by Jill Shalvis
ear. Taking the lobe lightly in his teeth, he tugged.
She clutched at him, the bones in her knees vanishing. “Mark.”
“I have something I want to show you.”
“I know,” she said, feeling his erection press into her belly.
He snorted. “Not that. Come on, let’s go.”
Easier said than done. The parking lot was mobbed by everyone trying to leave the auction.
“Excuse me, Mark Diego!”
They both turned and faced two guys in their early twenties, carrying cameras that flashed brightly in their faces.
Rainey grimaced and covered her eyes.
Mark didn’t so much as flinch, but grabbed Rainey’s hand and kept them moving.
“Sorry about the Stanley Cup, man,” one of them said, keeping pace. “Is this your girlfriend? What’s your name, sweetheart?”
Rainey opened her mouth but Mark spoke up. “No comment,” he said, and walked her toward his truck so fast she could barely keep up, damn her four-inch heels. Mark opened the passenger side door for her, then stood practically on top of her as she attempted to get in. But his truck was high and her little black dress was short. And snug. “Back up,” she said. “I need some room for this.”
“Babe, I’m the only thing blocking the money shot.”
Rainey realized he was right. Without his protection, the photographers could get a picture of her crotch.
“It’s either me or them,” he said. “And somehow I think you’d rather it be me than the entire free world.”
“Fine. But don’t look.”
“I won’t,” he said as she slid in, and he totally looked.
“Hey!”
She caught his quick, bad boy grin before he shut the truck door, locking her inside.
MARK DROVE RAINEY up the highway a few miles, into the burned-out area of the county, nerves eating at his gut. He was more nervous now than he’d been at the finals. When he turned off the paved road and onto what was little more than a field of dirt, he stopped the truck and got out, walking around for Rainey.
She eyed the large trailer in front of them. “What’s this?”
Saying nothing, he unlocked the trailer and led her inside and hit the light switch.
Rainey looked around at the office equipment and architectural plans spread across one of the desks. “Mark?”
“Look out there.” Heart pounding, he pointed to the window as he flicked another switch and the land on the other side of the trailer lit up. “That’s where it’ll go.”
She moved to the window and stood highlighted there in her little black dress and heels, the elegance of her outfit clashing with her hair, which was trailing out of the twist she’d had it in, brushing her shoulders and neck. “Where what will go?” she asked, pressing her nose to the glass.
“The new parks and rec center.”
She turned and looked at him, eyes shocked. “What?”
“Yeah, I bought and donated this land to the rec center. By this same time next year you’ll be in your new office.”
She stared at him for a long beat. “Did you do this so I’d sleep with you again?”
“Is that even a possibility?”
She just stared at him some more, taking a page out of his own play book with a damn good game face.
“No,” she said, her eyes on his mouth. “I’m not going to sleep with you again.”
He went icy cold and couldn’t breathe. “No?”
“No. Sleeping with you is what went wrong. Sleeping with you makes me want more than you can give.”
He let out a breath and nodded. He understood but it felt like he’d just taken a full body hit.
“But,” she said, taking a step closer to him, “the not sleeping part—that works for me.” She was breathing a little hard and her nipples were pebbled against that mouthwatering black dress.
He wanted to strip her out of it and leave her in just the hot heels, but she was throwing more than a little ’tude, and the shoes might be detrimental to his health. Nope, it all had to go, everything, leaving her gloriously naked. Then his gaze locked on the pulse frantically beating at the base of her neck and he knew he wasn’t alone. Reaching out, he cupped her throat, his thumb brushing over the spot. She was flushed, and the low cut of her dress was affording him a view that made his mouth water.
“Does it work for you?” she asked.
“Hell, yes.”
14
THE WORDS WEREN’T out of Mark’s mouth before Rainey pretty much flung herself at him. She couldn’t help it, there wasn’t a woman in all the land who could have helped it.
He caught her. Of course he caught her. He always caught whatever was thrown at him, but he was also protective and warm and caring, and had the biggest heart of anyone she’d ever known. She backed him to the waist-high window she’d just been staring out and kissed him, long and deep, and when his hands came up to hold her, a rough groan vibrating from his chest, she tore her mouth free to kiss his throat while she pushed his jacket off his broad shoulders. He tossed it aside while she worked open the buttons on his shirt. Clearly relishing her touch, he held himself still, his hands tight on her arms, as if it was costing him to give her the reins.
