Worth The Shot (The Bannister Brothers #2)

by Jennie Marts

  And as far as Addison Cavanaugh was concerned—he needed to let her go, too. As much as he thought he liked her, his career was more important. They could still be friends, sure. But he had to let her go. Stay focused on the game—on his career. He could do this.

  A flash of color caught his eye, and he glanced up to see Addison walking down the stairs. She was wearing a snug red dress, simple but elegant, and a killer pair of red high heels. His breath caught in his throat.

  She looked around the room—her gaze falling on him—and she smiled. A smile meant just for him.

  And that was it.

  Game over.

  He fell. Hard. Like face-plant, no-turning-back, out-of-control hard. He might as well have ripped his heart from his chest and handed it to her on one of those silver platters that the caterers were carrying around the room. Because it now belonged to her.

  His heart was hers.

  He stood, frozen in place, overwhelmed by the magnitude of his feelings as she approached him.

  Knowing her dad’s warning and too smart to give their relationship away, she stopped a few feet away from him and held out her hand. “Hi, Bane.”

  Wait—relationship? Since when did this become a relationship?

  Since the moment she’d kissed him on the plane and turned his world upside down.

  He took her hand, squeezing it gently, running his thumb over her knuckles, and remembered how it felt earlier today when her hand was clutching his back in desire.

  Get a grip, dude.

  “Hi,” he croaked.

  She chuckled. “You all right there, Mr. Bannister?”

  He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sorry. You look amazing in that dress, Addie. Seeing you walk down the stairs kind of turned my brain to mush for a minute.”

  “What a lovely compliment.” She grinned. “You look pretty great in that tux, too. But your shirt looks odd. I’m used to you wearing at least one drink down the front of it.”

  He laughed. He’d rather be wearing her body down the front of his shirt. And her legs wrapped around his waist. “Very funny. But I appreciate the compliment on the tux. I found this great men’s store downtown. For a hundred bucks, you get the most amazing service.”

  She shook her head. “Oh, that was bad. You need to work on your jokes.” She gestured across the room. “Come on. I’ll show you around. Introduce you to the team.”

  She turned around and his mouth fell open.

  Damn.

  Her dress was backless, the folds of the fabric loose and flowing around her waist. Her skin was pale and creamy, and his hands itched to touch her—to slide his fingers inside her dress and along her narrow waist.

  She looked over her shoulder and grinned, as if she could read his mind and knew exactly which dirty thoughts were running through his head.

  Laughing, she grabbed his hand and pulled him across the room. “Come on.”

  They spent the next hour mingling as she introduced him to the Blueshirts players and their significant others. Some of her parents’ friends were at the party also—the influential and upper class of St. Louis—and Addison introduced him to them, as well.

  He admired her grace, her casual ease in the formal setting, the way she smoothly transitioned from the upper-class elegance to the more rowdy players on the hockey team. She seemed comfortable with both, laughing and joking, and everyone liked her.

  Including him.

  He liked her smile, her laugh, her clever wit. And he really liked those damn red high heels. But he’d like them better if they were wrapped around his neck.

  Standing alone in the hallway, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I really like your dress.” His gaze traveled down the front of her chest, admiring her cleavage and the slightest edge of red lace. The corner of a familiar rectangular object poked out over the top. “Do you always carry your phone in your bra?”

  She laughed. “I do when I’m expecting a really important call.” She lowered her voice. “I’m supposed to hear back from the magazine tonight. You remember, about the job. They’ve been in meetings all day, and they’re supposed to call the candidates tonight and let us know who they picked.”

  Hmmm. That might just be the break he needed. If she got the job in Denver, then it would be easy to break things off now. Before either of them got in too deep.

  Yeah, right. Who was he kidding? He was in so deep, he could barely keep his head above the water.

  He smiled down at her. “I’m sure you’ll get it.”

  “Fingers crossed.”

  Another couple stepped into the hallway, and Addison and Bane wandered back out to mingle with more guests.

