City of Champions

by Barlow, Chloe T.

  Taking a quick break, he skated over to her and asked, "What do you think, Doc? Look at what great condition I'm in."

  "You do move pretty well out there."

  "A compliment? I'm shocked. So you don't completely hate me then?"

  "Of course not. Just because I don't want to sleep with you, doesn't mean I hate you."

  "Hey, you're the one who brought up sleeping together. Besides, you don't have to sleep with me. That's optional. Though I think you'd enjoy it." She raised an eyebrow at him wearily. "Fine, well admit this, Doc — maybe you don't hate me, but I have to think you refusing to sleep with me isn't a good thing."

  "It just means that I'm a careful person. Yes, I want to have fun and enjoy my life. But I live a quiet life and I have goals that aren't really conducive to a tryst with a Wyatt McCoy type."

  "I'm not asking you to go out with a 'Wyatt McCoy type.' I'm asking you to spend time with me."

  "Type or not, going out with you is still a bad idea. I have ethical obligations as your doctor."

  "Oh, no you don't. Your consult is done. You said so yourself. You aren't my doctor, unless your opinion is subject to change?"

  Wyatt cringed a little at his own obviousness.

  Don't push too hard, you don't want her to catch on to you, he thought. Besides, I'm kind of enjoying this time with her. Even when she's giving me a hard time.

  "My opinion won't change, I feel pretty confident in it. Besides, I just don't like you in that way."

  His heart sank and desperation started to take root again, but he tried to focus on the appealing side of his personality, wishing it would overcome the panic in his chest. The oddest part was that being with her actually made acting like a charming man extremely easy, seeing as one of the things he'd always relied on was his ability to be a calculating son of a bitch.

  The part he had to focus harder on was reminding himself he was just acting. It was surprisingly difficult, seeing as how he was enjoying this time with her way too much.

  "In what way do you like me, Doc?" Wyatt leaned over Jenna, pressing his waist against the railing surrounding the rink and whispered in her ear, "Let me guess. You had a crush on the captain of the football team and he never noticed you. He was a fool. I would have totally made your 80’s movie teen dreams come true."

  He felt a surge of pride at seeing a smile quirk at the corners of Jenna's reluctant lips.

  "Oh, what's that? Is your face okay? It seems to be cracking…" he said teasingly, and she straightened her expression again. "Don't do that, Doc, I like making you smile."

  "That's good because I'm not morally opposed to smiling. I am actually quite a fan of it. Now, about your guess, you're pretty close," she added, erasing the last hint of a faint smile from her face and replacing it with a frown and lines of worry between her suddenly narrowed eyes. "But no — he wanted to be the captain of the football team and showed me the wrong kind of attention to get there. Luckily for him, I was stupid enough to let his plan work." She breathed deeply and looked straight into Wyatt's eyes with an almost challenging sense of control. "There you have it. Simple enough."

  "What?" he asked angrily, gripping the edge of the railing till his knuckles turned white.

  "It's nothing. I was the coach's daughter and a foolish kid. End of story," she said, raising her chin in a show of strength, but Wyatt's chest felt an uncomfortable twinge of conscience at the quick shimmer of pain across her lovely eyes.

  "It's not nothing, Doc. I know better than anyone the crap people will do to be a part of this game…"

  I'm doing some of that crap myself right now, he thought guiltily.

  "Thanks for caring. I really mean that, Wyatt. Anyway, how does the shoulder feel? This kind of exertion shouldn't cause it too much strain."

  "You can't say something like that and then change the subject, Doc."

  "It's in the past. We all have regrets, and that's one of mine."

  Wyatt felt his jaw click and an unexpected anger rolled through him. "I could find him and kick his ass."

  "That is strangely touching. Thank you — but no, that's okay. I don't like thinking about it. So I don't. It's simple."

  "You've got it all figured out then. Just like that?"

  "Just like that." She snapped clumsily with gloved fingers and gave him a small smile.

  "Wow. You're so logical and cool about everything. It doesn't stop me from getting pissed about what you just said, though."

