“Technique won’t be enough. Not this season.” Frustration forced his voice into a tight rumble in his chest.
“What am I going to do with you?” Lavender nuzzled his neck. The man needed to relax before he shattered into pieces. Tyler sucked in a breath and rested a hand on her thigh. His fingers tightened around her leg. He lifted his gaze and met hers again. She touched his model-worthy face, ran a finger along his strong jawline, uncompromising lips, and over the cords in his neck. Reaching up, she slipped her fingers through the silky strands of his shaggy dark hair.
“When I’m with you, I forget all this shit.” His blue eyes sliced through her. “Help me work on that relaxing thing.” His voice sounded hopeful, somewhat out of breath.
“How do you propose we do that?” She swallowed as her body tingled in anticipation, suspecting and dreading the implication.
Tyler pulled her onto his lap. The vulnerable guy of a few moments ago replaced by the in-charge, take-no-prisoners asshole. “Perhaps a little sexual therapy in the sky would help.”
Her eyes popped open wide as she guessed the direction his mind was taking. “Tyler. What are you doing? The pilot—” She cast a nervous glance in the direction of the cockpit. The pilot paid them no mind as he worked the controls and talked on the headset to an unseen person.
“You started it.”
Tyler had a point. She did start it but merely to comfort and not to have sex on an airplane. Well, maybe she did consider such a thing, but just a little. “Really, let’s wait until we land.”
“He won’t notice.” Tyler ran a finger across her lips and parted them with the tip of his index finger.
“Won’t notice? I’m noisy, remember? And so are you. He’d have to be deaf not to notice.” Despite her feeble protests, she parted her lips and sucked his finger into her mouth.
Tyler groaned and closed his eyes for a moment. “Now do that to my cock, darlin’, and you’ll make me one happy man.”
She grasped his wrist and removed the finger from her mouth. “Tyler. We can’t.”
“Sure we can. Our best sex happens when you’re pissed at me or we’re pushing the limits. You don’t hold back, and I fucking love it. If you prefer, I could do something to piss you off. I excel at that.” He grinned, his wicked, to-hell-with-everyone-else grin, and slid his hands up her sweater. “How’s this?”
The jock knew her hot buttons, and he pushed more than a few as his fingers did a little tango along her rib cage. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she rewarded his “unwanted” attention with a sultry groan.
“Am I pissing you off?”
“Very much so.” She did nothing to stop him, couldn’t if she wanted. Lavender gripped the waistband of his jeans, pulling him closer, rather than pushing him away. She pressed her shoulders against the back of the seat in front of her and gasped as he pushed her bra and sweater up to her neck. The cool air pebbled her nipples into hard nubs.
“Are you furious?” He grinned at her, looking every bit like the obnoxious Tyler she’d grown to appreciate.
“Absolutely. I’ve never disliked you as much as I do now.”
“Good, I’m doing my job then.” His husky voice exposed the ragged control he had over his emotions.
“Oh, yeah.” She’d become putty in his big hands. If he asked, she’d strip naked and do him in the center of Pike’s Place Market. Yeah, that’s how much she disliked him and his ripped athlete’s body.
“Honey, I can make you really mad at me. We’re going to fu—uh, screw while we fly thousands of feet in the air. It’s our destiny.”
“That’ll do it. I’ll heap tons of passionate fury on you.” She rolled her head back and allowed his mouth easier access to her neck. He jumped on the opportunity, mauling her with a combination of lips and teeth. Most certainly, he left his mark more than once.
“I like the passionate part. Yeah. Really like it.”
Bending his head, Tyler covered his bases. He sucked on one nipple, squeezed the other with the fingers of one hand, while his other hand slipped between her legs. He unzipped her jeans, banging his elbow on the armrest. He cursed a blue streak, grabbed her around the waist, and raised her off his lap into a standing position. Yanking her jeans down to her ankles, he pushed the soaked crotch of her panties aside.
“Honey, thinking of me and not Murphy better be the reason you’re fu—effing wet.”
“What do you think, buster? I like Murphy, which makes him boring. I don’t like you.”
