by J. H. Croix
By this point, I was fascinated. Beck took his duties as a ladies man seriously. He was ever cool and definitely didn’t tease like this. He didn’t need to, what with his black curls, flashing green eyes and body honed from steel. I might only get that crazy zing when Cade was around, but I wasn’t blind.
Maisie whipped her head up just as Cade shouldered through the door. Whatever she meant to say, she bit her lip and stopped, her cheeks flaming and her eyes snapping at Beck. Cade barely glanced their way. “See you tomorrow, Maisie,” he said.
At her nod, Beck spoke. “Meet us later at Wildlands?”
Cade glanced my way as I stood, sending my belly twirling with flutters, before looking back to Beck. “Nope. See you tomorrow,” he replied with a wink as he strode to me, caught my hand in his and kept walking. Beck’s laughter faded behind us as the door swung shut.
On the drive home with Cade’s hand a hot brand resting on my thigh, I asked, “So what’s with Beck teasing Maisie?”
“Ah. Saw that, did ya? Yeah, he’s got a thing for her and doesn’t even know it yet.”
I whipped my eyes off the road to him. “Beck has a thing for Maisie?”
Cade chuckled. “Uh huh.”
I forgot what I was going to say next when he slid his hand between my thighs. “Pull over,” he said, his gravelly voice sending a hot shiver over my skin.
Fireweed blew in the breeze, an undulating wave of fuchsia flanking the highway. The sun was setting behind us, its light glinting in the rear view mirror amidst the streaks of red and gold flung across the sky. Denali stood in the distance, immense and regal. I knew precisely where he meant for me to pull over. A narrow dirt road just ahead that wove through the trees toward a lake hidden in the woods. This stretch of highway in Willow Brook was mostly empty of any homes with the tract of forest part of a dedicated land preservation area. We’d visited almost all of our old haunts in the year since we’d reconciled, yet we hadn’t come down here. This used to be a place we made out, way back when we needed somewhere to go.
With heat sliding through my veins and all of my attention narrowed to Cade, I turned into the road, almost hidden amongst the tall grass and fireweed. Within seconds, we were hidden in the canopy of spruce boughs. I could barely think straight with him choosing now to tease me to madness by unbuttoning my jeans and sliding his hand inside. I managed to yank the car into a tiny parking area beside the lake and spun to kiss him.
In a tangle of limbs and kisses, we managed to get my jeans off and his shoved out of the way. Straddling him, I sank down, savoring the delicious stretch of his cock inside of me. I took him to the hilt and stilled when he said my name.
He trailed the backs of his fingers down my cheek. “I missed you,” he said gruffly.
Emotion welled, and I had to catch my breath before I could speak. “Me too.”
“I have an idea.” His finger traced my lips, and I drew it in my mouth for a beat before he tugged it free, trailing a damp path down my neck and along my collarbone.
“What?” I choked out.
Because really, if I couldn’t move soon, I might explode.
“Let’s get married soon.”
My heart flew skyward. “You mean it?”
“I don’t know why we haven’t yet. I was thinking about it while I was away. I figure if I miss you so damn much, I’d better make it official. I was kinda thinking there was no point in the whole wedding planning, but if you wanted…”
I held his face in my hands and peppered his cheeks and lips with kisses. “No wedding. It’s not my thing. I hate planning and everything that goes with it—it’s just silly. Let’s just go to the courthouse and be done with it. We can have a big party after.”
“Perfect,” he murmured against my lips.
He leaned back for a beat, his eyes saying far more than words ever could. On the heels of a breath, he gripped my hips and lifted me, only to bring me sliding back down roughly.
Two weeks without him with my body at the very end of its restraint, my climax was upon me almost instantly. My head bumped the ceiling of the car. Held fast against him, I barely noticed.
Epilogue
Cade
I sat at the counter in the kitchen, staring out into the field outside. This land I’d once upon a time imagined would be mine with Amelia. That was another time, but the land was ours, the home was ours, she was mine, and I was hers. Her back was to me as she set the timer on the oven. After I couldn’t wait to be inside of her and had to make do with a quickie on a back road, my eyes traveled over the flare of her hips and lush curve of her bottom. Her amber hair was damp from a shower, and her feet were bare. I was bone tired, but happy as hell.
The life of a hotshot firefighter wasn’t glamorous. It was damn hard work and dangerous to boot. I’d become accustomed to it long before I’d moved back to Willow Brook. I hadn’t realized how fucking lonely I’d been in between stints out fighting fires. Coming home to Amelia felt so good and so right, thinking about life without her was bleak. That’s what had gotten me thinking about marrying her finally. It wasn’t that I’d doubted we’d be together, just that I hadn’t thought much about making it official. The relief I’d felt when she didn’t even hesitate was so profound, it reminded me how far we’d come in making our way back to each other.
I slid off the stool and circled the counter to wrap my arms around her. I felt her momentary jump, but she instantly relaxed against me and rested her head back on my shoulder, rolling to catch my eyes. “Yes?”
“Nothing. Just this.” I dipped my head and caught her lips in a kiss.
