Changing the Play

by Julia Blake

  His eyes lingered over the gentle slope of her back. If he just leaned down a little he could kiss his way all the way up it to the nape of her neck—a spot he already knew drove her crazy. “I don’t care,” he choked out.

  Not when he could still taste her on his lips.

  She picked up a teal lace bra that looked promising and dangled it from her fingers. He suppressed a groan. If he wasn’t careful, she’d have him on his knees all over again.

  “I left this place a mess because I thought it’d keep me from bringing you home tonight,” she said.

  When he arched an eyebrow in disbelief, she tossed the bra at his head. He snatched it out of the air and cast it aside with a little smile.

  “It made sense at the time,” she said.

  He nudged a black leather belt out of the way so he could sit next to her. The bed sank under their combined weight, and her head came to rest against his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  “Do you regret taking me home tonight?” he asked.

  He’d go if she asked him to. Every single step that took him away from her would hurt, but he would never begrudge any woman her right to turn a man down. To change her mind. To say no. It’d tear him up inside, but he’d do it gladly if that was what she wanted.

  A soft hand came to rest on his chest. “I’m glad you came home with me tonight. It—” She paused. “It feels like the perfect end to a perfect date.”

  “Rain and all?”

  “Definitely.”

  She raised her chin, offering her lips to him. His hands framed her face, and he traced her mouth with his tongue. She sighed and he kissed her deep and slow.

  Everything went into that kiss. Every ounce of regret that he’d waited this long to start showing her he was worth a shot. Every bit of frustration as the two of them butted heads at work. Every moment of raw desire that tore at him when she walked up, all long legs and full lips, to knock the breath out of him. He poured himself and all of his hope into the play of tongues, lips, and fingers because if this incredible woman slipped through his fingers after he’d been granted a second chance, he’d be lost.

  Rachel pushed him back onto the duvet. Their lips never parted as she came to her knees next to him.

  His cock twitched when Rachel slung her strong, lean legs over him to straddle his stomach. The muscles of her thighs pressed into his sides. She was still wet from his mouth and from her, and the slickness rubbed against his stomach. This woman would undo him.

  He broke their kiss and pushed up onto his elbows until his mouth was on her right breast. His tongue darted out to tease her nipple. That earned him a gasp as it peaked into a tight bud.

  A sly grin spread across his face. She was sensitive here too. Good to know.

  Again, he flicked at her nipple. Her back arched and she moaned low. More than happy to give her what she wanted, he sucked it into his mouth and gently cupped her other breast as he roughed the delicate skin of her nipple with his teeth.

  Rachel groaned and her eyes fluttered open. Their eyes locked, and he nearly went light-headed at the sight of her—hair cascading around her shoulders and lips parted.

  Fucking gorgeous.

  He let her nipple slide between his lips and kissed his way along to the other so he could pay it the same kind of attention. Her body rocked with each suck now. Nick slipped his hand between the two of them and found her clit. She was hot and swollen, and he wanted to be inside her. Now.

  As though reading his mind, she panted, “Condom. Nightstand drawer.”

  She slung her leg off him so he could roll over and wrench the drawer open. The contents were neat and ordered. Purple-wrapped condoms already separated from their perforated edges sat stacked one on top of each other. Shocker, he thought with a grin. He snatched one up and rolled on top of her.

  “Ouch!” she cried out.

  He shifted his weight. “What is it?”

  She squirmed under him, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut tight to control himself. “Rachel—”

  “Got it!”

  His eyes shot open. She held a wide leather belt up like a trophy.

  “Maybe we should clear the bed,” he said.

  “Deal.”

  They tossed the rest of the clothes on the floor as quickly as they could. Then Rachel dropped back into the plush linens, fixed him with a look, and opened her legs wide. There wasn’t a hint of reservation in her eyes.

  Thank God.

  He ripped open the package and rolled the condom onto his cock. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him down to her lips. He dragged out a long kiss as he nudged against her sex. Her hips edged up, and her tongue raked over his, encouraging him.

  In one smooth motion, he buried himself in her.

  “Yes,” she inhaled as he strained against the sheer, mind-numbing pleasure.

  She gripped around him as he eased out of her. It was almost too much. He tried to push some of the sensation aside, but it could only be a losing battle. The only thing that would make this better was more Rachel. He slid into her as deep as he could and lost himself when she tightened around him.

  Her hips matched him, driving him on. Her hands flew to his shoulders when he quickened the pace. The little red marks she’d already branded him with protested. He hardly noticed. Later—when they’d satiated this passion for a time—he’d search for all of the secret places that made her pant and squirm. But not now. Now they claimed each other hot and fast.

  Every thrust pushed him deeper into her. She was slick and wet and all his. She just didn’t know it yet. It was as though he’d been living in a haze for years and had finally woken up to one goal. One woman. This woman, the one who was writhing underneath him, thrusting her hips in that steady, fast rhythm that told him that she’d always be able to keep up with him.

