The Player's Game

by Alice Gaines

  He scooped her up in his arms and rose. As he did, she twined her fingers behind his neck and gazed up at him out of her deep brown eyes. She stared at him with complete knowledge of what they were about to do and what it would mean. Yeah, they’d have sex, but there were better, more profound, words for it. This time, they’d be making love. But he wouldn’t use those words, even though he meant them.

  He carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the comforter. In this space, they had no history, good or bad. They only had these moments. They’d be real. They’d be intense. But they’d stay behind when he and she left.

  She watched him as he toed out of his shoes and pulled his polo shirt over his head. When he unzipped his fly and pushed his slacks and boxers over his hips, he revealed himself as only partially erect. She didn’t comment but continued to stare at him as if he were the most fascinating creature on earth. After sitting on the bed, he removed his slacks and socks, making him completely naked. Then he reached a hand over and stroked her cheek. “I didn’t bring you here to talk about unhappy times.”

  “I know.” She smiled. “I think too much sometimes.”

  He laughed. “Major understatement.”

  “Whatcha gonna to do about it?”

  “I know one sure way to shut that powerful mind down.”

  She let him undress her—one of his favorite pastimes. When he had her blouse unbuttoned, she sat up so he could remove it. Then he undid the back clasp of her bra and let her lie back down. She was just as beautiful as the first time he’d laid eyes on her. Small, rounded breasts with dusky rose nipples. He covered one with his big hand and tugged gently at the tip. Her smile grew soft. Lazy.

  Already he was thickening and growing hard, but he intended to make this encounter last. It would be a reconnecting. After they’d parted again, he’d have to avoid this resort, but he’d have the memories to hold inside.

  When her hands moved to the snap of her jeans, he stopped her and undid it himself. “Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe I’m eager.”

  “Well, I’m not. We’re going to take our time.” He removed her shoes. She wouldn’t have been able to get the jeans off over them, anyway. A genius like her should have known that. When he took one sock off, he spent a moment massaging her foot between both hands. He could still remember the day he’d realized his wife had sexy feet. She’d been sitting cross-legged on the couch in their condo, and he found himself staring at her toes. Then her arches. Then her ankles. Before he’d realized what was happening, he’d had a full-blown hard-on. Over her feet.

  He brought it up to his face and planted a kiss on the arch. Propping herself up on her elbows, she cocked her head and stared at him. “Seriously, Grant, my foot?”

  “Seriously, Katy, I want every inch of you.”

  “Knock yourself out.” She lay back down and watched him while he freed the other foot from its sock and massaged it. After digging his fingers into the ball, he tugged on each toe individually.

  “Oooh,” she said. “I might pay you to do that every day.”

  He would do it every day if she wanted, for free. If he hadn’t screwed up their marriage, he might still be doing it. But at this moment, he wasn’t going to dwell on that. And, of course, there were other parts of her body that needed attention.

  So he went back up to her jeans and her panties and eased them over her hips. She squirmed to help him get them off, and she was finally, blissfully naked. He sat back on his heels and drank in the sight of her. No matter how many times he looked at her, he still couldn’t believe this beautiful, brilliant woman had chosen him. It had seemed too good to be true when she’d accepted his marriage proposal. And maybe it had been. Two years of happiness and then four. But when his buddies’ wives had started having babies, he’d wanted one, too. He’d pushed Katy too hard. He should have known that his “take charge” attitude didn’t work for every situation.

  She watched him staring at her. “What are you thinking?”

  “Never ask a guy that. He’s never thinking anything except maybe how he wants to have sex.”

  “No, Grant. Jimmy maybe, but not you.”

  “Because I’m getting old?” he said.

  “You’re not getting old.”

  “Tell that to the team.”

  “Make love with me, and I’ll prove you’re not getting old.” She lifted her arms to invite him closer.

  Of course, he took the invitation. No man in his right mind wouldn’t. The “making love” bit had his gut clenching, though. People didn’t say that anymore. It was hooking up or having sex or even silly things like “getting jiggy.” With Katy, it was love. It always would be. Oh, hell, she was going to break his heart again, and he couldn’t do a damned thing to prevent it.

  Poor, helpless guy that he was, he held himself over her and stared down into her face—into her bottomless dark eyes. Her answering smile said she trusted him. With her body, yes. She always had. But she trusted him not to hurt her. And although that was the worst thing he could possibly do—the one thing he’d promised his eight-year-old self he’d never do…hurt anyone—he could so easily do it again. If he gave all of himself to her and she let herself love him again, they could end up in the same place that had ended their marriage.

  He was only human. He couldn’t predict the future. He only had the present, and that involved joining their bodies in a way that would allow their souls to touch, if only for a moment.

  When he kissed her, she melted against him. There was no other way to describe it. She went all soft and sweet beneath him, tasting his lips as if they were nectar. Their mouths met and retreated and came together again until he could hardly breathe because of all the beauty. His shaft, which had only needed a little encouragement, had now swollen to full thickness and length, cushioned against her belly. She had to feel it and realize how much he wanted her. Always wanted her.