  He offered to get them some drinks and left her chatting with a couple by the huge stone fireplace. It took him a while to find a waiter who would fill his special order, and when he returned to the fireplace, he saw her talking to a blond guy in a tux.

  Douchy McDouche.

  Bane’s blood boiled at the sight of the guy, and he wanted to walk up and give Trent Hadley a roundhouse punch to the side of the head. But he didn’t think Addison or her father would appreciate it if he did.

  Instead, he took a deep breath, plastered on a smile, and crossed the room to where Trent and Addison stood. “Hey, Kent. How’s it going?”

  His possible teammate’s face darkened. “It’s Trent.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s right. Sorry.” He handed Addison her drink.

  She looked at the glass, and a grin covered her face. “Thank you.”

  Trent looked at the glass and Addison’s smile, and his expression turned to one of disdain. “Dude, I don’t know what kind of redneck wine drinkers you have in Colorado, but in St. Louis we don’t put ice in our wine.”

  Addison took a sip of the white wine, the ice cubes floating in the glass, and sighed with satisfaction. “Perfect.”

  Bane shrugged at Trent. “I guess some people in St. Louis do.”

  Trent scoffed as he looked down his nose at Addison. “Not the bright ones,” he said, not quite under his breath.

  Adrenaline pumped through Bane and his hands curled into fists at his side.

  Addison must have noticed, because she stepped in front of him. “Hey, there’s someone I wanted you to meet.” She rested her hand on his shoulder and turned him away from Trent.

  It was a good thing, because if he had to look into that smug guy’s stupid face for another second, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from landing a punch in his throat.

  She pushed him forward, calling over her shoulder, “See you later, Trent.”

  They crossed the room, and she led him into the kitchen.

  He looked around at the huge, gleaming space. Caterers moved quickly, coming in and out of the room, filling trays with drinks and hors d'oeuvres. “You have someone you want me to meet in here?”

  She led him to the back of the kitchen and into a hallway where a flight of stairs led up to the second floor. “Well, it’s not so much someone I want you to meet as something I want to show you.”

  Oh.

  His adrenaline flamed again, but this time not in anger.

  He followed her shapely legs up the stairs and down a carpeted hallway. She opened a door, stepped into a bedroom, waited for him to enter, then shut the door softly behind him.

  He looked around the bedroom and guessed it had been hers growing up. The room was large and decorated in dark purples and burgundies. A bulletin board covered in pictures was affixed to the wall above an uncluttered desk. The focal point of the room was a large bed with a purple comforter and a ridiculous amount of throw pillows.

  Bane wandered around the room, looking at the mementos that had made up Addison’s life. Pompoms, frayed programs from school dances, pictures of laughing teenage girls. “I take it this was your bedroom.”

  “Yes.” She approached him, sliding her hands inside his jacket and around his waist. “And I was not allowed to have boys in here.”

  He grinned down at her. “Are
you now?”

  “Nope.” She pulled at his bow tie, sliding it slowly from around his neck, then released each button of his shirt, laying a kiss on his chest after each freed button. “You won’t tell, will you?”

  Her lips on his skin sent shivers of sensual bliss coursing through him. This was a bad idea. Such a bad idea.

  She peeled open his shirt, exposing his chest and circling his taut nipples with her tongue. He tipped back his head, letting loose a low moan of pleasure.

  He should stop this. Stop this right now and just go back downstairs to the party.

  Addison stepped back.

  Thank goodness. She’d come to her senses.

  She narrowed her eyes in wicked enjoyment and with slow deliberation pulled the sleeves of her dress down her arms. She pulled the cell phone from her bra and set it on the dresser. Then, with a slight wiggle, she slid the dress over her hips, and it hit the floor.

  Oh. Shit.

  Addison stood before him wearing nothing but the sexiest red lace bra, tiny lace panties, and her red stiletto heels.

