A New Season: Rules of the Game Book Six

by Tharp, Emma

  Using the key her mom gave me, I open the door and step inside.

  Lora is sitting up with her laptop on her lap—she has been lying flat with her leg elevated most of the time. Her hair is down today, the long blonde strands over one shoulder and she’s not wearing any makeup. It doesn’t matter; she’s still absolutely gorgeous. She gives me a once-over before she says, “What's in the bag?"

  "Paninis from Joe's Deli."

  That gets me the desired result. It's been a week and a half since I started helping Lora and I already know the food that makes her smile. Today is no different. She sets her laptop on the coffee table and gives me a beautiful smirk. "Sounds great."

  "How's the ankle today?" I ask.

  "Not bad. It feels better today than it did yesterday."

  "Good." I hand her the bag and point to my hammer. "I remember you saying you wanted to hang some things on your walls. Yet they’re still bare. Let me help."

  "You're already doing too much. The walls can wait."

  It’d be nice if she’d drop the I-don’t-need-your-help business. I want more than anything to be here in any way she needs. "No, I really want to help. What did you need to hang up?"

  She averts her gaze. "Okay. In my bedroom on the dresser there are a couple of photos and a decorative wall hanging. It’d be great if you could put them up."

  Making my way to her bedroom, I call over my shoulder, "You got it."

  I go to her dresser and examine the pictures sitting there. One is of her and her sister, Meg. They both look beautiful in fancy dresses. Must've been a big event. The other framed photo is of Lora, Meg, and their parents. In this picture, they're all dressed casually and everyone looks a little bit younger. There's also a frilly wall hanging with metal and flowers. I grab them all and take them to the living room. "These the ones?"

  She just put a bite of her chicken panini in her mouth. She nods and points to the wall to her left. "Can you put the pictures over here? Stagger them, one next to the other."

  "I can do that. When was this one taken?" I ask, referring to the family photo.

  "It was at least five years ago now. We all went to Martha's Vineyard for summer vacation. We had the best time."

  Moving the pictures around the wall, she gives me a thumbs-up when she wants me to stop. I pull the pencil out of my pocket and draw a small line at the top as my point of reference. I tug the small box of nails that I brought with me from my back pocket and get to work. "This is a great picture. It seems like forever since my family's done a group photo."

  "My mother always tries to get us to meet up for family photos, but one of us is always busy. This one wasn't even planned. Mom handed her cell phone to a stranger and asked them to take the picture. It just so happened to turn out great."

  Hammering the nail into the wall, I hang the picture and stand back. "What do you think?"

  "Perfect." She pats the seat next to her. "Why don't you eat while your sandwich is still warm? You can put the others up after you're done."

  My stomach growls. “Great idea." Setting my hammer down on the floor, I take a seat on the couch next to Lora and pull my sandwich out of the bag, along with the salt and vinegar chips.

  I can feel her eyes on me with every movement. I do want her, badly, but I'm being a good boy and keeping my hands to myself. It's important for her to start trusting me again and getting physical before that happens isn't a good idea. But that doesn't mean that I still don't think about her warm lips on mine. It felt so right when I kissed her the night she twisted her ankle, more right than anything else in a very long time. My body heats up at the memory. I shove a handful of chips in my mouth, anything for a distraction. "Did you do your exercises today?"

  "I did most of them, but when we’re done eating can you help me with a couple of the stretches?" She bites her full bottom lip, teeth scraping against the soft flesh.

  I look away quickly. "Of course."

  Since I have been taking her to physical therapy three times a week, the therapist asked me to assist her with some of her exercises.

  We finish our lunch in companionable silence, but all the while the only thing I can think about is that in a few minutes I'm going to be touching her.

  I take the wrappers from our lunch and throw them in the garbage. In the living room, Lora is sitting up with her legs stretched across the couch. I sit at the opposite end and gently take her foot in my hand. "It's looking a little better." The bruise has gone from deep purple to a dark yellow.

  I'm slow as I move her foot toward her, away from her, and in each direction. Paying close attention to her facial expressions, I monitor how deep I can go with the stretches based on her reaction. "This feel okay?"