  By now, her breath was coming in shallow puffs, and he was having to work for air, too. The first mists of arousal flitted around his mind, leaving behind the ocean outside and the gulls and pretty much anything that wasn’t the feel of having Katy’s body against his. He had a woman to satisfy and a whole night to do it in.

  He began along the inevitable path to explore her. First, one last kiss and then caresses tracing the line of her jaw. Grasping her breasts in his hands, he sucked on one nipple at a time, bringing each to stiff points. She let out a soft “oooh,” and arched her back, telling him he’d done it right. Every time they made love, she let him feel like a king—as if he was the only guy who could make her feel this way.

  When he moved lower, she caught his head between her palms. “Not this time.”

  He raised himself up over her again. “You don’t want me to taste you?”

  “No bells and whistles this time,” she said. “I want the pure pleasure of having you inside me.”

  “You have to let me play with you a little.”

  “Okay,” she said. “A little.”

  He rolled onto his side and slid his fingers into the sweet spot between her legs. Her clitoris was already hard, and he found it easily. When he stroked it, she closed her eyes and let out a little whimper. She was so sensitive here. He’d brought many women to climax—all his lovers, as a matter of fact. No one came as quickly or as hard as Katy did.

  In a moment, she grew wet—proof of her desire for him. She’d closed her eyes and was practically purring. What a woman. What an incredible lover. What a wife.

  No. He could not let himself think that. This was temporary. In a few days, she’d go back to her work, and he’d get ready for training camp. They weren’t married. But maybe for a few minutes, he could pretend—fantasize that he could do this with her, and for her, every night if they wanted. And they would always want.

  She opened her eyes again and gazed at
him. Again, for just this point in time, he could imagine he saw love in her expression and a promise like the ones they’d made to each other on their wedding day. Till death did them part.

  “Now, Grant,” she whispered.

  No bells and whistles, she’d said. Just the pleasure of having him inside her. He could do that…now and forever. As he rolled onto her, she reached between them to take his shaft in her hand and guide the tip to her sex. He slid in slow and easy. She was so wet and ready for him. She instigated a gentle rhythm at first, in and out so she could measure every inch of him.

  “Oh, yesss,” she crooned. “Like that.”

  Nothing else in the world felt like being inside Katy, as if they’d been specifically built for each other. Her inner walls grasped him, creating delicious friction with every thrust. Then she wrapped her legs around him, giving him an angle to go deeper. His body went on auto-pilot as the primitive drive to possess her took over. Damn, he wanted this to last. Forever, if he could manage it. She’d climax, and he’d join her, and then the fantasy would end. The world would return with all its stupidity, crushing his dream to make her his own. But he couldn’t stop now. They were both headed to the inevitable.

  “Grant,” she cried.

  “Yes, my love.”

  “Don’t stop.”

  She’d neared her orgasm, and he couldn’t deny her, even if he’d wanted to. He went faster, harder, as her gasps and cries grew louder. Then, with a final sweet note of completion, she climaxed. Her walls clenched around him and launched explosions of her muscles, milking him until his own orgasm squeezed the breath from him and sent him shooting to the stars. Lights flashed behind his eyelids as he released his lust into her in waves. So powerful. So perfect. So Katy.

  When they’d both finished, he rolled onto his side and held her against him, both of them breathing hard as their hearts beat together. The perfect moment had ended, but he’d always have it in his memory.

  Chapter Seven

  By the time the sun came up, Katy was working on her third cup of coffee and the sixth deposition in the Berkshire case. The office had sent her all the files. Thousands of pages. How would she ever get through them all before she had to report to Charles Grey in a week?

  Grant appeared in the living room. “I turned over, and you weren’t there.”

  “I couldn’t sleep. So I decided to get some work done.”

  “How long have you been up?”

  Good question. She rubbed her eyes. “I dunno…maybe since four?”

  “Is that any way to spend your vacation?”

  “Vacation’s over.” She gestured toward the kitchen. “I made coffee.”

  He disappeared for a few seconds and then came back with the near-empty coffee pot in his hand. “How much of this did you drink?”

  “A few cups.”

  “You know too much of it upsets your stomach,” he said.

  “It helps me think.”

  He brought the carafe to his nose and made a face. “It’s spoiled, and you’re still drinking it?”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll make some more.”

  “You don’t need any more coffee.” He set the carafe on her yellow-lined pad. “Katy, what are you doing?”

  This was the way their arguments always started—with him talking to her as if she were a naughty child, demanding to know what she thought she was doing. She rested her palms on the table and looked up at him. “I have a lot of catching up to do on this case before I go back to work.”

  “Jim just sent it to you. He can’t expect you read it all in a few days.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t,” she said. “But I do. I’m not going to make a fool of myself in front of a senior partner.”

  He stared at her for a long time. Who knew what was going on in his head when he did that? But it wasn’t usually a good sign.

