Game For Love: Love Games (Kindle Worlds)

by Mara Jacobs

  “Oh. You’ll be there? Tomorrow night? For dinner with my family?” She saw a flash of something in his eyes, but she couldn’t quite read it.

  “I had intended on being there. But if you don’t want me to meet your family…”

  “It’s not that. This was planned weeks ago, because I’d be leaving soon and wouldn’t see them for a while. I just thought that maybe you’d rather not be inundated with my family. I’d love for you to meet them, Declan, but please don’t feel it’s necessary.”

  He nodded. “Good. I’d like to meet them too. It’ll be fun. Okay. So, a stop at the grocery store on the way home. And then straight to bed for you, little girl. It must be way past your bedtime.”

  It was seven in the evening. Even if they spent an inordinate amount of time at the store, they’d be home by nine.

  “Oh yes, way past my bedtime,” she said.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Friday morning at the studio, Marlee ran through her lecture with the basketball jargon that Declan had written for her substituted in for the football terms. It went smoothly. She taped the entire lecture one last time, but felt confident that she knew the terms and, more importantly, what they meant and that they enhanced her message.

  She also played the videotape for Declan that she used to open her lecture. She had an advanced telecom class at BC do it for her. It contained footage from all over the world of poor public speakers interspersed with shots of text, tweets, and Facebook posts filled with emoticons and poor abbreviations. All edited together, it demonstrated the breakdown of communication and its effects on poor speech and public speaking. Sadly, it was all too easy to find footage to include in the montage. The tape ended with a college football player being barely understandable while being interviewed, with “huh,” “and, like,” and “I was all” being the mainstays of his answers.

  That was where she got the idea to start her talk with a football analogy coming on the heels of the athlete’s footage. It would smoothly segue into her opening lines and the football metaphors she had sprinkled throughout.

  She’d seen the montage before, of course, but enjoyed watching it again as she showed it to Declan.

  Declan did one more tape of himself, which he’d bring, along with all the others, with him to New York. He, too, seemed confident with where he stood. He still had doubts about his future, but they weren’t based in insecurities about his ability to be comfortable in front of the camera. He had Marlee to thank for that. Even just watching how she handled herself when she did her lecture gave him ideas of things he’d like to try.

  The way she’d pause after a particularly important thought. The minimal gestures she made, so that when she did it brought great emphasis. He’d learned a lot from her. He felt at ease now. About that, anyway.

  The unknowns of his future still loomed heavily before him. The whole broadcasting thing still didn’t sit one hundred percent right with him. It felt…forced, somehow. It was a natural progression for former players, particularly quarterbacks, to go into broadcasting, but it had never really been in Declan’s plans. Probably because before last Sunday, Declan hadn’t given any thought to the day after he’d step off the field for the last time. He would never even discuss it when his agent or others would bring it up, preferring to concentrate on the career at hand—winning games.

  Now, faced with the rest of his life in front of him, he had decided to give this option his attention first. There were other possibilities. Things that would still keep him in contact with football. The Pumas front office had told him there would always be a place with them, perhaps as a scout. Declan knew that the offer, real as it was, was made out of loyalty, and he wouldn’t take an offer out of allegiance alone.

  There was coaching. The problem with a superstar becoming a head coach was that his notoriety often got in the way of being able to lead the team.

  No, broadcasting was his best shot at a future. And, even though he wasn’t completely sold on the idea, being a fierce competitor, Declan wanted to excel at this as he had in his previous vocation.

  He told Marlee all of this as they sat in the large chairs from the talk show set. They had the TV cart pointed at them, having just watched the tape of Declan’s morning session.

  “I’m glad if you think working together helped, Declan…”

  “Somehow I feel there’s a ‘but’ that goes with that.”

  Their chairs were close, side by side, but turned toward each other so Declan and Marlee were facing each other. Declan was once again in a knit shirt and jeans. Marlee was adamant that she’d been casual long enough and had donned another suit for today’s work. At least this one had a skirt instead of slacks, so he could see some of her wondrous legs.

