See Jane Score

by Rachel Gibson

  She shook her head and ran her hands across his warm shoulders and chest. “Sometimes I don’t even wear this.” Through her lust haze, she thought back on which thong she’d pulled on earlier, and she thanked God she’d done laundry and had on something decent.

  “I remember,” he groaned. “Knowing you walk around without half your underwear has been getting me in trouble.” His big hands circled her waist and he lifted her to her knees, then he leaned forward to bury his face in her stomach. He pushed up the silk material and his warm breath heated her flesh as he spoke. “Take this off,” he said, then placed wet kisses on her abdomen.

  Jane pulled the camisole over her head and dropped it on the couch beside her. Luc spread his fingers wide along her ribs and leaned his head back to look at her. His hot gaze touched her breasts and he took in a heavy breath, but he didn’t say a word.

  Jane sat in his lap once more and felt compelled to speak for him. “I’m not quite what you’re used to,” she said and covered herself with her palms.

  “Big breasts can be a big disappointment. You’re beautiful, Jane. Better than my fantasies.” He grasped her wrists and shoved them behind her, arching her back and bringing her breasts close to his face. “I’ve waited a long time to see you like this. To do this,” he said as his breath whispered against her aching nipple. Then he softly sucked her inside his hot wet mouth. He let go of her wrists, and her hands found the sides of his head and she held him there.

  His cheeks drew inward as the suction he created intensified. The backs of his knuckles brushed her belly, and he unbuttoned the waistband of her pants, then he pushed his hand inside. He cupped her crotch though her red lace thong and she moaned with pleasure.

  “You’re wet, Jane,” he said low in his throat as he pushed aside her tiny panties and touched her hot slick flesh. It would have been so easy just to succumb right there. To let him stroke her to orgasm. It wouldn’t have taken much more and she would have been gone, but she didn’t want to orgasm by herself, she wanted him to come with her.

  “No more,” she said and grabbed his wrist. He slid his hand up her stomach to her breast, and his fingers played with her, spreading moisture across her nipple. He followed with his mouth. A sound of intense male pleasure, primal and possessive, rumbled deep in his throat, pushing her so close to the edge she feared she would orgasm with nothing more than his mouth on her breast.

  “Stop.”

  He leaned his head back and looked at her, his gaze totally gone with passion. “Tell me what you want.”

  There was a lot she wanted, but since she might never get this chance again, she said, “I want to lick your tattoo.”

  He blinked several times as if hadn’t quite heard her, then he spread his arms.

  Jane slid from his lap and pulled him to his feet. She kicked off her shoes and socks and her pants followed. Standing in just her thong, she kissed his shoulder and chest. She ran her hands over his hard muscles and kissed a trail downward. Then she knelt before him, hooked her hands in the waistband of his pants, and brought his flat belly to her face. She licked the heels of the tattoo and tasted his flesh on her tongue. “I’ve been wondering how big your horseshoe is,” she whispered as she kissed his navel. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

  “You should have asked before now. I would have let you.” He ran his fingers through her hair and pushed it from her face. “Next time, you don’t even have to ask.”

  She smiled against his belly and she would have bitten him if his skin hadn’t been tight as a drum. She unbuttoned his pants and shoved them down his hips and thighs. He stood before her, his black horseshoe disappearing beneath his white briefs. An impressive erection filled out the clean white cotton, and she kissed him through his underwear. Then she pushed the underwear down his legs. Freed, he jutted toward her, and she noticed that the toe of the horseshoe disappeared beneath his pubic hair and went clear to the base of his penis. A ribbon was tattooed just above his dark blond pubic hair and was tied from one side of the horseshoe to the other, lucky was written across it in bold black ink.

  She laughed and kissed the hot velvet tip. “You don’t want me to ask to do this?”

  His response was a strangled, “No!”

