by Crowe, Liz
Sara’s eyes narrowed. She shook off the coach, and stood in front of him, arms crossed, green eyes blazing in a way he recognized from all the times he’d seen her furious for some reason or another. The sum total of their relationship was here, right now, with some woman’s possessive hand on his arm and some guy’s looming, young-man-sexy presence looming next to her.
“What are you doing here? I told you Mo needed…”
“Mo cancelled. Thought I’d surprise you.”
The surreal nature of this conversation wasn’t lost on him. He stuck his hands in his pockets, without shaking off Denise/Danielle’s fingers which were digging into his biceps.
The testosterone level in the small space ramped up, wavering and visible to his eyes. A bolt of raw jealous fury tore through him. Dear God he was a fool to think this would ever work. The universe seemed designed against it, if this stupid scene was any indication. The reality of his gut-deep fury at the sight of her, in some kind of a …a…weird moment with that damn kid proved one thing to him.
She wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to get hurt. She wasn’t the only person who couldn’t trust. And this finally proved to him what his problem was. He wanted nothing more than to make her admit that she wanted him back, that she loved him, that she’d been wrong all these years. But once that happened, what in the hell would he do? Did he even have what it took to sustain a relationship beyond that?
The memories of the deep hole of misery he’d had to clamber out of all those years ago smacked him upside the head, making his face burn hot and his hands curl into fists. It was happening again. His emotional barriers were clashing together, clanging shut. Head suddenly clear, he took a step away from the open elevator doors. “I’ll leave you to your…chat.”
The brightly lit bar darkened, around him. The primal, un-woke, get-your-hands-off-my-woman male in him roared in his ears, urging him to act. The simple act of moving to the left and pressing the other elevator’s down button took more effort that he thought he could manage.
“That’s more like it, baby,” his new friend purred in his ear. He glanced down, shocked to find her still there. “My room’s on the ninth floor.” Without a word, he pushed the number nine, rode down to the ninth floor with her his mind in a kind of white-noise, non-space. When the doors opened, he pulled her arm off him and gave her a gentle push out into the hallway.
“But…” she protested, turning and giving him another arched back, don’t-miss-my-boobs posture.
“Bye,” he said, pressing the close door button before slumping back against the wall without pushing any more buttons. When he realized the thing was headed back up, he groaned, wanting nothing more than fresh air, a shower, or to put his fist through a wall. The doors opened. Sara was standing there, of course, arms crossed, no hot-stuff coach in sight.
“Damn it, Jack, you don’t know what…” He took a breath and looked at her. Everything about her screamed sexy. And that pipsqueak asshole of a washed up athlete had tried to move in on her.
“I can’t talk to you right now. I need air.” He hit the close door and then ground buttons, and took a last look at her before the doors slid shut. Slumping against the railing he tried to calm his clamoring brain and shaking body. He didn’t know what to say to her anyway. He knew what he’d seen wasn’t what he thought. He also knew that his visceral reaction to it was not a great indicator of how well he could handle giving her what she wanted from him—his unwavering love, trust, and his beating heart.
He strode into the downstairs, much more low-key bar, offered the guy a hundred-dollar bill in exchange for a bottle of Jefferson Reserve, and without a glance at anyone, walked out and towards his condo.
Shock and adrenaline kept Sara’s tears at bay when she slammed her finger into the down button, furious at him for assuming anything about her. She’d not even planned to go up to the bar but Denise, one of the moms on the team, had told her via text she was really missing out on a great party. That she needed to get her butt upstairs in the next few minutes or she’d really miss out.
She didn’t really consider any parents on this team her friends, other than Lila but maybe she could use a little small talk over a glass of wine. She’d been unable to relax after her massage. She’d tried to read a book, not to obsess over missing out on her seduction night with Jack, with little success. When the text from the woman had hit her screen she’d tried to place her, then recalled she was one of the single moms on the prowl types who’d shown up one game with a fresh set of tits.
