One Last Shot (Cupid's Conquests)

by Danielle La Paglia

  His eyes burned with so much more than lust. Her breath caught in her throat at the emotion displayed there. She’d told herself she’d never do this again. She knew it would break her heart to touch him and not get to keep him, but the need inside her stopped the words cold. He was here and he still wanted her after all this time. Tomorrow be damned, she wasn’t letting go of tonight.

  She couldn’t tell what he read in her own eyes, but he turned and headed to the living room. He stumbled his way through the entry, nearly losing his balance as he trailed kisses down her neck to that sensitive spot on her collarbone. She gasped, clutching him tighter as he set her on the arm of the couch and pulled back.

  He jerked his shirt over his head and reached for his pants. She hesitated a second, admiring his muscular chest before pulling her own shirt off. Damn he was sexy, but not the over-chiseled, rock-hard type. His muscles were well defined, but still soft enough to touch. His jeans were on the floor before she was done drooling over his physique. He stepped forward and she lifted her butt. He helped her out of her pants then they were pressed together again, only the thin lace of her panties between them.

  She tasted the beer on his tongue as he ran his fingers up her back and unhooked her bra. He leaned back just long enough to whip it across the room, then his mouth was on her, rolling the hard bud of her nipple across his tongue and catching it between his teeth. Heat swept across her skin, cresting in each twist of her nipple. Moisture gathered between her thighs.

  He lowered her to the couch and paused, his eyes drinking in every inch of her flesh. She bit her lip, worried he might be disappointed with her after all this time. Lord knows he’d seen his fair share of flawless women in L.A. He gave her a wicked grin as he took it all in. It was a look of pure satisfaction at the bounty laid before him. She flushed with relief and a little embarrassment at her doubt as he lowered himself to her.

  He started slower this time. His fingertips brushed her hair away and slid down her face, following the line of her neck. She stretched her head back, drawing out the touch. He kissed her softly, lips tentative as his hand rested on the curve of her hip. Tears pricked her eyes at the tenderness she thought she’d never feel from him again. She sucked in a breath, fighting back the emotion. He misread and his tongue darted into her mouth, hand gripping her hip. She reciprocated by thrusting her hips up and grinding against his stiff cock. Lust was so much easier than love.

  She started to shove her panties down, desperate for the feel of that hard flesh inside her, but he grabbed her hand. “That’s my job.” His voice vibrated against her ear and she clenched her jaw to keep from moaning. He rose above her. A chill rushed across her skin at the loss of his warmth. His cock stood at attention, the tip resting against his abdomen. She reached for it as his hand smoothed over her hip, thumb hooking in the edge of her panties. Gripping his erection, she propped herself up and began to stroke him, teasing the soft tip of his head with her thumb. His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned forward and she lowered her mouth to him, licking a soft circle around the head.

  He shuddered and pulled back. “Me first,” he said, pushing her back to the couch, forcing her to let go. Her protest stuck in her throat when his strong hands gripped her thighs, massaging their way to the center. A gasp stole her breath as he slid his finger between her legs, brushing her clit then diving in again, damn near making her lose the ability to think. Clenching her muscles around his finger, she tried to push back the orgasm mounting inside her. But God it felt so fucking good.

  “Jay.” She meant to tell him to stop, but his lips crushed against hers and her tongue was lost in the warmth of his mouth. He slid his finger out of her and broke their kiss. She gripped his shoulders, not wanting to give up a single inch of their closeness, but before she could find the words, he jerked her panties below her hips and tugged them off one leg. Palms on her knees, he spread her legs wide and dropped his head between them. With soft laps at first, he moved his tongue across her opening then up between her folds. Her fingers slid into his hair again, clutching the sides of his head, pressing him against her.