***
Thank you for reading Burn For Me! I hope you enjoyed Cade & Amelia’s story. Don’t forget to sign up for my newsletter at http://jhcroixauthor.com/subscribe/ to get a free copy of another one of my books!
In the meantime, please enjoy The Play!
xoxo
JH Croix
The Play
Brit Boys Sports Romance
By J.H. Croix
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 J.H. Croix
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13: 9781541159976
ISBN-10: 1541159977
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The Play
I want her.
There’s just one problem.
She’s my doctor, and she says it’s a no-no.
I’ve never been one to play by the rules.
But she’s not falling for me and declares sex is boring.
Olivia is the challenge I have to beat.
With her lush curves and her by-the-book attitude, all I wanna do is show her exactly what she’s missing.
Again and again and again.
I’ll bring her to her knees…in more ways than one.
There’s just one problem.
I didn’t count on her bringing me to my knees.
*This is a steamy, full-length standalone sports romance with a guaranteed happily-ever-after. No cheating & no cliffhangers. Nothing but steamy romance & HEA!
Chapter 1
Liam
“Bloody hell,” I mumbled. I gave my knee a test bend, only to grit my teeth at the bolt of pain.
“Easy mate,” Alex said. “No need to be stupid about it.”
I glanced to Alex and rolled my eyes. Alex Gordon was waiting with me at the sleek, state of the art medical facility in Seattle. I was sitting there with a badly twisted knee waiting for the surgeon who was supposed to work wonders and make me good as new.
“At least
we won,” I said, latching onto something other than the throbbing pain in my knee.
Alex chuckled and leaned his head against the wall behind him. Not for the first time, I was damn grateful he happened to be here with me. A month ago, we were signed to an American team on the heels of a crushing loss in a championship game in England. I’d known Alex since we were best mates in grammar school in a small town outside of London. We grew up playing football together, went to university together and got lucky enough to be signed to the same team back in England. Two months ago when my mum died from a stroke out of nowhere, I lost my focus, and our team lost its shot at the championship game. Before I came out of my stupor, our harebrained management ended our contracts and next thing I knew, my best shot at a good contract was with the Seattle Stars, a team paying big money for talent. Seeing as they signed me along with Alex and two other teammates from England, I went for it.
“It’d be nice if they called football by its proper name here,” I said, my favorite complaint ever since we landed on American soil.
Alex ran a hand through his messy brown hair, giving a roll of his brown eyes. “Not happening, mate. American football is way more popular than soccer here.”
“Bloody stupid to call it something else when everywhere else it’s football,” I mumbled.
He shrugged and moved on. “How’s the knee?”
Alex knew as well as I did there was plenty to worry about with my knee. Many footballers had seen their career stall after a knee injury. A bad injury or a less than stellar recovery could mean reduced speed and reflexes, which could mean the difference between good and amazing. Elite players weren’t good. They had to be amazing. The team’s doctor had ridden with us on the way here, but he’d wandered off to find the surgeon who was supposed to work magic on my knee.
“Eh, hurts. Can’t be too bad though. I walked off the pitch.”
“Field, mate. It’s a field here.”
I elbowed Alex in his side, which was conveniently not the side with my bruised shoulder. A nasty collision with a defender sent me sideways, twisting my knee and jamming my shoulder into the ground. I was impatient and ready to see the doctor. Just as I started to wonder where the hell Dr. Monroe was, the door to the room where I’d been deposited with Alex opened.
I looked up into the most gorgeous pair of green eyes I’d ever seen. A woman walked through the door, and my mind was effectively blown with one look at her. Her eyes were bright behind her glasses. The wild, dark curls of her hair were partially tamed into a knot atop her head, yet a few curls escaped as if in defiance, one winding around the temple of her glasses. The curls dangled around her face, which was heart-shaped, her complexion pale with a few freckles scattered across her nose. Never one to shy away from a good long look, my eyes traveled down, taking in the woman’s basic green hospital scrubs. It was hard to tell what her figure was underneath, although she was curvy enough her breasts were stretched against her top. All I could do was stare at her. For the first time since I’d collided with that defender on the pitch, I wasn’t obsessing about what any of it might mean for my career.
Dr. Monroe stepped into the room behind the woman who’d paused by the door, her hands clasped together in front of her. Those green eyes of hers flicked from me to Alex, but her expression was hard to read. “Liam, this is Dr. Bowen. She’s here to take a look at your knee.” Dr. Monroe turned to the woman as he gestured to me. “This is Liam Reed.”
I started to stand when it occurred to me that might not be the brightest idea. “Nice to meet you Dr. Bowen,” I said with a wink.
I felt Alex’s shoulders shake slightly with laughter beside me. Dr. Bowen adjusted her glasses, which were green to match her eyes and angled up at the corners slightly. “Nice to meet you Liam. Let’s get you into the examining room here,” she said, pointing to a door off the small waiting room.
