A Matchless Romance

by Christi Barth

  “Bravo. Well done.”

  A tight yellow suit barely contained the sultry-looking brunette who approached. “About time someone put Tolliver the Twit in his place.” She shook Drew’s hand. “Ashley Messina. You must be the man of the hour. Gotta say, Tabitha, your taste’s improved.”

  Christ. Tabitha. Drew pivoted back around. “Are you okay?” She still hadn’t moved from the doorway. He ran his hands up and down her arms, not knowing how to comfort her, but knowing he had to do something.

  Eyes closed, she sucked in a slow, deep breath. “I’m fine. I told you, I’m used to it.” When her eyes opened, they shimmered with unshed tears. As green and glistening as the pond hidden deep in Central Park where Drew’s trolls liked to hang out. “What I’m not used to is a white knight riding to my rescue. Wholly unnecessary, but wholly appreciated. Thank you.”

  Drew didn’t want to be thanked. Not for just doing the right thing. Especially since he didn’t see it bagging him any extra kisses, what with the audience they’d accumulated. “You did buy me sliders and dogs. Consider us even.” Although if she did offer gratitude kisses, he wouldn’t turn them down.

  Arms extended, Milo bounded forward. He waved two large Thermoses. “I brought cocktails. Cosmos for the girls and Rob Roys for us men.” Setting down the Thermoses, he beat his chest like Tarzan.

  “Sounds sexist, but delicious. Thanks for going to the trouble, Milo,” said Tabitha. She walked them all into the private room. The women immediately bustled into action, grabbing plastic glasses, plates, and stripping off jackets.

  “What’s a Rob Roy?” It sounded to Drew like a kid’s drink. Or a burger chain.

  “Scotch, vermouth and bitters. It’ll put hair on your chest.” Milo tucked a finger in the neck of Drew’s shirt and tugged it down. Waggled his eyebrows. “Correction. More hair on your chest.”

  Wow. The guy was both outrageous and handsy. Kinda funny that Drew was more worried about Milo taking a shot than the four beautiful women lined up by the food table. He could either get all pissy and macho, or laugh it off. And Milo did make him laugh. “Just because you brought me a drink doesn’t mean I’ll put out.” Drew grabbed for a Thermos. Didn’t care which one. Just knew he’d need a stiff drink to survive the night.

  “Funny guy. Tabitha, you didn’t tell us he was funny. Only that he was smoking hot.” Even in stacked heels, the woman with Asian features who marched up to him only came to Drew’s sternum. “I’m Tara Parks. Recruited to make you over.” She gave him a long, slow once-over. The kind that if he did it to a woman it would net Drew a fast slap across the face. “But I don’t see anything that needs improvement, once we get rid of that abomination of a shirt you’re wearing.”

  A leggy blonde nodded. “The shirt explains why you brought us here tonight. But the man,” she licked her lips. Bent her knees and smoothed a hand down the front of her pink tank to the waist of her yoga pants. “The man is yummily perfect. Oh, and I’m Kate.”

  He almost spilled the drink he was pouring. Beautiful women accosting him from every angle. Drew was used to assuming that he didn’t stand a chance with women who looked like that. But he’d bet his biggest hard drive and his limited edition, mint-in-box Star Trek phaser that these women were flirting with him.

  Despite the evidence, Drew had trouble believing it. Almost as much as he had trouble believing Tabitha had told her friends he was hot. And what the hell was wrong with his shirt? It was one of his quirkiest tees. He’d had three people offer to buy it right off his back at the last Otakon.

  God, if he was stark naked, this wouldn’t be any more uncomfortable. Drew didn’t know what to say. History led him to believe he probably shouldn’t say the first thing that leapt to mind. Not that anything had. The overload of focused, feminine attention had corked him up tighter than a wine bottle. What was Tabitha thinking? Why put him into such an awkward situation? All the sliders and Scotch in the world wouldn’t make him relax. And yet the last thing Drew wanted to do was accidentally insult Tabitha’s friends. Or bore them. Or basically screw up in any way.

  Tabitha shoved a loaded plate at him. “You look as freaked out as a deer staring into the barrel of a rifle. Sit. Eat. Do a couple slugs of whatever concoction Milo brought. Then we’ll get started.”

