d really only been kissing . . . at least above the waterline that was all they’d been doing.

  Reason started to creep back in as Trent made enough excuses to calm himself and he realized he was still holding the receiver in his hand. As he turned to hang it up he realized that the phones probably had caller ID.

  Of course. Calvin and the front desk could see he was calling from the pool. That made sense and he liked that idea much better than the alternative—that the security staff was in a room somewhere watching them like some kind of peep show.

  Trent blew out a breath, feeling moderately better. He still hated that he’d had to place an order for condoms to be delivered but that’s what he got for not being prepared.

  He turned toward Laurel while making a vow to himself to never travel without supplies again, even if it had been so long since he’d had sex the condoms in his drawer at home were probably expired by now.

  “Come here.” He motioned for her to swim to his side of the pool. When she reached the edge, he extended a hand to help her out.

  Standing there dripping wet and with goose bumps on her skin from the cool night air, she asked, “Where are we going?”

  He reached for a towel and wrapped it around her before he grabbed her arms and planted one hard, quick kiss on her mouth. Then he answered her question. “My bungalow.”

  “Okay. Why?” Even with the towel wrapped completely around her, she was still sexy as hell. Any man’s dream.

  “Because that’s where the condoms are being delivered. And there’s a bed there.” And walls. And privacy. And hopefully no security cameras. He left the rest of his list unspoken. No reason for her to be burdened with what he was.

  She smiled, apparently less appalled by his surreal room service order than he was. “That sounds good.”

  Damn, it did sound good. Once he got over his Texan upbringing that had taught him that things like sex should be a private matter, he’d appreciate it even more.

  He grabbed the other towel for himself, wrapping it around his waist to camouflage the pup tent in his trunks in case they came upon anyone.

  Even with a good portion of his blood settled in parts lower, Trent had the presence of mind to remember to gather their things. He slid his feet into his flip-flops and then grabbed his shirt, her dress and her shoes.

  Damn. It had been the sight of her in those shoes and not a whole lot else that had done him in. Made him decide there was no fighting this attraction between them even if it was against his better judgment.

  With their stuff bundled under one arm, he took her hand in his. He felt her trembling as they walked toward his room. “Cold?”

  “A little.”

  “You’ll feel better out of that wet suit.” He’d said it out of concern for her comfort but the image of stripping that bikini off her had him walking a little faster toward his bungalow.

  In his haste to go swimming, or his rush to see her again in her bikini, Trent hadn’t locked the sliding patio door. He slid it open and pulled her inside. He barely took the time to close it now before he was across the living area, headed toward his goal—the bedroom.

  On the way through the living room, Trent halted. There were the condoms, lying right there on the table inside the front door.

  At least they were tastefully packaged and not strewn, loose and embarrassingly obvious across his table. Trent shifted his gaze sideways to Laurel.

  She glanced at the box and then at him. “This place truly is a full service resort.

  He laughed at her reaction. “Thank God for that.”

  She really was perfect. Ready to roll with whatever crazy thing happened next. He could fall for a girl like this . . . but that was a thought for later. He grabbed the box. His embarrassment disappearing more with every step, he continued on the carpeted path that would lead him to paradise.

  In the bedroom, he released his hold on her hand and tossed the box of condoms on the nightstand. When he turned back it was to see Laurel dropping her towel and reaching for the back band of her bikini top.

  The accommodations there were exquisite. The huge mattress dressed in the softest bedding and framed by the carved wood of the four poster bed, all swathed in gauzy fabric, but having Laurel there like this upped the beauty quotient one thousand percent in his book.

  Trent remembered he still had their belongings tucked beneath his arm. He dropped the pile on the dresser and then made short work of his towel and swimsuit. While he stripped, his eyes never left Laurel as she peeled off the tiny wet triangles of fabric and revealed herself to him completely.

  He didn’t miss how she was watching him as hungrily as he watched her. Her gaze swept down his body and back up, making a thorough perusal. Judging by her expression, she liked what she saw. He smiled and took a step forward.

  Encompassing her waist with his hands, he lifted her up and hauled her against him. She wrapped her arms and legs around his neck and waist the way she had in the pool, but this time there was nothing separating them. Not even a scrap of clothing remained.

