Game for Seduction

by Bella Andre

  She turned to Hank. "Could you please hold my drink for a moment? I need to speak with my client. I'll be right back."

  Hank nodded, looking between the two of them uncertainly. "Sure thing."

  Melissa led Dominic out of the crowded room, out the back door toward the locker rooms. Stepping inside a freshly painted door, she held it open for Dominic. One of her big fantasies had always been to make love with him in a locker room.

  Tonight, she hoped to turn that dream into a reality.

  Still, she didn't want to make it too easy for him. "I don't know what you're trying to prove, Dominic, but I'm an adult. I can speak for myself."

  The locker room was nearly dark, but for the moonlight coming through the windows above the lockers.

  Dominic was only too willing to play along. With his strong arms, he pinned her against the row of red lockers. "I'm listening," he said in a low voice that made her wet all over again.

  It took every ounce of control she possessed not to start kissing him, running her hands down his muscular frame.

  "Come closer," she said. "I'm only going to say this once."

  He moved closer, his hard chest pressing into her aching breasts. "If I want to date someone else, I'll date him. If I want to have a drink with a guy like Hank, I'm going to."

  Dominic's eyes were black as they bored into her. "No."

  Her heart hammered in her chest. "What gives you the right to say that?"

  The pad of his thumb rubbed erotically against her lower lip. "Because I want you."

  It rubbed across her jaw. "Because I need you."

  It rubbed down into the hollow of her shoulder blades. "Because you're mine."

  She shivered with desire.

  "I've wanted to kiss you all night. I want to take you right here with your legs wrapped around me. I want my cock deep inside you when you come."

  She couldn't breathe. Her knees were shaking.

  "Tell me no," he whispered. "Tell me to go away and I will. It will kill me, but I swear to God I'll leave you alone."

  "Stay," she whispered, and his hand curved around one breast, sending shivers through her entire body. Coming up on her tippy-toes, she pressed a soft kiss on his lips. He tasted like champagne and desire.

  A low groan emerged from his throat. "I'm not going to be able to take my time," he said, then crushed her mouth beneath his.

  His tongue danced with hers as his hands moved down her body. Every spot he touched came alive, and she moved closer to him. His thick erection pressed into her belly, imprinting her with his desire. His palms played with her breasts, but far too quickly they were gone. She wanted them back on her sensitive nipples. One touch, the slightest pressure of his mouth on her breasts, and she'd explode.

  But then she felt him pulling up her skirt, his fingers ripping at her stockings.

  "I can't wait another second," he said. He quickly unzipped his pants and slipped a condom onto his shaft, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist as he lifted her off the floor. He slid into her in one deep stroke, and her back smacked into the metal locker with a loud clang.

  "Dominic," she cried out as his groan of "Jesus" reverberated off the tiled walls and floor, the drumbeat of slamming lockers joining their voices. Again and again he thrust into her, pulling her against him, then taunting her by pulling out to the tip.

  He was fucking her harder than he ever had, and she loved every single second of it, loved making him lose control. Her breasts smacked into the hard wall of his chest with every thrust, and she was so glad she'd worn a thin, lace bra. Even deep in the throes of his orgasm, Dominic shifted her so that his pubic bone rubbed against her clitoris, and a power-ful orgasm surged through her.

  Dominic's shaft grew bigger and bigger as her muscles clenched at him. She wanted to feel him hot and alive inside her, with no rubber sheath between them, but she'd have to be happy with this. Just as he began to come, she kissed him with every ounce of love in her heart. She'd never be able to say the words aloud, but she couldn't stop her body from speaking the truth.

  He held her tightly against him, his rapid heartbeat pounding against hers. "You're coming home with me," he said against her hair. "This doesn't end here."

  Oh yes. She longed to spend the night in his bed, wrapped in his strong arms.

  A voice in her head tried to warn her, telling her to think things through, to stop all the touching and kissing and actually talk to Dominic about his feelings. She slammed the door shut on the unwanted voice of reason. She didn't want reason. Lots and lots more loving was all she wanted.

