Tackling Her Heart

by Alexandra O'Hurley

  Marc grabbed the ball from the goal she’d just made and lifted it in the air. “Last play, double or nothing. If you take it, you win. If I take it, I win. Deal?”

  Yes, thank God. “Deal.”

  He smiled impishly and threw the ball to her. She started moving the ball back toward her goal, intent on quickly scoring two points so she could fall over in the sand and relax for a few moments. Marc swiftly raced up to her, his aggressiveness in high gear. They battled for the ball and she stumbled, allowing him to take the ball from her. Recovering quickly, she sped after him as he headed closer to his goal.

  Not willing to lose to him, she threw her foot in the way as he started to kick for the goal and ended up tripping them both. Sofia tried to overcorrect herself and ran right into Marc, who was already on his way down. His back hit the sand seconds before she landed squarely on top of him.

  Marc grasped her hips, drawing her a little closer. She could feel his cock hard against her pussy. She sucked in a breath, lust making her lightheaded. He captured her gaze, and she saw the same fire she felt reflected in his stare, which only heated her even more.

  His lips parted, and hers did as well in response. She wanted to taste him, sand and sweat be damned. Leaning in, she kissed him quickly before lifting her head away.

  Marc grabbed the back of her head and kissed her, his tongue brushing against her lips. He rolled the pair of them over, her back now pressed into the warm sand. His hands gripped her ass tight as he pushed himself between her legs. Pressing his erection into her heat, he made the ache in her pussy throb all the more.

  Clothes started flying off, both of them working to become naked. The beach was private, but there was no way to prevent a straggler from finding them. It didn’t matter in the heat of the moment. Once they were both naked, Marc settled within her thighs, his hard cock sliding against her slickness.

  “I don’t have protection,” he spat between rushed breaths.

  Her own breathing was stilted, the air coming into her lungs in short, quick pants. They’d already had the drug and disease free conversation on her first full day there. They were both clean, and she was on the pill, yet she still preferred the added protection of a layer of latex. “This one time,” she whispered, the need within outweighing logic.

  Sofia was so wet, Marc slid into her in one easy glide. The first flesh-to-flesh connection, the heat of his cock inside her channel, felt so much better than the covered option. A sigh escaped her lips as he thrust again.

  Their lips met as they moved in unison, both seeking absolution. Marc’s large body all but covered her on the sand, making the outside world fall away. It was only them, writhing together as one.

  Marc moved steadily within her, creating the perfect tempo she loved. He staggered his motions, trying to stimulate her more with each of his strokes. Moving a hand between them, he captured her clit between two fingers and rolled the sensitive nub in time to his heavy thrusts. Tempting and tormenting her, he made her thrash against him, her need growing exponentially every second.

  Knowing they were out in the open, where anyone could catch them, also added to the sensations she felt. Sofia felt naughty in his arms, pushed to extremes she’d never gone before. He was a bad influence on her in the very best way. Never before had she felt so innately sexual. Never before had she felt so feminine and beautiful.

  He made her feel like a sexual goddess coming into her own.

  Marc was not immune to what was happening. His face contorted into a mask of blessed agony. He groaned when she clenched her muscles, her pussy wrapping around his thick root, and he was just as lost to the moment as she was.

  For all his power over her body, she was just as powerful. She’d learned that in his bed. Having the power to make Marc want her so desperately was heady, and she was realizing she liked his responses to her. He was insatiable—for her.

  Her body stiffened, a cry screamed from her lips. She came, wave after wave crashing through her. Marc tensed seconds later, his groans mixing with her whimpers and the surf along the shore. He came, the heated blast of cum inside her lengthening the contractions she felt. Marc continued to move, milking the last of his seed into her body before collapsing atop her. His weight was welcome, not too much, as he seemed to still brace himself some.

