Playing for Hearts

by Debra Kayn

  Her world tilted. She gasped and landed on the bed, staring at Bruce. She blinked, suspended in time, unable to understand how crazy wild it was that she was flat on her back, naked in front of her best friend. Bruce settled between her legs, and the weight of him atop her body felt better than winning any race.

  “I’m going to sink myself inside of you,” he whispered.

  She nodded; a quiver rolled across her front at his promise and her nipples peaked. “I want that.”

  The corner of his mouth tightened, and she formed her hand against his jaw. Thrumming his cheek, she knew she had everything right here with her. Her best friend was going to be her lover.

  “Condom?”

  She stilled. “A condom?”

  “Yeah, sweetheart. I need to protect you,” he said.

  Shit. She turned her head and scanned the room. Where was the last place she had sex? Had she ever bought condoms? Why couldn’t she think?

  “Uh.” She wrinkled her nose. “That might be a problem.”

  Bruce kissed her neck, bringing her back to facing him, and said, “Stay here.”

  She opened her mouth to ask him where she’d go with him on top of her, and his body left her. She stared at his back as he left the room. The second he was out of sight, she sat up and hugged her pillow.

  How embarrassing. Who knew what Bruce was thinking. He’d come from Janelle’s apartment, and no doubt that bitch was a talented, skilled, and a professional lover. She’d have condoms. God, they were probably monogramed with her initials on them.

  Crista hung her head and closed her eyes. All she did was babble. Next shopping trip, she’d buy all the condoms and keep them next to the bed. Maybe even buy a crystal bowl and display them all as if they were pieces of candy she frequently partook in. She groaned and opened her eyes. If Bruce gave her a second chance, which he probably wouldn’t, seeing as how she couldn’t compare to Janelle, he’d never catch her unprepared again.

  “Hey,” Bruce said, approaching the bed. “You okay?”

  She frowned. “Truthfully?”

  He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled her over beside him, wrapping his arm around her. “We’ve always been tight with each other. Nothing about that has changed.”

  “Okay.” She laid her head on his chest, so he couldn’t look at her face. “You just came back from screwing Janelle, and that’s freaking me out a bit. I don’t have any condoms because unlike you, I’m not a whore. I mean, I’ve slept with guys but it’s not something I do in my own house, and you know my track record, I don’t do boyfriends because of training. I feel stupid—”

  “Shut up,” he whispered. “First off, I didn’t sleep with Janelle.”

  She lifted her head off Bruce and studied him. “You didn’t?”

  He shook his head. “I went outside to the parking garage to call Dominic and I didn’t want you overhearing my conversation.”

  “Why?” She sat up straighter.

  “Because I heard every word you said earlier when you thought I was sleeping.” He inhaled sharply. “I wanted to tell someone.”

  She slapped his chest. “Did not!”

  “Yeah.” He brought her back around to his lap. “I’ve been thinking a lot.”

  Oh, God. He’d changed his mind. She pinched the base of her neck. “About?”

  “Sex. With you.” He hooked her neck and pulled her back. “Every thirty seconds like clockwork.”

  “But Janelle … ”

  “There’s no Janelle. There never was, and never will be,” he said. “There’s just you. Right here in bed, nice and warm. My best friend, who I want to fuck.”

  “Vulgar,” she whispered, panting hard.

  He grinned. “I’ll show you vulgar … and dirty … and—”

  “Shut up and do it.” She kissed him hard.

  After she’d thoroughly kissed him, he stood up and undressed. She sat on the edge of the bed, enjoying the moment, filled with the wonderful feeling that he wanted her, that what they were doing was the right direction for them to go.

  He dropped his shirt on her floor. She swallowed past the lump of emotions pressing down on her. He was gorgeous.

  Broad, tanned shoulders filled her vision. His chest flexed, and the muscles tightened. She inhaled swiftly as lust, pure and simple female appreciation, coursed through her body. His roughened hands went to his belt. She leaned forward, her nails digging into the comforter on her bed. Eager to see him completely for the first time.

