by Nana Malone
He knew it was a flimsy excuse, and the gesture he caught Samuels making at Johnson made him scowl. Safely in his room, he closed and locked the door behind him, leaned against it, and tried not to think of Asha. Or what Aaron was trying to do with Asha.
Fifteen
Asha closed the door to her room and locked it, being sure to draw the bolt as well. She listened for Aaron's steps to disappear down the hall before letting out the breath she'd been holding. She slipped off her heels and moaned as she sunk her feet into the plush carpet. Pulling out her loose and comfortable pajamas, she repeatedly told herself, It could have been worse—Phil could have joined us.
Once she was ready for bed, her mind drifted to her favorite off limits subject. Dax. He'd been watching her. A lot. She could feel the heat of his gaze on her. Every time she moved. Every time she breathed. And it made her weak. Too breathy, too…needy.
She wasn't an idiot, and she realized his teammates were starting to notice. Her coworkers were starting to notice. Except Aaron. He somehow got it in his head that she would be interested in him. She wasn't interested in anyone. Dax didn't count. He wasn't a possibility.
She had to talk to him about it before the gossip got out of hand. The last thing they needed was for someone like Aaron to get wind of the idea and use it against her. He was just that slimy.
The interviews Dax had done after the day's game had gone really well, but her bosses were still skeptical about her angle for handling his presentation to the media and the fans. There were too many things they had to gain by firing her at the first excuse that presented itself.
She had to tell Dax to cool it, even if it meant they had to limit their professional interactions to the phone. The more they hung out, the more she wanted to hang with him. Pathetic. She knew it. She was officially a groupie; a proho,just without the ‘ho’ part. The way the team was improving, some of the tighter restrictions might be loosened after their next home game. She had a feeling that would be the deciding factor.
She crawled onto the bed and leaned back into the pillows as she dialed Dax's cell. It rang twice before he answered, breathing heavily.
"Perfect fucking timing," he growled.
"Sorry, I thought you preferred to hit the exercise room in the morning," she apologized.
"I do," he groaned. And something dark and needy pulled low in her body.
"Then why do you sound so out of breath?" Her skin heated when her mind offered several helpful scenarios for his condition. All of them had to do with him being…naked.
His breathing was ragged. "Asha. Don't ask me that… Please."
The pulsing between her legs increased, and she bit her lip. She didn't want to know. But at the same time, she did. "Dax, what are you doing?"
"I'm wondering what would have happened if I'd walked you to your room tonight."
Her breath caught. "Dax…"
His voice had gone low, guttural. "Don't tell me you never touch yourself when you think of…someone."
"N—no—I—"
"Sounds like you're blushing." Of course, she was. He continued. "Anybody I know, Asha?"
"You agreed," she reminded him.
"No. You promised, and we're each in our own rooms, completely alone. This is just talk. That's all. A fantasy," he pointed out. "I can't lay a finger on you. But…if I could…I'd start by sliding my hand up your thigh, and hiking that skirt of yours up and out of the way."
"No, you wouldn't." She couldn't keep the smile out of her voice. "Because I've already changed out of that dress."
His voice dropped an octave. "You're already naked? Excellent. In that case—"
"I'm in pajamas, jackass," she laughed.
"Well, then, I'll just have to take them off you, won't I?" he whispered. "Why is the thought of you in flannel pajamas so hot?"
"And who said anything about flannel?" She smirked.
There was a pause. "You're killing me. I wanted to touch you so bad on the elevator tonight. I swear to God, I wanted to hike up your dress and see if you wanted me as much as I want you. I still want to see how wet you are."
The pulsing was more insistent between her thighs. "And how do you plan to do that when you're on another floor?"
"Nope, not on another floor," he voice was raw. "I'm between your legs. I'm guessing your pajamas are soft on my skin as I ease your legs open, and come up between them to get at the bottom of your shirt. I move that out of the way so I can kiss your stomach. I love the way your voice hitches when I do that."