  She nods.

  Her therapist taught me how to massage the bone on the outside of her ankle. It’s supposed to help it heal faster. I press my thumb toward the bone and start with gentle pressure. She lets out a soft moan and in response my body tenses. She doesn't mean it to be, but the sound is so erotic. I can imagine all of the other ways I could make her moan like that. Head out of the gutter, Nick. "How does that feel?"

  She sighs. "I could let you do this all day long. It feels so good."

  Nope, if she keeps making those noises for much longer, I might explode.

  When I add slightly more pressure, Lora tilts her head back, resting it on the backrest. Her delicate neck is exposed and all I want to do is kiss it. I know she loves it when I do that, and so do I. It’s a vivid memory I have from the night we had sex four years ago. I loved breathing her in and tasting her skin. My dick gets hard and I look down, keeping my focus on her ankle.

  The last thing I have to do is change direction and massage up toward her hip. She lets out a long exhale as if she's been holding it in all day. It's a sexy sound and she has no idea what it's doing to me. I've got to finish this and get out of here. If I don't, I might ravage her in her vulnerable state and that really wouldn't be cool.

  "There." Laying her foot back on the couch, I ease myself off and hurry into the kitchen to fill a bag with ice. I bring it back into the living room and set it on her ankle. Checking my watch, I say, "Do you need anything else? I have to get going." My voice is hoarse and awkward.

  She narrows her eyes, clearly confused by my display. "No, I’m all set."

  I lean in and give her forehead a kiss. "Great. Call me if you need anything." Rushing out the door, I go to my apartment. As soon as I'm inside I strip down and take an ice-cold shower.

  Nine

  Loralei

  "Did you get all of your work done today?" Nick asks and kisses my forehead before taking a seat on his favorite spot of my couch. The familiar feeling of butterflies taking flight in my belly settles in. He sets a takeout bag on the coffee table.

  "Yes. How was practice today?" I've been able to work remotely these past few weeks and it’s been a lifesaver.

  "Awesome. The guys are getting really excited. The season starts in a week and a half." Nick gets a ridiculously sexy grin on his face as he tugs out a couple of containers from the bag and opens one. The smell of garlicky chicken makes my stomach growl.

  Scooting myself to the edge of the couch, I look at Nick and say, "Let me show you something." I ease up gingerly to my feet and Nick bolts up and is next to me in a split second. "I'm okay. Watch.” I take a couple of slow steps without my crutches, turn around, and make my way back to the couch.

  "No way. That's amazing.” Nick gives me a high-five.

  I was hesitant to show him how well I've been doing because I've been getting used to him coming around and paying attention to me. Three weeks of painful physical therapy, resting, and icing my ankle, and it finally seems to be healing. Nick has stood by me and helped me through it all. He brought me food, cooked for me, and kept me company. The only thing he hasn't done is kiss me again. I don't know what he's waiting for, because I definitely want him to. He's the reason I'm doing so well and I had to share it with him. "It feels about 80% bett
er. I'm so thankful."

  “Did you practice that today?” he asks.

  “Yeah. I was nervous, but it was time.” I remember this morning practicing using the edge of the counter. It wasn’t painful, so I let go and was surprised at how much easier it was than I thought it’d be.

  "I’m proud of you, but even if you tell me you don't need me anymore, I'm still coming around." He leans in closer, close enough so I can feel his warm breath on my skin. The particles in the room shift and I’m acutely aware of every movement Nick makes toward me. When his lips gently caress mine, all of my pent-up desire bubbles to the surface. I’m so hungry for him. I press my tongue against his, tasting him, feeling his heat. Desire ripples low in my belly and I whimper against his lips.

  "You're going to drive me crazy," he moans.

  "You drove me crazy years ago."

  His lips burn against mine, searing me, stoking the fire that I thought burnt out all those years ago. The kisses we’ve shared recently were good, but they weren’t as intense as this.

  He eases me back and lays me down. "I want you. But you have to tell me if it's not what you want." His hands caress my sides and I can barely think past the feel of his touch.