  Dominic usually enjoyed meeting fans, hanging with fellow players, and working with kids. But this time he couldn't wait to leave and get Melissa naked in his bed.

  Thinking about her lush curves, a new hard-on pushed into his zipper. Good thing he had put his jacket back on.

  "Thanks for a great night," he told the organizers. It was all he could do to keep a pleasant smile on his face when he was picturing Melissa in his bathtub, water runninng over her incredible breasts, her head thrown back in ecstasy as he laved her clit with his tongue.

  They finally escaped to his car, but Dominic knew he wasn't going to make it all the way home. Fifteen minutes was fourteen and a half too many. He whipped out of the parking lot, driving with single-minded purpose.

  Melissa's soft, husky voice wrapped itself around his throbbing cock. "If you're wondering, your house is in the opposite direction."

  He shot her a quick glance filled with promise. "I can't wait that long."

  As she squirmed in her seat, he remembered how wet her pussy was, how ready she was for him to sink into.

  He pulled into a deserted section of Golden Gate Park and turned off his headlights. His black Viper wasn't very roomy, but that was fine. Just like Melissa's pussy: the tighter the fit, the better.

  He pushed a lever beside his seat and it slid back several inches.

  Melissa watched with a half smile on her face. "Lost?" she asked, knowing damn well what he intended, but wanting to tease him before she climbed on his lap for another ride.

  "Turn around," he said.

  She blinked in surprise, but did as he'd asked. He unzipped her skirt, and together they slid it to the floor of the passenger seat. Her panties were still in his jacket pocket, and her sweet pussy was still bare and slick. She was his for the taking, but he wanted her naked first. Her sweater came off next, leaving only her bra. In the dark, he searched for the clasp along her back.

  "It's in the front," she whispered, trembling slightly.

  He smiled against her neck, then kissed her warm skin. She tilted her head to the side to give him better access. His fingers itched to touch her nipples and he slowly ran his hands over her rib cage, under the soft swell of flesh, finally covering her breasts with his hands.

  While one hand undid her bra clasp, the other made its way down into her damp pubic hair, immediately locating the hard nub of her clitoris.

  He wasn't the only one dying to fuck again.

  "Dominic," she whispered as she opened her legs wider so that he could rub his hand against her plump, aroused pussy lips.

  Without warning, he lifted her over the stick shift and pulled her onto his lap. Her back was pressed against his chest, her juicy breasts filling his hands.

  "What are you doing?" she asked in an excited whisper.

  "Trust me," he replied, more insane over this woman's body than he had ever been before in his thirty-six sexually charged years.

  His cock was nestled between her butt cheeks and he caught her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, teasing the stiff peaks until her wetness seeped into the fabric of his pants. One hand still playing with her breasts, he slid the other between her slick pussy lips, slipping and sliding against her clit, her tight, hot passage. She moaned and rocked her hips rhythmically against his hand, inflaming him with every thrust of her lush hips.

  Forcing himself to pull his hand from her pussy,
he grasped her hips and lifted her enough to pull down his zipper. He ripped open the condom wrapper with his teeth and slid it onto his throbbing shaft in a move that spoke of years of experience in nonstandard positions. But every woman who had come before Melissa was long forgotten.

  He didn't waste one more second slipping the head of his cock between her lips, and she moaned with satisfaction. "Dom," she begged, using his nickname for the first time, and his cock surged against her slick folds.

  He nearly plunged all the way forward, high and deep, but he wanted to tease her, to work her back up to a fever pitch before finally giving them both the ultimate pleasure.

  "Not quite yet, sweetheart," he growled as he replaced his cock with his fingertips.

  He'd make sure that she'd never forget tonight. And it was a long time until morning.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Melissa was on fire, the blood in her veins like molten lava, her skin sensitive to the slightest touch. The leather steering wheel chafed her nipples; the stick shift scratched her thighs. His fingers played with her clit even as the head of his penis rubbed deliciously against her aroused flesh. She pressed her ass into his hips, but he was still toying with her. Only giving her one finger, and then two.