Well, why not have a drink if it would help dispel her regret at being here and not in the smack middle of making love with Jack, reuniting for real. She’d even bought a set of simple rings for them that she’d planned on presenting to him tonight, figuring it was her turn to make The Gesture. The matching platinum bands cost almost as much as a decent diamond engagement ring. She was going to ask him to marry her, and she was convinced he’d say yes.
Ah, best laid plans, she thought as she refreshed her makeup and pulled her hair back in a ponytail. A nice glass of wine and some team parent gossip might be exactly what she needed right now. Katie was with Maddie in the pool and Blake had taken tonight’s dinner duty for them.
She headed out toward the elevator, but when she spotted Matteo doing the same thing, she’d backed around the corner so he couldn’t see her. She didn’t want any part of this guy. And had no intention of getting into an elevator with him.
“Sara?”
She flinched, cursed under her breath, and rounded the corner. “Hi, Matteo.”
He smiled. Dear Lord he was a specimen. But that’s it. Eye candy. She decided to relax and go with it. Riding a damn elevator wasn’t going to hurt anything. “Hi. Can I buy you a drink?”
“Sure,” he said, holding out his arm indicating she should precede him. She did. They stood with a respectable three feet between them. But the damn thing stopped at every floor on the way up, filling with more parents seeking booze. By the time it finally reached the rooftop, she and Matteo were crushed back against the wall and pressed together by sheer necessity given the crowd.
She didn’t realize his arm was around her until the doors opened, bringing fresh air and relief. As the thing emptied out, she looked around, seeking the woman who’d summoned her, wanting to escape from the uncomfortable closeness of the man next to her. It seemed to take forever to get everyone out. She tried to move away from him but his arm tightened ever so slightly.
When she spotted Jack, it confused her for a split second. He wasn’t supposed to be here, was he? The next second, she felt Matteo’s lips near her ear, his breath hot on her neck. She blinked fast, noting how Jack was staring at her. When his gaze shifted to the man glommed onto her, her heart thudded in her chest.
No. Not now. Not like this.
His eyes narrowed as he rushed forward and stood in front of her. She shook the other man off her and watched as he stood, legs spread, arms crossed, face a mask of “back off I’m with her.”
Tears burned but she held them back. She could explain. It would be fine. This was a ridiculous misunderstanding. But the look on Jack’s face made her heart sink down somewhere around her feet. Then she caught sight of Denise, the woman who’d told her to “get up here and party.”
Fury roared in her ears when the woman spoke Jack’s name in a way she recognized from all the time she’d spent coping with the realities of Heather, and then Shannon. Jack seemed to shut down, literally, his expression closing up as he took a step back toward the woman who was, also literally, pulling him away. As she watched, her feet seemingly stuck in glue, the doors started to slide shut. Jack’s arm stopped them.
“What are you doing here? I told you Mo needed…” she began, her voice shaky.
“Mo cancelled. Thought I’d surprise you.”
As she watched, Jack’s face seemed to go through a myriad of emotions, settling finally on disdain, or perhaps nonchalance. She wasn’t sure what was worse. Sh
e opened her mouth to say something to dispel the stupidity of this scene.
“I’ll leave you to your …chat,” Jack said, pre-empting her. She watched him, with Denise still attached to him, move to the left and head for the other elevator. She ran out, tried to stop him, but the doors closed between them. She watched the numbers count down to nine, then head back up. She knew, like she knew the color of her own eyes, that he hadn’t gone to Denise’s room with her. And sure enough, the doors opened again, revealing him, in all his dark-blue-trousered, starchy-dress-shirted glory. She bit her lip. God but he was so…perfect. Even his deep, murderous glare made her weak in the knees.
“Damn it, Jack, you don’t know what…,” she began, confident she could convince him that it was a silly misunderstanding. Part of her proud that she wasn’t even a little jealous of the way Denise had acted, and of her confidence—her trust—that he’d be back.
