by Jill Shalvis
pulsing hot water over them.
Before she could regroup, he cupped a breast, letting his thumb rub over her nipple as he slid a powerful thigh between hers, pressing in just enough to graze her heated, pulsing flesh, wrenching a moan from her.
“Rainey, look at me.”
Her eyes flew open and she blinked away the water. “I like that,” she heard herself murmur. Way to hold back… She leaned out of the shower and fumbled into her top vanity drawer for the sole condom she had there. A sample from somewhere. God bless samples.
His smile nearly made her come again. “Goal oriented,” he said. “I like that.” Dipping his dark, wet head, he pressed openmouthed kisses over her shoulder, nipping softly.
She slid her fingers into his hair and brought his head up, touching her tongue to his bottom lip, feeling the groan that rumbled from his chest to hers. Good. He was as gone as she was. It was her last thought as he took control of the kiss, cupping the back of her head in his big palm as his lower body ground into hers, sending shock waves of desire flooding through her.
She gasped when he pulled away, murmuring a protest at the loss of the contact, and then gasped again when he swiped everything off the wide tub edge at the opposite end from the shower head. Her shampoo, conditioner and face wash hit the shower floor, then before she could blink he sat and pulled her on his lap. His long, inky black lashes were stuck together with little droplets of water, his eyes lit with a staggering hunger as he spread her thighs over his, opening her to him. The very tip of him sank into her, stretching her, making her gasp.
He went still, his face strained, his entire body tense as he struggled to give her time to adjust. It took only a heartbeat for her to need more, and she rocked her hips against him to let him know.
“Slow down,” he rasped, voice rough. “I don’t want to hurt you—”
“More.”
With a low groan, he gave her another couple of inches and it was good, so good she sank all the way on him until he filled her up. The sensation was so incredible she cried out, but at the sound he went utterly still.
“Rainey, I’m sorry—”
“No, I like!”
He choked out a laugh at that, but she couldn’t put a sentence together. She couldn’t think past the deep quivering inside her that was spreading to every corner of her being. Instead, she rocked her hips again, mindless, trying to show him with her body how very okay she was.
Evidently he got the message because he began to move with her in slow, delicious thrusts, his big hands on her hips, controlling her movements.
He broke away from her mouth and locked his gaze with hers. His face was close, so close she saw something flicker in his eyes, something so intense it stole her breath. She couldn’t name the emotion, she only knew it matched what was going on inside her, and it was something new. “Mark, I need—”
“I know.”
And he gave it to her, slow and sure, his thumb gliding over the spot where they joined, teasing, stroking… He drove her to the very brink, then held her suspended there, mindless, beyond desperate for her release before he finally allowed it. She came hard, which he clearly liked because he immediately followed her over, her name on his lips.
A long moment passed, or maybe a year, before he stirred against her, brushing his mouth across hers. “Next time, we do that in your bed,” he murmured, still deep inside her.
Her body agreed with a shiver that made him drop his head to her shoulder and groan. They remained there, entwined, until the hot water suddenly gave way to cold, leaving Rainey gasping in shock and Mark laughing his ass off.
STILL GRINNING, MARK flicked off the water and eyed Rainey, who sat on the closed commode, chest still rising and falling as she tried to get her breath back.
He wasn’t having much luck either. It was crazy. He ran five miles a day and could keep up with his world-class athletes just about any day of the week, and yet being with her had knocked his socks off.
And rocked his axis.
Grabbing a towel, he wrapped her in it, smiling when she just stared up at him. He liked the soft sated stupor in her eyes.
She shook her head. “I’m turning into a sex addict.” She rose to her feet and gingerly put weight on her ankle. “At least now we know.”
“Know what?”
“That there’s some crazy chemical thing going on here. It happens, I guess.”
Yeah, it did happen. It happened a lot. But that wasn’t all that what was happening here, and he was smart enough to know it. So was she. “Rainey—”
She turned towards him and kissed him, hard. Deep. And deliciously hot and wet. But when he groaned and reached for her, she shoved free. “Sorry. My fault. You’ve got to put clothes on.” Pushing her wet hair from her face, she limped into her bedroom. With an impressive but frustrating talent, she managed to pull on clothes while keeping herself fully covered with the towel. “If I could stop kissing you, this wouldn’t happen,” she said. “When we kiss, I lose my inhibitions.”
“Yeah?” he asked, intrigued. “All of them?”
“No, not all of them. But most.”