But when she licked his nipple, he appeared to lose his tenuous grip. He whipped her around so that she was against the window now, the wood sill pressing into the small of her back. His eyes were dark, scorching, and as his hands skimmed up her thighs, bringing the material of her dress with them, she shivered, a flash of excitement going through her.
“Hold this,” he commanded, peeling her hands from his shoulders, forcing her to hold her dress bunched at her waist.
“I’m in the window!”
“No one’s here. You’re so beautiful, Rainey.”
Her stomach quivered, and she was glad she’d worn her sexiest black silky thong. “It’s the dress.”
“Mmmm.” His eyes ran up the shimmery material she was holding at her waist, at her panties, and darkened. “Love the dress.”
“And the heels. It’s the heels, too.”
He ran a hand over the delicate ankle strap and hummed another agreement. “Definitely love the heels.”
“And—”
“Rainey.”
“Yeah?”
He smiled that wicked smile again and kissed her, then cupped her face and said against her mouth, “It’s you. It’s all you. I’m going to take you here.”
“Here?”
“Here.” That said, he dropped to his knees and put a big hand on each of her thighs, pushing her legs apart.
“Um, the window—”
He kissed her hipbone.
“I—” God, she couldn’t remember what she’d wanted to say.
He skimmed his fingers up her legs, playing with the tiny strings on her hips.
“Oh,” she breathed, when his mouth brushed from one hip to the other, low on her belly, just above the material of her thong.
“So pretty.” He stroked over the wet silk.
“But this was supposed to be your pleasure—ohmigod,” she gasped when he nipped her skin, catching the silk in his teeth and very slowly tugging. “Mark—”
“Hmm?”
She started to drop the hem of her dress but he covered her hands with his, indicating he wanted her to keep it out of his way.
Then he let his fingers take over the task of pulling the thong down to midthigh, groaning at the sight he’d unveiled for himself. “Trust me, Rainey. This is my pleasure.”
Acutely aware of the glass at her back, she tried to squeeze her legs together but he was on his knees between them. “Someone could come.”
“Yes, and that someone’s going to be you.”
Oh, God. He sent her a wicked smile. His hands, still on her hips, spread wide, allowing his thumbs to meet, glancing over her center.
Her head hit the glass. She was already panting. “But…”
Another slow, purposeful stroke of his
thumb had her moaning.
He was right. She was going to come. Her hands went into his hair. “Mark— We’ve been here too long already. Someone might show up to investigate the lights.”
“Tell you what,” he said silkily, pushing her onto the ledge so that it was more like a narrowed seat. “You keep a watch and let me know if you see anyone.”
“Okay.” Except the back of her head was against the glass. And her eyes were closed.
And…oh. He was gliding his fingers over her while his mouth—
God, his mouth. Beneath his tongue and hands she writhed, unable to stay still.
“I’m going to make you come with my fingers, Rainey. And then I’m going to make you come with my mouth. And then I’m going to bury myself in your body. I won’t be able to stroke you hard and deep though. I’ll barely move, so that if someone drove by, they wouldn’t be able to tell what we’re doing. But you’ll know. I’m going to make love to you until neither of us can remember our names. All while you sit right here and look beautiful and elegant and untouchable to anyone who happens by.”
He slid a finger into her and she nearly jerked off the ledge.
“Hold still, Rainey. We don’t want to have to stop.”
“No.” She tightened her grip on his hair. “Please don’t stop.”
He kissed first one inner thigh and then the other, and she could feel his hot breath against her. She wanted to rock up into him but she managed to stay still.
“Good girl,” he whispered against her, his thumb purposely brushing over her in a steady rhythm now, her rhythm.
Holding still was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Her toes were curling, her belly quivering, and when he increased the pace of his fingers, her eyes crossed behind her closed lids. She didn’t even realize her hips were rocking helplessly until he set a hand on them.
“If you stop,” she said. “I’ll hurt you.”
He laughed softly, then pulled her thong off entirely, gently pushing her thighs open even more. When he added another finger, she bit her lower lip to keep her cry in.
