Hearts at Play

by Melissa Foster

  “Jesus, Bree.” He moved down her body, kissing her stomach and shifting his hips to the side. His mouth found hers again as he slipped his hand down the front of her pants, his fingertips brushing her center. He groaned against her lips. “You’re so wet.”

  Hearing him talk dirty spurred her to him again, and she met his mouth with a clash of tongue and teeth as he pushed his hand deeper. His fingers entered her, and she pulled back from his mouth with a whimper of need. She tugged at his shirt and pulled his bare stomach to hers, pressing her hips against his. He took her in another rough kiss, and the combination of want and need meshed together with the sensations of his loving touch and sensuous tongue and she spiraled up and over the edge. Her head fell back, and he captured her cries of pleasure in his mouth as a thousand pinpricks lit her limbs on fire and stole her concentration. As she eased down from the blissful crest, their kiss became tender.

  “Wow,” she whispered, brushing her hair from her face.

  Hugh glanced down the hall. “As much as I want to take you into your bedroom and make sweet love to you, you haven’t told your little princess about us yet. I have a feeling that if she woke up and found a strange man in her mother’s bed, it might ruin her for life.”

  Brianna traced the outline of Hugh’s biceps with her finger. “Don’t you mean her handsome prince?”

  Hugh smiled down at her. “Well, there is that.” He scooped her into his arms. “So, mama bear, how does this work?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Was there anything else you wanted to know about me before you talk to Layla?” The seriousness returned to his voice.

  “I feel like you’ve bared your soul to me, and everything you’ve told me just draws me even closer to you. I’m just trying to figure things out, and I know we've only been seeing each other for a few days...”

  “It feels like a lifetime.”

  You have no idea. “For me too. I just worry that if we continue to get close and then you’re gone for weeks at a time, that’ll be really hard on Layla.” And me too. “I’m not trying to push our relationship forward. I just…as a mother, I have to think ahead. What I do affects Layla.”

  “Bree.”

  She felt completely off balance. She wanted to crawl into his lap and stay there, safe and sound, but what if safe and sound really meant only a few weeks each year of safe and sound?

  “Bree,” he said again.

  “Yeah?”

  Sitting beside him like this, his hands on her arms, his dark eyes telling her he’d never hurt her, made her worries fall away, but one glance down the hall to her daughter’s bedroom tripped her up again.

  “There are plenty of guys who bring their families with them when they travel. They bring tutors for the kids. Some have a home base and they travel back and forth. If that’s where we’re headed, we’ll figure it out together and do what’s best for Layla.”

  What’s best for Layla. His constant commitment to Layla’s well-being and the way his thoughts repeated Mack’s about how things might work out brought the word fate to the forefront of her mind.

  He tucked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear, and she closed her eyes and just breathed for a minute. “Okay. Thank you.”

  “Stop thanking me.” He put his arms around her again. “What are your plans for the week?”

  She cringed. “Back to real life. I work from ten to ten Monday and ten to five on Wednesday. And I’m working with Claude Tuesday and Thursday morning from eight to one, and then I’m at the tavern from two until ten Tuesday and two to five Thursday because I have Layla’s birthday party late Thursday afternoon. Normally I’d be there until nine or ten. Then I’m back at the tavern again Friday from nine to five.”

  Hugh arched a brow. “You’re working almost fifty hours Monday through Friday?”

  “That sounds about right. They didn’t have any hours for me Saturday. So unless Claude comes through with something, I’ll have that day off, too, which right now would be a blessing.” She leaned against the couch, watching worry lines travel across his forehead.

  “When do you have time with Layla during the week?”

  She lowered her eyes. “I never have enough time with her, but we fit it in. We have breakfast together, and I’ll spend time with her in the evenings, just not much time.” Familiar guilt knotted in her stomach. “What are your plans for the week?”

  “I’ve got a few things to take care of before I leave Friday morning. I was hoping to see you at some point, but you have so little time with Layla that I don’t want to interfere.”

  “I don’t go into work until ten on Monday and Wednesday. We could see each other before work if it fits with your schedule.”

  “I’ll make it work Monday, but Wednesday I have a meeting with a sponsor. Are you talking to Layla about us tomorrow?”

  “I think so, but I can’t do it before school in case it upsets her. She’ll be exhausted Monday night, but that’s probably the best time. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

  “If things go well, and if you feel it’s appropriate, can I take you and Layla out on a double date Wednesday evening?”

  “She’d really like that, but don’t feel pressure to do it.” The idea of it sent a thrill through her.

  He inched closer. “I’ll tell you what. You talk with her and let me know what you think. In the meantime, where do you want to meet tomorrow morning? Do you want to have breakfast together? Do you have any errands you need to run during that time? I can tag along. I don’t care what we do as long as I’m with you.”