  Bruce pushed his jeans off his hips and had them lying on the floor without pausing. She stared, enthralled at his hard cock. She had no idea why knowing Bruce went commando under his jeans impressed her, but it was hot.

  He opened his hand. She smiled at the sight of the foil-packaged condom, and held out her arm to take the protection. She slid off the bed and kneeled in front of him. While tearing open the wrapper, she leaned forward and kissed his bare hip, and then the other, purposely avoiding the one part of him she wanted to touch.

  Bruce’s fingers tangled in her hair and pulled her head back. She gazed up into his face.

  “You on your knees in front of me will make this a short night, sweetheart,” he said.

  She rolled on the condom, taking her time. The heat coming off him excited her. Unable to deny herself, she slowly wrapped her fingers around his hardness. His pelvis thrust forward and he elicited a soft groan. She loved the way he responded, and she grew confident that it was her that he was enjoying.

  He slipped his hands under her arms and picked her up, backing her to the bed until her legs hit the mattress, and she sprawled on the top. He put his knee to the mattress. “My turn.”

  He settled between her legs, his mouth on her sex. Her legs tensed, and then went to liquid. Unable to move, breathe, or think, she felt.

  She felt everything.

  Every lick, suck, nibble controlled her body. Powerless and prized, she gave herself to him. Her neck arched. She squirmed underneath him, but his hands on her hips settled her down. Warmth spread throughout her limbs. She reached down between her legs and threaded her fingers through Bruce’s hair, needing that connection, that proof that this was really happening.

  Bruce growled against her. The vibration from the noise sent her hips off the bed. He palmed her ass, not letting her get away. Caught in his hold, she orgasmed hard, fast, and mind-blowingly wonderful.

  To her surprise, Bruce continued to caress her with his tongue, letting her enjoy the after jolts continuing to ping her body in the most delightful way. She inhaled deeply and sighed. She smiled because even to her own ears, that was a soft, delicate moan. She’d never once mewed with a man.

  But along with bliss came guilt. She closed her eyes and turned her head to the side. Her best friend was between her legs and—

  His weight shifted and the warmth of his mouth trailed up her body, over her stomach, settling on her breast, and then on the other breast. Emotional overload and fear consumed her. What if the next time he looked at her, he’d see her as just another woman in the long line of lovers he’d had?

  A tear rolled through her lashes, over her temple, and into her hair. She couldn’t lose him. Who would she confide in? Who would support her career? She rubbed her eyes and inhaled a shuddering breath. Who’d stay up all night with her, talking about bait and the circumference of a bass’s mouth?

  “Sweetheart,” Bruce said, cupping her face with his hand. “Hey, are you crying?”

  She opened her eyes. Concern and confusion met her gaze. “I’m okay,” she whispered, hating the way her voice broke.

  He was used to confident women who went from one orgasm to the next without messing their makeup or breaking a sweat. She lay underneath him, damp from the ride he’d taken her on, and an emotional basket case.

  “Liar,” he whispered. “Talk to me.”

  “We’re best friends,” she said, hoping that explained everything.

  Bruce’s mouth softened and his gaze never left h
ers. He stayed silent for a few seconds, watching her intently, and then he said, “It’s more than sex. It’s only you I need to be inside of to feel like I belong. No one—” he held her face tighter “—I mean, no one, makes my heart come alive like you do, whether I’m right here between your legs wanting to have sex with you or hearing your voice on the phone because we’re in different parts of the world. It’s you and me. That’s never going to change.”

  “Seriously?” She held on to his arms, holding him against her.

  “Yeah.” Bruce glanced down between their bodies. “Promise you.”

  She ran over his confession in her mind, so she’d never forget. “Do you think we could, uh, since you haven’t and I did, maybe you’d like to—”

  “Finish?” He stilled above her and the hard length of his cock throbbed against the inside of her thigh. “You can’t stop me, sweetheart.”