His warm chuckle gave her heart a boost. “Keep it that way. I’ll make you forget the man’s name.”
“Whose name?”
His threw back his head and laughed. She loved his hearty baritone. Nothing like the promise of sex on a plane to bring a man out of his funk and send a woman flying without needing wings.
“Get these damn things off.”
She didn’t wait for a second invitation. She kicked off her shoes. The jeans and panties followed. Pressed against the cramped quarters of the space between the two seats, he’d effectively fenced her in. She couldn’t move.
Her bones melted under his touch. Her open thighs welcomed him, inviting him to do as he wished. She suspected he wished to do a lot. Parting the folds of skin, he slid his index finger inside her soaked pussy. The droning of the engine and whirring of the propellers drowned out most of Lavender’s whimpers and cries. Tyler expertly worked her pussy with his fingers until she almost came, then he withdrew. She protested, pissed as hell that he’d stopped. He had a habit of doing that just to torture her. Panting, she leaned against the seat back and wiped the sweat from her brow.
“Ride me,” he ordered, holding his breath, most likely in hope she wouldn’t balk at his alpha-male posturing.
Hesitating, she glanced over her shoulder. Tyler did, too. The pilot seemed oblivious, which amazed her. The sexual sparks arcing about the plane should’ve lit up the cockpit’s dashboard. Maybe he’d seen it all.
After one last uncertain glance, she straddled Tyler’s thighs, facing him. Legs spread wide, she lowered herself down. He guided his hard cock into her soft pussy. Once the head penetrated her opening, her common sense and remaining modesty flew out the window and drowned in the Strait of Juan De Fuca below.
Tyler grasped her butt cheeks and pulled her down on top of him until she was fully impaled. His pubic hair abraded her smoothly shaved pussy. He shoved his hips upward and held her down at the same time, driving deeper. His blue eyes shone with passion and unrestrained lust. They shone with something else, too. Something in opposition to their claims of mutual dislike. Something she didn’t want to acknowledge.
Damn, she loved the feeling of fullness, being stretched to her body’s limits by his impressive cock. Every time her body managed to accommodate him.
They moved together, settling into their now-familiar rhythm, bodies slapping together. Tyler grunted with each thrust, while Lavender bit down on her lip to keep from crying out. The emotions built inside her, like a flash flood sweeping her away down the mountain. The pressure built inside her.
Lavender plummeted head first into the spell woven by the joining of their two bodies, by the depths of heat in Tyler’s blue eyes, and by the inexplicable connection between them.
Denial wasn’t working anymore.
It wasn’t just about the sex.
* * * * *
Tyler couldn’t remember ever being so turned on, and that was saying a lot considering this past month he’d spent fucking Lavender in every possible location and position. He stared at her, locking his gaze with her own, as he grasped her hips and pressed her down onto his cock.
“Tyler. Ty. I need you to make my day.” Her throaty whisper did more for him than any screams of passion. Damn, but he craved sex with this woman, any time, any place; he’d be there, locked and loaded like a good little soldier. All she had to do was call out his name just like she was doing right now.
Never one to disappoint a woman, Tyler held
her waist in a vise-like grip. He banged her up and down on his cock in rapid succession.
He nipped at her shoulder, and she cried out, obviously beyond caring about the pilot. He pumped harder, faster, driving deep and hard with each hungry stroke. Their bodies collided in an unrestrained frenzy of slapping and thrusting. Positioning Lavender’s legs over his shoulders, he drove in deeper and harder. She begged for more. Oh, yeah, his lady liked it rough at times. This happened to be one of those times. Ignoring his aching muscles and protesting cock, he rammed into her over and over. She slammed her incredible pussy down onto his dick until it ached in the most freaking incredible way.
His balls tightened, his dick jerked. He leveraged her upward, slammed her down, and ground his cock deep and high inside her. She shuddered and leaned back, pressing him even deeper. Her legs wrapped around his waist with surprising strength for one so small.
