The Sport of Romance: A Multi-Author Box Set

by Cari Quinn

  Tray came to a halt. “It was you.”

  “Hmm?”

  “You came here while I was in the hospital. You cleaned.”

  Since he said it almost accusingly, I pressed my face into Vey’s fur to give myself an extra moment. “Yeah. I didn’t go through your stuff, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just had some extra energy and I wanted to do something. So I fed the dog.”

  “You didn’t go through my rainbow condom collection? It’s impressive.”

  “Nope, sorry.” I couldn’t help but snort. “I didn’t look in any drawers.”

  “I don’t keep them in drawers. I tack them up next to my bed like this rock star dude I like. Easier access.”

  I wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not. He was good at faking me out when he wasn’t wearing an eye patch. With it on, he was practically inscrutable. “Oh really. What rock star?”

  “Lead singer of Oblivion. Simon Kagan. He’s kinda crazy.”

  “I don’t really pay much attention to music.” When had that happened anyway? I’d once loved listening to my favorite groups, but I’d lost track of that along with so much else.

  “They’re pretty new. They’re on their first tour right now. I’m hoping to get tickets when they swing through here.”

  “Awesome.” Since I’d never been to a concert and didn’t have much to say on the topic, I went back to nuzzling Vey.

  He headed into the kitchen and returned holding a pair of beers. “Are you sure you didn’t sniff my boxers?”

  “Ugh.” I giggled then bit my lip.

  What was wrong with me tonight? Ever since he’d walked into Mark’s, I’d been acting completely abnormal. Yes, I was happy to see him. Yes, I’d missed him. I’d been worried since the fight, and having him show up strong and whole had been the best kind of shock.

  Between that sorta sexy, sorta sad eye patch and his cold, I couldn’t help wanting to take care of him. But this was all too much. First, wanting to tell him something I’d never spoken about to anyone other than the cops. Now, laughing and holding his hand and pretending I was a normal girl. Not a fighter willing to sacrifice anything to reach some arbitrary goal. Just a girl who liked being with a guy.

  I took the beer he held out. Maybe I could be that girl, just for tonight.

  Not if you tell him. If you say those words—that you were raped and used, that you killed a man in cold blood—it ends here. He’ll never want to touch you again.

  Could I even blame him if that ended up being true?

  “One for the road.” He tipped back his beer and drank, and I followed suit.

  “C’mon, Vey.” He reached for the red leash clipped near the door and Vey’s tail thumped on the floor. “We’re going on a sleepover camping trip.”

  “I’ve never been camping.” I had so many nevers in my life.

  I flicked my nail under the edge of the beer label, pausing at the silence that greeted my reply. When I looked up, he shook his head. “You haven’t lived until you’ve sat by a campfire and roasted marshmallows.”

  Like a tape on fast rewind in my mind, I remembered how things had been after mom had died. How dad had tried so hard to keep things together but drank alone at night when he thought Carly and I didn’t know. The coupons I’d cut from the newspaper because he’d been too out of sorts to remember to get groceries. Those years of raiding my piggybank to scrape up enough cash for Carly to buy school supplies since Dad drank any extra money away in his misery.

  When I’d climbed in that car with Darren, for a moment I’d fantasized he was taking me away from all the responsibilities I’d dealt with too young. I just wanted to escape. He was so good-looking and I’d been flattered by his attention, despite how much older he was.

  He’d taken me away, all right. Until I fought like a wild animal to get back to my life. To Carly and Dad.

  When Dad died of a heart attack weeks after my return, I clung to my sister. She was my touchstone. My safety net. The one who helped me believe I could still be normal if I tried hard enough.

  “Maybe I’ll get to go camping someday,” I whispered, staring into my bottle.

  “You will.”

  I glanced up and he knelt at my side, his gorgeous aqua eye trained on me. The sight of that silly eye patch should’ve broken the moment, but it didn’t. “How do you know?”

  “I’ll take you. I promise.”

  What did it say about me that I wanted to believe his promises? Was I as gullible as my sister?

  He snapped on Vey’s leash then rose and held out his hand. “Come on. You said you’d VapoRub me until I fell asleep.”