  He lowered his head and nuzzled her neck as he slid into her wetness. She trembled at the invasion, the pressure, the size of him. “Oh, boy … ” she whispered into his hair.

  His pelvis pressed into her and her whole body sang. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on to him to keep from careening into another orgasm.

  She’d had no idea sex could be this way. She was used to one time and she was done. It was over; there was no going on. Her pussy pulsed, squeezing Bruce’s cock, as if proving her wrong. There was more pleasure to come, and she wasn’t one to argue with Bruce when she was feeling this good, this happy, this excited.

  Bruce pushed up on his hands, hovering atop her, staring down into her face. She stroked his jaw, loving the way he was holding on for her.

  His shoulder muscles bunched, and he thrust inside her. Hooded eyes gazed down at her. She arched her pelvis, locking her ankles behind his thighs. Direct pressure hit her in the exact spot she needed every time he plunged in more deeply. Frantic and needy, she undulated her hips trying to catch every caress, every nudge, every stroke.

  “Oh, God … ” She clasped her hands on his biceps, digging her nails into the hard muscles of his arms.

  Bruce panted, moving faster, harder, more deliberately. “That’s it, sweetheart.”

  She moved and reached. Reached and moved. Her core tightened and straightened, heating and coiling hotter with each stroke, each rub, each touch.

  “Give it to me,” he said, grunting every time he sank balls deep inside of her. “So fucking beautiful.”

  Bam.

  As if he controlled her body, she let go. Every cell fluttered in response. She blinked to keep her eyes open through the overload of pleasure flooding her body from the inside out.

  Bruce grunted, thrusting and holding himself stiff. His arms quivered in her grasp, and through his own pleasure, he never once took his gaze off her. Even then, he kept his attention centered on her, for her, giving her everything.

  Chapter Twelve

  Crista overslept. Bruce remained on his back, his arm around her, and enjoyed the way she’d wound her body around his when she finally gave up the fight and fell asleep. He’d lain wide-awake for the last two hours, selfishly taking the quiet to enjoy a woman’s warm body on him.

  He stared at the ceiling. No, not any woman … Crista.

  Because he’d slept with her, questions plagued him. He needed to call his manager.

  Beyond what he was doing in two weeks, he had no idea how to fit Crista into his life. He sure in the hell wasn’t going to be satisfied with every other month visits and short phone calls while he traveled the world. She had a job and training to do, so it wasn’t like she could fly around with him while he worked.

  Crista sighed in her sleep, stretched her leg, and when she was done, pulled her leg up higher until the inside of her thigh settled on his dick. The warmth and pressure was enough to set him off, and he hardened. Aware of the softness of her breasts snuggled against his ribs, he forced himself to act.

  “Crista,” he said, sliding out from beside her. “Wake up, sweetheart.”

  He gathered his jeans off the floor and slipped them on. Glancing at the Crista in the bed, his cock throbbed in need, but he only had a short time to fix everything so they could both get to the place where they’d have forever together.

  Damn, he’d had no idea how perfect she was with her clothes off. Her breasts, firm and bigger than he’d imagined, overflowed his hands. Her legs—which he’d admired often for their strength and muscle formation, had wrapped around him last night in such a way that he could still feel their imprint on his hips.

  Crista rolled to her side and lifted her head. “Bruce?”

  Against his better judgment, he approached the bed, leaned down, and kissed her. His blood pulsed. He needed more.

  He nudged her mouth open and tasted her tongue. His hand went to the back of her neck, and held her there as he deepened the kiss. Hell with it, he could stay in bed all day and call his manager tonight.

  The mattress cushioned his knee. He leaned over her, guiding her back on the bed. His balls tightened, knowing in a few minutes he’d settle himself between her legs and enjoy her again.

  Crista planted both of her hands on his chest and pushed. He continued his path down, and ended up belly down on the mattress with Crista nowhere in sight. He turned his head and found her standing beside the bed, arms crossed over her breasts, and her eyes as wide as a reflective bass lure.

