"I want to." I bring my lips closer to hers and brush her soft cheek. She pushes me away. "We can't."
Tears in her eyes, she runs away from me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CAMILLE
"You look much more prepared for this evening's festivities than you did earlier," Janet says, eyeing my puffy outfit.
"I know I look ridiculous but I have to admit; it's warm," I reply. I sit next to her around the outdoor fire pit.
Coffee and hot cocoa canisters line a table.
Janet stands up as the rest of the team and their spouses gather around the flames.
"Alright, it's going to be Yankees versus everyone else in this snowball fight."
There are several whoops and hollers to this proclamation.
"The only rules are: there are zero rules. It's a free-for-all. Each team will have thirty minutes to prepare their snow forts. If you get hit with a snowball, you're out. It's the honor system, so it's between you and God himself if you're a cheater."
Everyone laughs at this.
"I'll be here by the fire pit if anyone needs me. I'm entirely too old for all of these shenanigans. On your marks! Get set! Go!"
I watch everyone leave.
Janet pulls me into a standing position.
"You think you're not a part of this? Not a chance, honey. Not a single chance. Get out there and make Texas proud."
I groan but allow Janet to push me into the fray.
I wander over to the tree line, snow coming up to nearly my knees. Thankfully the team has plowed a clear path with their own legs before me.
I see Josh huddled, making markings in the snow. Several people have their phones out to illuminate the battle plan.
"We make a fort four feet high. You, you, you, you, you, you, and you - you're on brick-duty. The rest of us are balling up snowballs. Ready? Break!"
I laugh along with everyone else.
Monica, the woman with the baby at the opening dinner, sees me and huddles next to me.
"You're properly dressed but I’m freezing," she says.
"How's Jack?"
"Oh, he's great. Growing like a weed.” She looks up at the sky where the flakes are falling thicker and faster by the second. "He's probably warm in his bed right now. I'm jealous."
I laugh.
"Agreed. Well, we better get ball-rolling unless we want the wrath of Josh to come down upon us both."
Monica laughs and we get to work.
In thirty minutes, we have a full-on snow arsenal.
Janet cups her mouth and yells.
"Thirty minutes are up! May God have mercy on your souls."
There's an almighty roar from the Yankees as they make a full court press towards us.
Everyone on our team is either ducking or grabbing snowballs. Within seconds, the air is filled with white powder. I can't see anything, so I do what I always did in grade school when we played dodgeball: I hide.
I tuck myself in the far base corner of our snow fort and watch everyone else stream out of the fortress to die with honor.
I'm suddenly overcome with a case of the giggles. I lean into the sensation, grateful to have a chance to be happy for absolutely no reason.
Tears are streaming down my face and freezing. My eyelashes might freeze shut next.
"Don't cry, it's only snowballs," Blake says.
I stop laughing immediately.
"What are you doing on this side of the line?"
Blake stands in mock salute.
"I crossed enemy lines to rescue the fair princess from her snow tower." Blake pulls me to my feet. "If you hide in the woods, your team will win." He points to his own jacket. "I'm already out anyway."
"That's cheating."
Blake shrugs and dusts snow off my shoulder. I suddenly wish his bare hand were touching my bare skin with none of these pesky layers of clothing in the way.
"How can it be cheating if there aren't any rules?"
I decide to go for it. Why not? This is all in good fun anyway.
"Okay. Lead the way."
"Oh no, a princess can't possibly go on foot. Besides, the drifts out there would come up to your chin."
Before I can even protest, Blake has swept me off of my feet and is carrying me into the forest. Nobody sees us; everyone is engaged in an all-out snow ball war behind us while we flee to safety.
"I can't believe you're carrying me," I say to Blake.
He laughs and the rumble of his chest vibrates into my body. I don't want to admit to myself how good it feels to be in his strong arms. I don't want to even think about it.
But of course I do.
We make it into the woods and Blake sets me down.
We're standing stomach to stomach with the snow falling around us like some kind of fairy tale.
"Thanks for leading me to safety," I say.
Blake nods.
"It was my pleasure."
And in that instant, I can't say no to him. Not like this. Not with the both of us standing in the middle of a real-life snowglobe.
When his lips find mine, I don't push him away. We kiss and fireworks shoot off in my brain. I wrap my gloved hands around the back of his head and pull him closer.
He tastes salty and sweet all at once. The screams from the snowball fight have faded into nothing. I can smell his shampoo. It's citrusy and clean.
His warm tongue overlaps mine and I feel like tearing off his clothes and having sex with him right here, right now, damn who sees us.
When I finally pull away, I'm actually lightheaded.
"That was...nice," I say awkwardly.
"That was fucking hot, you mean," Blake says, cocking his head and giving me a full smile.
"It's actually freezing cold," I say childishly.
I'm overcome with giggles once again. I can't seem to stop laughing and soon enough, Blake joins in with me.
"Hazel would love this," I say. "She would love all of this snow."
"Who's Hazel?" he asks.
“My daughter,” I say without thinking.
