"The only reason I pushed you away was because your teammate walked in on us. I was embarrassed."
Something resembling relief flashed across his face, but only for a second. He shook his head, his brows pulled low over his dark eyes. "I still shouldn't have done what I did. I was out of line."
He was serious! He honestly thought he'd done something wrong. Savannah didn't know whether to laugh or cry or…or…
She stepped closer, so close she had to tilt her head back to look him in the eyes. Heat from his body washed over her, flaming the desire that had been smoldering inside her for the last few months. She watched as awareness flashed in his eyes, as his pupils dilated and his lips parted on a harsh breath.
"Do you know why I was embarrassed?"
Aaron shook his head, his voice nothing but a harsh whisper when he spoke. "No."
"I was embarrassed because if that guy had walked in five minutes later, he would have found you on the floor, naked, under me."
And oh, dear God, what had she been thinking, telling him that? She could see the shock on his flushed face, in the way his eyes widened and his breath left in a shocked gasp that she would have never heard if she hadn't been so close.
Her own face was heating from embarrassment. It would be so easy to turn around and run away and hide. Aaron wouldn't follow her, wouldn't ask her what she meant. And then she'd probably never see him again, except for the occasional wave across their yards, because he wouldn't know how to act.
Which meant she had two choices: she could either run away—
Or she could take the lead.
When it came down to it, there was really only one choice.
She curled her hand into his shirt and pulled him closer, pushing up on her bare toes so she could capture his mouth with her own.
Chapter Six
He would have found you on the floor, naked, under me.
Aaron was still trying to wrap his mind around those words when he realized Savannah was kissing him.
Savannah was kissing him.
He froze, not knowing what to do. What the fuck? He knew what to do. Her mouth was soft and warm against his, the curves of her soft body pressed against him. What he needed to do was wrap his arms around her and pull her even closer, to delve his tongue into the hot recess of her mouth. To hold her and kiss her back.
He didn't move. He couldn't. He was thrown so completely off-guard that he was literally frozen to the spot. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not that he didn't want it to—fuck, he did, more than he'd allowed himself to admit. He'd been thinking of nothing else for the last few months.
No, that wasn't true. He'd been thinking about doing a hell of a lot more than just kissing her. But he never thought he'd actually be doing it.
Only he wasn't doing anything, except standing there like some fucking statue, completely out of his mind with shock.
Savannah's mouth left his, the warmth of her kiss replaced by the cold air circulated by the air conditioner. Her lips were wet and swollen, her cheeks flushed, her chest rising and falling with each short breath.
And he still couldn't fucking move.
Her lids fluttered open, revealing hazel eyes glazed with passion. She blinked, a slow up-and-down of her eyelids, and the passion faded away. She released her grip on his shirt then stepped back, her gaze focused on the middle of his chest.
"Guess I read things wrong, huh?" Her voice was pitched just above a whisper, infused with the tiniest bit of humor that seemed just a little forced.
"Savannah—"
"No, it's okay. Not a big deal." She reached out and smoothed his shirt, then let her hand drop to her side.
Aaron wanted to reach for her, to pull her into his arms and tell her it was a big deal. To reassure her she hadn't misread anything. But his tongue was suddenly stuck to the roof of his mouth, the words lodged in his throat.
"So." Savannah took another step back, the smile on her face too wide, too bright. "Was that all you came over for? To apologize? Because if it is, I think we're probably even now, huh?"
"I came to ask if you wanted to go to lunch." And fuck, that wasn't what he meant to say, not now. Earlier maybe, before she had kissed him, but not now.
"Lunch?" Her brows shot up in surprise as twin patches of red stained her cheeks. "Lunch. Okay then. Um, wow. I really did misread things, didn't I? Maybe I need to rethink Antarctica. Maybe Siberia would be better."
"What?"