  I smiled. How could I not? Somehow this amazing man was still a part of my life though I’d tried repeatedly to shove him out. “Sounds kinky.”

  He gave me a sideways grin. The whole pirate thing he had going made him even hotter. “A guy can hope.”

  We took a cab to my place and walked into a blessedly quiet apartment. Carly had developed a habit of leaving the TV on when she went out, but tonight all was silent and dark. I bumped into the end table and laughed as a wet nose ran up the back of my leg. My freezing leg, since I hadn’t changed into my pants after the gym. Forty degrees and bare skin didn’t mix.

  “You okay?” Tray gripped my waist before tracing the hem of my shorts, then my thigh. “Jesus. You need to warm up.”

  I flipped on the lights. “I will in a few minutes.”

  He rubbed his chilly nose along the back of my neck, nudging aside my braid. “Let’s take a hot shower.”

  His words acted as kerosene and his warm breath sifting through my hair became the match. I shivered. My nipples pebbled to hard points, and this time, the cold wasn’t to blame.

  As I remembered Carly’s similar reaction to Giovanni the other day, I started to laugh. Who was I to judge? Clearly, I was no better.

  “Laughing at me?” Rather than getting offended at my reaction, he tugged me back against his firm chest—firm everything, I discovered quickly enough—and licked my earlobe. “C’mon, you know you’ve always wanted to do it with a pirate.”

  I attempted a smile, well aware it fell short. His easy references to sex brought me out of the moment and turned it into something big and scary. Exciting too, but fear always rode shotgun. To him, sex was just a way to relieve stress or have fun or pass the time. It took so much out of me to try to seem relaxed.

  “What girl hasn’t?” I replied, hoping he couldn’t hear the quaver in my voice.

  He circled his hips and brought his semi-erection flush against my ass. “Don’t forget the VapoRub. My sinuses are on the verge of weeping with joy.”

  Vey leaped up on the couch and stretched out, making himself at home. Within a minute, he was snoring.

  “I actually have a homemade form of the stuff that Car makes.” Cold remedies were a safe topic. Those I could discuss without worrying about an imminent panic attack. “It’s a natural holistic blend.”

  “Whatever.” He helped me take off his jacket then turned his head away to sneeze. “Slather it on.”

  I tossed the coat on the arm of the sofa. “Do you have any allergies? Eucalyptus, peppermint, rosemary?”

  “Nope.”

  “Cinnamon? Coconut oil?”

  “No. But I do have an allergy to long-term hard-on-itis, which is when you turn me on then leave me hanging forever.” Walking backward, he tugged me toward the bathroom. “When will your sister be back?”

  I looked at my watch. Just past ten. Carly had said she was catching a movie with friends after the gym so we had a little time. “Within the next hour, probably.”

  “We’ll work fast.” He stopped and his smile faded. “If you, you know, want to work at all. I didn’t mean to assume.”

  “Go get undressed.” Trying to smile, I gave him a gentle push and detoured to the kitchen. “I’ll be in soon.”

  “Promise?”

  God, he sounded so sexy when he pouted. “Promise. I might even bring you a treat.�
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  “I like treats.” After giving me an eyebrow waggle that didn’t work quite to the same effect with the eye patch, he headed into the bathroom.

  Humming. Like he was happy. He’d just gotten out of the hospital and needed surgery soon, but he was perky as could be.

  And me? I walked around like a living thundercloud. Always gloomy and seething. What the hell did he see in me?

  I fixed him a drink and carried it into the bathroom, expecting him to be naked and in the shower. It was small, but I figured he could fold himself in if he got creative with his position. Something I bet he had plenty of experience with. Which didn’t make me jealous. At all.

  But he sat on the edge of the vanity, swinging his legs. Still fully dressed and patched.

  “Why aren’t you naked?”

  “Now there’s a question I wish I got more often.” He snatched the mug of hot cocoa before I could offer it and took a greedy sip. Froth coated his upper lip, making me laugh until he leaned forward and caught my lower one, transferring the flavor of mint and chocolate and Tray.