“You have a daughter?” His face falls. “How do I not know that already?”
“I keep her away from the team. My dad always made me tag along when I was growing up. I always resented it.”
“A daughter…” He has a faraway look in his eyes.
At that moment, we are interrupted by yelling.
"Yankees win!" Janet yells.
Blake glances at me.
"You ready to be the wrench in the plans?"
I nod.
"You stay here, though. I don't want people thinking we were..."
"You don't want people thinking that we were doing exactly what we were doing?" His smile is so sexy I nearly trip over myself on my way out of the woods.
"For Texas!" I yell my battle cry and throw a snowball at the lone Yankee left on the field.
I hear cheers and suddenly I'm being buffeted by two dozen football players. Somebody lifts me up into the air and they pass me around, snowy mosh pit style before the crowd sets me down on the stone patio next to the fire pit.
"Well done, Texas, well done," Janet says. "The winner gets...nothing. Bragging rights, I guess. I didn't really think any further than that."
"Drinks! Yankees buy drinks."
Blake winks at me as he says it and I know one thing: I'm sleeping with Blake Merriman tonight.
Damn the consequences.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CAMILLE
“I think you cheated,” Mason says to me and Josh at the bar.
He’s six shots of tequila into the night. I’m behind him with four.
“Janet said there were no rules,” Josh retorts. “You’re a sore loser. Always have been since that day we played shirts and skins during training.”
Mason rolls his eyes.
“I am not a sore loser.”
I hear the screeching of a microphone from the other side of the bar.
“Uh oh,” Josh says. “Merrim
an found the karaoke machine.”
“Two more shots, please!” I say to the bartender. “And then keep them coming.” I’m a nervous wreck over the announcement of karaoke. There is no way Blake is going to let me get out of here without singing at least one song.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Blake announces. People cheer. “I want you to know that on this very snowy evening, we have a legend in our presence.”
“Indeed I am!” Josh yells from over my shoulder. A titter of laughter goes through the crowd.
“Not you, asshole,” Blake retorts. “We have a singer to end all karaoke singers here.”
I knock back one tequila shot and then the next, shaking my head to clear the burning.
“You know her as Ms. Boss Lady. But I knew her once upon a time as Camille S. Camille, where are you?”
Everyone turns around to stare at me.
I wave meekly.
“Right here,” I say drunkenly.
“Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the woman of the hour, Camille Mariah Carey Sanders!”
People are wolf-whistling and I see Janet across the room sipping a beer. She grins at me.
I stumble onto the stage and take one of the mics.
“I’m going to kill you,” I whisper to Blake.
“I know,” he replies.
The music starts and Somebody That I Used to Know blasts over the speakers. Blake takes the man part and I kill the second verse that Kimbra usually sings. Everyone is on their feet cheering me on.
The room is starting to spin a little from the alcohol, but I’m mostly buzzed off the positive vibes of the room. The attention is heartening and emboldens me.
“Thank you, thank you,” I say at the end of the song. “And a special thanks to my singing partner here for dragging me up onstage.” More applause. “I just want to say that tomorrow, y’all are going to kick some serious Minnesota ass.” The cheers and stomping are so loud the bar starts to shake. “And then we will totally make it home before this snowstorm catches us here!” More whoops and hollers follow.
Blake helps me down off the stage and I trip on the way, falling into his strong arms. I stare into his green eyes.
“You’re pretty,” I say to him with a smile. I don’t even care who’s watching us; I know that no one can hear us over the music and the chatter.
“You’re drunk,” Blake says. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
“Ooh, that sounds nice,” I slur at him.
But he looks annoyed.
I hold his arm on the way out to the elevators.
“Did I do something?” I say to him.
He smiles at me.
“No. I’m taking you to where you need to be tonight.”
I lean up on my tiptoes and smolder at him.
“I need to be with you tonight.”
The elevator dings and the doors slide open. He peels me off him and steps into the elevator, pushing the button for my floor.
“You don’t want me?” I ask, feeling hurt.
Blake looks at me with his deep green eyes and I nearly fall over. He’s so hot.
"If I'm going to sleep with you, you're going to be dead sober," he says. "And I am going to sleep with you. I'm going to fuck you so hard you're going to be screaming my name at the top of your lungs, Camille."
He leaves me at my hotel room door with a wet ache between my legs. I know he’s right. We have to wait.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
BLAKE
I wake up in the middle of the night to an ice-cold room and knocking at my door.
"Hang on," I yell blearily at whoever it is. My head is pounding from the beginnings of what I know is going to be a raging hangover. Camille was drunk earlier but so was I. Not as drunk as she was, but I’ve kept my alcohol to a minimum since joining the League. It doesn’t take much to give me a headache.
I pull on my boxers and stumble to the door, opening it quickly.
"Mr. Merriman, the hotel has lost power from the storm. Please accept this extra firewood to hold you over. Someone from the power company is going to be coming around."
"Thanks," I say. "When is the power going to be back on, you think?"
The hotel clerk is young and clearly green to all of this.