  His stomach flipped. “I’m not hungry.” It was too much. Eating would split his concentration from trying not to say the wrong thing. Or say anything.

  Again, she pushed the plate’s edge into his stomach. “Immersion therapy’s tough at first. But I guarantee you’ll walk out of here a changed man. Plus a whole new wardrobe.”

  That she’d taken a scientific approach intrigued Drew beyond measure. He grabbed the plate and looked at the room full of women from a different angle. “Immersion therapy? You mean like putting someone with arachnaphobia into a tub filled with spiders?”

  “Exactly. Because I figured out your problem. When you’re running, or running your team ragged at work, you don’t see women as anything but equals. They don’t intimidate you. You’re not worried about doing something wrong, or being rejected by them. You’re not thinking about them as women.”

  “True.”

  “And when you pissed off Fran and Keiko, you were thinking too much about Quest, about how both of them held all the power over your game in their hands. When you’re in the moment and not over thinking, you’re fine. That’s the key.” Tabitha twisted back to accept a drink from Milo. “Just accept that for the next few hours, you are the center of our universe. This is a safe place. And you can do no wrong.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” he said glumly. One thing was certain. When he’d hired Tabitha, he really had no idea what he was in for. Before he could taste his cocktail, the barrage began.

  “I hear you’ve got amedal,” purred the sex-kitten blonde.

  “Two, actually. One gold, one silver.” As always, admitting to the silver put a bad taste in his mouth. And reminded him what happened when he split focus. Especially where women were involved. So he set down his drink. Widened his stance. Braced for the worst. Then mentally slapped himself. Tabitha’s point was that he had to let go. Not think about what could go wrong. So he slid his hands into his back pockets and smiled at the circle of women.

  As if Kate had passed an invisible microphone, Ashley circled closer and asked, “How’d you get into running?”

  Drew relaxed a micrometer. This one was easy. Thanks to his coach, who’d rehearsed the answer with the whole teamon the flight across the Atlantic to prep for the barrage of media the moment they touched down in London.

  “My dad’s in construction, but plays a bunch of sports around the neighborhood. Mom’s a tennis coach. They both spend every minute possible outside, and couldn’t understand a son who spent all his time on the computer.”

  “I know the feeling. My parents didn’t understand my teenage addiction to fashion magazines,” said Milo.

  Drew bet that wasn’t the only thing Milo’s parents didn’t get about their son. “Basically, my parents bribed me. They wanted me to do Little League. And Cub Scouts. And Pop Warner football. Not my thing. I wanted to go to summer science camp. So they agreed to send me, as long as I picked one sport to try.” He shrugged in preparation for the punch line. The media types at post-event interviews had lapped it up when he timed it right. “When you’re the class geek, it doesn’t hurt to be able to run fast.”

  Sure enough, everyone laughed. Except for Tabitha. She just cocked her head and gave him another one of those unfathomable looks. What he wouldn’t give to figure out what thoughts raced underneath red hair she’d tweaked into curls for tonight. Curls that made him itch to run his fingers through. Suddenly hunger streaked through him. And not just for the sliders.

  Drew sat down. Grabbed a handful of chips. It wasn’t so hard, this not-thinking gambit. He’d play along. Let them dress him up and confound him with questions. It was all fair game—as long as it meant he’d get Tabitha alone at the end of the nig
ht.

  * * *

  “I’m almost tempted not to take your money for this job,” Tabitha said as she smoothed the plastic over the suit they’d talked him into buying. Once he stepped out in the well-cut, black pinstripes and everyone’s jaw dropped to the ground in drooling admiration, Drew had come around to the idea of a suit rather quickly. She considered it the apex of the entire night. When he wore it for his New York interviews, women would simply melt. God knows she had.

  “You’re not. Game Domain’s paying now, remember?” His voice floated through the slats of the dressing room.

  Thank goodness. It hadn’t been at all comfortable lusting after him while he signed the metaphorical and actual checks. Not that she’d been able to stop. “The point is it feels so good to be oh-so-right. I almost feel guilty about getting paid on top of it.”

  “Right about what?”