  "Enough of that. No worrying about me allowed. You'd better get back to showing me your moves, Wyatt."

  "Are you flirting with me, Doc?"

  "Maybe you're growing on me, after all. Now get out there before I change my mind."

  Her words had the weirdest impact on him, as though he was suddenly taller and his chest more puffed out — and her saucy wink almost knocked him onto the ice beneath him.

  But he followed her orders and skated away.

  "Does it feel good to be back on solid ground again?" Jenna asked as Wyatt stepped onto the concrete beside her.

  "Feels awesome. There's a good reason I don't play hockey. How about I walk you to your car?"

  "Okay, but I'll warn you — you're making this seem dangerously like a date, Wyatt."

  "Is that such a bad thing? Come on, tell me the truth."

  "The jury's still out on that. A part of me keeps telling myself we're a bad idea, but another part can't deny I do have a good time with you."

  "I suggest you listen to that part — the good time part."

  "I might. For now, I'll just keep weighing all the evidence."

  "I'll have to make my best case then, I suppose," he answered. They continued to walk the short distance to the parking garage in polite silence, but Jenna couldn't help but feel Wyatt was counting the moments until it was time for him to challenge her again.

  A heady cocktail of relief and disappointment hit her hard when she caught sight of her car. She pulled out the key fob and unlocked it before placing it in her pocket and turning back to Wyatt.

  "Well, this is me. Thank you for walking me here," she said, as she went to open the door.

  "Hey, don't I get a kiss good night? If you're going to weigh all the evidence, then you need to let me present all I have to offer."

  "I'm sure you have a lot to offer, but Wyatt, I told you already — you're not my type, okay?" Jenna spoke quickly.

  "I'm everyone's type," he responded, and simply laughed at her withering glare. "Come on, it was a joke. Lighten up a bit, Doc."

  "Why do people say that? It always has the opposite effect. I feel much less 'light' right now, actually."

  "You aren't really mad at me, are you?"

  "No. I'm sorry. Maybe you bring out my touchy side."

  "How can you be so patient and understanding with everyone, but you won't even give me a chance?"

  "Because with this chance, it's me — my life — that's at stake. And I can't let myself have any room for error."

  "So I’m not allowed to have any room for error with you either, then? Or is it that you don't want to like me?" he asked as she turned her back to him and opened the door.

  "I like to think things through, Wyatt, and taking that kind of step with you…that would be a huge thing for me. Please stop making this so hard for me," she whispered, tossing her purse onto her passenger seat, then unzipping her coat and throwing it on top of her bag. She closed the driver side door, took a deep breath, and turned, only to find that he was standing right in front of her. He was so close she could feel the heat of his body through her thin cardigan.

  "You're all twisted up, Doc," Wyatt whispered, as he slid his hands to the front of her sweater, then dragging his fingers up her body.

  "Wha-at are you doing, Wyatt?" she asked, suddenly feeling her face heat up and traitorous excitement flooding through every part of her body.

  "Your buttons…"

  Jenna looked down and felt another rush of blood to her cheeks when she realized she'd butto
ned her sweater completely wrong before heading out of her apartment to meet Wyatt. For all her bluster about being so careful, here was physical proof she was full of it.

  There was no denying Wyatt McCoy had a mesmerizing sway over her, and now he knew it, too.

  "Were you distracted when you got dressed to meet me?" Wyatt asked quietly, forcing her to look up at him. She quickly realized her mistake, because she couldn't look away from his eyes, and was instantly transfixed by the flecks of gold streaking across their warm, brown depths.

  His gaze never left hers as his nimble fingers worked their way down the front of her body, unbuttoning each inch of the light wool until there was only a thin tee shirt between her body and the warm flesh of his fingertips. Her breath became labored, turning into tiny, quiet pants. The sensation of his touch even through the fabric was almost too much for her to stand. Her fingers felt itchy, wanting so much to touch him, too — to see if her touch could affect him like his did to her. She clenched her hands in fists, trying to fight back the urge.