  What wasn’t as welcome was the rush of emotions she felt for him. She wanted to hear his whispered words of love, which she knew was impossible. Sofia was his mistress, not his girlfriend. She was slowly falling for him, knowing he wouldn’t feel the same for her. She clenched her jaw and willed the unwanted emotions away, trying to pull the wall up between them before she completely lost herself.

  She’d already been weak before they’d made love. Now, her body quivered, her limbs feeling elastic. There was no strength left to erect that wall. After days and days of him mastering her body, she was vulnerable to his larger than life persona and charm. If his aggressively dominant behavior could be considered charm, that was.

  Marc lifted up on his elbows and smiled down at her, the boyishness on his face making her heart skip a beat.

  “That wasn’t in the plan, right here, out in the open,” he mused. “Anyone could catch us out here.”

  “It’s not like we don’t run the risk each time we’re in the water beside the villa.”

  “At least there, we’re covered by the water so no one can be sure,” he said lowly before kissing her gently. “We need to get up before we’re spied on.”

  He didn’t rush to move, and instead laid unhurried kisses over her lips and cheeks. Sofia lay there, unwilling to move, languishing in the emotion he was drawing forth from those sweet caresses. Marc didn’t, couldn’t, love her. She was setting herself up for a fall, but couldn’t stop herself. So far she hadn’t been able to stop herself at all when it came to Marc.

  That needed to stop. She needed to protect herself better.

  Who am I kidding?

  “So later tonight, I get what I want in bed,” he mused. “I’ll have to consider my options.”

  “Who said you won?” she asked, turning to look toward the goal. The ball was sitting inside the goal, smack-dab in the middle. He’d kicked it, but she’d been too busy falling to see if he’d scored or not.

  Well, he had scored, one way or another, hadn’t he? Now she’d have to cater to his whim. What would it be this time? What other treasures did he store away in that secretive box of his?

  “Tonight is going to be interesting,” he whispered, a half-smile making him look so handsome.

  How was she supposed to build a barrier around herself when he kept breaking it away as fast as she added it?

  Chapter Eleven

  Marc walked hand in hand with Sofia back to the villa. She seemed as exhausted after their game as he did, but there was also a glow to her he’d never noticed before. During the game, she’d been on fire, her ready smiles, her laughs and cries as she played, they’d all impacted him. After her first goal, she’d spun, her face aglow with pride, excitement, beauty, and humor, and she’d been the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on. He’d felt as if he’d been punched in the gut at the same moment, and fear had wormed its way into his chest.

  The woman was worming her way under his skin, something he hadn’t considered possible. Every day he spent with her, he felt the attraction he had for her growing. Now he’d had the soccer game set up simply to make her happy. He wouldn’t admit that to her, but he’d hoped it would make her smile and let him inch closer to her world.

  He hadn’t expected her to inch closer to his.

  There were so many reasons she wasn’t the right woman for him. After what she’d done to Maddox, how could he completely trust her? She agreed to his terms, but it wasn’t like he had a contract to keep her quiet. If she wrote a story about being his mistress or anything they’d talked about, there was little he could do to stop her.

  Marc hoped he wouldn’t have to face that. He didn’t think he would, but trust was
n’t something he gave easily.

  “Do you want to head up to the resort and have dinner tonight?” he asked suddenly.

  Sofia looked up at him, appearing shocked. “But there’s other people up there. They might see us.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “I told my editor I was in South America. I can’t be seen with you publicly.”

  Her words stung, even though he’d been the one to tempt her into lying in the first place. He didn’t want to hide. He realized in that moment he wanted to show her off to the world—on his arm. “I can see if we can get a private spot in one of the restaurants.”

  Sofia was quiet a few moments. “I suppose you could ask, but we’d have to be careful.”

  “Who here is going to tell on you?” he asked.

  “You’re an NFL player. All someone has to do is click a shot of you with their cell phone and post it to Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter and it could go viral. You’ve been out of sight since the game, and people will want to know what you’re doing. If that picture got back to the magazine, goodbye job, hello unemployment line.”

