Tackling Her Heart

by Alexandra O'Hurley

  When she lifted her gaze, she could see into the bedroom where a large four-postered bed was turned back and ready for whoever would slip under the luxurious covers. Did Marc sleep naked? Would he slide into those silky looking sheets, his skin bare, his muscled body slowly relaxing as he drifted off to sleep?

  Or were his intentions as she assumed? Would he be drawing her into those sheets with him with the goal of having his wicked way with her? Her pulse jumped, sweat breaking out along the back of her neck.

  Didn’t he have a house here in Baltimore? Why the room? Did he get this simply for her? The questions came a mile a minute, and she didn’t even know where to begin, especially since most of them were completely inappropriate.

  “Have a seat,” Marc said as he found his way to the small bar. “Can I get you something?”

  “Water,” she replied, setting her leather satchel on the floor next to one of the chairs. She sat, in a chair to keep her distance, and dug out her notepad and recorder while he made himself another drink.

  Marc walked over and handed her a chilled bottle, then sat down on the settee. The furniture was elegant, with graceful lines. It looked too delicate to hold his large body, and she wondered if the thin legs wobbled under his massive size.

  He sat there, drinking, and regarding her as well. What was going through his head? She’d give anything to know what he was thinking right at that moment.

  “Where do you want to begin?” she asked after turning on her recorder, her pen at the ready.

  Marc leaned over and turned off her recorder. “We haven’t discussed price yet.”

  What was he playing at? “What is your price, then?”

  Marc drained his glass and leaned forward to deposit it on the coffee table. “I want a kiss for every answer. My choice of when and where the kiss occurs, and what type of kiss. And the questions are limited to this incident. Everything else is off limits.”

  Kisses? He was toying with her. She closed her notebook and threw it into her bag along with her recorder before standing. “Have a nice evening, Mr. Anders.”

  “Would kissing me be so terrible?”

  She stopped midway to the door, not able to face him. Of course kissing him wouldn’t be terrible. Sofia had dreamed of doing it over and over again, but she wasn’t going to be forced into subjecting herself to his whims for the sake of a story. That wasn’t the kind of reporter she was.

  “Well, would it?”

  Sofia jumped. He had spoken right into her ear, sneaking up close without her realizing he’d even moved. She turned around to face him, wondering if he’d spot the lie or not. “I don’t want to kiss you.”

  “Liar,” he said, a wicked smile on his lips. Her gaze was attracted to those lips, wondering what they’d feel like against her own. “You want me to kiss you even now.”

  Sofia narrowed her eyes and glared at him. “I won’t kiss you to get a story.”

  Marc stepped slightly closer, their bodies a hairsbreadth apart. She could feel the heat of him against her, warming her. His lips hovered inches from hers and looked so inviting.

  “But you do want me to kiss you.”

  It was a statement of fact, not a question. And he was right. “No, I don’t,” she declared, even as she felt herself tilting closer to him. Her lips parted, and she wet them nervously.

  He leaned down slightly, his mouth closing in on hers. She released a slight sigh and closed her eyes, ready for him to kiss her senseless.

  And she waited.

  The kiss never came.

  She opened her eyes and stared up at him. Marc was still close, but had backed off some. He watched her intently, observing her every emotion. Sofia felt as if he was reading her like a book.

  “I always thought you were the type of woman to reach out and grab what she wanted,” he said lowly, his voice laden with innuendo.

  “I am. I haven’t let anyone get in the way of something I wanted.”

  “You want me, but you’re being timid right now,” he replied.

  “Timid?” Sofia the reporter wasn’t timid. Sofia the meek girl hiding behind the glamorous mask was. Marc couldn’t see that part of her, or he’d win, for sure. She grabbed his head and planted a kiss on those lips of his, and then pulled back from him. “There, was that timid?”