“No, I want to hear you,” he whispered against her skin, and stroked his tongue over ground zero.
She cried out again and sank her fingers into his hair for balance.
“Yeah, like that,” he said huskily. “Do you know what it does to me to hear those sexy sounds?”
She was beside herself, utterly incapable of answering him, lost in the sensations he was sending rocketing through her. “It makes me crazy,” he told her. “Crazy for you.”
Crazy worked.
She felt crazy, too.
“Come for me, Rainey. I want to taste you when you’re coming.”
She pretty much lost it then. First to his fingers, then to his mouth, and then he sank into her silken wet heat. As he’d promised, he barely moved within her, and yet took her to a place she’d never been.
It was the hottest, most erotic experience of her life.
THE NIGHT WAS dark and chilly, but inside his truck on the way back into town, with the heater on low and Rainey next to him, all snuggled into his suit jacket, rumpled and sexy as hell, the oddest feeling came over Mark.
Comfort.
Bliss.
Contentment.
Reaching out, he took her hand and brought it to his mouth, then settled it on his thigh as he glanced at her. She was out cold, breathing deep and slow, dreaming....
Of him?
Her mouth curved slightly, and his did the same. He hoped she was dreaming of him.
His dreams were certainly filled with her often enough. Of course his dreams didn’t necessarily make him smile sweetly the way she did. More like they made him groan and wake up hard as a rock. He hadn’t jacked off so much since middle school.
But it was more than that. He couldn’t believe how much she’d come to mean to him. So damn much…
He pulled up to her place and stroked a strand of hair from her face. She let out a low purr of pleasure and stretched. “How come I always fall asleep in your truck?” she murmured.
“It’s a mystery.” But it wasn’t. Even he knew why. Because no matter how much sexual tension there was between them, there was still an ease, a very natural one.
He walked with her up the path to her town house. At the door, she cupped his face in her hands, and stroked his jaw gently. “I love what you did,” she told him. “Buying that land, getting plans drawn for the rec center. You’re helping so many people, Mark. You’re changing lives.” Her thumb ran over his bottom lip, making it tingle before she leaned in and brushed her mouth over his in a sweet, far too short kiss. “You’ve changed my life, too.”
He started to deny this but she stopped him. “You did,” she said very softly. “You don’t even realize how much. I’ve always let Mr. Wrong work for me because it gave me something to do—fix him. Which was merely a way to avoid the truth that I myself was the real fixer-upper.”
“Rainey, no. You’re perfect.”
“No, I’m not.” She ran her fingers over his lips, gently shushing him. “I’m flawed, and far from perfect. I pick men that aren’t right for me and then try to scare them off.”
“You’re not that scary.”
“Give me some time,” she quipped.
“I still won’t find you scary.”
“That’s because you’ll be gone,” she reminded him. “Back to your whirlwind life.”
“I get to Santa Rey occasionally.”
She smiled but there was something different in her gaze now, something sad. “Good night, Mark.”
“Rainey.” He couldn’t explain his sudden panic, but it was like he’d missed something. “Why do I feel like you really mean goodbye?”
“It used to be,” she said with a terrifying quietness, “that I’d take any scrap bit of affection from you I could get. That was the sixteen-year-old in me, the pathetic, loser sixteen-year-old who didn’t respect or love herself. I realize that it didn’t start out all that different this time either. I mean, I played a good game, but we both know my crush is still in painful existence.” She shook her head. “The bad news is that it’s grown even past that.” Again, she leaned in and brushed her lips to his, clinging for a minute. He could feel her tremor and tried to tighten his grip on her, but she wriggled loose, closing her eyes when he pressed his mouth to her forehead. “Tonight was amazing. I’ll never forget it. Or you.”
“Rainey—”
“I love you, Mark,” she whispered, and then slid out of his embrace and inside, leaving him standing there wondering what the fuck had just happened.
THE NEXT DAY dawned bright and sunny. Perfect game weather. The Santa Barbara rec center teams had arrived by bus. The girls played first. Rainey sat with Lena, watching from the sidelines as Mark coached the teens in a tight game. The stands were filled. The entire town had turned out, it seemed, and a good number of people had come from Santa Barbara too. The mood of the crowd was fun and boisterous.