  For the first time since he’d kissed her, she felt the power shift to her, and she was in control. She took as much of him as she could into her mouth and tested the weight of his testicles in her palm. She’d never done this for a man during their first time together, fearing it would set a bad precedent, but with Luc, she didn’t care. She wanted to do it. Not for him but for her. And no matter how it hurt and would kill her later, she knew there was no future with Luc. No precedent to set. She would take all that she could of him. She was Honey Pie. She’d try her hardest to put him into a coma.

  Luc grasped her shoulders and pulled her to her feet. He brought his face to hers and his tongue ravished her mouth. His hands slid to her behind and he lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist. His hard naked flesh pressed into her through her thong panties and he kicked free of his pants and briefs. He fed her hungry kisses as they moved from the living room down the hall to his dark bedroom. Light from the massive windows spilled across the big bed, and he gently laid her across the deep blue quilt. She raised herself on her elbows and watched him move through the shadows. A drawer to a night-stand slid open and then he was before her.

  “I’m thinking I might have to apologize before we get busy,” he said as he rolled a latex condom over the plump head and down the thick shaft.

  She pushed her panties from her legs and tossed them. Light from outside poured over one side of his face. “Why?”

  He covered her with his warm body and rested his weight on his elbows. “Because I don’t think I can last very long.”

  Then she felt the head of his penis, smooth and hard and hot, and she didn’t think he had to worry, because she wasn’t likely to last long herself. He slid partway into her, and her body resisted the intrusion. She placed her hands on his shoulders to stop him and he took her face in his hands and kissed her gently. Then he withdrew and pushed a little farther inside.

  “You’re so tight around me,” he gasped. She sucked in a breath, his breath, as he pulled out almost completely, only to bury himself so deep she felt him against her cervix. A deep groan tore through his chest and echoed around her heart.

  She wrapped one leg around his back. “Luc,” she whispered as he began to move, setting a perfect rhythm of pleasure. “Mmm, that feels good.”

  With his face just above hers, he asked, “How do you want it?”

  “Just like you’re giving it to me.” His athlete’s body-toned and trained to go the distance- strained, and his harsh breath brushed her face. Every cell in her body was focused on the shaft pounding into her body.

  “More?”

  “Yes. Give me more,” she gasped, and he gave it to her. Faster, harder, and more intense. Over and over, his harsh breath brushing her cheek as he drove her farther up the bed. And just when she didn’t think she could take any more, she cried out and her hands curled into fists. Her climax so exquisite she saw and heard nothing over the pounding of her heart and the rushing of sensation across her flesh. The fire he ignited deep inside flushed her body, and her inner muscles clenched and drew him deeper until he too climaxed. An explosion of curses were torn from his throat.

  Neither of them said anything for a long time. Not until their breathing slowed and their heart rates returned to normal. Luc withdrew from her and moved from the bed to the bathroom. Cool air rushed over Jane’s heated skin as she watched him go, walking through the variegated shadows. Her mind was still too numb to think about what she’d just done, but her heart knew. She loved Luc Martineau with a frightening intensity.

  When she heard the toilet flush, she looked toward the bathroom door. Luc walked toward her, naked and beautiful within the panels of light falling across the bedroom. Looking at him, her chest got tight as if she
were having a heart attack.

  “What time did you need to leave?” he asked as he joined her on the bed.

  Reality intruded like a bucket of cold water. He hadn’t even waited for her afterglow to fade. She’d just had mind-blowing sex, and he was ready for her to go. She sat up and looked around for her underwear, hoping like hell she didn’t do something mortifying like burst into tears before she got out the door. “I don’t have a curfew.” As modestly as possible given that she was naked, she scooted on her stomach to the far edge of the bed and looked over the side. No panties. “If I can just find my underwear, I’ll get out of here. I’m sure you need your rest for tomorrow night’s game.”

  He grabbed her ankle and pulled her across the bed toward him again. “Second string’s between the pipes tomorrow night, and I asked because I want you to stay.”

  He turned her onto her back, and she looked up into his face. “You do?”

