by Lynda Aicher
She cocked her head, squinting at him. “I was thinking a complete spa day next.” His eyes went wide. Yeah, that worked as a mood changer. “Including seaweed wrap, facial, mani and pedi. The works.”
“Oh, hell no.” His head was swiveling with adamant denial. “The team masseuse is as close to a spa as you’re going to get me. Period.”
She maintained a straight face for a moment longer before she chuckled. That was better. Safer.
His eyes narrowed as he drew his shoulders back. “That was a joke.”
She nodded, flashing a smile with it. “Yes.”
“Good.” He slumped back in his chair, rubbing the back of his head. A move that showed off the expanse of his chest. “I had a bad flashback for a second. There was actually a woman in my past who insisted I needed a full pedicure before I could put my feet near her. Needless to say, my feet were running away from her after that statement.”
“Now I’m curious,” she said around her dying chuckles. “What’s so scary about your feet?”
“Thirty years of almost daily skating takes its toll on our bodies. Our feet are not excluded.”
And they were back to hockey. Dang it. “Good thing it doesn’t screw up your mind, because you’re going to need it if we want to win tonight.”
His frown was quick and slight, but she still caught it before his smile was back. What’d she say? “You think we really have a chance against Team Enterprise over there?”
“Definitely.”
“Your faith in my untapped knowledge is flattering.” He slipped out of his chair, pointing toward the restroom sign. He paused next her as he passed, leaning in to speak into her ear. “And hot.” He trailed his hand down her arm, a teasing touch that succeeded in sending another rush of desire through her.
She watched him move through the room and caught more than a few others tracking his path to the restrooms. Both women and men. Some with dreamy looks, others with scowls. He definitely stood out in this crowd, but then she expected he would just about anywhere.
It was his presence. Confident without arrogance. Attractive without conceit.
She was in so much trouble. Way past resisting him, it was now a matter of how hard she fell and how much the landing would hurt.
Chapter Eight
Scott wrapped his arm around Rachel’s shoulder, holding her close to keep her warm in the evening chill. It was really an excuse to have her tight to his side. His knee ached, like always, but it was only a lingering irritant he’d managed to ignore all night.
“That was fun,” he said, meaning it. “Even though we were clearly outmatched.” It’d kept his mind off his shit day when he hadn’t been sure if that was really possible.
Their steps were slow as they walked to his truck. Overhead lights were scattered around the parking lot, and people streamed past them in the post-game exodus, hurrying to their cars. It was after ten and a work night for most. A solid reason to get home.
He was searching for ways to keep the night going.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
She’d wrapped her arm around his waist, their steps matching in natural synchronicity. Like so much about them, they just seemed to work together.
“How could I not?” Both the crowd and trivia questions had sparked many laughs and heated debates. “I can honestly say I’ve never been to anything like that.”
“And I don’t think we did so badly,” she said, nudging him. “Considering our competition.”
They’d reached his truck, and the last thing he wanted to do was let her go. Actually, taking her home was the very last thing he wanted to do. They were directly under a light, the yellow glow casting shadows over the angles of her face. The blue tips of her hair were muted but no less stunning. He could say the same about her deep brown eyes.
Uncaring of who was around, he drew her into a kiss. He’d been thinking of doing that for the last three hours. One touch of her slightly parted lips against his wasn’t enough. He had a feeling it would never be enough. It hadn’t been since their very first kiss.
He deepened the touch, swiping his tongue into her mouth to catch the lingering spice of her dinner and the sweet taste of her. His blood hummed with a need he’d ignored for years and his body reacted. The urgency to have her was driving him forward when he should retreat.
She swept her tongue into his mouth, asserting her desire in a way that was both aggressive and enticing. Her low moan raced down his spine to grip his balls and harden his cock.
It had him wishing and wondering. Could it be different with her? Would his body behave and give him this? He’d only taken one pain pill in the restroom earlier with the hope it’d be enough to contain the pain without hindering the release he needed even more.
He eased back before he ravished her against the truck, damn who was around. Or had a camera. Shit. He couldn’t do that to her. Nor did he want that kind of attention for himself. No one had approached him for an autograph inside, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been recognized.
Her eyes fluttered open, her dazed look mirroring his own internal jumble of surprise and want. That hadn’t changed since that first kiss either.
“Where are you on that naked-in-bed possibility?” he asked, unsure of what he hoped to hear.
She studied him, the silence broken by the heckling laughter behind them. Fortunately, it wasn’t at them, but between two of the trivia teams that had a very apparent rivalry. Team Gryffindor and Enterprise had battled for the win in all three rounds.
She ran a hand down his chest, a light trail of fingertips that seared though his cotton shirt. “I think it’s something I’d regret if I didn’t get to experience it.” The lower timbre of her voice wound him in and drowned his niggling fears.
“Any chance of that happening tonight?” There was an element of bumbling teen bounding around within him, one he barely remembered yet immediately recognized. He was jittery with excitement, heart beating too fast.
“Where do you live, Scott?”
“In the burbs, outside of St. Paul.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.” The very thought that she’d come home with him, spend the night and keep the echoes away, had him almost groaning with want.