  She whimpered, loving the way he touched her, but craving so much more. She wanted his thick cock to spread her wide again, to fill her all the way up.

  She'd never find another man like him, never find someone who made her feel so good, whose body fit hers so perfectly. This knowledge made her throat c log with emotion.

  She was his--all his. No matter how hard she tried to resist him, she went off like a rocket at his slightest touch. She could never love anyone the way she'd always loved him--and always would.

  Her toes tingled, heady vibrations moving quickly past her ankles to her calves. Oh, God, she was coming again. Only this time Dominic was forcing her entire body to submit to his power.

  His cock replaced his fingers so skillfully that it wasn't until she backed into his lap that she realized he was filling her, and she started to come.

  "God, Melissa, you feel so damn good."

  Knowing how much he wanted her, his hands everywhere at once, sent her to an even higher peak. And then she was twisting around in the tiny driver's seat, desperate to kiss him. As his mouth consumed hers, she finally exploded over the edge. Dominic held her hips against his as he shouted out his pleasure, and her inner muscles clenched and pulled against his huge erection.

  She wanted to laugh with joy; she wanted to sob. She didn't know what to say, what to do; being with Dominic had stripped her of her last defenses.

  A loud banging on the roof of the car made her jump with alarm.

  Her limbs were heavy from their explosive love-making, and she awkwardly scrambled off his lap, practically falling headfirst into the passenger seat, her butt sticking up in the air, and dug for her clothes on the floor.

  "Don't worry," Dominic said as he calmly handed her her bra, then her skirt and top. He rubbed away a streak of lipstick on her cheek. "Everything's going to be fine. Let me handle this."

  Dominic turned his key in the ignition and rolled down the fogged-up window. A very stern policeman stared in at them.

  "Good evening, Officer," Dominic said in an even tone.

  "It's awfully late, folks," the officer said, clearly ready to read them the riot act. Then he realized who his offender was, and his expression instantly changed to one of hero worship.

  "Dominic DiMarco?"

  Dominic smiled. "We were just heading home," he said. "Sorry to have disrupted your evening."

  The policeman waved his hand in the air. "No problem. Just remember, in the future this isn't the best place to score."

  Dominic nodded, already raising the window back up. "Thanks. Have a great night."

  "Oh, God," Melissa said as he drove away. "That was too close for comfort. If it got out that I was sleeping with a client, I'd be a laughingstock."

  He didn't say anything, and the silence grew awkward. Had she hurt his feelings? No, that was impossible. She was as much his secret as he was hers.

  Wanting things to go back to the way they'd been before, she teased, "You were pretty smooth there. How many times have you been caught in a car with your pants down?"

  A muscled jumped in Dominic's jaw. "My past mistakes have nothing to do with us. I was just a stupid kid."

  Mistakes? What mistakes? She stroked his arm, joking, "Okay, then, how about I tell you about all the sex I've had with guys in cars?"

  Dominic hit the brakes hard at the Stop sign. Then gripping the stick shift so hard that his knuckles turned white, he shot forward on the dark, empty road. "I want to rip them all limb from limb," he growled. "Use their faces as punching bags."

  It was all she could do not to giggle with glee. "That's not very nice."

  "Where you're concerned, I have trouble being nice." He pulled into his parking garage. "I've never wanted anyone as badly as I want you."

  "Would it make you feel better if I told you you're my first in a car?"

  "I hate thinking of you with other men at all. It drives me crazy."

  She tried to keep her feelings in, but couldn't. "You're the only one who matters."

  Chapter Sixteen

  Spend the night with me, Melissa." Melissa let him thread his fingers through hers. "You make it hard for a girl to say no," she whispered.

  He smiled at her, a seductive flash of white teeth and stubble dusted across a strong jaw. "I'll keep that in mind." He came around to her side of the car and helped her out just as her stomach grumbled.

  "I'm starved, too," he said. "Have you ever eaten spaghetti alla carbonara?"