  “Uh-huh. I figure I’m going to want to do that a couple more times before I let you out the front door.”

  “A couple more?”

  “Yeah.” He pulled her tight against his body, and she felt him rock-hard again. “Is that a problem?”

  “No.”

  “Good, because I’m planning on scoring a hat trick.”

  Chapter 14

  Sin Bin: Penalty Box

  Jane wished she’d brought Caroline with her to the hockey game the next night. She needed something to keep her from thinking too much-from overanalyzing what she’d done the night before. But really, she’d analyzed her actions to death already. She’d had sex with Luc Martineau three times. Three mind-blowing, earth-shattering, set-your-hair-on-fire times. And each time, with each touch, each word uttered from his mouth, she’d fallen more in love with him, until she didn’t think her heart would ever recover.

  Around two a.m., he’d fallen asleep in a tangle of sheets and moonlight spilling in through the windows. One second he’d been talking about growing up in Edmonton, then he’d gone out as if someone had flipped a switch. She’d never seen anyone fall asleep that fast, and she watched him for a few moments to make sure he was okay. She pushed a lock of hair from his forehead, and she touched his cheek and the rough stubble on his jaw. Then she gathered her clothes and left without waking him.

  She’d never fallen so fast and so hard for a man, and she’d left without waking him mostly because she hadn’t known what to say. Thanks? Let’s get together again sometime? See ya at the game tomorrow night? She’d left because that was the rule with a one-nighter. Someone always left before dawn.

  She’d also left without her panties. She hadn’t been able to find them in his dark bedroom, and she hadn’t wanted to wake him by turning on the light. She’d left them there and now her biggest fear was that his cleaning lady, or worse, Marie, would find them.

  No, that was wrong. Her biggest fear wasn’t the discovery of her missing panties. It was seeing Luc tonight and feeling the horrible push and pull of her heart. In the past, she’d had boyfriends and one-night stands. She’d been hurt, and she’d hurt others too. But nothing compared to how Luc would hurt her. She knew it. She knew it was coming, and yet she couldn’t seem to stop it.

  It was all so horrible and wonderful, and in the middle of all the confusion was guilt. He’d confirmed for her last night what she’d pretty much known. She could no longer tell herself that he’d find the Honey Pie article flattering. That he wouldn’t mind. He would, and there was nothing she could do about it now. There was no way to make it up to him, and knowing that he would never find out she was behind it did nothing to help with the guilt churning in the pit of her stomach.

  She loved him and she didn’t even bother lying and telling herself that she hadn’t dressed for him. She wore red lipstick and a red silk blouse beneath her black blazer and wool pants. She felt silly, running out and buying a blouse because he said he liked her in red. Like that would make him love her.

  A half hour before the game, she headed to the locker room. “Keep your pants up, gentlemen,” she began as she entered. While she recited her good-luck ritual, she could feel Luc’s gaze on her, hot and vibrant, and she absolutely refused to look at him. Not after last night. Not after the things they’d done together in his bedroom. When she was through, she tucked her chin and headed for the door.

  “You forgot something,” Luc called out to her.

  No. She hadn’t forgotten. She kept her gaze on the toes of her boots as she turned and walked back across the room. When she stood before him, she finally raised her gaze from his skates, up his bulky pads, past the fish on his jersey to the mouth that had kissed her passionately the night before. All over her body. “I thought you weren’t playing tonight.”

  “I’m not, but if the goalie gets pulled, I’ll have to go in for him.”

  “Oh, all right,” she sighed. By sheer force of will, she kept her cheeks from turning red and finally looked up into his amused blue eyes. “You big dumb dodo.”

  “Thanks,” he said through a wicked grin, “but that wasn’t what I was talking about when I said you forgot something.”

  She’d given her pants-dropping speech, shaken the captain’s hand, and called Luc a dodo. She hadn’t forgotten anything. “What are you talking about?”

  He leaned forward and said just above a whisper, “You forgot your panties in my bed last night.”