  And that was it. All reason or rational thought seeped out of his brain like liquid through a sieve. All he could focus on was her. And how fast he could peel her out of all that red lace.

  Addison took a few steps back, sat on the edge of the bed, and crooked a finger toward him.

  This was such a bad idea. Such. A. Bad. Idea.

  He should just walk away. She’d be pissed, but he’d still have a career, and a shred of self-control.

  He lifted his foot to walk away, but his damn traitorous foot took a step toward her instead. Then another step.

  He knelt in front of her, reaching his arms around her waist and pulling her toward him. He ran his fingers slowly up her back, across her shoulders, and slid her bra straps smoothly down her arms. He tugged the cups down, releasing her full, ripe breasts. Dipping his head, he sampled first one breast, then the other.

  She sighed. A soft, sexy sigh of pleasure and contentment. A sigh that said she’d been waiting all day to have his lips on her breasts.

  He teased her nipples with his tongue—circling, tasting, sucking—drawing out her want and need. Her back arched and she gripped handfuls of the purple bedspread as he tormented her with his mouth.

  His hands slipped over her waist, his fingers skimming under the lace panties, until he cupped her butt in his hands. Squeezing and caressing her ass, he lifted his head, laying a trail of hot kisses up her throat until he reached her lips.

  Taking her mouth, he kissed her, hard—with fever and passion. With a want and need that he’d never felt before.

  She kissed him back, moaning against his mouth as her hands went to his belt and yanked it loose. Her fingers worked the zipper free, and she pushed at his pants.

  Gripping her waist, he pulled her closer to him, until she bumped against him and wrapped her long legs around his waist. Rubbing against him, the friction building until he thought would die. Like literally have a heart attack right here in her bedroom and die.

  And it would be the sweetest, most perfect death.

  She stopped, pulled back, gasping for breath. “I want you, Bane. Right here. Right now.”

  All he could do was nod. He swallowed. “Yes, okay. I’m good with that.”

  She laughed, the sound light and playful. The she released his hips from between her legs, rolled over, and crawled up the bed—giving him the most exquisite and erotic view that he could imagine.

  Reaching for the nightstand table, she pulled open the drawer and tossed him a gold foil-covered condom.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “I thought you said there were no boys allowed in here.”

  She rolled over, holding herself up by her elbows, and flashed him a naughty grin. “There weren’t. I never had boys in my room. But I knew I would have a man in here tonight. So I planned ahead.”

  He grinned back. “You naughty little vixen.” Holding the foil wrapper, he crawled up the bed, trapping her beneath him. “Were you planning this?”

  He flipped her over, back onto her stomach, and loved the little gasp of excitement she made.

  Brushing her hair aside, he kissed her shoulders, her neck, down the center of her back. Releasing the clasp of her bra, he pushed the straps aside, and slid his tongue down her spine.

  Grasping the edge of her lace panties, he slid them slowly, tortuously down her legs and threw them to the floor.

  Straddling her legs, he paused to enjoy the view of her naked body. And he knew that he wasn’t letting her go.

  She squirmed beneath him, which only rubbed her delicious ass against him, and excited him further. Her body was a flawless playground for his hands, his lips, his tongue. He tasted, nipped, and licked as he explored her generous curves, learning what made her moan and cry out with desire.

  Her long hair fell in dark waves around her head, and he buried his face in this silken strands. Her hair smelled amazing. She smelled amazing. The perfume she wore was dark and exotic and created visions of satin and silk in his mind.

  Unable to hold out any longer, he flipped her over. Her eyes were dark, smoky with desire. He leaned down, kissed her—a soft, tender kiss filled with sweetness and feeling.

  He brushed her hair from her face and looked into her eyes. “I know it’s crazy. I probably shouldn’t even say this because we just met, but I like you. I mean, I really like you. Beyond all reason and rational thought.”

  She smiled up at him. “I like you, too.”

  “When I met you, it was like this chemistry, like instant attraction. But then I talked to you, spent time with you, got to know you—and you stole my heart. I want you like nothing I have ever wanted before, Addison Cavanaugh.”