  I should tell him to stop now, before we take it too far again. But it feels different this time. We feel different this time. It’s like holding a match, knowing if I touch the flame, it will burn me, but I'm drawn to it and I have to do it anyway. "Yes, please."

  That's all it takes and the switch is turned on. He lifts my shirt off and unclasps my bra, sending them both to the floor. He kisses my neck, making his way down to my collarbone. His velvety tongue strokes against my oversensitive nipple, caressing it until it’s a hard point. I nearly burst from the barrage of sensations coursing through me.

  He lays gentle kisses over my ribs, down my abdomen until he's between my legs. Tugging off my shorts and pink panties, I watch him as he stares at my naked body in front of him. His eyes are half-lidded and lust-filled. He flicks his tongue over my clit once, twice, and sucks it into his mouth. I arch my back and let out a long, shaky moan.

  With Nick's mouth on me, my head swims in a deep pool of desire. His skilled tongue knows exactly what to do, exactly how to bring me pleasure. "You're so sexy," Nick says just before he presses his finger inside me.

  With every flick of his tongue and thrust of his finger I sink further into the abyss. My body’s hot, feverish. Every sense is heightened: the light scrape of his scruff along my inner thigh, the sound of my heavy breathing, his masculine scent all around me. I grasp his hair and hold on as the coiling in my core tightens.

  Bright stars burn behind my eyelids and my body shudders as I come apart. A ragged pant leaves my lips. Looking down, I watch this gorgeous man, his mouth never leaving me until every wave of bliss is extinguished and my body is completely limp.

  Nick kisses his way up my body until he is staring me in the eyes, unblinking, and says, "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you, just tell me."

  I want it all. Love and happiness and a future with him. I don't want him to break my heart again. But that's not what he's asking. "I want you inside me."

  He nods and stands in front of me. Stripping off his shirt first, I’m granted a view of chiseled chest and ab perfection. His pants and boxer briefs are next. His body used to be thinner; now he’s stacked with long, lean, corded muscles. And his erection is long and hard. My mouth waters.

  “Do you have condoms?” he asks.

  “The drawer in my nightstand.”

  “Don’t move,” he calls over his shoulder on his way to my room.

  “Not going anywhere.” I watch his round ass walk away. God, he’s impossibly gorgeous.

  In what feels like seconds later, he’s back in the living room, climbing on top of me, careful to avoid my injured ankle. “You’re beautiful, Lora.” He palms my breast and runs his thumb over my nipple—just that alone starts the hum between my legs again.

  “You know you look good,” I say, my tone breathy. It’s the understatement of the decade.

  “I like to hear you say it.” He kisses me and glides his finger between my legs. “So wet.” He replaces his finger with his erection, gently rubbing it against me. He teases, building the sweet ache inside. Arousal spikes hard and fast through me.

  When I can’t take it another minute, I moan and buck my hips up, desperate for more. “Please.”

  He must hear the plea in my voice, or maybe he can’t handle it anymore either, because he pushes inside me, groaning into my mouth. Nick stills and we stare at each other, his blue eyes dark with desire. I’m stretched and full of him and I can’t tell where he ends and I begin.

  He’s slow, unhurried with the force of his thrusts. I join in the dance and move with him, like it’s second nature. As if this wasn’t only the second time we’ve been together. “You feel so good,” I pant.

  “So fucking good.” Pushing up onto his hands, sweat shines on the muscles of his tight chest and biceps. At this angle, he’s hitting deep and his pace speeds up. Twining my legs around his back, he sinks even deeper and I gasp.

  Nick’s beautiful body pumps into me now as if he’s starting to lose control. His movements aren’t fluid anymore, but erratic and unrestrained.

  In a sudden rush, my body tenses, knotting tightly right before I clench around him and an intense orgasm racks my body, pulse after pleasure-filled pulse.

  He doesn’t slow his tempo, his muscles flexing and contracting with each deep thrust. He lets out a long, harsh groan and his body goes rigid, eyes pinched tightly closed before his orgasm rips through him.