  Marc knew she was right, but she wasn’t in the habit of hiding out. “I’ll get one of the restaurants to deliver here, then.”

  She turned and smiled, but he was too aggravated for the look to have the intended effect. “Thank you,” she whispered before moving to her tippy toes to kiss his cheek.

  Sofia watched him as they walked. “You’re mad.”

  “I want to go out to dinner.” With you.

  “You’re the one who told me to lie!” she cried.

  “I know,” he muttered. He knew he was being difficult.

  They walked back onto the deck of the villa, and he ushered her inside. “Go take your shower. I’ll call the front desk and have them arrange an early dinner be brought here.”

  Sofia sidled up to him, pressing her palm against his chest. “Or I could wait for you and we could shower together.”

  “Go shower,” he said, cocking an eyebrow her way.

  Sofia glared at him. “You’re acting like a spoiled child.”

  “I’m not used to being told no,” he snapped back. “You’ll have to be punished for it.”

  “Punished?”

  The look on her face seemed a mixture of panic and desire. His cock sprang up in his shorts as he noted her odd reaction. “Spanked, maybe. I can see you now, cuffed to my bed, a flogger taken to that pretty, round ass of yours.”

  Sofia swallowed roughly, and took half a step back. Her irises dilated and her little pink tongue came out to spread along her bottom lip. She was scared … and heated.

  “Would you like that, Sofia? Or would you prefer me to put you over my lap and spank you with my hand? Do you prefer the flesh-to-flesh contact more than the caress of leather?”

  “I—I don’t know,” she all but whimpered.

  He took a step forward, closing the gap she’d made. “I think you do know. Take your shower and think about which punishment you’d prefer. When I get out of my shower, you can tell me which you want. I might take your wishes into account,” he turned to grab his cell phone off the counter. “But then again, maybe I won’t.”

  His back to her, he couldn’t see her reaction to his words, but the scent of her cream struck his nose. She was enflamed by his words. The corner of his mouth lifted as he dialed the concierge’s desk. Marc was tempted to put the phone down and forget food. He’d be just as happy feeding on her instead.

  But she needed time to think of what she wanted, and for the fear to subside a little, letting the flames of desire build.

  “Yes, Mr. Anders, how may I be of service?”

  His smile widened as the concierge picked up. He was going to wine and dine Sophia before tying her to the bed. “I need your help again,” he said before recounting part of his plan to the man on the other end of the line.

  * * * *

  Sofia finished drying off, her hands shaking like leaves. She pulled on one of her sundresses, going braless underneath. The smocked top would do enough to hold her ample bosom for the evening. She drew on a pair of black thongs, which was almost pointless as Marc had ripped off the last pair she’d worn. The man was having a negative impact on her underwear drawer, so it she figured it might be best not to wear them at all. As nervous as she was, she couldn’t decide, but eventually pulled them back off, knowing she rather enjoyed that particular pair and didn’t want them wrecked.

  She fussed with her hair, pulling it into a knot. Staring into the mirror over the dresser, she decided she didn’t care for the way it looked. Sofia pulled it down and rearranged it again, only to not like that either. The third attempt was somewhat more successful, so she gave up and glared at herself in the mirror.

  Knowing full well she was wasting time and fussing over herself versus thinking about Marc’s comments, she finally had to face the fact he planned to cuff her to the bed and spank her. She was raised a good girl, taught that actions like the ones he talked of were sinful.

  Sofia must be a sinner, then, because the thoughts of Marc doing the things he talked of made her hot and bothered. She wasn’t so naive to not know things like that happened in some people’s bedrooms, but prior to Marc, she’d thought anyone who participated in that kind of play had to be strange to find enjoyment in it. Never had she imagined herself as someone to find it erotic.

  Yet the moment he’d uttered his plans to punish her, her body had throbbed and ached for his touch and his … spanking. The vision of her lying over his lap as he spanked her with his bare hand caused cream to ease from her pussy and coat her folds.