  The kiss had been quick, almost chaste. She’d only done it to prove to him she wasn’t timid. What she hadn’t realized was she’d just given him an invitation to kiss her back. His eyes darkened, the pupils enlarging as he stared down at her. Marc looked hungry as he gazed at her, and that hunger spoke to her deep down.

  Marc grabbed the back of her head in one massive palm and brought her lips closer to his. When he planted his own kiss on her, it wasn’t chaste. It wasn’t a quick kiss to prove he wasn’t timid. The kiss he gave her was the claiming kind, the kind that makes a woman dizzy and makes it hard for her to breathe.

  As soon as his mouth touched hers, she knew he’d won the battle and her defenses would crumble as if they’d not even been there. Marc swept his tongue across her bottom lip, tasting her and urging her to open wider to him. She complied, letting him taste the depths of her. His tongue warred with hers as they drew closer together.

  He was giving her a Kissing 101 lesson. He knew just the right pressure to give without forcing his tongue into her mouth. And he knew just the right amount of tongue in between aggressive nips at her lips. Any man who knew how to kiss was perfect in her book. Attach those lips to Marc Anders and she was done for.

  Sofia could feel his stiff cock against her belly, and she secretly thrilled at the fact he was hard—for her. She pressed her body closer, wanting to feel more of it, to feel him throbbing against her. Her own body pulsed, her clit aching between her legs. Sofia wanted to reach down and touch herself, to make the ache disappear. Instead, she dug her fingers into his shirt and held on before she embarrassed herself with the heights of her desire.

  How many nights had she dreamed of a moment just like this? Marc Anders had been a household name in her native Argentina for some reason. Her countrymen preferred futbol to American football, but there was a growing group of NFL fanatics in her homeland thanks to satellite television and the Internet. She’d watched a game with her brother one night, and Marc had taken off his helmet, then looked into the camera, capturing her attention. That night he’d spurred a crush into the stratosphere.

  Eight years later and she was in his arms and he was kissing her.

  Marc moved his other hand to her lower back, drawing her ever closer to him. Molded against one another, she fit him perfectly.

  All the daydreams had never prepared her for how good it would truly feel in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he continued to kiss her. Marc angled them closer to the settee, pulling them both down so she almost lay over his huge body.

  He finally pulled away from the kiss, staring up at her. He reached into his collar and opened the top button of his shirt, loosening his tie before he sat up straighter to capture her mouth again. As he kissed her, he removed his sports coat and tossed it across the room, then tugged at his tie until it, too, disappeared.

  Marc drew her jacket off, baring her shoulders. Underneath she only wore a cami. Without her jacket, she felt almost naked compared to him, but when his hands traveled up and down her arms, his warmth stoked the fires of need once more.

  Sofia started unbuttoning the shirt he wore, the need she felt for him overriding the common sense screaming in the back of her head. She’d dreamed of having him, and that seemed good enough reason to go through with whatever this was between them.

  A one-night stand with The Iceman?

  He sure didn’t feel cold and emotionless at the moment. Marc had made her feel hotter than she could ever recall feeling.

  But then, this was lust, pure and simple. There were no true feelings involved.

  Could she live with that? She wasn’t the type to jump into bed with any man she met, and she sure as hell di
dn’t make a habit of fucking the sports heroes she reported on. Confusion crept into her mind as she suddenly realized the ramifications of what she was about to do.

  Marc pressed a finger against her clit, and conscious thought left her. He circled the nub through the fabric of her plain cotton panties, and she wasn’t able to come up with a rational reason for him to stop touching her. A moan swept from her lips, and he swallowed the sound, his kisses ensorcelling her. Sofia closed her eyes, rocking against his hand as he coaxed more cream to weep from her folds.

  “You’re so hot,” Marc said against her lips. “You’re burning my hand.”

  Sofia shuddered, knowing it was him that heated her so.

  Marc pulled her panties away and slipped a finger through her folds. He eased his thumb back into place at her clit, circling the hot nub skin to skin, the contact pushing her to extremes. Marc seemed able to play her body as if it were his own creation. He knew exactly how to kiss her, where to stroke, and how hard. She rode his hand, the tension building in her body. Sofia knew her orgasm loomed, and she knew she needed the release he could give her.