  I’d missed that taste. Him. That sharp bite of his teeth, the slow, languid slide of his tongue over mine. Exploring without any rush. I’d thrown in little marshmallows too, and he slipped one between my lips in a playfully sexy move that made my nerves vanish.

  He wound his fingers through my braid, freeing my hair so it tumbled around my face. Sipping slowly, he studied me, causing me to squirm. “You’re so beautiful.”

  His tone, soft and reverent, was my undoing. Hell, he was my undoing. I was so tired of denying it.

  After a moment, he smiled. “You didn’t argue with me.”

  “No.” I took a shaky breath and toyed with the strap of my tank top. “I think you’re beautiful too.”

  “I’ll accept that. But feel free to change that to macho or suave or outrageously handsome at any time.” When I laughed, he set aside the mug. “Are you wearing my bra and panties?”

  “Why, Tray Knox, I didn’t realize you had a bra and panties.” Was that really my voice that sounded so…flirty? It must be, because he cupped my hip and drew me between his spread legs.

  “You know what I mean. When you wear them, you think of me.” As if he were daring me to say no, he set aside the mug and lowered his mouth to my nipple through my tank. That one perceptive aqua eye stayed riveted on my face while he pulled the tip between his teeth, slow and sure.

  “You think so, huh?” But he was right. I’d had no reason to wear them tonight, other than my desire to feel closer to him. Just like when I wore his coat.

  “Know so. You imagine me taking them off of you, like I’m about to do right now.” His hot, mesmerizing gaze seared my skin through my shirt as he lifted it, inch by maddening inch.

  God, I’d have to go lingerie shopping with Carly again. Voluntarily. Soon.

  “Beautiful Mia.” He whispered it against my skin, over and over, imprinting me with his breath and the shape of his lips and his kisses. First through the bra then beneath it after he peeled the material away. Down my stomach, lower and lower. He eased to his knees in front of me, wordlessly asking permission.

  I pushed off the workout shorts and the boy shorts beneath, my throat turning dry at the way he slowly, deliberately breathed in. So sexy. Sweat turned me on, and he obviously felt the same since I hadn’t yet showered after my workout.

  Rocking my hips, I wound my fingers into his hair and pressed in close, inching up to my toes at his initial long, soft lick. Barely making contact. His groan rippled over my flesh before he returned for more, ramping up the heat in my core until I let out a wild cry. He answered me with another groan, pushing me deeper into that place that belonged only to us. Just his body and mine and the invisible currents that twined us together.

  Normally he’d talk dirty to me. Not now. His mouth did the most unspeakably wonderful things, probing me in a way I’d never expected to allow a guy to do, never mind enjoy. I wrapped my leg around his back and dragged him closer, silently demanding more. Grinding shamelessly against his lips.

  “Oh yeah. Tray. That feels so…” I ran out of enough air to formulate words, merely moans.

  “There it is, that southern accent. Fucking love how you sound when you’re close.” He sounded half delirious, just like me. “I want your come in my mouth. Give it to me.” He sucked on my clit, firm and hard, drawing another frantic whimper from my throat.

  When my knees threatened to give out, he locked an arm around them and pushed his tongue deep, over and over, commanding me to finally let go. Offering me no choice. I came apart, gasping, and he swallowed everything I gave with low rumbles of pleasure.

  I pulled him up and attacked his wet, swollen lips, wanting to taste myself the way he’d tasted me. He wrapped me in his arms, so tight that my head spun from lack of oxygen. Or maybe that was from the aftereffects of my orgasm.

  “You’re so goddamn sexy,” he growled. “I want you so bad I can’t think.”

  Mindlessly, I rubbed against his thick, hard length, trying to quench the ache that was already building again. The one only he could soothe. Tonight there wasn’t a single part of me that could say no. My want was too huge.

  My hands fanned his face, cupping his jaw. Holding him in place for the kisses he gave back as good as he got. I stroked his cheeks, savoring the rough stubble under my palms, then inched higher to tug at his eye patch.

  He jerked back. “Baby, no.” I loved how breathless he was, and even more than he didn’t argue when I went back a second time.