  “There is, I guess. From all that you’ve just said…I don’t know…it just seems like you’re only doing this audition because you think that’s what ex-quarterbacks do, not because you have any real interest in it.”

  “I guess that’s true. Or partially true, anyway. I should probably take a year off and think about it all.” Marlee seemed to agree with that and was nodding, so Declan added, “But my agent says I have to strike while the iron’s hot. That I’m a name right now and I should capitalize on that.”

  “That makes sense.” Her voice was soft, but lacked conviction. “I guess I don’t know what to tell you. Obviously I’d like you to be happy. It just doesn’t seem like the idea of this is exciting to you.”

  “Exciting? No. But it’s a way to stay in the game while maintaining some dignity. That’s important to me, Marlee. I’m scared to death that in a year I’ll miss it so much I’ll come out of retirement and make a fool of myself. Or that I’ll spend all my time on the golf course betting on closest to the pin with CEOs of major corporations who want to say they golfed with Declan Tate.”

  “Granted, I don’t know you very well, Declan, but—”

  He didn’t let her finish her thought, but leaned forward and took her hands. “No. You haven’t known me for very long. It’s not the same thing. You do know me well. So well it scares you just a little, doesn’t it?”

  As Marlee sat in silence, unable—or unwilling—to answer him, Declan saw his shot and decided to take it. He wanted to show her how it could be for them for more than just this week. He wanted her to know what they could be for…a lifetime?

  He’d been aware of his growing feelings all through the week, but now it hit him with such clarity that it almost physically pushed him back in his chair.

  He was in love with Marlee. He would always be in love with Marlee. And she loved him too. He was certain of it. She just wouldn’t allow herself to see it. To see them. Together. Long term. He leaned toward her, wanting to make love to her. Make love. Not just have incredible sex.

  She put a hand on his chest, stopping him. Looking him in the eye, she whispered, “Turn on the camera.”

  She didn’t have to tell him twice.

  Marlee felt a little off-kilter. Declan had sucker-punched her with his comment about her knowing him and being afraid of it. Then he’d gotten this passionate look in his eyes and he’d leaned in to kiss her. Different from the other passionate looks he’d given her all week.

  Declan seemed determined to make her come to terms with her feelings about him, yet he had never mentioned his to her. Oh, pillow talk, sure. How much he wanted her, how hot she made him. All in the throes of passion. But outside of bed? Marlee replayed all their conversations. Lots of talk about how alike they were. But nothing about how he felt about her.

  He returned to his chair after turning on the camera, but didn’t make another move toward her, just watched her.

  She couldn’t believe it yesterday when she’d agreed to being filmed. She also couldn’t believe how much hotter it had made the whole thing. And they’d been plenty hot all week.

  And she trusted Declan. Knew he would never show the tape to anyone. Justin had begged her to let him film them together, but she’d always said no. Maybe s
ome part of her instinctively knew she shouldn’t trust Justin. Obviously she trusted Declan more than any man she’d ever been with.

  She lifted her hands to her head to squeeze her temples and hopefully squeeze out her thoughts. Declan caught her hands in his. He gave a gentle tug to them, to pull Marlee out of her chair and onto his lap.

  His hard body was a safe haven for her. This was what she needed. To make love to Declan. To let her body feel, instead of letting her mind run. To have him take her as swiftly and roughly as he had yesterday. To blot out the aching that had begun in her heart. Had begun the first night she met Declan and knew there couldn’t possibly be any future for them. It had been easy to block it out with her other senses dancing all week long. Another slam-bam session with Declan would have her body tingling so strongly her heart wouldn’t dare speak up.

  She put an arm around his neck and leaned her body into his. She became soft and pliant the second he wrapped his broad arm around her waist. His other arm draped across her knees and his hand played with the hem of her skirt that was just above her knees.

