Playing for Hearts

by Debra Kayn

  He frowned. He had no idea what she was talking about and decided he’d like nothing more than to kiss the back of her knees. He stepped toward her and leaned over, grabbing her around the thighs.

  “What are you doing?” She shrieked when her feet left the floor.

  “Bed.” He pivoted.

  Crista came alive, kicking and tearing at his shirt. “Let me go.”

  He continued walking, enjoying the feel of her body undulating against him. Her ass, on his shoulder, was a tempting sight. He entered the bedroom and dove on the bed with her, crawling up her body and pinning her wrists to the mattress.

  “I need—”

  “To shut up.” He grinned, taking her mouth with his, and kissing her into submission.

  Her movements stopped. Her body softened, and her legs widened, letting him ride the waves of her body as she settled down. He tasted, teased, and set about fully dominating her. It was like reeling in the biggest catch, and she was the trophy.

  He loved her for her big attitude, but he enjoyed the competition of making her his. When he got inside her head and touched her body, she melted and he was hooked.

  He kissed her softly, easing back little by little, until he was inches from her mouth. “Change of plans, sweetheart. You’re flying out with me in three days, so re-arrange your schedule.”

  She stared up at him. Her dilated pupils mirrored his reflection.

  “Then from Washington, we’ll fly to Cottage Grove and get together with the others,” he said.

  Her gaze narrowed. “Washington s—”

  “State.” He trailed his hand down her hip, pulling her leg tighter against him. “You smell good.”

  Her hands came off the mattress and she tugged on his shirt. “I can’t go.”

  “Why not?” He shifted, letting her pull the material off his body. “You can train while we travel. You’ve done it before.”

  Her fingers sprawled on his chest, kneading his muscles. “Clients.” She wiggled underneath him, reaching down for the button of his jeans. “Can’t lose my job or I lose my apartment, too.”

  “Move in with me,” he mumbled against her neck as he slid his hand between her shorts and her stomach.

  “I can’t.” She moaned when his finger skimmed over the nub between her legs.

  She cried out, a rasping whimper in the room. He quickly yanked her shorts off, using his bare foot to kick them off her feet so he could unfasten his own jeans. Crista’s hands continued touching him all over: his chest, his nipples, his stomach.

  By the time his cock came from his jeans, he groaned in pleasure. He stretched over her, reaching for a condom on the nightstand. Crista slid down in bed and a hot, moist suction latched onto him. His toes curled and he stared down at his dick in Crista’s mouth.

  Crista angled her head and gazed up into his eyes, and damned if that wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever seen. His thought process petered out at the stroke of her tongue. It was all he could do to hold himself up on his arms.

  She licked in slow, lazy, strokes, then a deep plunge, sending shockwaves through his body. He fisted the blanket, scared of moving in case she stopped.

  Her lips tightened and her cheeks indented until dimples appeared on both sides. His pulse, already throbbing, sped faster.

  Crista’s eyelids fluttered. Warmth flashed over the surface of his skin, knowing she was turned on by taking him with her mouth. His heartbeat centered along the base of his cock, and he wanted inside of her. He wanted to feel her come. He wanted her hard and fast.

  “Need you.” He growled, hefting his weight to one arm and taking her hand. “On your knees, sweetheart.”

  Crista scrambled out from under him, rolled over coming up on her knees, and held on to the headboard, presenting her backside to him without any questions or hesitation. He settled between her feet, running his hands over her hips, taking in the rounded shape.

  She thrust out her ass, lowering her head, letting her wet hair fall between her arms. He moved in closer, hand on his cock, and entered her pussy slowly. He panted for control, but she all but sucked him in. The sensation almost killed him with pleasure.

  “Honey,” she gasped. “Now.”

  He gripped her hips, ready to give her everything he had. He braced her body for his thrust and then grunted as he slid fully into her wetness. The soft cushion of her ass was his reward. Wet and hot, she rocked back for every forward motion he made, meeting him halfway. Her body trembled under his touch and he held on for all he had, knowing she was going to come hard and fast, and he wanted to be ready.