  He eases off, rolling us to our sides and wraps his arms around me. We’re snuggled in close. My head is laying on his chest. It’s intimate and pulls emotion out of me that’s been buried deep inside for a long time. Tears sting the back of my eyes, but I don’t let them fall.

  “I’ve missed you.” Nick’s voice is muffled by my hair. Even though we’ve seen each other every day for the last three weeks, I know what he means.

  He’s got no idea how much I’ve missed him, too.

  Now I’m powerless to stop the tears.

  What have I done?

  Ten

  Loralei

  "Thanks for coming to get me," my sister, Meg, says as she drops her suitcase on the floor and plops herself on my couch.

  "It's not a problem." I take the seat next to her and cross my legs, massaging my ankle. It seems to be healed, but the drive back and forth to the airport made it a little tender. What I wouldn't give for one of Nick's massages. Tingles form low in my belly even thinking about his hands on me. Every time he gave me a massage, my body would come alive under his touch. But thoughts of Nick right now aren't productive. I can't talk to Meg about him, at least not yet. Meg is strong-willed and at times opinionated. She’s formed her opinion about Nick. And since she’s only just got here, I’m not sure I’m in the mood to come face-to-face with Megan’s judgment.

  Meg sprawls out, leaning back, making herself right at home. "Is your ankle still bothering you?"

  "No, it's not bad at all. So much better than it was." Again, I'd like to bring up Nick and tell her how much he's helped me out, but I need to feel her out first.

  "Well, that's good." She puts her fingers through her shoulder-length blonde hair and scoops it up into a low bun. "So, fill me in on everything. How have things been since you've been home? Any new guys to speak of?"

  I bite my lip and look down. I've never been good at hiding things from my sister. "It's been really good to be back here. I don't miss Tyler at all."

  This has her sitting up straighter, grasping for my thigh. "I'm so glad you're away from that asshole. Has he tried to reach out?"

  "Thank goodness, no." I wouldn't answer, even if he did.

  "Guess he finally took the hint."

  "Must be. You ready for a drink?" Before she even answers, I'm standing and making my way to the kitchen. If there's one thing I know ab
out my sister, it's that she loves her Chardonnay. I pour two glasses from the bottle I have in the refrigerator, bring them back to the living room, and hand her one.

  "You love me," Meg says happily, taking the glass in both hands, almost hugging it to herself.

  "Yes, I do." I take a sip of the crisp wine. "What about you? Anyone you’d like to settle down with?”

  She waves her hand, like the idea of having a boyfriend is preposterous. Which is too bad. I’m sure she gets lonely living so far away from us in Seattle. Her adventurous spirit took her there for a job in the PR department at a big tech firm. "My needs are being met, but there's no one serious to speak of."

  That's my sister, a lover of casual sex.

  "Don't give me that look," Meg says in her stern tone.

  I didn't even realize I was giving her one. "Sorry. You know I don't judge you."

  Her perfectly manicured eyebrows pinch together as she stares me down like I’m a bomb ready to go off. "Something is going on with you. What's up?"

  This is going to be difficult. Meg was there for me. When I cried so hard I couldn't breathe. When my chest hurt from the pain of not hearing from Nick. I give her a timid smile. "I've been seeing someone. And you're not going to approve."

  Now her brows slide up her forehead. "Who?"

  I breathe in heavily and blow it all out, my heart beating like a drum in my chest. "Nick Parker."

  Meg's green eyes widen and look like they might bulge out of her head. "You're kidding me, right?" Sarcasm drips from her tone.

  I shake my head. "It just happened. I didn't plan for it, it just did. And believe me when I tell you that Mom had something to do with this."

  "You have some explaining to do, sister."

  Starting from the beginning, I tell her all about running into him at his party and how much he seemed to have changed. "Then Mom called him to tell him to come over. She asked him to help me when I sprained my ankle, since he lives down the hall. And he did. Every day he stopped by, bringing me food, hanging up my wall art, stretching my ankle. We had time to get to know each other again. I like the man he’s become."