  She kicked off her shoes and silently applauded her decision to wear a skirt today. She’d also had the forethought to wear thigh-high silk stockings instead of pantyhose. She didn’t assume they’d make love today at the studio, but their intense coupling yesterday on the desk, and knowing they had a very light workday ahead of them, made her prepare for the possibility.

  It was the Boy Scouts’ motto to be prepared, but Marlee tried to make it her credo as well. One quick movement to get her panties off and she could have Declan pounding inside her, taking her to another fantastic high.

  She lifted her free hand to his zipper, having to shift her weight to her outside hip because she was pressed so tightly to Declan that she needed room to get to her destination. Declan’s cock. She could feel him becoming erect under her bottom and she squirmed to feel him grow. She tugged on the back of his neck, sending him a silent message of what she needed.

  Declan.

  Her hand became more forceful against his neck, kneading the strong muscles, increasing the pressure as her need built.

  Her other hand was pulling at his shirt, trying to free it from his jeans so she’d have better access to him. Her fingers tangled in the cloth, slowing her down, and her urgency manifested itself in a moan that came from deep in her chest and was filled with sorrow, passion, and need.

  He grabbed her hand and held it in his own, away from him, back to rest on her knee. It was not done as a sexy maneuver; in fact, they more resembled a child on Santa’s lap than the carnal position she was craving.

  “Sshh, baby, we’ll get there, but we need to slow down,” he said, his voice low due to his arousal. He hadn’t whispered in the seductive pitch that made her wild, nor did he use that commanding voice that made her obey his every word while she rose to new heights. No, he kept his voice level and firm, seemingly wanting her to know the difference.

  And she did. Her head jerked up from where she was just about to bite his neck to spur him on. “Huh?” She had an astounding vocabulary, but “huh” was all her muddled mind could come up with.

  “Let’s slow down, Marlee.” His left hand gently stroked her waist where he held her, and his right hand let go of hers and began to softly caress her knees and calves. He blanketed light kisses on her neck, bare to him with her hair back again in its regular bun.

  This was different. She could feel the difference in him. Was it for the camera? She didn’t think so; he hadn’t been different yesterday.

  He was doing the sweetest things to her neck.

  She didn’t want sweet. Not now, and certainly not with Declan. Sweet and tender with Declan would be her downfall. It was all she could do to keep this whole encounter at fling level, to not let her consciousness confront the reality that she and Declan were so much alike, had so much in common, could be so good together. If she registered that truth, there’d be no hope for her, and when Declan walked out of her life on Sunday, she’d be devastated.

  She waited for the soft kisses to turn to nips and bites on her sensitive skin, for his hand to suddenly leave her knee and plunge deep under her skirt with his fingers searching, but neither happened.

  Her body tensed with this new development. He wanted to go slow? Just when she needed the mind numbing that down-and-dirty sex with Declan always brought her? Uhhh…no. She’d bring him back to the fold. And she knew how to do it. Declan could bring her to fever pitch with his words, but she had noticed what her verbal responses did to him. Tit for tat.

  She pulled her head back, gripped the back of his neck tightly, and forced him to leave her neck and meet her gaze. She brought her lips crashing to his, her tongue plunging into his mouth, seeking out the warm moistness of his. She tangled with it for a few seconds, then drew her head back as abruptly as she had brought them together. She had just wanted to tease, to taste, to get his attention, and now she’d get him back on track. Her eyes locked on his once more.

  “No. Not slow, Declan. I want you inside me. Hard. Deep. Fast.” She waited a moment for her words to sink in. She saw his pupils dilate, his eyes going near black, the jade green that she loved to gaze at nearly eclipsed. His erection jumped underneath her and she ground her bottom into him, eliciting a hard moan from deep in his throat. But he kept his hands quiet on her, his touch still soft, barely there. He seemed to be fighting some internal battle, and Marlee knew she needed to pull out the big guns.

  “Give me your cock, Declan. Now. I want your cock inside me.”