  Crista’s hair whipped back and lay sprawled along the middle of her back. The arch in her body let him go deeper, and he took full advantage of her position. Keeping a grip on her hip, he used his other hand to grasp her hair and hold her poised in front of him.

  “Yes,” she hissed out.

  His hips spontaneously jerked at the guttural need coming from Crista. He’d had no idea she had it in her to play rough, and he liked the surprise. He lurched and withdrew until the head of his cock almost exited her body then slammed back into her fully. She spasmed around his length and he saw stars. Fucking stars.

  “You like that?” He gave her more, knowing she couldn’t lie.

  Her moans filled the room and their breathing raised the temperature. He tugged her hair, taking the way she lunged back, almost on her heels, slamming into his pelvis. His balls tightened and he quickened his pace.

  “Yes, yes, yes …” Crista’s body stiffened and she convulsed in front of him, squeezing his come out of him. He pitched forward, letting go of her hair, her hip, and landing on top of her with his hands spread wide on the bed. He closed his eyes to clear his vision and inhaled deeply, exhaling on a shudder.

  “Jesus Christ,” he mumbled against her shoulder.

  Crista laughed on a sigh and collapsed flat on the bed. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  He rolled to the side and pulled her into the crook of his body, wrapping his arm around her waist. “What are you talking about?”

  She shrugged. “I pictured you smooth and charming in bed. I never imagined you’d like it rough and fast.”

  “What about you?” He changed the pitch of his voice. “Yes, Yes, Yes,” he mimicked her earlier words.

  She rolled onto her back and looked at him. “You’re asking the girl who’d rather swim the Pacific Ocean than lounge in a pool. I prefer to run twenty-six miles in one event than jog around the block every morning. My bike doesn’t have a basket and a bell on the handlebars, honey. If I’m going to fuck you, I’d rather win the prize after it’s over.”

  He’d found the love of his life.

  He kissed her forehead and pulled her tighter, and even though he was exhausted and not quite ready for round two, nothing curbed his happiness. He chuckled against her hair, holding her to his chest. She laughed, and soon he’d lost control again and joined in the amusement. He couldn’t wait until they were living together.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Three giant ropes, twenty-five feet long with a diameter of three inches, weighing approximating fifty pounds waved in motion across the room. Crista stood in between the ropes and clapped her hands. “Good job, guys. Next.”

  Her next three clients moved forward, picked up the end of the rope, and began the up and down motion to get the ropes undulating against the floor. Crista glanced over at Bruce. God, he was sexy.

  He talked on his phone quietly, not disturbing her class, but she was aware of him. Full of energy, she put her feet together and jumped over the ropes, grinning at Bob Lackey, who was struggling to keep momentum. She enjoyed her classes, and the extra time to work out meant faster progress for her, too.

  “Ten more,” she called out, continuing down the line, jumping as if the gym workout was a playground routine instead of some serious exercise. “Five, four, three, two, and done.”

  The ropes fell to the floor. Bob stumbled back and leaned against the wall.
She walked over and planted her hand on his chest, making him stand up straight.

  “Inhale through your nose, out through your mouth.” She dropped her arm. “Take your pulse.”

  She paced in front of the room. When ten seconds passed, she said, “Record.”

  Bob said, “One hundred-two.”

  “Better. You’ve improved, Bob. By next week, it’ll be down in the double digits. Good job.” Crista gazed at Linda and raised her brows.

  “Ninety-five.” Linda accepted Bob’s high five.

  “Excellent.” Crista moved on down the line, adding four more motivating replies.

  After four months, they were all at different levels, but the core group worked well together. Where one person lacked motivation, the others provided the boost. She handed out towels.