"Sir, I'm not sure."
I take the bundle of wrapped firewood from him.
"Thanks, don't worry about the details."
I shut the door and walk over to the cold fireplace when I have a sudden idea of how I can get warm tonight.
***
Knock knock knock. I rap on the door.
I hear the padding of Camille's footsteps from the other side of the door.
She pauses, clearly looking through the peep hole.
She rips the door open. She's bleary-eyed like me.
"Wood delivery," I say with a grin. I've put on jeans, a flannel shirt, and my warmest sweater. I’ve even shoved a hat on top of my head.
"What?" she asks.
Her room is warmer than mine; clearly because she's at the top of the hotel.
“The power’s out and I thought you might need some extra wood.” I grin at the double meaning.
Camille holds the door open, one hand on top of her head.
“I’m hungover already.”
I push past her, being sure to actually touch her as I pass. She shivers, and I know it’s not from the growing cold.
“I figure a Texas girl wouldn’t know how to build a fire,” I explain, setting the wood down on the hearth.
Camille shuts the door and turns on a lamp.
“You live like a slob,” I say, glancing around the room.
“Gee, thanks,” Camille retorts. She pulls on a bathrobe over her short pajama dress.
“Leave it off,” I say as I pile the wood in the hearth.
“Nice try,” Camille replies. “It’s too cold.”
“I know something we could do to change that.”
Camille smiles at me.
“Just build the fire, caveman Joe.”
I pound on my chest jokingly. I grab the matchbook on top of the mantle and strike the stick against the rough paper. It lights and I toss it beneath the logs. The flames catch the logs on fire immediately, and soon there’s a roaring blaze warming the room.
“That seemed easy. I could have done that my-“
I lean over to Camille and kiss her on the mouth. Her thick lips are wet and warm against mine. She groans and pushes me away.
“This is inappropriate,” she says. “For us to sleep together. If anyone found out-“
“Then how about we don’t sleep together,” I say. “Let’s play a game. It’s called mouths only.”
Camille kisses me again.
“I don’t see how that could hurt.”
“Take off your clothes,” I demand.
She opens her robe and it falls off her shoulders onto the floor. The flames are hot next to us, but they are nothing compared to the heat between us.
She lifts up her pajama dress, a hot little nightie that clings to her hard nipples. She shivers.
“Come closer,” I whisper to her. She does. I put my hands behind my back and lean forward to her tits, full and pale in the light of the fire. I lick around her nipples and she shudders.
I kiss both her breasts: the tops, the sides, and underneath while she moans next to me.
“Lie down,” I say to her. She does. “Lift your legs over my shoulders,” I instruct.
She’s good at following my orders.
I take my mouth to her mound, licking her creases and all the delicate places that make her moan. I lick up her sweet juices as she bucks against me, wanting every inch of my tongue pressing into all the right spots.
She finally comes against my mouth, panting heavily.
When she comes back from oblivion, she smiles at me.
“Now it’s your turn to take off your clothes.”
I’m even better at following instructions than she is. I’m naked in under
twenty seconds flat.
The side of my body that isn’t facing the fire is being nipped by the icy cold. I ignore it.
“Stand up,” Camille says, her red mouth still smiling. She’s shaking too, I think from the orgasm and not the temperature. “I’ll warm you right up.”
She crawls on her hands and knees over to me before crouching only on her knees. She keeps her hands behind her back.
“God, I wish you would touch me,” I breathe.
She sticks her tongue out and licks my bare shaft. I shudder at her warm touch.
She circles my cock with her lips, barely kissing the end. I can’t take it.
“Take me in your mouth,” I groan.
She follows the instruction and I nearly collapse to the floor. I wish I could steady myself with my hands on her shoulders, but rules are rules. No hands.
Mouths only.
She sucks and pulls and licks me until I can’t take anymore. She pulls away as I come all over her chest.
I jerk my head towards the bathroom.
“Shower time,” I say.
She follows me into the cold space. I run the taps until hot water pours out.
“Must be a propane water heater,” she says.
I pull open the curtain.
“After you.”
Camille steps inside, the water blasting her perfect body.
I light candles that are meant for the bath tub, and soon the room has an orange, steamy glow.
“This feels amazing,” Camille says. “Especially with my headache.”
I step behind her and kiss the back of her neck.
“Can we use hands now?” she moans. “Please?”
“You’re the one who wanted to make new rules,” I say.
“My neck is killing me,” she says.
I pull her hair to the side and drape it over to her chest. I massage my hands into her soft skin, and she groans.
“That feels amazing.”
“There’s more where that came from,” I say a minute later. “I’ll give you a full body massage on the bed. I say we do this hands only next.”
Camille laughs.
“You don’t stop, do you?”
“I know what I want, if that’s what you mean. And I always intend to get it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CAMILLE
We head back to the bedroom which is warmer than before but still chilly. Blake tells me to lay on my stomach. He covers the top half of my body with one of the cashmere blankets.
DIRTY PLAYER: A Secret Baby Sports Romance Page 9