  The tip of his tongue slid higher to circle her clit before pulling it between his teeth and sucking so hard the sensation hovered in that perfect plane between pain and pleasure. She screamed his name as two fingers plunged deep inside her. His tongue continued to explore while he massaging that special spot from within, not giving her a second to catch her breath. The swells of lust rose higher, arching her back and exploding between her thighs. Sparks shot through her nerves and she could hardly remember where she was as ripples of pleasure rolled out from her center, flooding her senses, until he finally released her. She collapsed, panting against the cushions. He sure as hell hadn’t done that the last time they were together, but damn she felt amazing.

  Justin reached down for his shirt and wiped his face. His eyes sparkled and he gave her that grin that made her want to slap him and kiss him at the same time. The grin that said he’d won and there was nothing she could do about it. And for once she didn’t want to. Except maybe…

  “I want you inside me,” she said. His eyes widened and he let out a near growl. He drove his cock between her legs, pushing until he could go no further, then held it there—a second of pure perfection as they were as close as two people could be. Every moment she’d missed him in the last decade faded to nothing as she soaked in the warmth of his skin.

  Shelby clung to his arms as he braced himself above her. She focused on his soft brown eyes and flashed back to the first time they’d been in this position. His broad shoulders and smooth chest were more filled out now, but the look in his eyes was the same. Anticipation pricked her skin. Nothing was as exciting as that first touch, except maybe reliving it.

  He pumped his hips, slamming against her thighs, his tip thumping against the back wall of her pussy, stoking the flame blazing through her body. His tenderness was gone, replaced by pure need—a need she was determined to fill. She clenched her muscles with each stroke, massaging his length as it slid in and out. He moaned his approval and she grinned, watching him move above her in a constant rhythm as euphoria coiled in her belly. His face tensed, pushing his body harder, faster, until ecstasy surged through her, lighting her nerves on fire. A groan escaped his lips as he gave a final thrust, body stiffening above her, both locked in a moment of pure rapture. The room around them faded and nothing existed but their bare skin, the taste of his tongue on her lips, and the pleasure coursing through her veins.

  Chapter Three

  Sunlight pressed against Shelby’s lids. She yawned and stretched her arms above her head, pulling the sheet away from her bare chest. Realization slapped her in the face. Peeking out one eye, her fears were confirmed. Justin Tanner lay face down on the mattress beside her, his toned back rising gently with each breath. Her body tensed, drawing attention to the throbbing between her legs. The thought of how that ache was earned sent a tingle rippling through her muscles. Dammit, Shelby. Breath held, she inched out of bed and tiptoed to the closet, grabbed the first clothes she could reach and headed downstairs to shower, hoping not to wake him.

  If it weren’t for the meeting she had this morning, she’d shower at the bar. Panic swelled in her gut with each passing minute and she moved as quickly as she could. Every creak of a floorboard sent her heart leaping to her throat. She’d hold her breath and cock an ear toward the second floor, waiting for some sign that Justin was awake, but she didn’t hear so much as a shifting of the bed.

  How could she have let him slide into her bed so easily last night? He wasn’t a one night stand kind of guy. He’d said as much the night before. She’d give anything to make it work again, but too much time had passed, too many secrets kept. There was no way he’d understand what she’d done, which is why she hadn’t confessed last night. She’d wanted to hold onto the illusion of him for just a bit longer, but it had gone too far. And now she’d have to walk away again, or tell him the truth and watch him walk away.
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  Shelby snatched her keys and gripped the front door handle, but her mother’s words stopped her cold.

  Hospitality first.

  Dammit, Mom, now is not the time. She glared at her mother’s ring on her finger then gave in. She marched back to the kitchen and started a fresh pot of coffee. After setting out a mug and sugar, she scribbled a note about creamer and fresh towels on a napkin then ran for the Mustang before her mother whispered anything else. How the ghost of her mother’s memory thought it was okay to jump into bed with a man she hadn’t seen for ten years, but it wasn’t okay to leave without a note was beyond her. Shelby cringed as the engine roared to life then she tore out of the driveway and cranked the stereo before she could put any more thought into it.