  Sorely tempted to settle her over him and plunge into her where they stood, he moved to the bed, knelt on the edge and toppled them both onto the mattress. He only had his hands off he
r long enough to tear into the box and roll on a condom, and then he was back.

  He ran his palms over the satin skin of her curves, working his way down until he reached her thighs. Once there, he spread her legs and settled between them. He was too needy to wait any longer.

  Laurel closed her eyes and her mouth opened on a sharp intake of breath as he plunged into her. He felt how wet and ready she was and knew she didn’t gasp in pain but more likely with the relief of finally getting what they both wanted so badly.

  Finally fulfilling a need so long denied overwhelmed him. One stroke had him hissing in a breath. He stilled, holding on to his control by a thread. He absorbed the sensations assaulting him as her tight heat engulfed him completely.

  Trent looked down at Laurel. The passion in her expression made it harder for him to not go crazy. Love her hard and fast and not worry about performing like an untried teenager.

  He wanted this to last. Unfortunately, his body was poised for a sprint to the end zone.

  As she watched him and waited, he said, “It’s been a long time. If I move, this thing is gonna be finished before it starts.”

  “Then we’ll just have to do it again.” Lids heavy with desire shrouded her eyes as she dangled that tempting idea in front of him.

  He sure did like her way of thinking and thanks to Calvin’s delivery Trent was well equipped for round two, plus a whole lot more.

  Setting his jaw, he pushed everything weighing on his mind aside and just felt, letting his need take over. A few strokes and he was lost. A few more and he came hard as the sound of his long pent up need filled the room. After the last pulse rocked him he collapsed over her.

  Enthralled and amazed at how the act he’d performed so many times over the years could so completely consume him now, Trent had no idea how long it had lasted. Long enough to have him breathless, and at the same time not nearly long enough. This one taste of Laurel had made him crave much more.

  He knew he was too heavy to stay on top of her for long but he couldn’t bring himself to move and break the connection between them.

  “You said it had been a long time. Why has it been so long?”

  Her question roused him enough to shrug in response, but not to move any more than that.

  She continued, “I mean I know you said you didn’t date much, but I’d think you’d still have plenty of women jumping at the chance to have sex with you.”

  His knee-jerk answer was always on the tip of his tongue. That he was too busy for a relationship and he didn’t like to sleep with women he wasn’t seriously involved with.

  Trent lifted his head from her chest so he could see her face. Instead of his usual excuse, the truth slipped out. “I have trouble trusting people enough to get this close to them.”

  Damned if he knew why he was confiding in a woman he hadn’t even told his real last name, but he was.

  “You trusted me enough to get this close to you.”

  Since they were still tangled together like a string of knotted Christmas lights, he couldn’t deny the point. “I guess I did.”

  He laid his head back down on her chest, trying not to feel like the biggest douche there was for not telling her the rest of the truth. That a man who made more money a year than the gross national product of some countries couldn’t sleep around without risking some pretty messy complications.

  Funny how he’d forgotten that tonight. And as long as he had, he might as well forget it again.

  Trent rolled off her and onto his side, disposing of the used condom in the trash can next to the night stand. He rolled back and braced over her. “You need something to drink? Water. Champagne.”

  “No, I’m good.”

  “You sure? I’m about ready to get started on round two and I gotta warn you, we could be here a while.”

  A sly smile bowed her lips. “I’ve been training for a marathon since the weather turned cooler. Bring it on. I can handle it.”

  He matched her smile. “That’s very good to hear, darlin’.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Laurel woke to the light of morning creeping in through the windows of the bedroom. Moving caused the tug of soreness in all the right places.

  Trent had made good on his promise last night. He’d redeemed himself during round two . . . and round three. Neither one of them had gotten to sleep until late, yet she’d never felt better.

  Trent was still sleeping like the dead, but Laurel was wide awake. It had always been like that. Once she was up, she was up.

  One look at the clock on the nightstand and she saw it was later than she’d thought. She also saw the torn box and the remains of its contents. Laurel smiled, remembering. When Trent did something, he devoted one hundred and ten percent effort to it and she had no complaints.

  He’d earned the right to sleep in and as nice as he was to look at, even in sleep, she had something she needed to do. Laurel could take this opportunity to do what she should have done yesterday, if she hadn’t been under his spell.