  She had never spoken so blatantly, so boldly, and she was shocked that the words hadn’t stuttered out, or that she hadn’t choked on them. No, they seemed to roll out, with a conviction she hadn’t even realized was inside her. Not even as much as a blush rose to her cheeks. The words were true. It was what she wanted, and that alone was what allowed her eyes to never waver from Declan’s as she made her request.

  She knew the incongruity of such words coming from her conservative, reserved, seemingly repressed mouth was a thrill to Declan. The thought that he could make the professor talk dirty excited him. Truth was, it was as titillating to her as it was to him, and she suspected Declan knew that also.

  Chapter Fourteen

  To not take Marlee up on her desire was harder for Declan than remaining in the pocket with a 350-pound linebacker bearing down on him. In those situations, he had to stick to his plan and rely on his faith that one of his own linemen would come out of nowhere and take out the threat.

  Just like that scenario, Declan now had to have faith that his plan of slow, tender lovemaking would allow Marlee and him to make it to the end zone. For him to make the ultimate score. Making Marlee admit she loved Declan as much as he loved her.

  “It’ll happen, baby, all in good time.” His voice was gentle and he kept contact with her eyes. He tried to keep his growing arousal out of his voice, wanted it to have a calming effect on her, so unlike what he normally tried to evoke from her with his words and tone. “I need to touch you first, Marlee. I need to see you, all that sweet, soft, white skin you have underneath this suit.”

  He slowly undid the buttons to her suit jacket. There were only three, but he paused after each one to place a tender kiss on her cheek, her eyes, her nose. He slid the jacket off of her and dropped it to the carpeted floor of the set beside the chair.

  Her blouse was satin, a collarless confection in a deep, dusty rose color. Declan couldn’t help thinking that the color of her top was hauntingly reminiscent of Marlee’s nipples when he had sucked them for a long period of time.

  He brushed the thought from his mind. If he was going to block out Marlee’s urgency, both in words and actions, he had to be able to rein in his own ruminations or she’d have her way and it would be over in a matter of minutes.

  The blouse had several pearly buttons, and Declan once again paused after he undid each one for a kiss. This time they were all aimed at Marlee’s mouth.

  When sh
e saw where his aim was headed, she licked her lips in anticipation of some of their soul-deep, mouth-grinding kisses, but again he kept her off guard. Instead, his lips barely touched hers. His mouth was soft and warm as it grazed over Marlee’s, never daring to enter, only to entice. Button. Brush of lips. Button. Brush of lips. He was taking his time and she was losing her mind. And he liked it.

  She tried again to force him to her, tugging at his neck, trying to invade his mouth with her tongue, but he was too strong for her. His strength was in the gentleness of his actions, the sweetness of his kisses, the delicate way his hand stroked her knees. His hand stayed there, never daring to rise to her heat.

  “Mmmm. Isn’t this nice? You’ll see, baby. My way this time. It’ll be good, Marlee. Just enjoy the ride.”

  Her head dropped back just as he undid her last button, and Declan knew that he’d chosen the right game plan. Her face showed it all. Her arousal was plain—the parting of her lips, the eyes open only to slits, the heat creeping up her pale neck.

  But it was different. She was feeling, and, more importantly, she was thinking. It was deeper. Taking her there slowly was allowing her to grasp the emotions as they happened, not become overwhelmed with them, as it was when they normally came together so quickly.

  He took off her blouse and set it on top of her jacket. Her lacy peach bra was similar to the one the first time Declan had seen her this way. Had it only been five days ago? It seemed like an eternity. He couldn’t remember a time before Marlee, any other woman before Marlee. Her breasts swelled above the cups of her bra, and he had to take another glance at her passion-filled face to reinforce his decision to go slow with her.

  “Marlee, God, you’re so beautiful like this.” She slowly lifted her head where it had been arched and looked into his eyes. “Your breasts, so milky white; even now your nipples are hardening, waiting for my touch. The arousal, the anticipation, it’s climbing your neck, your sexy, classy neck, and resting in that incredible face. You’re burning up, Marlee.”