  “My take on immersion therapy. It worked. It worked and then some.” After a few obviously panicked moments at the beginning, something had changed. Drew stopped thinking so hard. Talked to her friends as easily as he talked to her. Teased Milo like a little brother. And yes, made one or two questionable jokes, but overall, he seemed far more comfortable. Comfortable enough to flirt back as Kate threw herself at him. Which only bothered Tabitha a little. Riiiiiight.

  “Where’s my T-shirt?” asked Drew.

  Tabitha looked down at the bulging bag at her feet. “Tara packed it away. She said she didn’t want you retreating into your comfort zone like a turtle pulling back into its shell.” Feet sore, she sat on the overstuffed, overly swooshy tan divan and pulled off her boots. Wriggled all of her toes with a sigh.

  “So I’m supposed to walk down the Magnificent Mile half-naked?”

  That thought pulled another, longer sigh out of Tabitha. If only. She could probably sell tickets to that event. Pictured his medals nestled in the dark strip of hair down his sternum and practically fell over. “Of course not. Tara left a shirt in there for you. The blue polo.”

  “That makes me look like a freaking golfer,” he grumbled.

  Uh oh. He’d started thinking too much again. Well, not on her watch. After embarrassing the heck out of him, the constant barrage of compliments seemed to have cheered Drew as the night wore on. Tabitha had no problem distracting him with another.

  “If more golfers looked like you, the sport would have cheerleaders and mascots.” Tabitha stretched out full length and bit back a yawn. The constant effort of trying not to be jealous of her friends flirting with her handsome client had worn her out. “Seriously, Drew, this was a great night. A huge success. Go on, tell me I’m brilliant.”

  He padded across the beige carpet in bare feet. Amazing how intimately naked a man could look in a polo shirt, jeans and bare feet. Drew knelt by the side of the divan. Took her hand in his and dropped a soft kiss dead center between her wrist and the oval opal ring on her middle finger.

  “I’d rather tell you that you’re beautiful. Every time I look at you, it’s like a sucker punch straight to my dick. But I’ll also admit that your mind’s as stacked as your body. So yeah, you’re brilliant.”

  Tabitha gaped. She knew it because she felt the air cut across her tongue as she dragged in a surprised breath. Sure, they’d kissed. And she’d gotten no sleep for two nights replaying the kiss. Trying to figure out what it meant and what to do next. But she hadn’t expected Drew to so boldly move things forward. Not the man who believed so strongly—and so wrongly—that he was invisible to women. Unless….he didn’t mean it. Unless the straight-A student wanted to be sure he took home a gold star for the night. She tossed her hair back and sat up a little straighter.

  “That’s quite a compliment. But much like earlier, wholly unnecessary. I saw how well you loosened up. How well you interacted with Ashley and Tara and Kate. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

  “Don’t I?” He rubbed a finger lightly across her palm. That barest of touches sent erotic lightning bolts through her body. “I think I do. First, I had to prove that I could handle your friends. Now, I’d like to prove how well I can handle you.”

  Part of Tabitha wanted to strip off her clothes right then and there. Offer herself up to him on a silver platter. But the other part of her still couldn’t quite believe the transformation. Didn’t trust the validity of this new, alpha version of Drew. Even though it was the man she’d seen inside him all along.

  “I thought you were only this sure of yourself on a track or behind a computer,” she tried to joke. Instead, it came out squeaky and breathy. Because he was still doing that stroking thing on her hand and it made Tabitha want to simply writhe.

  “That’s all you’ve seen. Doesn’t mean that’s all there is. I’m sure of myself, most comfortable doing things I’m good at. And let me assure you, Tabitha, I excel at sex.”

  His oddly blunt delivery might turn off other women. But for Tabitha, his cocky honesty was one heck of a turn-on. Just like every single little thing she discovered about Drew. “Prove it,” she said recklessly.

  Next thing she knew, Drew was draped half on top of her. One hand cradled her scalp. The other pulled at her back, lifting her off the round cushion and into his body. And his mouth—well, it took hers. No sweet, gentle exploration. His tongue ravaged hers, delving into every nook and cranny with long, sweeping licks that brought every inch of her body to a state of need and want within moments.