A breeze fluttered the ends of her hair, and he was certain she’d say no the longer the silence drew out. At last, she pulled her phone out of her small purse, tapped at the screen a few times. “Give me your address.”
He rattled if off without question. He had nothing to hide and his admiration rose once again.
Her fingers moved over the screen. “I sent it to Carter,” she said, not looking up.
“That was smart of you.” And another plus in her favor. She was being cautious and careful. Something more women should be. The offers he’d received from numerous women over the years to come home with him were too many to count. And none of them had given a moment’s hesitation to where he lived or what could’ve happened once they were there—besides consensual sex.
“So you live in the burbs.” She glanced up, smiling as she tucked her phone away. “I’m looking forward to seeing your home.”
Fuck yes. He swooped in to press a long kiss to her mouth, if only to avoid the inappropriate fist pump that was his first juvenile reflex. Her laughter bubbled under his lips, a light tingle that had him easing back, smiling. “Consider it an unplanned excursion on our tour.”
He took her broad smile as an unspoken confirmation that this was so right. But then, he’d been sensing that since he’d first offered her a seat on that dark balcony.
He unlocked his truck and opened the door for her before she could change her mind. Of course she still could at any time, and he’d be fine with that too. This thing between them was too exciting to ruin with reckless sex. She was so far from a one-off that he was proceeding on tenuous ground.
“Who said it was unplanned?” she asked, her voice light with mischief before he closed the door. Shit. He shook his head and
hurried to the driver’s seat. Getting home was quickly becoming urgent.
The ride back to his house was ripe with anticipation. It strung between them in his dark cab, an invisible sizzle that danced over his skin and vibrated beneath the low notes of the rock song that played from the stereo.
He held her hand for most of the drive, a small connection that kept his blood heated and his dick at half-mast until he pulled into his tree-lined drive. His house sat on five acres of mostly wooded land and was hidden from the road. The privacy had been one of its primary draws when he’d purchased it. At the time, he never anticipated it’d eventually become claustrophobic.
The two-story brick house was revealed when they cleared the last curve. Even in the dark with only a couple of floodlights shining on the circular driveway and front pathway, it was impressive. Not in an obnoxious way—at least, he didn’t think so. But its unique lines among the woodland setting and landscaped lawn gave it a wow factor that people commented on.
She leaned forward, neck arching to take it in. “It’s beautiful.” Her soft praise had his held breath expelling. Her opinion mattered. That she understood what’d drawn him to it was another sign of how right they were together. “I imagine it’s even more gorgeous in the daylight.”
It was, but he didn’t say that. He parked the car in the garage, nervous now that they’d arrived. His palm was damp where he gripped the steering wheel and his stomach swirled with a mix of worry and expectation.
Don’t stress. Don’t overthink. Don’t fuck it up.
Those words repeated in his mind as he clasped her hand in his and led her inside. The garage entry opened into a mudroom before it flowed into a hall that passed the kitchen and emptied into the great room.
He flicked on lights as he went until they came to the two-story room that stretched off the open kitchen. The back wall was mostly glass, a wall of black right now that offered an amazing view of the woodland setting during the day.
A brick fireplace dominated the other wall with cozy leather furniture positioned to absorb its warmth while watching the flat screen mounted above it. Plants were nestled in the corners—maintained by his housekeeper—and nature artwork was scattered on the walls. Overall, it was inviting, despite the lofty ceiling and sparse décor. He was more of a minimalist, preferring to let the outdoor beauty dictate the space.
Rachel took it all in, head swiveling from the high-end kitchen, past the granite island to the large dining table that could easily seat ten people, enough for his entire family plus room to grow. Her smile flexed from awe to appreciation when she finally settled her gaze on him. “Again, I can’t wait to see it in the daylight. I imagine the view and lighting are amazing.”
They were. He spent most of his time in this room for that reason.
“Does that mean you’ll be here in the morning?” He hoped so, but again, he didn’t want to presume. Coming here didn’t equal spending the night.
She set her purse on the island then turned to him, head tilted. A smile teased her lips, one he wanted to kiss away and get lost in. “I guess that depends on how good your tour is.”
A challenge and a dig. God, he loved it. His blood hummed with possibilities as his smile grew. He pulled her in, cupped the back of her head and paused with his lips a breath from hers. Her eyes had darkened to a rich chocolate and he caught the hitch in her breath before it ghosted over his skin.
“You’ll have to rate it when it’s over.” He closed his mouth over hers, not giving her a chance to respond. There were more important things to discuss, ones that didn’t involve words.
Her breasts were soft against his chest. Firm yet giving, like her lips. As much as he wanted to crush her to him, drive his tongue deep and plunder her mindless, he held back. They’d slow danced their way to this moment and he wasn’t about to rush it now. No matter how hard his dick was or how crazy with desire she drove him. The clarity of her taste and touch stole through him, unmuddled by drugs. That in itself lent a purity to their exchange he wanted to savor.
He made a last pass through her mouth then eased back. The loss was a tangible slice through his chest to his groin. Fuck, he was so gone.
He pressed his lips to her temple to catch his breath and lasso his restraint. The fruity scent of her hair mingled with that elusive hint of her perfume. It burrowed into his senses to slowly drive him insane with longing.