  She slipped from the bed and paused, glancing back to see if her movement had woken him. He continued to breathe, deep and steady.

  After a quick trip to the bathroom, Laurel grabbed the T-shirt Trent had worn yesterday. She pulled it over her nakedness and went in search of her bag. She found it in the living room where she’d left it before dinner and before their swim . . . and before the other memorable activities of last night.

  Even as she searched in her bag for her cell phone, she realized she might never get the smile off her face just from one night with Trent. That was going to make it extra sucky when she had to say goodbye to him and the memories were all she had left, even with as good as those memories were.

  She carried her cell phone to the patio so she could talk without waking Trent. The spectacular landscape distracted her the moment her bare feet hit the cool stones of patio. Her unexpected stay in paradise might not last for much longer, but at least she’d gotten to live in Trent’s incredible world for a little while.

  A weight settled in her chest and she knew when they did say goodbye, she’d miss the man far more than the setting. Beautiful beaches and fine dining she could find elsewhere, but a man like Trent was one in a million.

  It was a hell of a place Trent had chosen to stay and a hell of a life he lived . . . but all that was inconsequential next to the fact that he didn’t deserve to have her client believe for a single second longer that he was guilty of what she’d accused him.

  Laurel tore her gaze away from the view and sat in the chair she’d occupied during their amazing dinner last night. After scrolling through her contact list, she hit the number to call Becky. The woman needed to know she’d been holding the wrong man responsible all these months.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s Laurel Burnett.”

  “Please tell me you found him.”

  If only it were that simple. “I found him.”

  “Oh my God!”

  “But,” Laurel interrupted Becky’s outburst. “He’s not the man you’re looking for. He’s not the man you were with in Miami.”

  “Of course, he is. He told me.”

  Laurel stood and wandered to the far end of the patio. Frustrated that Becky didn’t want to believe the truth, she leaned against the railing and settled in for what could be a long hard battle convincing her.

  “I’m sure he did, just as I believe he had a credit card showing that name, but he was lying to you. I found the real Trent O’Shea. I saw him close up. I spoke with him.” Laurel had done a hell of a lot more than speak with Trent, but that wasn’t important to this conversation. “He’s over six feet tall with green eyes, a Texas drawl and a tattoo of a longhorn on his chest. None of the details you provided match his description.”

  There was a pause as Becky absorbed what must be devastating news for her. “So what are you saying? It’s not him so I should just give up?”

  “No. I’ll go to Miami. I’ll look for a man matching the descriptio
n you gave me. I’m betting he’s a local and has done this sort of thing before and chances are good that he’ll do it again.” There could be other victims and hopefully some of them would talk with Laurel and provide a lead.

  There was a sniffle on the other end of the line. “I’m due in a few months.”

  “I know that. I’ll keep looking and I’ll find him. I’m good at my job. I found Trent O’Shea, didn’t I?” Laurel made the joke hoping to lighten Becky’s mood and give her hope.

  “Yes.” Becky let out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll be in touch.” Laurel disconnected the call.

  Laurel felt bad for Becky, but sympathy wouldn’t help her or her baby. Finding the imposter would. And to do that she’d have to leave paradise and the incredible man who came with it.

  Time to go back inside and enjoy the short time she had left with him. Sighing, Laurel turned and drew in a sharp breath at what she saw. Trent was standing in the doorway, arms folded across his bare chest, nostrils flaring as he breathed hard.

  “Yeah, you found me all right. The only question is, found me for who? What tabloid are you working for, Laurel?” He let out a bitter laugh. “If that’s even your real name.”

  “Trent. I can explain—”

  “Get out.”

  “But—”

  “Go inside, get dressed and leave before I call security and have you arrested.” His tone was low and threatening. He seemed to vibrate with barely contained anger.

  Laurel was far more afraid of Trent than security or the police. The man she’d shared so much with yesterday was gone. In his place stood a complete stranger. One she didn’t know at all.

  She’d screwed up by not being honest with him the moment she figured out he wasn’t the man she was after. She’d have to make it right, but not now. There was no taking to him like this. He was past hearing her.

  Swallowing hard to push down the sick feeling rising inside her, she nodded. “Okay. I’ll go.”

  She dared to glance at him as she walked past to get through the doorway. He wouldn’t even look at her, but rather stared into the distance.