Asha's free hand drifted to her stomach, running along the hem of her shirt, fingers lightly brushing the bare skin beneath. This was so over the line, but she didn't want to stop. Didn't want him to stop.
"Then what?" she breathed.
"I'd keep pushing it up so I could get at more of you. Your ribs, your tits, your neck. I want to taste you, nibble on you, nuzzle you, suck on you. You know, you taste different in different spots. Saltier in that crevice beneath each breast, more like mint along your neck and collarbone where you spray your perfume. Right behind your ear…fuck you're so sweet."
Asha swallowed hard. He remembered all that? Of course, having his voice in her ear as he talked, she could almost smell his cologne and how it had tickled her nose when he'd kissed her throat. She caressed her breast with her free hand, vaguely aware of Dax describing how he would lick and suck at her nipples until they hardened against his tongue. She remembered that all too well—the damp and rough feel of his tongue on her sensitive skin.
"Fuck, Asha. Every time you groan like that, it takes me back to that night, the way you arched your back for me. I could do nothing but kiss your tits all night."
"Dax," she said on a breath. She needed to stop this, stop him, but she couldn't get the words past her throat.
"God, as much as I love your tits, there's something else I've been wanting to do. I'd kiss you just at the navel as I work your bottoms and panties down over your hips. Sliding them down your legs. God, do I love your legs."
"Dax we—"
He didn't listen. Just kept talking. "I want to taste you. I want to lick you until you scream my name. I want to know what you taste like everywhere."
Her core pulsed, even as she eased her hand into her pajama bottoms.
There was a hypnotic quality to the way he spoke, and her legs fell open as her back arched. The prickly heat of anticipation and longing made her moan. But Dax wasn't physically there to satiate it, only stoke the fire inside her.
She slid her fingers over her slick folds, pretending it was him.
"Are you wet for me, Asha?"
Oh, God, she was so wet. "Y-yes."
"Good. I want you so much. I love thinking about what would have happened if I didn't stop. Would you have let me suck on your clit?"
The velvety, smooth skin was so slick. She stroked herself slowly, sending a shiver of pleasure through her body. She withdrew her hand and shed her bottoms, scooting down on the bed to give herself better access.
She returned to gently teasing her lips and spreading them gently.
"Do you taste good, princess? Do you like it when I tease you with my tongue?"
"Yes, oh, my God."
She wanted Dax. Wanted the weight of him. The long, hard, smoothness of his body. She wanted to know what that felt like for once. Really know. She wanted to know what would have happened if he hadn't stopped them.
She slid a finger inside herself, but knew it wouldn't be enough. She needed…more. "Dax, please. I want—" Her body stretched to accommodate a second finger, and she gasped at the sensation.
Sure, she'd touched herself before. A lot, actually, since meeting Dax. But she'd never gone this far.
He groaned, followed by a sharp intake of breath.
"God," she gasped as she tried to reach for that elusive release. Why couldn't she get there? Because this isn't enough. "I want your— You feel so… Here. I want you inside me."
"Not as bad…as I want it to…be me insi
de you. I want…your legs…wrapped around me… Your heels…digging into my ass…holding me in."
Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh… Her release crashed into her, her whole body shuddering as she cried out his name.
On the other end, Dax ground out several curses, his breathing harsh over the phone. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, Asha. Holy shit."
They sat in silence for several minutes, both of them knowing there was no going back from what had just happened. She'd officially broken rule number two… On the phone. Sort of. Whatever. It was bad, because after this there was no way she wouldn't remember his words in her ear.
As her pulse returned to normal and she heard Dax swallowing in an effort to control his breathing, she wished she could roll onto her side and feel the warmth of him envelop her. Like the night he'd held her.
Instead, she felt chilly and thought about the image she presented—legs splayed on the bed, damp with sweat, but ultimately alone. Just like always. For what? She'd followed the rules all her life, trying to be perfect. For once she didn't want to be. She felt a wave of shame threatening to wash over her.