  “Now you’ve got two days off. Follow your set program on your own. Remember, I will be able to tell if you slacked off and so will your records … the heart doesn’t lie. This isn’t about me, it’s about you. The only way you’ll succeed is to keep pushing yourself. It’s much easier to look back and be proud of how far you’ve come than it is to regret the time you lost.” She smiled. “Class dismissed. See you on Monday.”

  She moved away, heading toward Bruce, when Bob stopped her. She touched his arm. “Yes?”

  “I want to thank you.” Bob pulled his T-shirt from his chest and fanned the material. “In nine months, I’ve lost fifty pounds, and while most of the people in our group are training for marathons, I needed to do this for my daughter.”

  Crista tilted her head. “Your daughter?”

  Bob nodded and his smile grew. “I was headed to an early grave, fighting obesity and a long line of ancestors who struggled with Type 2 diabetes. We had our daughter later in life, and I want to watch her grow up, walk her down the aisle, you know … ”

  Crista nodded. “I understand, and you should be proud of yourself. What has got you this far in your journey is determination?”

  “And stubbornness,” Bob added, chuckling.

  “That always helps, too.” Crista laughed.

  “Anyways, I wanted to say thank you and let you know I signed up for a 5k. I know it’s nothing like a marathon and I can walk or run. It’s just a community fundraiser to clean up the beach, but I’m going to finish the race. That’s my goal.”

  “That’s excellent.” Crista hugged him, slapping him on the back before letting go. “There is no race that’s too small. Leave a message on the bulletin board in the office, and I’ll make sure I’m there at the finish line to cheer you on, okay?”

  Bob grinned. “I’d like that a lot.”

  Her client walked off to the locker room. She smiled on the way over to Bruce, and now that they were alone in the gym, she wrapped her arms around his waist and waited for him to finish his phone call.

  “No, the blue tackle box, and make sure there’s extra line in there, too.” He ran his hand down her back, finding her bra strap and sliding his finger underneath. “Both the fifty and forty pound weight nylon ones.”

  She squirmed, tickled from the light touch. It’d been five hours since they’d made love. Touching him intimately, discovering where he liked her hands, her lips, her legs fascinated her. She was discovering another side of Bruce that she hadn’t known, and she liked everything she found.

  “Okay. Talk to you after I land.” He disconnected the call and kissed her upturned lips. “All done?”

  “Yep.” She moved back. “Thanks for understanding that I had to work today.”

  “I get it.” Bruce picked up her duffel bag. “But now I have twenty-four hours with you all to myself, and I’m not sharing you.”

  She rolled her eyes. They’d been over her schedule and she’d given him as much of her time as she could allow. “You have four hours with me and then I’m hitting the beach and going for a six mile run. Care to join me?”

  Bruce stopped walking. “You’re trying to kill me.”

  “Not at all.” She hooked his arm and pulled him out of the gym. “You’ve got stamina.”

  “Damn right,” he muttered, pushing the elevator button with his free hand. “I’m about ready to prove it as soon as we get up to the room.”

  She stepped into the empty elevator. “Oh yeah?”

  The doors slid shut. Bruce dropped the bag and had her plastered against the side of the elevator before she could stop him. Not that she would’ve tried.

  “Mm … ” She nibbled on his lip.

  His hands went to her ass and lifted her up until she was straddling his waist. He supported her weight, and she sank her hands into his hair. Her breath caught, and time stopped.

  The bell dinged, announcing their arrival to her apartment floor. She groaned and kissed him quickly, before wiggling off him. She was insatiable when it came to him.

  “Cruel, honey,” she whispered. “Who’s the one teasing now?”

  “Smart ass.” He swatted her ass. The door slid open, and she pranced in front of him and right into Janelle who stood outside the elevator door. Crista stumbled back. “Oh, God. Sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

  Janelle used her finger and tapped underneath Crista’s chin, forcing her to lift her head. “Head high, shoulders back, and carry yourself with confidence … try to walk with feminine prowess and seduction. Then you won’t have these little mishaps that always seem to happen to you.”

  Fury, hot and all-consuming, raged inside of Crista. She fisted her hand and brought her arm back when Bruce snagged her wrist.