  “I missed work.” She darted her gaze around the room. “Totally missed my class. It’s over.”

  He pushed himself off the bed and stood. “We were up most of the night. You needed your sleep.”

  A strangling noise came from her and she blinked up at him without saying a word. He straightened his shoulders. She had something to say; he only had to wait for it.

  She found her voice. “You let me sleep in?”

  “Yeah.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw and studied the red marks at the side of Crista’s neck. “Shit. I need to shave.”

  “Are you insane?” She hurried out of the room. “No, don’t answer that. This is whacked.”

  A door slammed and the shower came on. He let his head fall back on his shoulders and gazed at the ceiling. Women.

  He’d never understand how they could go from hot to cold while he stood there alone with a morning hard-on that needed attention. Maybe he was better off not knowing what went through a woman’s head. He walked out to the living room, shucked his jeans, and put on clean clothes. When he finished lacing up his boots, Crista still hadn’t come out of the bathroom.

  He poured two glasses of orange juice and found a few of the granola bars she kept for mornings when she was in a hurry. He sat one down by her glass, and inhaled two of them himself. Not even food was taking his mind off Crista naked in the shower without him. He wandered back into the living room and sat on the couch. For all he knew, she was in there soaping up her body, rubbing the suds around her breasts, down her stomach, and he was missing out on the opportunity.

  He stood and stepped over the coffee table to join her in the bathroom when his cell phone rang. He leaped back over to the couch and swiped the keypad. “Yeah?”

  “Coldwell, your tickets will be at the gate and I’ll have your itinerary in your hotel room along with your bags,” his manager, Dwayne Hagstone, said.

  “What day am I flying out?” He plopped down on the couch.

  “On Thursday. Three days,” Dwayne said.

  “What?” He leaned forward and braced his elbow on his knee. “I have another week off.”

  “Not any longer. Fish and Game contacted the judges last night. The water temperature fell on Lake Konaco. They want the tournament over to restock the lake before they miss their window to replant. We’re having to jump through hoops or we’ll have to reschedule, which will mess up the world tournament.”

  “Fine.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Do me a favor and order another plane ticket and upgrade my room to a suite. I’m bringing someone with me.”

  Dwayne cleared h
is throat. “Bruce … ”

  “Don’t worry, it’s someone special this time,” he said.

  Dwayne laughed. “Don’t bullshit me, Coldwell. Every woman is special for the day. I don’t want your head wrapped around another model and not on fishing.”

  His shoulders tensed. Crista was not just another distraction. “Things have changed since we’ve talked, and I need to change a few things. All future events will have to be planned for two people. I only want the best hotels, the best service, and while I’m competing, you will see after Crista’s safety.”

  “Crista? That chick that hangs out—”

  “Respect, Dwayne. If you want to continue managing my career, then you’ll do what I ask. Her name is Crista; use it,” he said.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Dwayne said.

  “There’s no doubt. I’ll be there, and I’ll take home the win,” he said. “I’ll call you before we board the plane.”

  He disconnected the call. Feeling a whole lot better, he set the phone on the couch and went to join Crista in the shower.

  The bathroom door opened before he could step inside. He ogled Crista, who somehow had showered and dressed in a pair of biking shorts and a sports bra. He smiled because he knew exactly what would happen when he peeled back the spandex of her bra and let those babies free.

  “I can’t believe you let me oversleep.” Crista pushed past him and continued on to the living room.

  He tilted his head to the side and followed the sway of her hips. His fingers itched to cup her ass and haul her over his shoulder.

  “You know how important it is to train, and my clients rely on me. How can I expect them to dedicate their lives to being the best, to remaining in top condition, and exercising every single day if I can’t even manage to show up for our scheduled training sessions?” Crista lifted one leg and slipped on a low-cut sock then repeated the movement with her other leg. “Not to mention, I need to train. Missing one day will set me back a week. I’m old, Bruce. I can’t take time off or everything I worked for will deteriorate into fat and make me weak.”