  He dropped a kiss to the crook of her neck and let himself breathe her in, trying to remember exactly what she smelled like, sounded like, looked like when she was this deep into the throes of passion. He wanted to hold on to this memory forever. It was the first time, but he was determined to make sure that it wasn’t the last time. He didn’t think he’d be able to survive if it was.

  The bite of Rachel’s nails told him she was close. He looked down, their eyes locking for a moment. Then she squeezed them shut, bucked up against him, and came apart with a shout. He drove into her faster now as she moaned his name over and over. Just when she began to slow, he felt his own orgasm approach. He pushed up on his elbows—changing the angle just a bit—and he was there. He moaned her name and lost himself, body and soul.

  He collapsed on top of her, blissfully happy to be wrapped in her arms. He should shift his weight, but his brain refused to fire at full capacity. Instead he buried his nose in her soft hair again and breathed in flowers and fresh soap. He’d never forget that combination no matter how long he lived because this was the moment he started to fall.

  RACHEL WAS certain she’d regain the capacity for coherent thought again soon. Probably. For now she’d just lie there, half-crushed by the weight of the man on top of her. Her right foot cramped like crazy. Her hair probably looked like it hadn’t seen a brush in three days. She and Nick were both sticky with each other’s sweat.

  It was fucking fantastic.

  With a groan, he finally pushed up to sitting. He stole some of her bliss as he moved away, pulling out of her and leaving her empty. The need to be full of him again was so violent, her eyes snapped open. Never before had she felt the loss of a man’s touch so acutely, but then she’d never had a man like Nick.

  She watched him dispose of the condom and pad back to bed, suspicious of the riot of emotions roiling through her. She couldn’t help that she stiffened when Nick climbed onto the bed and gathered her to him. Postcoital cuddling wasn’t something she’d ever really done. Then again, s
he didn’t let men into a messy bedroom either.

  All of this was new to her. She didn’t know how she was going to handle this, and that in and of itself was a first. She was an agent. She always knew what to do.

  That was probably the scariest thought of all. This was uncharted territory. If it went wrong—when it went wrong—it could hurt.

  She’d spent too much time trying to get over Nick Ruben in high school. She didn’t want to do it again in her thirties.

  “Rachel?” Nick’s breath stirred her hair.

  She pursed her lips but then forced herself to ask, “Yes?” trying to play cool like nothing was bothering her.

  “It’d be really nice if you could relax.”

  She cringed, caught red-handed. “I’m not very good at this part.”

  “What part is that?” A happy sleepiness laced his voice.

  I did that. I was the one who made him sound that blissed-out, and I want to do it again and again.

  She shrugged and stared out the window at the lights in the building across the street. “The after-sex part.”

  A laugh rumbled through him. “How do you figure?”

  “I don’t really like being touched afterward. It just feels like delaying the inevitable. Most of the time I’m waiting for a guy to go, so I can get back to work.”

  “Should I leave?” he asked. His words held more curiosity than disappointment.

  “No. Don’t do that.”

  Still, she frowned. She didn’t want him to go. That was the whole problem. Lying in his arms felt good.

  Nick brushed his lips against the nape of her neck—a simple, intimate gesture that seemed to come naturally to him. “Good. You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”

  Nick continued to trail the tips of his fingers over her body, stroking the dip of her waist over and over again. The motion lulled her, and she gave in to the pure luxury of it. For a little while, she wouldn’t think about the contracts she needed to review and the emails she should send out. No press releases lurked in the back of her mind. Her clients even started to drift away. Nick managed to shut off the countdown clock that continually ticked away in her head.

  He kissed the exposed nape of her neck and murmured into her skin, “Better?”

  “Better.”

  She stretched out against him, tucking herself into the hinge of his body. It turned out there was something to be said for postcoital cuddling, especially when she could feel him half-cocked against her back.

  “Good,” he said. “Tell me something no one else knows.”

  “I want to start my own agency.”

  A shot of nerves skittered through her. She’d never actually said that out loud before. She hadn’t expected Nick to be the one who got that confession from her. Emma, yes. Maybe Louise. Not Nick.

  “What will you call it?” he asked.

  “I was thinking something like Game Changer Sports Management,” she said cautiously, turning in his arms so she could look into his eyes.

  He brushed away a strand of hair from her forehead. “I think that’s perfect.”

  Relief flooded through her. She was glad she’d told him. It made all of those ambitions she’d kept quiet seem more real.

  “How many clients could you bring over?” he asked.

  “Enough. I manage my list independently from Rob, so there’s a good chance that those who could follow me would. Off the record, most of Rob’s clients actually hate him and I don’t think many of mine would want him for representation.”

  “Your clients would be idiots not to follow you,” said Nick. “Is that why you’re so protective of Kevin?”

  Her breath caught in her throat. “Protective?”

  “Like a mother bear with her cub.” His tone might be light, but she could still see the sharp curiosity as he studied her.

  “I haven’t done anything I wouldn’t do for my other clients,” she said.

  A partial truth. Kevin was the only client who needed the levels of deception she’d gone to.