It certainly didn’t help to cool his lust.
“Do you want something to drink?” he asked. “Or would you like a tour of upstairs?” His heart pounded out a response to his own question, yet the choice was hers.
She rubbed her hands over his back, up then down. The caress sent a wave of desire sparking straight to his groin. Her breath heated the sensitive skin of his neck before she pressed a kiss to it.
Shit. He barely controlled the shiver that raced beneath his flesh. His chin lifted on its own, a silent request for more.
“I’m not thirsty,” she said, lips mouthing her response over his skin.
He swallowed, an effort that worked his throat, which had gone remarkably dry. He found her mouth again, the sweet heat too good to stay away from. He licked and suckled her lower lip, tangled his fingers in her hair and got lost in the rightness of the moment.
Enjoyed that last cusp before intent shifted to fulfillment.
She pulled away first, gasping in short inhales for the air he’d stolen. Desire pooled in her eyes when she studied him, a flame that burned within him yet was somehow still contained. Her voice rasped when she spoke. “Show me the upstairs, Scott.”
His dick twitched and he had to clear his throat before he could speak. He cupped her jaw, still somewhat amazed at the depth of emotion she drew from him. Hope, want, desire, fear, need, regrets—they were all there, fighting for dominance.
Instead of responding, he ran his hand down her arm to clasp her fingers. He flicked on the stairway lights before turning off the ones downstairs. Their footsteps were silent on the carpeted stairs and upper landing. A small alcove overlooked the great room, but he didn’t pause to show it to her.
Three guest rooms and two baths were also ignored on their trek to the master suite. He skipped the overhead light when they entered, opting for the softer glow of the bedside lamp. Her hand was still warm in his, a promise of more.
He turned back to her and that was where he stalled.
His breath caught, her beauty taking him back when he should be plunging forward. The lamplight gave her cheeks a golden glow beneath the flushed hue. Her lips were red, plump and parted in subtle invitation. But it was her eyes that trapped him, reflecting back his own jumbled emotions. Like before, he was caught in the importance. In the distinction of difference that spun around everything they did.
He released his hold to gently cup her face in his hands. His eyes held hers until their mouths met. The featherlight brush of lips quickly deepened to a panting scramble. Blood roared in his ears, his pulse kicked into high and his head spun with the dizzying need to consume her before she disappeared.
He jerked his mouth from hers to trail kisses down her jaw and around her ear. It was an attempt to slow down as well as savor.
Remember.
Cherish the moment and her.
He didn’t allow doubts to intrude. Refused to acknowledge the fear knocking in the back of his mind. Blanked out the twinge of pain that darted up his thigh when he bent his knees to find the hollow of her throat.
Focus on her. Show her how special she was. How amazing she made him feel.
He pushed her sweater from her shoulders, followed the material down her arms until it dropped to the floor. The lace top was a swirl of cream flowers imprinted on a delicate material. Feminine. Alluring.
He skimmed his hands under the hem of her blouse, her abdomen warm beneath his palms when he found it. She sucked in a breath, muscles contracting under his touch. Damn. He nipped at her ear, sucked a path down her arched neck and grazed his hands up her slender s
ides. Each dip and rise of her ribs then breast memorized.
“Scott,” she breathed, a note close to a whimper. Beautiful in its own right.
She lifted her arms when he leaned back. Her shirt was discarded in an easy swipe over her head. He took a long drag of air, eyes locked on the creamy swells of her breasts over the lace of her bra. Scalloped along the edge, the lace seemed to dance with each breath. Her coral nipples were hazy behind the material, temptations he couldn’t fully see but were clearly peaked.
Shit. His dick was a hard peg trapped beneath his briefs and he ached to relieve some of the building pressure that throbbed in his balls. But his needs were secondary. His erection would last, his orgasm would build. And maybe, if the stars remained aligned, he’d come buried deep within her.
Something he hadn’t done in almost two years.
Chapter Nine
Heat flushed through Rachel, her body a lightning rod of desire. Every touch of Scott’s hands or lips ignited another rush of sparks that vibrated over her skin and sunk into her core.
She was lost in the sensations and didn’t want to be found.
She’d split from her last boyfriend almost a year ago. But nothing she’d ever done with any guy had lit her up like this. The warmth of Scott’s breath through the sheer lace of her bra over her hard nipple had her moaning for more. It was a jolt of ecstasy that reached straight to her clenching sex.
His mouth closed over a nub, the material an aggravating obstruction that also stimulated. His tongue swirled over the tip, little skims of wetness that were sharper where the lace was thinner.
She gripped his shoulders, head falling back as she offered herself to him. He worshiped first one then the other breast before he found the back clasp and removed the garment. Cold air rushed in to bead her nipples even tighter, then his mouth was back, sucking and needling each tip into aching points.
It was almost too much. She slid a hand through the back of his hair, silky softness she clung to. His teeth closed around one oversensitive bud, pulled until a shot of pain radiated through her chest. She cried out, a high pitch that wavered as he flicked his tongue over it, pain morphing to a pleasurable mix. Her legs trembled before she locked her knees.