  “Let me see.” Heartbeat racing, I tugged off the patch and sucked in a breath. “It doesn’t look that bad,” I hedged, my voice breaking enough to prove me a liar.

  He laughed drily. “Next time try not to gasp before you say that.”

  I traced the puffiness beneath his thick row of lashes, then carefully explored the cuts that bisected his eyelid. His eye had sunk a little lower than the other one and had swollen so that only a bloodshot strip of aquamarine showed. My own eyes watered and I blinked furiously before he could see. “When’s your surgery?” I whispered.

  “Two weeks from Saturday.”

  The day after my fight with Giovanni. He didn’t say it and neither did I.

  He cleared his throat. “My dad consulted a friend about my case. Supposedly it’s actually better to do the surgery when as much as of the swelling and inflammation has decreased as possible. Plus with my cold, they couldn’t do it right away.” From his tone, he didn’t appreciate the delay.

  I couldn’t claim to be the biggest fan of his dad after he’d dismissed me like some bimbo. His mother wasn’t much better, but I had to think they’d do what was best for their son, especially in regards to his health. My parents would’ve died for Carly and me.

  Actually, my dad kind of had. My being kidnapped had killed him, even if that hadn’t been the official cause of death. I knew it, and I was pretty sure Carly did too. We’d added that to our long list of unspoken topics years ago.

  So many secrets. So many things off-limits. God, I was so tired of carrying all that crap around. I wanted to lay all of it down, to trust someone else with the burden.

  I wanted to trust Tray.

  “Mia?”

  Shaking it off, I pressed my lips to the small bandage above his brow, leaving them there as he shuddered out a breath. “That’s better,” he murmured, and nudged his hips into mine. Reminding me that not all of him was injured.

  “Let’s take that shower.” At his relieved nod, I stepped to the door and locked it just in case. My sister didn’t need to walk in on anything R-rated. Maybe X.

  When I turned back, he’d already stripped down, hopped in, and turned on the water. His eagerness made me laugh, as did the quizzical look he shot my way. I stepped into the shower and looped my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek to his roped back.

  “Hey there.” He gripped my palms against his stomach, so low that his cock bumped our hands. I shivered right on
cue. “I can’t wash you like this.”

  “But I can wash you.”

  He didn’t have a ton of ink like Giovanni but I found his bare skin twice as arousing. He definitely had as many muscles, which I set about to exploring with my tongue. I’d never gotten to examine a man’s body in detail—had never wanted to—and tonight I wanted to rectify that. Every part of him fascinated me, and I planned to indulge my curiosity. In depth.

  I spent extra time on the bruises he’d accumulated, all in various stages of healing. A large welt marred his hip and he hissed out a breath when I grazed the wound with my fingertips. I crouched to kiss it, closing my eyes at his next rapid exhale. Knowing I affected him even a fraction as much as he did me was the biggest aphrodisiac ever.

  “Did you forget the soap?”

  His choked question made me grin. “Patience, sensei.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you won’t be so zen when your rough ride turns into a puddle on the tiles.”

  Still grinning, I bypassed Carly’s floral body wash and grabbed my unscented bar, taking my sweet time lathering up my hands before I rubbed them over the broad expanse of his back.

  He shuddered. “Just remember I warned you.”

  “I have faith in your control.” I kneaded his muscles slow and deep, working through the individual kinks I found while the water ran from hot to warm. Occasionally I’d drop kisses in my wake, and I may have nibbled on one or both of his extremely bitable ass cheeks. Accidentally on purpose.

  He was so taut and tight…all over. I rubbed soap over every inch I could reach until he braced his hands flat against the wall to let me have my way with him. Then I slipped around to the front and took him in my mouth.

  His groan echoed in the steamy chamber, reigniting the warmth still burning in my belly. But rather than knotting his fingers in my hair and insisting on more, he stumbled back and held out a hand to ward me off. He shut his eyes as if the sight of me pained him.

  “Get off your knees, Mia.”

  My name sounded like a slap. A dismissal. I bowed my head under the streaming water, closing my eyes, and fought to swallow over the knot in my throat. What had I done wrong?