  When he used his other hand to press against her bottom, she clenched against him. The sensation was foreign, but she was surprised how good his finger felt against the tight puckered hole. The more he prodded her, the more pressure she felt. He continued to rub her clit as his other hand started to stretch her rear. The tight band of nerves relaxed enough for him to press the tip of his finger into her, but the sensation was strangely erotic. She felt filled in a way she’d not expected, and her pussy clenched, jealous of the taboo touches.

  Marc pressed a little deeper into her ass, and the edge of pain sliced through the pleasure. That hint of pain was enough to push her over the edge and she came in a rush, her body stiffening against his urging fingers. She screamed her release into his mouth, letting his kisses swallow her desire.

  Before she could completely come down from her high, a knock sounded at the door. Marc frowned, but gently rolled her to the settee and rose to his feet. He paused at the bar to quickly wash his hand and then headed for the door.

  “I saw you downstairs,” a woman’s voice said before a beautiful blonde pushed her way into the room, her gaze concentrating on Sofia. “And then I saw you come up here.” The woman’s stare took in Sofia’s appearance.

  Sofia wondered what she looked like in that moment. Was her hair a mess, her lips kiss-swollen? Was it obvious what they’d been doing?

  The woman spun to stare at Marc. “This is the reason you left us at dinner? Your parents are in town for just a couple of nights and you come up here to fuck some random woman?”

  Sofia immediately stood, the shock of the woman’s words jarring her. She grabbed her jacket and her satchel, embarrassment flooding her.

  “Kelsie, it’s none of your business what I do, or with whom,” Marc said firmly. “I think it’s time you go.”

  Kelsie turned a distressed look Sofia’s way. “I can finally see why I wasn’t good enough, Marc. I can’t compete with models, but at least I’ve got a brain.”

  Spitfire swelled in Sofia. “Assumptions can get you in trouble, blondie.”

  Kelsie turned to glare at Sofia. “I could make him happy. He doesn’t need a woman like you.”

  “Enough, Kelsie,” Marc warned.

  Sofia headed for the door. She shouldn’t have been up there in the first place, and now she refused to stand in the middle of whatever drama was going on right then and there. “Good night, Marc.”

  “Leaving so soon?” Marc asked, apparently not thrown off by the change in events.

  “She needs to go,” Kelsie spat.

  Marc grabbed the blonde’s upper arm and escorted her to the door. He opened it and shoved her through. “Go back to your room, Kelsie.”

  As soon as he shut the door, he looked at Sofia. “A childhood crush. She can’t seem to let go.”

  “I don’t need any explanations—”

  “For once you don’t have questions, when I have answers for you,” Marc said with a grin.

  “This was a mistake,” Sofia said, heading for the door.

  Marc grasped her upper arm, stopping her in her tracks. “Don’t let an uninvited guest end our night prematurely.”

  Sofia looked over her shoulder. “I shouldn’t have been up here with you anyway. Her arrival reminded me of just that.”

  Marc watched her for a moment, then let go. “Fine. If you want to go, then go. But know I don’t want you to.”

  Sofia took two steps to the door and lifted a shaking hand to the knob. She didn’t want to go. She wanted him to build her fire once more and make her come a few more times, just like he had moments before. Yet, if she stayed, she’d only multiply the mistake. She’d been given a partial reprieve, and she needed to take it.

  She opened the door and escaped into the hallway. Forcing one foot before the other, she finally got to the elevator and punched the Down button a few times, much harder than it needed. With one hand supporting her against the wall, she breathed deep, trying to calm herself before the car arrived.

  Sofia heard a slight click and looked down the hallway. Marc stood half inside his room, half into the hall, staring at her with that steel gray gaze of his. Her body screamed for her to return to him, to continue to let him play her body like the instrument it seemed to be in his arms. The elevator pinged, and the doors opened. It was empty. She looked down at him one more time before escaping into the relative safety of the car. Punching the lobby button, she willed the doors to close before she changed her mind.