A dare if he’d ever heard one. “Which ones don’t you lose?”
She snatched her purse off the dresser, the tips of her ears bright red. “You know what? We are not discussing this.”
“Can’t be up-against-the-door sex,” he said, enjoying teasing her. “Or shower sex. We’ve done both of those. Maybe you don’t like to do it from behind. Or I know, you have an aversion to dirty talk. Are there dirty talk parameters we should discuss?”
“You made me dirty talk while we were having sex,” she reminded him.
“You didn’t use any dirty words. Maybe you have some words that are okay, some that aren’t. For instance, my penis. Would you want me to call it a dick, or a cock? Or how about your sweet spot? There are lots of names for that, like p—”
“Seriously?” She planted her hands on her hips. “Out of all of our issues, this is the one you want to discuss?”
“It’s a good one.”
She shook her head. “I’m leaving.”
“This is your place.”
“Right. God, you drive me nuts.” She looked at her clock. “But I actually have to go to work.” She moved out of the bedroom to the front door.
In nothing but the towel around his hips, he followed her. “Rainey.”
“What?”
He maneuvered her to the door and kissed her. “Bye.”
With a moan, she yanked him back and kissed him, running her hands over him as if she couldn’t get enough before suddenly shoving him away. “Dammit, I said to put some clothes on!” She stormed out the front door, only to come to a skidding halt on her porch. “Crap!”
Her car wasn’t there.
She sighed and turned back to him. “I need a ride to work.”
When he smiled, she slapped her hands over her eyes. “Oh my God.”
“What?”
“I’m adding smiling to the list. No smiling!”
“Why?” Pulling her back inside, he trapped her against the door. “Do my smiles make you lose your inhibitions too? All of them?”
“Maybe.”
“Okay, now you’re just teasing me.” He flicked his tongue over her earlobe and absorbed her soft moan.
“Argh!” Yanking free, she stormed back to the bedroom to grab his wet clothes, which she tossed into her dryer and turned it on. “You have to drive me to work. And you have to do it without making me want you. Got it?”
“I’ll try. But I’m pretty irresistible when I put my mind to it.”
9
MARK SPENT THE next three days wielding a hammer alongside his players at the construction sites during the day, practicing with the teen girls in the late afternoons, and handling Mammoth business at night. He also had dinner with his dad, who’d gotten wind of Mark’s interest in Rainey. Thanks, Rick. Ramon had told Mark that Rainey was a perfect fit for him, but they both kn
ew what he really meant was she’d keep you with one foot in Santa Rey, where you belong.
Mark had his usual hundred balls in the air at all times, but in spite of doing the opposite of what his dad wanted, he couldn’t stop thinking about Rainey.
He’d tried calling and had gotten her voice mail—twice—and a new and entirely foreign feeling had come over him.
She was avoiding him.
Four days after the ballet, he walked into the rec center and ran smack into her. She looked up from her clipboard, an apology on her lips, which tightened at the sight of him. “You.”
Yeah. She’d been avoiding him. She was wearing cargo shorts that emphasized the toned, tanned legs he’d loved having wrapped around him, a UCSB T-shirt and her favorite accessory—her whistle. And suddenly he wanted to see her wearing that whistle in his bed.
Just the whistle.
“You’re early for practice,” she said.
“Yeah, a little bit. Thought I could help out somehow.” Or see you…
“Great.” She slapped her clipboard to his chest. “Can you figure out which supplies we need to order?”
“What?”
“Check the list against the stock in the storage closet,” she directed, and pointed to the same supply closet where only a week ago he’d kissed the both of them senseless. But before he could remind her of that, she was gone.
“Nice technique,” Rick said as he came down the hallway. “Is that how you landed that Victoria’s Secret model you dated last month?”
“Shut up.” Mark looked down at the clipboard. “She wants me to be the supply boy.”
“Huh. Probably she doesn’t realize how important you are.”
Mark sighed. “You’re an ass.”
“Are you sure that’s me?”
Mark ignored this and opened the door to the closet, eyeing the shelf he’d pinned Rainey against. Clearly, he was losing his mind. It was obvious she didn’t need him or even particularly like him. She didn’t take his calls. She didn’t seek him out.
And she wasn’t just playing with him either, or being coy. That’s not how she operated. What you saw was what you got with Rainey. She was the real deal.
And she didn’t want him.