  He leaned forward and whispered, "I asked you a question, Doc."

  "I was in a hurry. I guess I wasn't paying attention," she muttered against his cheek. Her lips were dangerously close to him, but she couldn't find the will to break his powerful hold on her. Instead, she let her back lean heavily against the side of her car as her breaths fanned against his skin. She finally leaned away from his face and looked up at him. Her mind twisted and turned, trying to come up with something sensible to say — a rational thought that would finally explain why the two of them together wasn't a good idea but nothing came to her — she was completely mute.

  Instead she could only stare at his handsome face, with its penetrating eyes and full lips that, on him, somehow looked both sensual and masculine. Even his jawline was captivating to her. She always went back to those eyes of his — so full of promise and passion, but also enough risk that she couldn't make herself take that leap and tell him she was ready to let go — at least not out loud.

  "Let me take care of it for you," he said gently, and Jenna felt her head nod in acceptance.

  Starting at the bottom of the sweater, he gently closed each button in succession — all the way back up to her chest. He didn't touch her body, pulling the sweater away respectfully as he buttoned it, but she could feel the warmth coming off his hands with each gentle movement.

  It did feel as though he was taking care of her, and the sensation was beyond unnatural for her, but also completely pleasurable. Letting herself want someone usually terrified her, because that led to need, and needing led to loss.

  Jenna didn't think she could bear to lose anything else in her life, but maybe she could indulge herself just once — a brief respite from her own implacable loneliness.

  With each flick of his fingers across the material, Jenna could feel the tingling shock wave of pleasure that his touch always seemed to send shooting through her body.

  Jenna sighed sadly when he reached the final button and reality sunk back in, she had to accept it was time to leave — return to her normal existence.

  Her little break was over. She needed to get back into her car and to a world where she never felt this strange rush of overwhelming pleasure. With all that excitement always came the threat of humiliation and regret, risks she couldn't fathom taking ever again — and it didn't get much riskier than Wyatt McCoy.

  But he didn't let her go, instead he moved even closer to her, pressing her firmly against the door of her car with the length of his tall, hard body. It was as though she were paralyzed — completely unable to move her body away from his. Regardless of whether she believed this was wise or stupid, her body had made its decision. When his hands moved up to her neck and into the waves of her hair, she closed her eyes and breathed him in. He filled her senses with his own breath and his scent of masculine sweat, spice, and fresh laundry that always made her want to wrap it around herself like she were slipping into a freshly made bed.

  "Look at me, Jenna," he ordered.

  The foreign sound of her given name on his lips jarred her back to the moment and she opened her eyes in a flustered frenzy, her heart pounding erratically inside of her.

  "I don't want you to hide from me anymore, Jenna. No more excuses, because I've heard all of yours and I don't buy any of them. I want you to open up that margin of error for me. Do you understand me?"

  Wyatt's voice was thick, his hot breath tickling her face with each of his words, causing her core to spasm violently. Jenna was becoming wet between her tensing thighs with each of his delicious commands. She tried to stand up straight and collect herself, but she couldn't move her legs.

  Her mouth parted but no words came out — the insistent touching and rubbing of his fingers through her hair and against her scalp was too distracting, the flashing of his eyes on hers too hypnotic. All she could do was nod her head again as she looked wordlessly at his face. He was all hard lines and desire and all she wanted was to feel more of him.

  What would it be like to taste him? To bring that scent and his breath inside her body — would it overwhelm everything inside her and leave nothing else behind but him?

  Hesitantly, Jenna lifted her hands and rested them on his waist — so lightly that her fingertips barely toughed the leather of his belt. That was all the encouragement he needed, because he immediately descended onto her mouth.

  His lips were so soft against hers, but his kiss was hot and demanding. It was the most powerful combination of gentle and hard she'd ever experienced.

  Jenna slid her hands up his sides, underneath his jacket, and rubbed them against the hard ridges of his back until he groaned into her mouth. She slipped her tongue deeply into his mouth, as he pressed his full body against her. The metal of her car door dug into her back and the handle pressed uncomfortably against her butt, yet she couldn't be bothered to care.