"I miss holding you," Dax admitted. "I liked it."
"Me too," she said quietly in response, closing her legs and curling up with the phone. "But we both know…"
"I know. Still…all you have to do is say so, and I'll head on up there to see you."
The hope in his voice… The temptation tugging at her body… She drew a ragged breath.
When she was finally able to speak again, she whispered, "Goodnight, Dax. I'll see you at breakfast."
"See you then. Sleep well, princess."
Sixteen
Dax was perfectly aware that he looked like a nervous teenaged girl waiting for a date to show up. He'd been pacing the lobby for nearly forty-five minutes. To try and look slick whenever he saw one of his teammates, he pretended to be talking on the phone. Yeah, he needed help.
He picked a position where he could see her either get off the elevator or come down the stairs. He had no idea how this was going to go in the harsh light of day, so he figured it might be good to head her off at the pass. And say what, dumbass?
Last night was hot, and I want to do it again. No. That was going to make him sound like an asshole. Newsflash, you are an asshole.
No. Well, yes, he was, but there was something about her that calmed that burning feeling in his chest. He felt calm when he was with her. And…what the fuck did that even mean?
He wanted to date her? He had no idea how to even do that. He'd never successfully had a relationship. Not to mention all the barriers. Her job. Their team. Her brother. His best friend. His family. It was none of their business, really. But Gramps was a piece of work, and maybe Asha was skittish.
What the hell is wrong with you? You are Dax Coulter. Yeah, but since she'd shown up, he wasn't really getting her out of his head. And he knew this couldn't be a one-time deal. Not that he thought he could get her out of his system with just once. There might not be any getting her out of his system. Not with a girl like Asha. And frankly, he wasn't down with seeing how the other guys watched her.
They thought she was a massive ballbuster. Which was ridiculous. She was smart as fuck. Certainly smarter than he was. That shit didn't intimidate him in the least.
But she wasn't a ballbuster. She just knew what she wanted, and took no prisoners until she got it. He respected that.
It was official. He was a sap. The truth was, he didn't know what he wanted from her. And that was a problem.
Movement caught his eye, and he grinned briefly. He was glad he'd picked his vantage point, because his smart girl thought she could avoid him by taking the stairs. The moment she was out of the stairwell door, he took her by the elbow, and led her down the corridor to the conference rooms he'd staked out.
"Jesus, Dax, you scared me half to death."
Her hair was down today, falling in soft, silken waves down her back. She wore some kind of white wrap dress that clung to her body loosely, but moved with her. And again, heels that made his mouth water. Fuck, the dress wasn't in any way sexy. It was professional. But damned if he didn't want to tug it down to see if her nipples tasted as good as he fucking remembered.
"I'm sorry, but I figured you’d want to have this conversation where no one could see or hear us." He tugged her into a conference room and closed the door behind them.
When he faced her, her pupils dilated and her lips parted slightly. Like she was waiting for a kiss. And fuck, did he want to give her one.
"Dax what are we doing in here?"
He took a deliberate step toward her, and she backed away while licking her lips.
Just one taste. Maybe he'd be able to go a day or two with just a taste. He'd feel better. Less…edgy. "We're talking."
"A-about what?"
"Well, for starters, I want to know if you're okay." Where the fuck had this sensitive side come from? This shit was fucking with his mojo. He was losing his swag. "You know. I needed to see…after what we…" Shit. He cleared his throat. "I didn't want you to think that…"
Her cheeks went a deep scarlet, and damned if he didn't want to kiss every inch of her.
"I, uh…fine…perfect… It was…"
"Awesome?"
She exhaled sharply, and her lips twitched with a flash of a smile. "Yes, b—"
Another step toward her. "Good. Because I've been rethinking the other night. I can't get you out of my fucking head, and I think given last night, fighting it is a bad move."