  “Let’s go, sweetheart. Time’s wasting.” Bruce hustled her down the hall and into her apartment.

  She turned on him behind closed doors. “Why did you stop me?”

  “I didn’t want you to hurt your wrist.” He tossed her bag. “Have you ever punched someone before?”

  “No.” She wrinkled her nose. “But I wouldn’t have cared if it hurt me or not. I can’t stand her, and she’s only getting worse since you came to stay with me.”

  “Well, we did play her,” he said. “She might be a piranha, but I’m sure even they have feelings.”

  Crista gawked at him. “Are you defending her?”

  “No.” He reached for her and she slapped his hand away. “I’m just saying it’s best if you stay away from her, sweetheart.”

  She glared. “Fine. Then you go punch her for me.”

  “Right.” He laughed. “I’ve always had a rule that I don’t put my hands on any woman.”

  She snorted, turned around, and over her shoulder said, “Good rule. From now on, that goes for me, too. Hands off, Coldwell.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me,” she yelled from her bedroom.

  She stripped out of her clothes and headed to the shower. Women like Janelle were bitter, conniving bitches. She turned on the hot water. Worst of all, Bruce had to witness her humiliation. Nothing like having the woman he’d desired point out everything Crista was lacking. She was not a supermodel and never would be. Nobody had to shove it in her face.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Bruce scratched his head and gazed down the hall where Crista disappeared in a huff, unsure whether to follow her or give her a few minutes to calm down. Women had mystified him growing up, and they continued to baffle him as an adult. Especially Crista because she’d always seemed to be above the petty sniping women threw at each other.

  She never acted upset when Shauna or Diana teased her. Hell, even Angie and Dana fell right into being friends with Crista as if they’d known each other for years. But something about Janelle rubbed Crista the wrong way. They were too different to have ever been real friends.

  He walked toward the bedroom, paused outside the bathroom when he heard the water running, and continued into the room. He fell onto the top of the bed and rolled to his side, propping his head on his hand. There was only one way to put things back on even ground for Crista.

  Heaving himself off the bed, he stripped off his clothes. Then he made t
he bed, closed the drapes, and tossed a condom on the pillow. He hesitated for a second and threw a second condom on the bed, too. Exercise always made Crista hot, and just seeing and touching her got him hard as a rock.

  The bathroom door clicked open. He turned around and strode to the door, so when she entered the room, he was right there. She glanced down at his cock and reached out to the doorframe to steady herself.

  He flexed his chest and grinned. Oh yeah, he still had it.

  “That’s unfair.” She unknotted the towel between her breasts and let it slip to the floor.

  “All’s fair in love and war, sweetheart.” He scooped her up and carried her to the bed.

  He laid her down unrushed because he wasn’t insensitive. Whatever Crista was upset with Janelle about, he planned to rectify her worries. He slowly turned her to face him.

  “There’s something special about the times when it’s just us.” He linked his hand with hers, and lay face to face. Her leg draped over his, he felt more comfortable than he’d ever been with any other woman. “I like this.”

  “You do?” She placed her head on his arm.

  He kissed her forehead. “Yeah.”

  “Me too.” She sighed. “You’re warm.”

  “You’re chilled.” He untangled his fingers and rubbed his hand down her bare arm. “Soft. So damn soft.”

  “Cocoa butter,” she mumbled.

  That was the scent that he could faintly smell. He inhaled, wanting to absorb the soft, light fragrance. “It’s good.”

  “Better than Janelle’s scent?” She lifted her head.

  He studied her, and only found curiosity. “Y… es.”

  She laid her head down. He was getting nowhere with her. She kept everything bottled inside under a tough exterior. It was almost as if she was jealous of Janelle.

  “Stop thinking about Janelle,” he said.

  She shifted her leg and shrugged. “Kind of hard not to when she’s determined to put me down in front of you every time we run into her, and it sure seems as if that happens a couple times a day.”