  In this moment, all she wanted in the world was more of him, every part of him. She bit down on his bottom lip, then licked against it with her tongue and he responded with nibbles and licks of his own. He slid his hands down her body, grasping her bottom in his large hands and pulling her roughly against him.

  She could tell he was hard through his jeans and it made her feel like a ravenous lioness, desperate for food after seemingly unending deprivation. She wanted to sate that hunger — eager to tear him apart with her teeth, if only to taste him that much more completely.

  Jenna's brain knew this temporary insanity was simply the result of a rush of hormones releasing from her brain into her bloodstream. She understood that his enticing body was just a beautiful example of evolution and genetic muscular development, creating his tall body and sinewy limbs — but her body didn't give a shit about all that.

  No — her body wanted to take her brain out back and beat it up until it stopped getting in the way of what the rest of her wanted — what she needed.

  With another press of him against her, he slid his face down to her throat, sucking and nipping delicately at the flesh. He backed up slightly and she groaned in frustration, raising her hands to his head and pushing him harder against her throat. She bent her head, exposing more flesh in complete surrender to him, stroking his soft hair and reveling in each perfect sensation.

  Sliding her hands down, she went to unzip his jacket when a strange voice burst through the quiet air around them.

  "Holy shit, Donnie! I think that's Wyatt McCoy. Look at where I’m pointing, ya jagoff. He’s over there, with that chick!"

  "Oh my God," Jenna blurted out, whipping her head around to see two middle-aged guys pointing at them, clearly excited to have spotted the famous quarterback. She was instantly shocked back into reality and totally mortified with herself. She pushed Wyatt back, to see his eyes were full of confusion and desire.

  "What the hell? Don't worry about them. They can't really see us," he mumbled against her, kissing her neck again, but she pushed him away quickly.

  "I have to go. Crap. What was I thi
nking?"

  Jenna yanked at the door, bumping both of them with it.

  "Stop it, right now, Jenna. You're being ridiculous," he said.

  Her whole body was shaking, and she couldn't seem to make herself create a single coherent thought other than a powerful impulse to run.

  "Sorry, Wyatt. I mean it. Oh, hell."

  She threw herself into the car and fished her keys awkwardly out of her pocket, starting the car as quickly as she could. She caught sight of the two men that had interrupted them coming toward them and she moved even more quickly. They really were far away, but not enough for her taste.

  "I'm sorry, Wyatt. I have to go and I…I think we shouldn't see each other again, okay? You get that, right? Okay, gotta go." The words just kept babbling out of her mouth like water over stones in a creek, tumbling on top of each other in idiotic succession.

  "Jenna, get out of that car and talk to me, now," he ordered, but she pulled out of the spot and drove too quickly around the sharp turns of the parking garage.

  She watched Wyatt in her rearview mirror as she tried to hide her face from anyone that may be able to see her. He looked furious, but not nearly as mad as she was with herself.

  "And that is why we don't take risks, Jenna," she berated herself out loud, but there was nothing but the steering wheel to hear her, and she couldn't be sure, but it seemed pretty furious with her, too.

  CHAPTER NINE

  "Hi Laney, thanks for squeezing me in for my annual. I've been swamped lately!"

  Jenna gave her friend a hug and then pulled down her flimsy examination gown. The old mantra that doctors made the worst patients was certainly true in her case. The moment she walked into a doctor’s office for her own health, she immediately became uncomfortable and jittery. She was grateful that her yearly Pap smear was with one of the first new friends she'd made after moving to Pittsburgh and joining UPMC.

  "Some things never change, right, Jenna?" Laney said cheerily, her light brown hair smoothed back in a simple ponytail from her cute face and pert nose that still somehow engendered confidence in her patients, even if she was completely adorable. "All right, you know the drill. Into the stirrups. Giddyup," Laney said, with a wicked grin and a slap of the cushioned table.