  #

  The sharp scent of coffee nudged Justin from his sleep. He rolled onto his back and stretched, wincing at the darts of pain shooting through his shoulder. Eyes closed, he fingered the small scars from the arthroscopic surgery. He’d paid damn good money for the best surgeon in California and a shit load of broken promises.

  After the official press conference announcing the end of his too short stint in the Major Leagues, he’d tried to stick it out in Los Angeles, but without the constant practices, games, and traveling to distract him, the glitter of the golden coast faded all too fast and he bought a one-way ticket home. Sean showed up a few days later with girls on his arms and a list of possible endorsements and speaking engagements, already planning his next commission check.

  Justin shoved the memory aside, pushed himself out of bed, and paused. Head swiveling from side to side as he took in his surroundings. He’d been in so many hotels over the years, he forgot he’d actually slept in a house last night. A smile stretched across his face as it all came back to him—every touch, every thrust, every gasp. Shelby Stephens. Goddamn. He never thought he’d get to be that close to her again. His erection swelled against his thigh and he turned to frown at the empty bed. He held still and listened for the sound of a shower or sink, but the house was silent.

  “Shel?” He glanced around for his clothes before remembering they were strewn across her living room. “Shel, you here?” He grabbed a towel from the bathroom, wrapped it around his waist and jogged down the stairs. His clothes were folded neatly on the bottom step. The smell of coffee wafted down the hall from the kitchen. Trading the towel for his boxers, he walked to the kitchen, calling her name again. There was no answer, but a note stood propped against a blue mug. Disappointment at being walked out on warred with the satisfaction of being left hot coffee and a note signed “Love, Shel.” There were certainly worse ways to wake up.

  He filled the mug and took a seat at the kitchen table. It all looked the same with only a few new additions. The cabinets had been painted and there were blinds on the window instead of the yellow curtains he remembered staring at the night he’d asked her dad if he could take her out for the first time. He ran his hand across the edge of the table until he found the nick in the wood from when he’d teased Shelby one too many times and she’d thrown a metal spoon at him, hitting the table instead. So many moments shared in this house and now there was one more to add to the list. He’d gone to the bar just to see her, telling himself that would be enough, but it hadn’t been. He almost talked himself out of coming to her house a dozen times. He’d even made it all the way to his car once before turning around and planting himself on the steps for a quick chat. That’s all it was supposed to be, but he couldn’t help the satisfied feeling that rose in him as he remember exactly how it had played out.

  Grinning, he reached for the mug and paused. It read “UCLA Dad.” Shelby was an only child, but her dad must have picked up the mug at a thrift store. His brother had told him he’d heard she’d gone somewhere in Colorado. There was no way she’d gone to UCLA. She would have told him. She would have tried to get in touch with him. A pit opened in his gut as he ran his thumb across the raised yellow letters on the cup and he knew he was wrong. But how could she have been right there all those years, just twenty miles from him at USC?

  He walked through the house, looking for any other signs. The living room had family photos on the mantle and shelves full of books ranging from John Grisham to Jane Austen, but there was no graduation photo or diploma displayed—nothing to give away where she’d gone to school. Panic rose in him as each room turned up no clues as to where she’d been the last decade. He thought he was over it, that enough time had passed. He’d told himself she was young and scared and it had nothing to do with him, but if she’d been in the same damn city as him and never tried to reach him, that blew his fragile explanations all to hell.

  He took the stairs two at a time and looked over each shelf in her room, trying to find any kind of paperwork. She didn’t have a desk at home, but there was a box on the top shelf of her closet with “office stuff” written on it. Palms sweating, he pulled it down and dropped it on her bed. Several business magazines were stacked on top with at least a dozen file folders beneath them. He scanned the labels, most meaning nothing to him, until he reached one with “RESUME” written in all caps.