Her pussy tightened around him as he came in a fevered eruption of passion. Emptying all that he was or would be inside her, he left it all out on the field with a fervor that eluded him when it came to other aspects of his life. She shuddered on top of him and came, the incredible high written all over her face. Obviously, it was as good for her as it was for him.
He slipped into a temporary lust-induced coma. Holding her close, he whispered nonsense in her ear, terms of endearment, sweet promises of devotion, crap he never said to any woman.
He bit back the most terrifying phrase of all: I love you. Even as it sat on the tip of his tongue.
Buried in the haze of incredible sex, his brain played tricks on him. It had to be.
He looked up to meet the pilot’s eyes. The man winked at him and went back to his business.
Chapter 22—Blown Coverage
Lavender sipped wine and swapped stories with Derek’s wife, Rachel. They’d become fast friends after meeting in the bleachers earlier in the day. Nearby, Tyler and Derek stood together, drinking beer and making small talk with the athletes and media gathered in the reception room following the Seattle area sports awards. For the second year in a row, Tyler won Athlete of the Year. He mustered up his expected panache and gave a rousing speech thanking his teammates, namely his offensive line and his receivers. Then he accepted the award on behalf of his defense, christening them as the real heroes of the season.
Lavender swelled with pride for him. It’d been a tough weekend, but he’d survived. Zach Murphy might be a thorn in his side, but the guy would goad Tyler out of his self-induced indifference or die trying. She couldn’t hate the man for wanting the old Tyler back on the field even if she didn’t agree with his in-your-face methods.
Between the awards and last night’s plane ride, the weekend wasn’t a total loss. Sex at a few thousand feet above sea level exceeded even the high expectations she’d set when it came to sex with Tyler Harris. Her man delivered once again.
Lavender froze. Her man? When had she started considering him her man? They weren’t a couple. They couldn’t be. They had too many strikes against them. They’d never be the type of couple that friends and family mentioned in the same breath as if they were one unit.
Just to torture herself, she tried linking them together in her mind.
Lavender and Tyler. What a mouthful. El and Ty. Much better.
Yeah, she liked the sound of that. Too much. Their situation blurred her firmly held line between sex with a jock and a relationship with one. She’d be a fool to blur it even further in her mind.
Tyler interrupted her introspection by moving to her side and claiming her hand. He seemed relaxed and content for once. Rachel slid next to Derek, who hooked an arm over her shoulder and pulled her close. An unexpected twinge of jealousy shot through Lavender. She wanted what they had with a powerful surge of longing that set her back on her heels. Heaven help her if she fooled herself into thinking she’d have an emotional connection with Tyler.
“Having fun?” Tyler grinned down at her. He wrapped a lock of her hair around his big finger.
“I would be if the man of the hour asked me to dance.” She gazed up at him, and her insides turned weird, all soft and sticky, like a great caramel chocolate bar left too long in the sun.
“It’d be my pleasure.” He offered her his tuxedo-clad arm, and the man did look fine in his formfitting tuxedo that emphasized his broad shoulders and hugged his fine ass.
Derek elbowed Tyler and caught his attention. “Hey, don’t look now, but Coach Gerloch is headed our way.”
The smile dropped off her lips. Cold fear sliced through Lavender. She snapped her head around in the direction Derek was looking.
Her father.
Tyler had promised her he wouldn’t be in attendance. “Did you plan this?” So much for the chocolate bar. She glared at him, reeling from the hurt and betrayal.
“No, I promise. I was told he wouldn’t be here.” His apology was cut short as his college coach’s long strides ate up the distance between them. Her father’s unfathomable eyes never left her face. Tyler stepped in front of her in an instinctual protective gesture.
Oblivious, Derek’s face broke into a grin at the sight of their old college coach. The two shook hands vigorously then Derek introduced him to Rachel. Expectantly, they turned to Tyler and Lavender.
Coach nodded at Ty and stuck his hand out. Tyler snubbed him, refusing to shake it. He stood taller, chin jutted out in stubborn defiance. Lavender stepped to his side, not allowing him to fight her battles. She’d handle her father.