"Nothing. Just me, talking to myself. Lunch, huh? Thanks, but I already ate and—"
"A date. A lunch date. Next week." He forced the words from his mouth, inwardly wincing at how awkward they sounded, how uncertain. Savannah glanced at him then quickly looked away. She pushed the hair behind her ear and he noticed that some of the red was fading from her face. That was a good thing, right? It meant she wasn't embarrassed anymore.
Didn't it?
"Next week." She frowned then shook her head. "I can't. I'm meeting with a client in DC next week."
"Oh." Aaron hid his disappointment—maybe a little too well because Savannah peered at him through narrowed eyes. Great, now she probably thought he hadn't been serious. Or maybe she thought he was just humoring her. Or…hell if he knew. He wasn't used to this dating shit, had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do now. He asked her out, she said no. Should he ask again? Because maybe she really did have meetings next week and she wasn't just blowing him off.
She wouldn't have kissed him like that if she was blowing him off.
"What about the following week?"
"For what?"
"For lunch."
"You're serious?"
"Of course, I'm serious."
"About a lunch date?"
"Yeah. A lunch date."
"You're not just asking because you're feeling sorry for me after the way I threw myself at you?"
"You didn't throw yourself at me."
A small laugh fell from her mouth, the sound filled with an odd mixture of humor and sarcasm. "Aaron, exactly how long have you been out of the dating scene?"
"Probably too long."
"Well, then, you'll have to trust me. I threw myself at you." She offered him a sad smile then started to move past him. "I appreciate the offer but really, you don't need to try to make me feel better. I'm a big girl. I thought you were interested but I misread the situation. You don't—"
Aaron grabbed her arm as she moved past him, spinning her around then catching her when she stumbled against him. She placed her hands against his chest, her touch searing him through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. He held his breath, waiting for her to push him away.
She didn't.
"Savannah, I don't feel sorry for you. And I am interested."
Brows lifted above hazel eyes filled with surprise and just a touch of humor. "So, I didn't misread?"
"No."
"Then why were you just standing there?"
Aaron hesitated for the briefest second, wondering what to tell her. He settled for the truth. "You caught me off-guard. And…I wasn't sure—I mean—"
"Aaron?"
He swallowed the jumble of words tangled in his throat, his mind going blank under the searing heat of Savannah's gaze. "Yeah?"
"Shut up and kiss me."
Whatever hesitation he still had evaporated at her words. He tightened his hold around her waist and dipped his head, his mouth closing over hers with a desperate need that surprised him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his. Her breasts were soft and firm, the tight peaks of her nipples hard against his chest. He groaned and deepened the kiss, his tongue meeting hers. Hot and wet. Deep and slow. He palmed her round ass and pulled her hips against his, swallowed her sigh as she rubbed against his straining cock.
Shit. Fuck. What was he doing? He had only meant for this to be a kiss, no matter how hard his cock throbbed with need. He groaned and started to pull away but her arms tightened around his neck, holding him in place.
/> He relaxed, just the tiniest bit, reveling in the feel of Savannah. He dragged his hand along the soft curves of her ass, along the flare of her hips and the damp flesh of her back as he ran his fingers under her shirt. She sighed again, the breathy moan unleashing the last of his hesitancy.
He dragged his mouth from hers, pressed kisses along her jaw, up to the sensitive spot just behind her ear. A tremor went through her and her nails dug into the hard flesh of his biceps. He kissed that soft spot again, playfully nipped it with his teeth, heard her breath rush out in a hiss.
He pulled back, ready to apologize, but her glazed eyes met his and she shook her head. "Don't stop. Please."
The need in her voice matched the same need coursing through him. Rough. Hot. Desperate. He dipped his head and caught her mouth again, drinking from her, losing himself in the sweet taste of her. He slid his hands along her sides, grabbed the edge of her shirt, and eased it up.
He pulled away, yanked the shirt over her head, then stared down at the rosy flesh of her bared breasts. Full, soft and firm, the hardened nipples tightened into twin peaks of dusky rose.