  “I feel the same way. Against everything in me that tells me I shouldn’t like you this much, shouldn’t care about you, I still do. We did connect on the plane. I felt it, too. You told me that story about your family and the Christmas tree picnic, and it touched my heart. I think I really fell for you then.”

  She smiled up at him, a smile full of tender emotion. “And now I’m lost. I’m yours. Only yours.” She dug her fingers into his hair, holding the sides of his head as she pulled him down for another kiss. Her voice was soft, but urgent. “I’m yours. So take me.”

  Heart pounding, adrenaline coursing through his veins, he ripped the foil package open, covered himself, and sank into her delicious warmth. Wrapping her in his arms, he held her against him, reveling in the feel of her long legs wrapped around his waist.

  Knowing that she still had on those sexy red heels, and only those red heels, was enough to send him over the edge.

  He moved with her, falling into a rhythm. Time fell away, and it was only the two of them, wrapped in each other’s arms, wrapped in desire and need and tender emotion. Their pace increased until she cried out, her fingers gripping his shoulders, and sent him over the edge.

  Cradling her to him, he kissed her sweetly, lovingly, trying to convey the depths of his feelings in his kiss.

  She touched his cheek and grinned. “That was amazing.”

  He laughed and collapsed on the bed next to her. “Yes, I would have to agree.”

  Sitting up, her hair falling along her bare back, she looked like a goddess. “But we’d better get back to the party before my dad misses us.”

  Her words were like a splash of cold water to his face.

  Holy shit. The party. Her dad. His freaking coach.

  He slid off the bed, scrambling for his pants and yanking them on. He dressed quickly, tossing her the lace bra and panties. “Your dad will kill me if he finds us up here. He could kick me off the team, decide not to accept the trade. Shit. We’ve got to get back downstairs.”

  She hurriedly pulled her clothes on, wriggling the dress into place and tucking her phone back into her bra. “It’s okay. We haven’t been gone that long. I’m sure no one has even missed us. And it’s not like anyone would know what we were doing.”

  Yeah
, right. He took in her kiss-swollen lips, the red rash against her chest from his scruff of beard, her messy hair, and the overall just-been-laid satisfied look on her face, and he knew he was screwed. And not in the good way.

  Not in the amazing mind-blown way that he’d just been screwed, but in the “his career might possibly be over” kind of way.

  Addison stepped into the adjoining bathroom and quickly ran a brush through her hair and swiped at her smudged eye makeup. “Okay, I’m good. We’ll go down the back stairs, then I’ll use the downstairs powder room to freshen up and meet you back in the living room by the fireplace.”

  “Okay.” He’d used the mirror above her dresser to redo his tie and straighten out his jacket. He leaned down, gave her a quick, hard kiss, then opened the door of the bedroom.

  Peering out of the room, he saw the hall was empty, and they hurried out and down the stairs. She gave him a wink and a grin, then disappeared down another hallway. He made his way through the kitchen, grabbing a beer as he rushed through, and took a huge swig just before he stepped back into the main room.

  The noise of the party had risen to a festive level as the champagne had flowed, and Christmas carols played through the speakers strategically placed around the room.

  He pressed into the throng of people, trying to make his way casually across the room. The room was warm, and he’d finished the beer quickly. Stopped several times by people that wanted to chat, it took him fifteen minutes to make his way to where Addison stood by the fireplace.

  But she wasn’t standing there alone.

  McDouche was standing next to her—and way too close—and he had his meaty hand wrapped tightly around her arm. Bane couldn’t tell what he was saying, but he could see the intimidating expression on Trent’s face and the look of frustration on hers.

  What the hell? Anger erupted inside of him, and his hands tightened into fists as he crossed to where they stood.

  Chapter Four

  Addison tried to pull her arm free. “Trent, let go of me. You’re hurting my arm,” she said between gritted teeth.