  They slid closed, and she could breathe again.

  She wasn’t afraid of Marc.

  She was afraid of the woman she’d just become in his arms.

  There was just too much in their way. Marc would never trust her enough to let her past his defenses, which meant she would be a fast, quick screw and nothing more. No matter how much she’d liked being in his arms, she wouldn’t subject herself to that.

  If things had been different—if there had never been a scandalous story about Marc’s brother or if she wasn’t currently working on one about him—maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe there would’ve been a chance.

  Sofia lifted her hand to her abraded lips, touching the kiss-bruised flesh. Her body rebelled, throbbing at the remembrance of his hands and mouth on her. She closed her eyes, wondering if she should’ve just given in.

  Chapter Five

  Marc dropped onto the empty bed, the one he’d hoped to share with Sofia. His cock was painfully erect and his balls aching, ready to come. Damn, she’d looked beautiful, coming in his arms. The scent of her juices still filled the room and made it impossible for him to think of anything else but surging inside her tight pussy.

  Hard-up and alone. What the hell was he going to do now?

  His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he fished it out, almost hoping the little minx had gotten his phone number somehow.

  How wrong he was. His agent. “Max, how’s it shaking?”

  “What the fuck where you thinking, dumb ass?” That was Max—no filler, no bullshit. “The commissioner is already screaming for your head on a spike.”

  “Hey, at least I didn’t murder anyone.”

  “At least with murder, the NFL has to back off and wait for the cops to investigate the charges. You dropped a teammate on live TV, and they’re ready to level judgment. It doesn’t look good, Marc. Not good at all.”

  “So they’ll throw a fine my way. Maybe make me sit out a game. It’s the pre-season. No big deal.” Max was making too big a deal out of the situation.

  “That’s not the way the commissioner made it sound. I think he plans to make an example out of you. You’ve got an appointment in his office tomorrow at ten. There’s a car coming to pick you up at six-thirty. A first class ticket will be waiting for you at BWI in the morning and another car to pick you up on the NYC side. Get some sleep and I’ll meet you in front of the building before we
go in.”

  “Fine,” Marc said, knowing it wasn’t a big deal. He’d never had a problem throughout his ten-year career. That had to mean something. It wasn’t like he’d committed a crime like some of the other men he played with throughout the league. Though, there was a sense of brotherhood on a team and he’d broken an unspoken pact, and gotten flagged for unsportsmanlike behavior on the field. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Marc hung up the phone, not all that worried about what the morning would bring. His thoughts went back to Sofia and the way she looked as he’d pushed her past her limits. She’d been putty in his hands. Soon, he’d have her back in his grasp. It was just a matter of time.

  He unzipped his pants and drew his hard cock from between the opening. Fisting his shaft, he stroked the length from root to tip, milking a single bead of fluid to the slit. Marc couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to stroke himself to completion. He had better control over his lust than he did in his younger days, and the thought of a woman leaving his room before he’d found satisfaction was unheard of at this stage of his life.

  Sofia had left him hot and bothered. She’d pay for that. Next time, she’d beg for release over and over again as she writhed under him. He’d take her to the brink, only to prevent her from coming as her retribution. And when he could stand it no longer, he’d shove his cock into that tight little pussy and fuck her until she screamed his name.

  He came a few strokes later, so fired up by Sofia, that it barely took any time to get him to spill his seed into his hand. She’d pay for that, too—with her bright red lips … wrapped around his cock … sucking him off.

  Once he cleaned himself off, he disrobed and climbed into that cold, empty bed. He drifted off to sleep with visions of him fucking her dancing in his head.

  Chapter Six

  Marc burst through the double doors out of the NFL offices, enraged. The meeting with the commissioner hadn’t gone as well as he’d expected. “What the fuck was that?”