“I can’t talk to you right now. I need air,” he said before making the doors close prematurely, leaving her standing there, her heart racing, wondering if there would ever be a time she could get this right.
She sensed Matteo before she saw him. She turned to him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea.”
He smiled and shrugged. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you and Katie’s father…”
“No, no, he’s not, I mean. Oh hell.” The tears let loose then, rolling down her face, blurring her vision. She slumped against the wall between the elevators. “I have to go…find him.” He nodded and pressed the down button for her.
She rode the thing to the ground floor, mind blank, ears ringing, heart thudding and making her breathless. How could she fix this? Jack was so stubborn, so unwilling to listen to her.
So much like you, Sara. Get it? Finally?
She stopped on her floor and knocked on Blake’s door. “Sara? You okay?” She saw Maddie and Katie, both curled on a chair with a book.
“Yes. No.” She collapsed into a chair. “Jack’s here.”
“I know.” He handed her a water bottle. “What happened.”
“Nothing. Everything. The usual I guess.” She sighed and reached for his hand. “I don’t know, but I need to go find him.”
“Okay.”
Katie rubbed her eyes and looked up at Sara. She knelt down to her daughter’s eye level. “Honey I’m gonna go see Uncle Jack, okay. Can you sleep here in Uncle Blake’s room with Maddie?” The girl nodded and yawned.
“He texted me. Told me not to tell you he was on his way – wanted to surprise you. Were you surprised Mommy?” Sara tried not to cry and scare the girl.
“Yeah, he surprised me. Be sure to brush your teeth. I’ll take you both to breakfast in the morning.”
After pleading with the front desk to give her Jack’s condo number she started down the darkened path, lighting the way with her smartphone’s flashlight. She stumbled once, not paying attention to the landscaping, and finally found it.
Music poured from the open, well-lit windows. It took four tries knocking, plus her yelling at him to get any response. He threw the door open and leaned on the doorway, half empty bottle of bourbon in hand. She grabbed it and took a big gulp, letting the fiery alcohol scorch its way down her throat.
He glared at her, then went back inside. He’d stripped to his tight-fitting dress trousers. The strong line of his bare shoulders and the musculature of his back made her shiver. If things had worked like they should have, she’d be seducing him right now, on her big white rug in the living room of her house, followed by a sincere proposal. Not standing here like an idiot trying to explain a scene she had no explanation for. One she shouldn’t have to explain since nothing had happened.
Not to mention stuck in a mud pit of remorse for realizing that this is exactly what she’d done to him, so many times, it was a miracle he even spoke to her, much less wanted to rekindle things.
Squaring her shoulders, she marched in behind him. After finding the Bluetooth speaker and turning down the pounding music she had to go out the sliding glass door to find him. He’d parked himself on the patio, bare feet up on a table, staring out onto the darkened golf course. She slid into the seat next to him.
“I see why you were so adamant that I stay behind,” he began.
“No, you don’t.”
“Actually I do. Don’t kid a kidder. I know a diversion when I see it. Hell, I’ve used them myself.”
She swallowed the retort. Getting mad would come across as defensive. And she knew, deep in her gut, that he was fronting. She had to go carefully, plus she had no reason to be defensive. She’d done absolutely nothing wrong. They’d both been caught in bizarre circumstances, as if on purpose, to put them through this particular scene to prove something.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“Because I…I wanted to make sure you were okay.” She clutched her shaking hands together in her lap willing better words from her throat but unable to conjure them.
“I’m fine. Now leave. I think I can say with full authority that we are through. I can’t take this anymore.”
“You? You can’t take it? How do you think I felt when I got to meet your surprise new toy slash girlfriend while I was trying to manage your office for you?” She heard her voice rise and hated herself for bringing it up. She knew that would only raise the ante. Which it immediately did.
“I explained it to you. And told you we’d broken it off. You know, so I could romance you. Jesus.” He grabbed the bottle and knocked back another long drink. “But I didn’t realize the full-on cougar you’d turned into. Nice one, he’s probably young enough to go all night. Unlike some of us old guys.”