“Good to see you, Ty.” Gerloch’s brow furrowed as he regarded Tyler with wary watchfulness. He turned to Lavender, the moment of truth. She’d give anything for a glass of water as her mouth dried up like a pond in a drought. She twisted her ring, the one he’d given her for her fifteenth birthday, and the only item from her father she’d kept. His quick glance downward indicated he noticed.
Brian Gerloch clutched a wineglass in his hand and swallowed. The pulse in the side of his neck throbbed. He’d gotten older since she’d last seen him, but the lines on his face and gray in his hair didn’t diminish his good looks. Her convictions caved slightly at the sadness in his eyes, but she shored them up and braced herself.
“Lavender, honey, how are you?” He made a move to hug her, but Tyler pulled her against his body, coming to the rescue.
As much as she wanted to call him Brian, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. “I’m fine, Dad, but you wouldn’t know that, would you?” All of the hurt and anger she’d kept bottled up for years bubbled to the surface. Like a volcano building to the big eruption, the emotions had festered inside her. Derek and Rachel swapped shocked glances.
“Honey, I’m sorry. Maybe we could talk.” He slumped slightly, seeming lost and vulnerable, his expression at odds with the strong, fearless man she’d known.
Emotions clogged her throat and threatened to reduce her to a blubbering mass of sobbing, weak female. Exactly what she didn’t want to do. Instead, she’d get the hell out of there before she embarrassed herself and gave her father a clue as to how much he’d hurt her.
“I have nothing to say to you.” She turned on her spiked heel and ran from the room before she did something stupid, like forgive him.
Not waiting for the elevator, she ran down the stairwell, out the door of the hotel, to the sidewalk. The rain pelted her body, drenched her evening dress, and wilted her carefully styled hair. She hailed a cab and was opening the door by the time Tyler caught her. He pulled her into his arms.
“El, where are you going?” His blue eyes brimmed with concern as he gazed down at her.
Dumb question, Harris. “Back to the island.”
“I’m coming with you.” The determination in his eyes didn’t allow argument.
She argued anyway. “Please, Ty, I need to be alone. Let me go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Her voice cracked. He raised a hand and wiped her face with his finger, even though it was damn difficult to know where the tears ended and the raindrops started.
“Are yo
u sure?” He didn’t look convinced in the least. “I can’t leave you alone.”
“Please. If you care even a little bit for me, give me space. Besides, if you leave in the middle of the party, that’ll start more rumors.”
“I’ll deal with it.”
“Ty, please. Stay for me. Okay? I’ll be all right. I’ve been through this before. I appreciate your concern, but take care of yourself.”
“I can’t—” He clamped his hands on her shoulders.
“You can. I’ll see you tomorrow. I want to go home to the island and get away from this city. You need to stay here and show the world Tyler Harris is still a force in Seattle sports.”
Tyler’s mouth covered hers. For a moment, she forgot what she was running from. Lavender wrenched away from him and slipped into the back seat. He let her go. “See you soon.”
Tyler bent down and handed the taxi driver some cash then gazed back at her. “Do you need airfare?”
She shook her head and forced a grin. “I still have your credit card.” On that note, she signaled to the taxi driver to take off. Lavender looked over her shoulder. Tyler stood in his tux on the sidewalk, rain pouring down around him. He stayed there as the taxi drove out of sight.
Chapter 23—Block in the Back
Tyler stood in the pouring rain, not moving until Lavender’s taxi turned the corner and disappeared. Riddled with guilt for not going with her when she needed him most, he walked back into the hotel lobby and shook the rain off his tux.
He’d rather follow Lavender, maybe cajole her into another round of in-flight sex, which would make both of them forget their problems, at least temporarily.
Maybe he’d leave as soon as he went back inside to grab his trophy. The press would crucify him if he left it on the table. They’d use it as one more piece of evidence regarding his lack of dedication, or they’d claim he drank too much to remember he’d gotten an award. Lavender was right about him staying. They’d be all over his ass for skipping out early.
Snap Decision: The Originals (Seattle Steelheads Series Book 2) Page 21