  “I’m not criticizing you,” Nick said.

  A long beat stretched out between them. This time it was Rachel who nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just, you’re a reporter. You’re the reporter.

  “Kevin’s a high-potential draft pick, and that’s going to make me and Image a lot of money. But more important, he’s a good kid. He works his ass off, and he comes from a nice family. They deserve a good break.”

  That was all Nick was getting. They might be in bed, but he was still a journalist and she was an agent. There had to be boundaries.

  If he noticed her tension, he didn’t mention it. Instead he rolled her on her back in one smooth motion. “Are you going to keep giving me a hard time about this story?”

  She laughed as he pressed his lips to the valley between her breasts. “What kind of agent would I be if I didn’t?”

  His expression became serious. “I promise I won’t ask you for any special treatment.”

  “I wouldn’t give you any,” she said lightly.

  “I’m serious. We’re already treading on gray area here, sleeping together and working together.”

  “And so you want me to be tough on you?” she asked.

  “As tough as you were planning to be when you first turned me down in that bar.”

  She looped her arms around his neck. “I think I can do that. I hear I’ve got a reputation.”

  “As the best,” he said.

  She laughed. “Okay, your turn. Tell me something no one else knows.”

  He huffed out a breath. “I don’t know if this counts because a few people know, but I think my company is trying to cut me. There were layoffs last year.”

  She stilled. Layoffs were terrifying in any industry, but especially television with its wild contraction since the markets crashed at the start of the Great Recession and media companies began shedding jobs like it was their business. “I know.”

  “Everyone at NYSN is at risk of getting axed if there’s another round of cuts—and there will be more cuts,” he said.

  “But you’ve won awards,” she said. “You report and you fill in on the anchor desk so often, they might as well make it permanent. Wouldn’t they want to keep you on?’

  He looked more than a little embarrassed. “My, ah, tabloid appearances got me too much attention from management. My news director thinks I’m a distraction.”

  “Nick . . .”

  “I just want to prove I’m not some dumb jock who lucked into a job.”

  She reared back. “Who said that?”

  He gave her a little crooked smile. “The voice in my head that kept me from calling you all those years.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Nick rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. “I needed to show everyone including myself I didn’t need your help. You were brilliant—you are brilliant—and I’m that guy who should’ve been drafted but wound up with a bum elbow, a job in TV, and a gossip column problem I can’t seem to shake. I need to make this story happen because I need to know I can prove my own worth at the station.”

  When she cupped his cheek, Nick leaned into her touch, and the space around her heart grew a little bit bigger.

  “So that’s why you pushed so hard to interview Kevin. You need the story so you can guarantee your job,” she said.

  “And Mindy’s job. And Chris’s too. They’re working just as hard, but I’m the face in front of the camera. If this goes badly, then I won’t be able to do a damn thing to save them from getting dragged down with me.”

  “But if it goes well . . .”

  “Then we’re all safe. Probably. I can’t see them cutting us if the story gets national attention.”

  She pursed her lips, weighing her next words carefully. “Even if you escape this
next round, you need another plan. Who knows what they’ll do to you in a year. You should start looking at jobs outside of NYSN. You could go national if you wanted to. You’ve got the talent for it.”

  He rolled over on his side again. “Is Rachel Pollard strategizing my career?”

  Her mouth opened to protest, but then she closed it. “It’s kind of hard to turn off the agent thing.”

  His hand slid up from her shoulder to her cheek. “And it’s hard for me to turn off the reporter thing too. I’ve got a ton of questions I want to ask, but I’m trying my hardest to remember that we’re in bed together right now.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “We could fix that.”

  His eyes darkened. “I’m open to suggestions.”

  She caught him behind the neck with one hand, drawing him up against her again. Her lips found his, and she fell back into the heady mix of arousal and need that she’d swum in before. He kept the kiss slow and steamy, never hurrying up no matter how much she urged him on. But when she sucked on his lip, he broke away and pressed his forehead to hers.

  “Tell me to go, Rachel,” he said, his eyes shut tight. “If you don’t, I won’t leave this bed for days.”

  “No sleepovers on the first date,” she said. “House rule.”

  He drew a line along her jaw with the tip of his finger. “Just tell me that you’ll let me see you again.”

  She cast her head back against the pillow and laughed. “Nick, you’re naked in my bed.”

  The intensity of his gaze stole her breath. “I don’t just want to get naked with you, Rachel. I want to get to know you. If you’re not ready to call it dating, you can call it something else. But you should know that dates will be involved.”

  “Oh,” she said.

  He picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Just promise me you’ll think about it.”

  Stunned, she watched him climb out of bed and pick through the maze of dresses on her floor. Then he walked out the door. He wanted to do this again. To see her. To date her. That didn’t sound like the guy who wound up in Page Six.

  Rachel was up like a shot. She snagged the peach robe hanging on the back of her bathroom door and followed him. In the living room, Nick was stooping to grab his boxer briefs and slide them on. When he turned to her, his face fell.