  Her cell phone buzzed from the bedside table, breaking her train of thought. It was a welcome diversion, her mind going wild. She picked up the cell and saw it was her editor. After taking a deep, calming breath, she clicked the Accept button on the screen. “Hi, Davis.”

  “Hey, I just wanted to touch base with you and see how your dad was,” Davis said. “You guys doing okay?”

  “Yeah, he’s already doing much better since I arrived,” she said, lying through her teeth. Her stomach flip-flopped. She didn’t like lying and felt terrible doing it. She was an unprofessional, terrible person who would rot in hell.

  “That’s great,” Davis said. She heard the sorting of papers or something on the other end as silence filled the air for a moment. “So, I’m looking at an email that says you supposedly had sex on a Tahitian beach with Marc Anders this afternoon. I told my reporter there was no way that could be possible because you’re in Argentina right now.”

  Sofia closed her eyes and felt the world tilt under her feet. “Davis—”

  “Look, I don’t want to hear your explanations. You promised a story, then you backed out, so I sent another reporter to cover it. Now that I find you’ve been sleeping with the guy, I think you’re still the better one to write it since you’re closer with the subject. So, if you want a job when you return, you’ll send me a story in two days. If I don’t get that story, then you no longer work here. Do you understand?”

  “How can I write a story about Marc now? I’m compromised.”

  Davis sighed. “We didn’t hire you for your journalistic credentials, sweetheart. Just get the job done.”

  Anger rushed through her veins. Her worst fears were just realized. “You’re a bastard.”

  “And you’ve whored yourself out to Marc Anders. Are you going to write the story or not?”

  She wanted to say no. She should say no. No, she should tell him to go fuck himself, but there was something inside her that didn’t want to go out on that note. The masked warrior queen warred with the wallflower, and neither one was stronger than the other at the moment. Her father had worked hard to get her that job, and her respect for him got in the way of saying what she really wanted to. It seemed easier to say what Davis wanted to hear than to continue arguing. “Fine. I’ll write the damned story. Two days.”

  “Good choice.” The line went dead.

  C
hapter Twelve

  Sofia sat there staring at her phone for a moment, feeling almost ill. She sat it back down to charge, her mind spinning. There was no way she could write that story. Her heart thumped heavily in her chest. Sofia cared too much for Marc to break her promise. She wouldn’t do it. Instead, she’d write her letter of resignation and submit that. Her father would understand; she’d make him understand. Damn it, why hadn’t she been able to tell Davis to go to hell?

  “So what are you going to write about me?”

  Sofia spun, and the sickness only grew. Marc stood there, his face looking angrier than she’d ever seen it. A towel hugged his narrow hips, his broad, muscular arms crossed over a wide expanse of chest. Under normal circumstances, she’d have been turned on by the sight of him like this, with beads of water covering his sinful body. Now, his untimely arrival was all kinds of wrong.

  Marc hadn’t completely started trusting her, but she’d seen him relaxing in the past few days. Whatever ground she’d gained, she’d lost and then some in the matter of a couple of minutes. “I’m not going to write it.”

  “You just told Davis you would write the story, even though you’re compromised. So you’ve been lying this whole time, getting closer to me for the kill. I should’ve guessed.”

  “No! I didn’t. Davis backed me into a corner, and I didn’t know what to say, so I said yes. But I’m not going to write it. I can’t write it.”

  Marc stared at her for a long moment. “Why can’t you?”

  Because I’m falling in love with you. The immediate thought made her suck in a breath. She felt slightly dizzy and put a hand on the bed to steady herself. She knew there was no way she could repeat that thought out loud. Marc wouldn’t want to hear it. “Becoming your mistress … gave me bias. If word of our relationship surfaced, anything I printed would be considered worthless.”

  Marc continued to stare at her, his face now devoid of emotion. What was he thinking? She couldn’t gauge anything from the blank stare he was giving her. He was silent, just watching her like a hawk.