  “Listen to me, Katy.” He pulled out the chair next to hers and sat. “What I said to you that night—”

  “I don’t want to go through that again.” He was talking about their last argument, of course. That horrible night when she’d ordered him out of the condo and he’d left, swearing he’d never be back.

  “You have to because you haven’t gotten over it,” he said. “What I said to you… It wasn’t true. I was just so mad.”

  “I called you a dumb jock.” Those words. She couldn’t erase them.

  “So I told you you wouldn’t have your job if you hadn’t been married to me.”

  “You called it ‘my effing job,’” she said. “That Jim Brandenburg had only hired me to get close to you.”

  “It isn’t true.” He blew out a breath. “Jim hired you because you’re the best. I had nothing to do with it.”

  She stared at her laptop screen, but the words didn’t make any sense. Fighting with Grant had always had that effect on her. It rendered her illiterate. Just what she did not need now. Damn it all.

  He touched her cheek and turned her to face him. “Katy, you have to believe me. You can handle any work Jim sends you unless you make yourself sick trying to do too much.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said. “I think.”

  He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay. I tried. You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

  “That you know better than me what’s good for me. Got it.”

  “I’m not going to fight with you anymore. I’d give my right arm if I could take those words back.”

  He probably meant it. She’d often thought the same thing about the words she’d said. The two of them simply couldn’t coexist, no matter how wonderful the last few days had been. They provoked each other’s passions too much, both good and bad.

  He got up. “I’m going to shower and get ready for the day. Are you with me?”

  They’d visit another high school or a kid’s club…and endure another encounter with the press and Jimmy Harrington. “You don’t really need me today, do you?”

  “Nope.” He shrugged. “Stay here and work if you want. But don’t drink anymore coffee.”

  …

  Katy was nowhere to be seen when Grant returned to the cottage late that afternoon. He went out on the deck, hoping she might be on the beach or in the water and not holed up somewhere with a computer, reading depositions. No such luck.

  Back inside, he went to where she’d been working that morning. Her laptop battery was about to die, so he found the charging cord nearby and took the whole thing to a socket so he could plug it in. She’d probably fall apart if she lost any work. Why did she have to be so damned insecure about her abilities? He knew he hadn’t helped with the nasty remark that had served as the final nail in their marriage’s coffin. But if she had confidence in herself, the barb wouldn’t have hit home so hard. And she would have believed him this morning. But where in hell was she?

  He found the answer in the bedroom. She was curled up in a fetal position on top of the comforter, fully dressed. She must have finally allowed herself to take a nap.

  He went back into the dining area and sat at the table. This was so not what he’d rented this cottage for. He was supposed to have her today and tonight before they headed back to the city. Good food and wine. Walking on the beach and splashing in the water. Maybe skinny-dipping at night. Making love. At least, he’d managed that once before her work took possession of her. She’d only set foot outside once, as far as he could tell.

  Her phone rang. The display said it was her father. Grant should let it go. Roger McCord most definitely didn’t want to talk to him, and the feeling was mutual. A pretentious son of a bitch, Katy’s father was probably the reason for her insecurity. Nothing she ever did was good enough for the professor. She hadn’t even managed to be a son.

  The more the phone rang, the more Grant could picture the man on the other end and couldn’t help thinking of the high-handed
way he treated his wife and daughter. The wife had made her bed, but his only child deserved better. So Grant picked up the phone and answered the call. “Hello.”

  There was silence at the other end for several seconds.

  “Is this Grant?” her father’s voice said finally.

  “The one and only.”

  “You’re with Katy?” McCord said.

  “She’s asleep right now,” Grant said. “Can I take a message?”

  That would let McCord know, if he’d had any doubts, that Grant and Katy were staying together. Like a married couple. Let him stew on that for a while.

  “It’s only five in the afternoon,” McCord said.

  “She got up early. She’s probably already worked twelve hours.” Because of the pressure this man put on her to measure up to his supposed accomplishments.

  “Why are you there, Grant?” McCord said.

  “Technically, she’s with me, not the other way around,” Grant said. “We’re doing a PR tour for my team.”

  “Haven’t you hurt her enough?”

  “What went on between us is none of your business,” Grant said.

  “It is, if it involves my daughter.”

  “Who’s that?” Katy emerged from the bedroom.

  “Your father.”

  “And you answered?” she whispered. She walked to him and put out her hand for the phone. Grant gave it to her and sat back to listen to her end of the conversation.

  “Hi, Dad.” She was silent for a few seconds. “Yes, I’m with Grant.”

  Her clothes were rumpled, and her hair was all askew from sleep. Even though she’d napped, there were circles under her eyes. If Grant had his way, he’d take her back to bed and hold her until she drifted off again. Maybe he’d feed her first. She probably hadn’t eaten anything all day.

  “The head of my firm suggested it,” she said into the phone. “I know, Dad. I know.”

  About now, she’d be getting an earful about how Grant had the intellect of a turnip and had probably taken too many hits to his helmet. The bastard had been a wet blanket at their wedding, even keeping Katy’s mother from enjoying herself.