Aaron swallowed, his cock straining against the zipper of his shorts, threatening to bust free as she reached up and rolled each nipple between her thumb and forefinger before gently pinching.
Fuck. He was going to fucking lose it, right here, right now, if she kept doing that. Did she know? Could she see it in the set of his jaw, in the way he held himself rigid, almost afraid to move?
Yes, dammit, she knew. The knowledge was in her teasing smile, in the way her tongue darted out and swept across her full lower lip. "Do you like that?"
He cleared his throat, forced his gaze to hers. "A little too much."
She smiled again then reached for his hand and he held his breath, waiting. But instead of guiding his hand to her breast, she tugged, leading him through the living room and up the stairs, down a short hallway and into her bedroom.
"Savannah—"
She cut him off with a deep kiss that took his breath away. Then she was leading him to the bed and pushing him down, her hands roaming over his body, her mouth touching and teasing his flesh as she pulled his shirt off. She kissed her way down his body, the tips of her nails gently scoring his ribs, his stomach. She undid his shorts and pushed them down and off, shedding her own shorts at the same time.
And then, fuck, she was straddling him, rubbing her wet heat against the throbbing length of his cock as she kissed his chest. Her lips closed over the flat of his nipple, her teeth gently biting before she pulled it into her mouth and sucked.
He groaned, long and loud, knowing he needed to fight for control, knowing he should roll her to her back and kiss his way down her body. To taste and lick until her hips bucked under his mouth, until her body clamped around his tongue. To pleasure her until she was limp and boneless, until she begged him to stop.
No, what he really wanted to do was grab her hips and hold her in place as he drove his cock into her, hard and deep. But fuck, he couldn't even do that, not with the way she was sliding along his body, driving him to the brink of insanity with each little touch. Each little caress. Each little kiss and flick of her tongue.
And then her mouth closed over his hard length and he nearly lost it right then and there. It had been too fucking long for him, for his body to endure this exquisite torture.
Endure? Who the fuck was he kidding?
He reached down and curled his hand in Savannah's hair, holding the soft strands in a loose fist as her mouth drove him to the brink over and over. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, his jaw clenched as he struggled for control. Close, so fucking close—
"Savannah." Her name was nothing more than a harsh whisper ripped from his throat. He tugged, gently easing her mouth from his cock, then pulled her along the length of his body until he could claim her mouth with his.
He wanted inside her. Now. No, not want—need. Hot and frantic, clawing at his skin, shredding the last of his restraint. He twisted and rolled, settled himself between her legs, the tip of his cock poised at her wet entrance.
A wisp of sanity returned and he rolled away, his lips clamped over a string of profanity. He inhaled through his nose, his fist curling in the downy softness of the comforter.
"I don't have any condoms." Fuck. Of course, he didn't. Because he didn't do this kind of thing. He wasn't like some of his teammates, didn't shove condoms into his wallet and carry them around, replenishing the supply every fucking week.
Fuck. Shit, fuck, damn.
"I do."
Aaron's eyes snapped open and he turned his head, his gaze landing on the pale globes of Savannah's ass as she leaned over the side of the bed and opened the drawer of her nightstand. Then she was kneeling beside him, her slender hands rolling the condom down the throbbing length of his cock as she kissed him.
He wrapped his arms around her and rolled once more, tucking her beneath him before driving into her. She gasped, the sound turning into a long sigh of pleasure as he rocked into her.
Her eyes closed and her head tilted back, her hair fanning across the pillow as he drove into her. She gasped again, louder this time, then bit down on her lower lip as she reached for him. Nails scored his shoulder, his arm, his ass. Their slick bodies moved together, her hips meeting each hungry thrust of his own.
Faster. Harder. Deeper. Over and over until her legs tightened around his waist and her back arched. His name fell from her lips, a desperate cry as she shattered around him.