She rose, her legs shaking so hard she immediately regretted it.
“I trust you Jack. Even in the face of my fellow soccer mom, clinging on you like a limpet. But you see one thing and misinterpret it and I’m suddenly the reason we’re through?” She moved so she was standing in front of him, looming over him as he lounged, loose-limbed and definitely drunk. “I can see that I’m not the only one with trust issues here. You’ll never grow up and get past her, past what’s-her-name—Jenna. Jesus, man it’s been how many years?”
He got to his heet, forcing her take a step back. Without a word he picked her up and carried her inside. Shocked, angry, but her body already responding to him, she shrieked when he tossed her unceremoniously on the huge bed.
“I should have done this the other night. I shouldn’t have waited.” He tugged her shirt up and off. Unclasped her bra and had it on the floor in seconds. “I fucking love you, goddammit. How many times, how many ways, do I have to prove it?”
She sucked in a breath at the sight of tears standing in his bright blue eyes. He narrowed them and then all she knew was his mouth, lips and tongue. She groaned and wrapped herself around him, but he shoved her down, pinned her wrists with one hand, pulling her jeans and panties off with the other.
“Mine.” He muttered into her neck. The licks and nibbles took on a painful edge making her sigh and her body pulse in immediate response. “Fucking mine.”
“Oh God, yes!” she yelped, clutching his hair, his shoulders, anything and anywhere just to touch him. He teased her outside and in, then stopped as she was about to climax. He stared at her, brought his fingers to her lips, then to his, leaving her writhing with need.
He focused on her nipples next, sucked and tugged on them so hard it brought tears to her eyes. He worked his way down, sucking and biting her flesh until he finally reached her center. He stopped. Their ragged breathing echoed in the room.
“Please, Jack,” she whimpered. “I need…”
He lowered his mouth to her clit, fucking her with his fingers and tongue so hard she had to bite her own hand to keep from yelling so loud she alerted the entire resort. But he stopped, keeping her on the edge, perched, ready to fall. The room began to dim, her hands and feet went numb. Something like terror filled her heart.
“Sara,” he whispered. W
hen he’d moved up her body she couldn’t recall. She nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Look at me.” She shook her head.
“I can’t.” Her whisper filled the room. “I’m scared.”
“Of what?” He kept working her flesh, nibbling, sucking, teasing, penetrating her with a finger, deep, then pulling out. Her body hummed with erotic energy. She squirmed, tried to reach out for him. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’ve told you that before, lots of times. Why won’t you believe me?”
“I’m afraid to love you. I can’t…love anybody. And neither can you.”
He covered her mouth with his, probed with his tongue, ran his hands up and down her naked body. Breaking away, he whispered in her ear before pulling her over on top of him.
“Don’t be afraid. Let go. Fall. I’ll catch you. Let me catch you, please, baby. I need this.”
With one tilt of his hips he was inside her, making her gasp. “Sit up and ride me baby. Like you want.” He pushed her up so she sat, braced against his hard chest with one hand, gripping his thigh with the other.
“Oh dear God,” She thought she yelled but it came out a throaty whisper. Rocking her hips she matched his rhythm as their bodies met, released and met again. He cupped her breasts, pinched her nipples making her move faster toward release. It roared up from the soles of her feet, bringing dark to the edge of her vision. “Jack!”
He groaned, gripped her hips. “Yes. You can.”
The room went black as the exquisite beauty of a Jack induced orgasm rolled through her, making her forget everything but how much she loved him. He flipped them over, pinning her beneath him, pounding into her with a fierce purpose she loved.
She gripped the headboard, lifted her hips, wanting him even deeper. “Fuck me hard Jack. I want it.” He groaned, shuddered and she felt him, warm inside her body. She wrapped her legs around him never wanting it to end. But it did, as most perfect moments did. He took a shuddering breath and pulled out, flopping down beside her.