  She shook her head. "My people walked off the Mayflower. I grew up on Wonder Bread and processed-cheese slices. Kraft macaroni and cheese, if my mother really wanted to spice things up."

  He grinned. "Looks like it's up to me to educate your palate."

  They took the elevator up to his condo and she followed him into his kitchen. Most men she'd been with didn't know the first thing about cooking. They always expected her to whip up something amazing with fifteen minutes' notice. Unfortunately, cooking wasn't part of her skill set. She even burned microwave popcorn. If Dominic could actually cook, it would be one more plus to add to his already long list.

  He uncorked a bottle of red wine. "You prefer merlot, don't you?"

  She nodded, warmed by the fact that he'd noticed. She sat on a leather bar stool and he slid a glass to her across the black granite island. "White wine makes my toes itch," she admitted.

  He raised an eyebrow. "Also good to know." Butterflies hatched in her belly as she wondered what exactly he was going to do with that knowledge. She wiggled her toes as he pulled out eggs and bacon from the stainless-steel fridge and spaghetti from the pantry. Then he grabbed a pot from the gleaming copper rack above the gas range.

  "Where did you learn to cook?" she asked. "My mother could make anything. She was passionate about food." He reached into the fridge, turning his face away from her. "If cooking shows had been invented thirty years ago, she would have been a star."

  Melissa digested this information, wondered about what he wasn't saying. "Was she a full-time mom?"

  He put on water to boil. "My dad died when I was three. She supported us by bagging groceries at the mom-and-pop store around the corner."

  Melissa suddenly remembered a story she'd read about Dominic. After signing his first major-league contract, he'd bought his mother a house. "Were you the youngest?" "Nope, the oldest. My sister is one year younger, my brother just behind her."

  "My God," she said. "Three kids under three. How did your mother do it?"

  He looked uncomfortable. "It was rough at times. She did the best she could."

  Clearly, Dominic didn't want her to probe any deeper. It hurt her feelings that he wouldn't share with her, but at the same time she understood. She wasn't exactly offering up tidbits about her relationship wi
th her father. Besides, she knew Dominic. He was a natural protector. Were it not for his size, he would have been a natural defensive player.

  As a child, he must have tried to assume the role of man of the house. What a big burden that must have been for such a little boy.

  It wasn't unusual for pro athletes to have a chip on their shoulders. So many of them had overcome bad childhoods, rough neighborhoods, little money. But Dominic had never once tried to use his upbringing as an excuse for bad behavior. He was a better man than that. It was one more reason to love him-- one more reason she didn't need.

  Dominic looked like a wild gypsy with his dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin. She wanted desperately to be the mate he would sacrifice everything for. But the truth was that there would come a day when she would see another woman giving him a celebration kiss after a game; maybe even pregnant with his child.

  Suddenly, Melissa hated that woman with a passion.

  She gulped her wine, wishing they could stop talking and get back to bed, where things were simpler. When they were making love she could concentrate on her body and temporarily forget about her heart.

  Dominic never shared family stories with anyone. Not his teammates, none of his coaches, and certainly none of the women he'd dated. Even his brother and sister avoided rehashing their childhoods when they got together, stepping around the fact that their widowed mother had brought home a new guy every month, and that each guy had been more horrible than the last, until she married the biggest asshole of them all.

  His siblings had never thanked him for protecting them from these men; they didn't need to. Someone had had to start making good decisions in their house, because his mother hadn't been able to manage it. So, Dominic had stepped in.

  Then, when he was a senior in high school, his mother chose her dick-wad husband over her kids, and Dominic had thought, Fuck it. He drank and he fucked and he stole cars. He was a hot-shot football player, the big man on campus with a fancy football scholarship to the University of Miami. He was the master of the drunk joyride with a pantyless girl sitting next to him, writhing beneath his fingers on her clit.

  But his lucky breaks had ended late one night just before graduation. Joe had stolen the car, but Dominic was driving. Going a hundred miles an hour made the uncapped bottle of Jim Beam splash onto the leather seats. It was raining and dark, and Dominic had thought he was unstoppable.