Her eyes went wide. "Dax, you—"
"Hear me out." He insinuated himself between her thighs, forcing the jersey material up higher." I want to taste you. Will you let me taste you, Asha?"
He ran his nose up the column of her throat, and her head rolled back. Why did she smell so damned good?
He placed a kiss at the hollow of her throat, and she shivered. Her little moan made him rock hard. One little sound, and he was ready to go. That was all it took.
But then, she was pushing at his shoulders. "Dax, wait."
Wait, what? He pulled back to look at her properly. Her lips were still parted and soft. Her eyes still dilated and hooded. Her gorgeous breasts rose and fell rapidly as she dragged in a breath. She wanted him. So what was wrong? "Did I do something?"
She shook her head vehemently. "No. God, no." But she still pushed at his shoulders. Fuck. He'd done something. He backed off and gave her space, tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "If I'm crowding you, you just have to tell me. I don't want to pressure you…" He frowned. Had he ever been with someone inexperienced before? He had no idea how to make sure she was okay with all of this.
Asha blinked wide, dark eyes up at him. "No. It's not you. Or rather, it's not what you're doing. Obviously, I…uh…we…" She licked her lips and swallowed hard. "This is chemistry. And uh…yeah. But I think you were right the other day."
"What? No. I'm pretty sure I was a dumbass, torturing us both for no good reason."
She straightened and smoothed out the imaginary wrinkles in her dress. "Dax, I like you. I mean more than just…" She pointed a finger back and forth, gesturing between them. "I know I'm not your type."
He frowned. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Sorry. I'm awkward. I don't know how to do this."
He forced himself to drag in a deep breath. "It's fine. Say what you need to say."
"Like we talked about. This is…uh…intense. And I think it's confined quarters, and I'm not really the kind of girl you're used to, so, I'm a challenge, and it's probably better if we can stay on good terms. You know, friends."
He was a walking, talking, jumble of hormones, and she wanted to be his…friend.
"You're saying you don't feel this?"
"Oh, I feel it. I just think you were right from the start. We can't do this. This is a chemical thing. And it'll pass." She cleared her throat. "I feel things with you. And it makes me reckless, and it terrifies me. You'll get bored and move on."<
br />
The hell he would. "And that thing last night? In the elevator, on the phone?"
She flushed again. "I think, maybe…we maybe limit our physical interactions? And I'm way out of control with you. I mean, I've never done anything like…"
He could feel his lips tip into a brief smirk as she spoke. She felt the same thing he did. Except her solution was to run, and his was to face it like a game of chicken with oncoming traffic. It was okay. He could wait. Because by now, he got it. She was working her way under his skin. "So what, you want to pretend it didn't happen? That hasn't worked for us, exactly."
Asha ducked her head, that dark hair of hers acting like a veil. "No. I'm just trying to manage this the best way I know how. I like you. And once we get over our, initial…differences… Let's just say, I can see why Damon thinks of you like family. You just don't want anyone else seeing that." Dax shifted on his feet. She saw too damn much. "I'd like to keep working with you. I'd like to be friends. But, if I can feel it when you watch me, I know someone is going to notice. So, for both of our sakes, we need to chill."
He nodded slowly. They could do it her way, for now. She'd come around eventually. Because he knew something that she didn't. They were under each other's skin. And it wouldn't be going away. No matter how much she wanted it to.
The next week, Dax kept to his hotel room in the days leading up to the game in New York. Practice, massage, room. Only talking to Asha on the phone. And even then, she was back to business. Like she hadn't given him the hottest orgasm of his life without even being in the room. For the millionth time, he pushed that particular memory away, knowing it would be back before he knew it, and thought about football, instead.
The Thrashers won again that Sunday, and by far more than just a field goal.
Dax's numbers were better than the week before as well, but he took a hard hit in the last minutes of the game, and the team's trainers insisted he be thoroughly checked out before heading back to the hotel.