He wasn’t sure how the shoe had gotten on the other foot, but it had and he needed to accept it and move on. Except…he couldn’t seem to do that, which made no sense. He’d never been more on top of his world. His career was solid, his bank account was solid.
Maybe this vague unease was just from being back in Santa Rey, back with his father and brother, the two people in his life who didn’t buy into his press. Yeah, that had to be it, being with family, with people who knew bullshit when they saw it and called him on it with no qualms. Here there was no snapping his fingers and getting his every need taken care of. Here no one looked at him to solve their every problem and deferred to him as if he were their god.
Here, he was the supply boy.
He supposed his dad was right about one thing—Santa Rey was home, since he hadn’t bothered to get attached to anyplace else he’d been.
He thought briefly of his past girlfriends, or more accurately, lovers. He’d been with some incredibly beautiful women and yet he’d never gotten too attached for the sole reason that he hadn’t wanted the additional responsibility.
It was possible he’d made a mistake there, that in trying to protect himself, he’d made it so he couldn’t engage.
No, that wasn’t it. He’d engaged with Rainey just fine. He’d engaged everything he had—body and heart and soul.
And maybe that was it. All this time he’d been just fine on his own with the occasional woman for fun and diversion and stress release. But Rainey was shockingly different.
Why her? What was it about her that had so lowered his defenses? Because she was a nightmare waiting to happen to his life. She wasn’t arm candy—not that she wasn’t beautiful, because she was. She simply wasn’t the type of woman to be content with the few crumbs he’d be able to give her, a mere side dish to the craziness of his life.
In fact, she had her own crazy life.
And what if she got attached? What then?
Except.
Except…she sure as hell didn’t appear to be too attached.
He blew out another sigh and spent the next ten minutes comparing the list of needed supplies to what was on the shelves. There was no comparison, really. The center was short of everything, and he grabbed his phone. If he was doing this, then he was doing it right. He snapped a picture of the list and emailed it to the one person who could help him, then followed with a phone call.
Tony Ramirez answered with, “Yo, what can I get you?”
Tony was the Mammoths’ supply manager. He stocked everything the players and staff needed, specifically the locker room, medical room and kitchen. It was a big job, and not an easy one. During the season, the team’s needs varied on a day-to-day basis, from Ace bandages to the latest Xbox game to a turkey club sandwich on sourdough from the deli down the street, to a new Mammoths jersey on a moment’s notice…which meant that Tony was pretty much a world-class concierge service.
“Need some supplies,” Mark said. “I’m in Santa Rey.”
“Good for you, I’m in Cabo.”
“Shit,” Mark said. “Never mind.”
“No, I’ve got my laptop. I can work my magic from anywhere, no worries. What do you need? Is it for Operation: Make The Mammoths Look Good Again, or for that chick that James and Casey tell me you’re trying to impress?”
Mark pictured himself happily strangling his players.
“They make ’em pretty there in Santa Rey, huh?”
They did. They also made them feisty and sharp as hell, not to mention loyal and caring, and warm. So goddamn warm that Mark could still feel Rainey wrapped around him, the gentle heat of her breath on his throat as she pressed her face there, moaning his name. He could still feel the way she’d moved against him, driving him crazy. The way she’d shattered in his arms, clutching at him as if he was everything.
And then in the next moment she’d decided it didn’t mean anything. Which he was fine with. Fucking fine. “The rec center here is in desperate need of some supplies. I just sent you the list.”
“Didn’t I just send you a bunch of baseball and softball equipment?”
“Yeah. This list is more for the rec center itself. Office supplies. But also, the kids I’m coaching are short on stuff I didn’t anticipate. Running shoes, cleats, and…girlie stuff.”
“Girlie stuff?”
“Sports bras.”
“Sports bras. Are you shitting me?”
“You order jockstraps and compression shorts all the time.”
“Yes,” Tony said. “Because I know how to fit a dick into a cup. I have no knowledge of breasts—well, other than personal knowledge.” He laughed to himself. “Where the hell am I supposed to get sports bras?”
“Hell, I don’t know. The bra store? You said you were magic.”
“Aw, man, you’re going to owe me. The next blonde reality star that throws herself at you, you have to give to me. Make that the next two blondes.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Mark said. “Also get water bottles, enough for each kid and staff member because there’s never enough water on the fields. Use the aluminum Mammoth ones if you want. And I want an iPad for stats, and—”
“An iPad?”
Turning, Mark came face to face with Rainey, who was standing in the doorway.