  Guilt rose in him at digging through her personal stuff, but he’d lost her for ten years with no explanation. His desperation to know where she’d been won out against his better judgment. He slid the first page from the file, scanning the document until he reached the education portion: B.A. Business Economics UCLA. He slumped onto the bed, knees weak, heart hammering out of control. His weight shifted the box and it spilled over the edge, files sliding across the wood floor. Ignoring the mess, he held his head in his hands a few moments, his mind circling through explanations that didn’t make sense. A decade’s worth of suppressed emotions swimming to the surface to swallow him whole. He’d buried himself in training and practice and games, fooling himself into believing he was over her, but one mug had shattered it all. And now he wanted answers.

  He grabbed the box to clean up the files and noticed a worn copy of Louis L’Amour’s Sackett’s Land cradled in the bottom. She’d teased him since seventh grade about reading the cowboy adventures and he’d bought her Sackett’s Land as a joke for Christmas one year. Hands trembling, he thumbed through the book, nostalgia swelling, cooling the adrenaline coursing through his veins. The pages halted at a bookmark and he spread the book wide to scan the last passage she’d read, but his eyes stopped as he took in the makeshift placeholder. His throat closed as he stared down at the Dodgers ticket stub from his rookie game. She’d been there all along and he’d never known.

  Chapter Four

  Shelby bounced her knee beneath the desk, trying anything to spend the rush of adrenaline pumping through her system before she exploded on the moron sitting across from her. She spoke slowly, fighting for control of her voice. “I don’t understand why it would be declined. You said the loan package was solid.”

  “Your credit history is spotless, but you don’t meet the job history requirements so the loan has to be signed off by our senior risk analyst.”

  “Which you said shouldn’t be an issue.” It was the only bank that didn’t reject her immediately for being self-employed less than two years.

  “I’m really sorry, Miss Stephens. I thought it would be okay, but he says it doesn’t meet our risk requirements.”

  “The business is free and clear and there’s still some equity in the house. I provided the financials and the current business plan as requested. Business has increased since I’ve taken over, not declined. There’s no reason to believe that will change.”

  “I’m very sorry.” He shifted in his chair. Sweat gathered at his brow.

  Shelby gripped the edge of her chair, willing herself to remain seated. The level stare she gave him drained the color from his face. “I want to talk to your supervisor.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The man nearly ran to the back of the bank. Shelby rubbed her temples, staving off the rising migraine. The full weight of the bills in her office settled heavy on he
r shoulders. If she could just pull herself together and bury her emotions, she could appeal to his business sense and make this deal work. Business was her game, and she was a damn fine player. She just needed a hand to help cross the bridge of debt her father had left behind.

  “Miss Stephens,” the man said.

  Shelby squared her shoulders, looked up, and felt a chasm open beneath her.

  “This is William Tanner,” the young loan officer said. Justin’s dickhead of a brother grinned down at her.

  “You’re the senior analyst?” Her day couldn’t get worse.

  “That’s right.” The smug look on his face tore through Shelby’s veneer of self-control. She dug her nails into her palms, fighting the urge to claw the smirk off his face. He stepped closer and leaned against the desk, looking down on her with a shark-tooth grin. “I understand you had a question about your loan application?”

  “The business plan is solid. The house has some equity and there are assets at the bar. There’s no reason to deny this loan. And besides that, you know me, Billy. You know I’m good for it.”

  “You have an impressive work history…in L.A. But eighteen months as a barmaid in an establishment with a rocky past doesn’t give us the confidence we need to make this loan.” He leaned forward and spoke in a lower voice. “It’s a shame my dad spent so much on an education that you’re throwing away.”

  Shelby was on her feet before she knew it. “I’m a business owner, not a barmaid.”

  Billy stood, his height forcing her to tilt her head back. “Most business women show less cleavage.” He made a point of looking down her v-neck shirt. “Unless you’re offering new services since you took over the bar.”