  Tabitha moaned. She wanted to lift her arms in the air and scream in joy at Drew’s deft, skillful and slaking kisses. Instead, she grabbed the hem of the polo shirt Tara had so carefully chosen and roughly pushed it out of the way. Because she needed skin. Needed to touch him. Feel the heat of him searing her fingers as though he was feverish. Revel in knowing that she’d created that fire in him.

  With a muttered oath, Drew ripped the shirt over his head. And immediately dove back down to bury his lips at her neck. Sucking, licking, nipping with just enough teeth to send shivers cascading through Tabitha. It was almost enough to distract her from her quest to feel him. To run her hands up and down over the obvious muscles all over his amazing athlete’s body. To feel his back—his lats, maybe?—ripple with each motion. She’d never felt anything sexier.

  “I need more of you,” he growled. “I need to see you.” Drew raised himself up enough to pluck at her sweater. It didn’t take him long to discover the whole thing was held in place with two thin bows. In fact, when he did discover it, his eyebrows shot to his scalp.

  Then, with a wicked grin full of promise, he bent his head. Grabbed one end of the bow with his teeth and slowly, excruciatingly slowly, tugged. The whole time he kept those blue eyes locked on her. Eyes that passion had darkened from denim to darkest midnight. Eyes in which Tabitha would happily drown. When he repeated the move on the second bow, he used one finger to trace a lazy path from the notch of her collarbone down to her now uncovered navel. Tabitha’s mouth went dry. Other, lower parts of her anatomy went wet.

  Drew pushed aside the edges of her sweater with a low hum of approval. She felt his gaze rake over her as strongly as if he’d used his hands. God, why wouldn’t he use his hands? Why did he just stare in silence when she wanted him so much?

  “Lose your place?”

  “You take my breath away, Tabitha.” Reverence replaced the urgency in his touch as he traced along the scalloped edge of her lacy grey bra. “I can’t say it enough—or in enough ways. You’re so beautiful.”

  “So don’t say anything. Show me.”

  Drew paused, his palm hovering directly over her tight, aching nipple. “What about Ashley?”

  Tabitha looked over her shoulder at the closed door to the men’s department. “She’s on a Skype appointment showing the fall line to an ex-pat client in China. It’ll be at least an hour before she comes back. The store’s closed for the night.” Knowing it was akin to pushing the ignition button on a rocket, she continued. “It’s just you and me.”

  “That’s all I need.” Drew st
ood, shucked his jeans in a blink, then pulled her jeans off before Tabitha could blink again. It was as if he’d read her mind. She didn’t want to go slow. Couldn’t. He whipped out his wallet. Retrieved a white foil packet that gave her a double take.

  She grabbed it out of his hand. “Are those the five interlocking rings from a certain international games printed on a condom wrapper?”

  “Yep. They handed these out by the handful at the Athletes’ Village. I’ve got enough to last a year.” Drew grinned. “Or maybe just enough to last through a really, really amazing month with you.” He flicked open her bra and covered her nipple with his warm, wet mouth.

  On a gasp, Tabitha arched her back. And clamped her fingers around his upper arms. “You strike me as a project-oriented, goal-based guy. Aim high.”

  “Oh, I know right where I’m aiming.” With unerring precision, his left hand found her center through her sopping-wet panties. Circled a light, teasing line up. Down. Then his thumb landed with the delicacy of a butterfly on the knot of nerves at the top that had her dropping her leg to the floor to grant him better access.

  He lifted his mouth. Shot her another wicked grin. “Like that, do you? Then you’ll love this.” As he settled his mouth on her other breast with just the right amount of suction, Drew nudged past the seam to insert one long, thick finger deep inside her. Curved it just enough to touch a spot entirely new to Tabitha. One that did make her let out a strangled scream of equal parts lust and frustration.

  “Drew, please. I can’t take much more.”

  “I think you’re wrong. I think you can take whatever I give you.” But he reared back to shuck his boxer briefs and slide her panties down her legs.

  Tabitha ripped open the condom. “Here, let me.” She guided it over the length of his erection. Hard. Did she mention long? ’Cause she certainly did a double take when looking at it. The handsome man had muscles for days, and now, a perfect penis? Well, not yet. It wouldn’t be perfect until it was inside her. Fueling the fire he’d already built to impossible heights.