Aaron clenched his jaw, drove himself deeper. Once. Twice. Again. One final time until his own climax crashed over him and he fell on top of her, oblivious to everything except the tiny sighs of the woman beneath him.
Chapter Seven
Aaron stretched his arm over his head, a contented smile on his face as Savannah ran her fingers over his body. Contented? He almost laughed. That word didn't even come close to what he was feeling.
Contented? Yes. Relaxed. Sated. At ease. Peaceful. But none of them were right. There was a better word out there, he knew it. But right now, his mind was too preoccupied to come up with it.
Savannah had been cataloging the different bumps and scars on his battered body for the last fifteen minutes. She would trace each one with her finger, press a kiss against it, then ask what it was from.
She reached the smooth scar running just above his hip bone, tracing it like she had the others. He held his breath as she dipped her head, the ends of her hair trailing against the bare skin of his inner thigh. Would she—?
No. She pressed her lips against the scar then draped her arm over his stomach and rested her chin on her forearm. The glint of amusement in her eyes told him she knew exactly what he'd been hoping. "What's that one from?"
"Skate blade."
She laughed then leaned down to press another gentle kiss against the scar. "Yeah, right."
"No, seriously, it is."
Horror flashed across her face, followed by disbelief. "You're teasing me."
"No, it really was from a skate blade. Maybe eight or nine years ago, when I was playing in Tampa."
"That's…I can't even imagine. Did it hurt?"
"Not really. I only missed seven minutes of the period while they taped it up."
She pushed up on her elbow, her eyes wide with shock. "You mean you kept playing?"
"Yeah. Why wouldn't I?"
"Because—because—" She sputtered some more then finally shook her head and moved up, stretching out beside him. "That just sounds barbaric."
"It's hockey. It's a tough sport."
"And how long have you been playing?"
"Seventeen years."
"Really? That long?"
"If you only count my time playing pro and semi-pro, yeah. But I started playing when I was four."
Her mouth dropped open then quickly snapped shut. He could see she didn't want to believe him, that she thought he was joking. "Wow. That's—"
"A really long time."
"Yeah, it is. And the Bombers—they're semi-pro or pro?"
"Semi-pro. We're the minor league team for the Banners, down in Baltimore."
"So, do you play for them, too?"
"No. Not unless they get really, really desperate. My time in the pros is over." He shifted, draping his arm around her shoulders as he trailed his fingers along her arm. "Haven't you ever been to a hockey game?"
"Nope. I watched part of one on television once. Some guys in suits were bringing out a big cup or something at the end."
Aaron choked on his laughter then waved Savannah's curious glance away. "I'll explain later. But we need to get you to a game."
"That would be fun." She smothered a yawn then curled closer to him. He liked the way she felt next to him, with her head resting on his shoulder and her fingers tracing small circles on his chest. What would it be like to fall asleep with her next to him? To wake up with her body curled against his own?
No sooner had the thoughts come to mind then he shoved them away. He didn't need to be going there. Not now. Not for a long time. Maybe not ever.
And he had a feeling she'd agree with him. She deserved a hell of a lot more than he could give her. Why the hell would a woman like her even want to be with him? The end of his career was fast approaching. Not this year, maybe not even next. But it was coming, creeping along the horizon.
And he had two daughters to think of, too. A woman didn't want to be saddled with someone else's kids, especially when those kids wanted nothing to do with their own father. Maybe Isabelle didn't feel that way, but Brooke certainly did. And she—
Panic sliced through him and he pushed up on his elbow, his gaze darting to the clock on Savannah's nightstand. "Shit!"
"What is it?"
"The kids. They got home twenty minutes ago. Fuck." He rolled away from Savannah and jumped out of bed, searching for his clothes. "How did I completely forget about them? Fuck."
"I'm sure they're fine—"
"Brooke's probably set the house on fire by now. Or stole the car. Or both." He jammed one leg into his shorts, nearly tripped as he tried to shove the other one in.
Playing It Safe Page 5