  Everything within her stopped and she couldn’t remember how to breathe. She looked around to see if anyone had heard him, but they all seemed busy elsewhere.

  “I found them under my pillow this morning and I wondered if you put them there on purpose. Maybe a good-morning present.”

  Her face and neck were on fire and her throat closed. All she could manage was a squeaky, “No.”

  “Why didn’t you wake me up before you left?”

  She clenched her hand and cleared her throat. “You were asleep.”

  “I was resting up for round two. God, you were hot last night.” He looked closer at her and his brows lowered. “Are you embarrassed?” he asked, genuinely perplexed.

  “Yes!”

  “Why? No one can hear me.”

  “Oh, my God,” she whispered and walked away before her hair caught fire. When she returned to the press box, Darby was there. And he’d brought Caroline.

  “Hey, you two,” she greeted as she sat down. “If I’d known you wanted to come to another game, Caroline, I would have invited you to come with me.”

  “It’s okay. I’m really not much of a fan, but Darby called and I wasn’t doing anything else.” She shrugged. “I tried to call you last night. Where were you?”

  “Nowhere. I unplugged my phone.”

  “I hate when you do that.” Caroline studied her a moment, then leaned closer. “You’re lying.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are. I’ve known you all your life. I know when you’re lying.” Her gaze narrowed. “Where were you?”

  Jane leaned forward enough to get a glimpse of Darby. He was on his cell phone. “I was out.”

  “With a man?” When Jane didn’t answer, Caroline gasped. “One of the hockey players!”

  “Shhh!”

  “Who?” she whispered and looked around as if the CIA were eavesdropping. Caroline considered herself bilingual and resorted to the language she and Jane had spoken since grade school. Pig Latin. “Ell-tay e-may, ane-jay.”

  Jane rolled her eyes. “Later.” She opened her laptop as the light show started on the ice below. During the game, she took notes and tried to keep her eyes off the goalie sitting on the bench, his arms folded across his chest, watching the game. Several times he turned and looked up into the press box. Three sections up, their gazes met and her heart got stuck in her throat.

  And she looked away. She’d never felt so unsure in her life. And for a woman who took charge of things and proceeded accordingly, she hated feeling so uncertain. It put knots in her stomach and made her head ache.

  �
��Jane?” Caroline shook her shoulder as if she’d been trying to get her attention.

  “What?”

  “I called your name three times.”

  “Sorry, I’m thinking about my article,” she lied.

  “Darby wants us to meet him for a drink after the game.”

  Jane leaned forward and looked at the assistant general manager. She doubted Darby wanted her to tag along. “I can’t,” she said, which was the truth, and which she also figured Darby knew. “I have to talk to the players and write the article before deadline.” She also had to put together the interview she’d done with Luc. “You two go without me.”

  Darby made an effort to look sorry. “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Positive.” She almost felt sorry for Darby. She loved Caroline, but her friend was going to stomp Darby’s nerdy heart beneath her Ferragamos. Once again she thought perhaps she should warn Darby, but she had her own heart to worry about.

  The Chinooks lost to the Bruins two-three. After the game, Jane took a deep breath and entered the locker room again. Luc’s pads hung in his stall, but he was gone. She let out her pent-up breath, feeling an odd mix of relief and anger. The horrid push and pull of falling in love. Luc had known she would be in the locker room after the game, and he’d left without harassing her. The jerk.

  Jane interviewed Coach Nystrom and the second-string netminder, who’d made twenty saves out of twenty-three shots on goal. She talked to Hammer and Fish, then, with her briefcase and jacket in one hand, she made her way toward the tunnel.

  Luc stood near the exit watching her walk toward him. He wore his navy Hugo Boss and a maroon silk tie and he was so handsome he made her mouth water.

  “I have something for you,” he said and pushed himself away from the wall.

  “What?”

  He looked behind her as a sports-beat reporter from Jane’s rival paper passed.