Alex stood at the same moment Dr. Monroe stepped to my side. I wanted to brush them away, annoyed my knee was in enough pain I’d rather stay right where I was. I gritted my teeth and tolerated Alex’s hand under one elbow while he walked beside me through the door into the examining room. The room wasn’t large by any means. With two footballers and a tall doctor in there with the lovely Dr. Bowen, there was hardly any room to move around the table in the center of the room.
I was accustomed to having people around me constantly when it came to the state of my health and playing. Dr. Bowen, on the other hand, didn’t seem to think a group exam was a great idea. She adjusted her glasses again, tempting me to want to tug on one of her errant curls. “I’d like some privacy please,” she said briskly.
Alex quietly turned and stepped out of the room. He was the tall, dark, quiet type, which was why he was such an amazing goalkeeper—calm and cool at all times. Dr. Monroe, on the other hand, turned his sharp eyes to Dr. Bowen. “Olivia, I’d like to be here for the exam,” he said firmly, as if expecting no argument.
As a flush rose on her cheeks and her eyes narrowed, all I could think about was how perfect her name was for her. Olivia. Lust roared through me, followed promptly by a jolt of pain when I went to lean against the table.
Olivia basically had a stare down with Dr. Monroe. After several beats, she spoke again. “Whether you’d like to be here or not, it’s not how I work. Liam is my patient, and I’d like to meet with him privately first. I understand you’re the team doctor and would like to be involved in planning, but first I’d like to take a good look at his knee, review the MRI results and then we’ll talk.”
I bit back a grin because damn if her bossy side wasn’t fun to see. I sobered immediately, realizing she was trying to do right by me and not just go along with whatever the team doctor, and by extension, management might want. After another brief staring contest, Dr. Monroe nodded and turned to leave. He glanced back at me before he closed the door. “Liam, if you need me, let me know.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I knew Dr. Monroe meant well, but it’s not like Olivia would hurt me. I was quite looking forward to a few private moments with her, although for all the wrong reasons. He closed the door behind him, and I turned to Olivia. I’d stopped even thinking of her in doctor terms and was busy wondering how the hell I could get her out of those scrubs.
She wasn’t even looking at me and was clicking through some screens on a laptop on the counter. After a moment, she turned back. She held a pen in her hand and flipped it back and forth between her fingers. Her gaze coasted over me. I was sweaty and streaked with dirt and didn’t give a damn.
“Well, Olivia,” I said, emphasizing her name. “You wanted to meet with me privately. Here we are.”
Her eyes widened and then narrowed. I could sense her wrestling with her thoughts, and it made me want to tease her even more. I felt let down when she simply shook her head slightly and stepped to my side. “Let’s get you on the table.” She moved efficiently and had me sitting on the table with my leg stretched out before I knew it. Her touch was cool and impersonal.
“I took a look at the MRI results from the scan they did before they brought you here. You tore your meniscus, but I’m guessing that doesn’t surprise you,” she said, her hand resting on my lower calf.
My gut clenched and an awful feeling of dread welled inside, sickening fear chasing fast on its heels. Football was my life. I didn’t play for the fame, but I had it. It came with being one of the best midfielders in England and right up there in the world. A knee injury could spell the end of my career, and I was only twenty-eight. I had plenty more years to play if I stayed healthy. I swallowed against the fear rising inside and met Dr. Bowen’s gaze. She’d suddenly become Dr. Bowen in my mind again. I needed her to be that right now, so I could cling to the hope she could make me good as new. I’d been promised she was one of the best surgeons I’d find, and I prayed that to be true.
“Bloody hell.”
Dr. Bowen’s eyes softened, just the slightest bit. “I bet that’s how this news feels, but it doesn’t h
ave to. You’re young and healthy as a horse. The tear isn’t too bad. I’m confident we can have you back on the field within a few months,” she said with a subtle nod.
“All I care about is playing again. If you can make that happen, I’ll do whatever you say.”
A smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Right then. Are you comfortable going ahead with the surgery? It will be an outpatient procedure. You’ll need to plan for a day here and then we’ll send you home. I have plenty more to review, but let’s cover the big picture first.”
I shrugged. “Of course I’m comfortable. Let’s get this done. The sooner the better.” I didn’t voice aloud the jumble of worries crowding my mind. The underlying fear that I might be facing the end of my career was powerful and hard to ignore, but I couldn’t let myself dwell on it.
“You know you can choose your own doctor,” she said gently.
I stared at her, confused by her point. “Dr. Monroe says you’re the best.”
“He does, does he? Well, either way, it’s up to you. It’s your knee. To be honest, that’s why I wanted to give you a few minutes to yourself. You sports guys are all but owned by the teams, so it’s easy to forget when it’s comes to your medical care, you call the shots.”
Dr. Monroe’s opinion aside, I didn’t want anyone other than Dr. Bowen to operate on my knee. Something about how she stood up to Dr. Monroe cemented my trust in her. She was still Dr. Bowen at the moment. I nodded firmly. “It has to be you.”
Those green eyes held mine and damn if the bloody woman didn’t know how to keep her expression controlled. Whatever she was thinking was hidden behind a bland, somber gaze. She finally nodded. “Right then. Well, let’s go over the particulars.”