  She’d be damned if she’d waste the little time they had together running errands. “Nope. I’m good.”

  “Okay, then why don’t you come over after you take Layla to school and I’ll make you breakfast?”

  “Sounds perfect.” She mentally ticked off each of her sexy undergarments.

  Pink. Definitely pink.

  Or maybe…none at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  THE NEXT MORNING, Layla sat on her knees on the kitchen chair, stabbed a piece of her pancake with her fork, and shoved it in her mouth. “I had fun last night. Can I go to your work again tonight?”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie, but children really aren’t supposed to be at Mommy’s work. Mack made an exception last night, but he can get in trouble if we do that too often. Besides, Grandma rented Tangled to watch with you tonight.” She took a bite of her pancakes and watched Layla crinkle her nose. “Is something wrong with your pancakes?”

  Layla shook her head and stuck her lower lip out in an adorable pout. “I wanted to see Prince Hugh again.”

  Brianna’s body tingled with the anticipation of seeing him. I don’t blame you. “Did you have fun with him, or was it just fun because you were at my work?”

  “I had fun with him. He’s nice and he’s just like the prince in the play I saw with Grandma. He played with me and made up stories and some girl asked him on a date and he said no so he could play with me.” She flashed her tiny Chiclets teeth—and the gap where one was missing—as she put another piece of pancake in her mouth.

  Since they were on the topic of Hugh and Layla appeared to hold him in a positive light, Brianna decided not to wait to discuss their relationship with her. “I wanted to talk to you about him.” She set down her fork and folded her hands under her chin, weighing Layla’s reaction. Of which she had none. Zero. Not even a modicum of interest that would dissuade her from the pancakes as she speared another piece with her fork. “Hugh is a friend of mine. A special friend.”

  “I know.”

  Brianna lowered her hands to her lap. “You know?”

  Layla shook her head. “Uh-huh.”

  “How do you know he’s my special friend?” I’m going to kill my mother.

  She shrugged.

  Brianna’s pulse sped up. She lifted her eyebrows. “What do you think a special friend is?”

  Layla took a drink of her juice, then speared another piece of pancak
e. “Someone who you like a lot. Like Kat. Kat’s a special friend.”

  Brianna smiled. “You’re right. Kat is a very special friend.”

  “And Mack. Mack’s a special friend.” She shoved the pancake in her mouth.

  “Yes, Mack is too. But Hugh is a little different kind of special friend,” Brianna explained. How the hell was she supposed to do this? She had no idea how to differentiate between one kind of special friend and another.

  “Marissa’s mom has a special friend, and she said they kiss. Do you kiss Hugh?”

  Brianna blew out a breath. I guess that’s how I differentiate. “Would it bother you if I did?”

  Layla puckered her lips and wiggled her mouth from side to side. “Do you really like him? Because Grandma said girls should only kiss boys who they really, really like. And she said you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince.”

  “Grandma is right.” And she has a big mouth. “You should only kiss boys that you really, really like, and yes, I really, really like Hugh.”

  Layla sat back on her heels and put her fork down. “I like him too.”

  “That’s good, Layla, because he likes you as well. He’d like to take us out Wednesday night. Would that be okay?”

  She bobbed her head up and down with a toothy grin. “Where will we go?”

  Brianna’s heart soared. “I’m not sure yet. Someplace special.”

  Layla furrowed her brow. “Anywhere?”

  “I think so. Where did you have in mind?” Brianna began clearing the table.

  “I don’t know. You decide.” She jumped off her chair and ran to the table in the living room. “Do we have time to play Drama Queen?”

  And just like that the conversation was over. She’d stewed all night over telling Layla about Hugh, and thirty seconds after hearing it, her child brain had already switched gears. If only it were that easy for adults. “Not before school, but you should know that Hugh is the one that bought that for you.” She checked her watch. In thirty minutes she’d be at Hugh’s house. In thirty-one minutes she’d be in his arms.

  Layla bounced up and down. “Hugh bought this for me? How did he know I wanted it?”

  Brianna smiled at her daughter’s enthusiasm. “I don’t know, but we’d better get your shoes on or we’ll be late.” She had decided to swing back by the apartment after dropping off Layla at school to change before going to see Hugh. Her stomach flipped and dipped.

  In the foyer, Layla slid her blue-stockinged feet into her blue sneakers. “I know how he knew, Mommy. He’s magical. All princes are magical.”

  He has magic hands, but I’m not sure he’s magical. “I think he’s just a really good guesser.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  HUGH PORED OVER the race schedule for the following year. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to figure out the best way to navigate a relationship with Brianna and still maintain his rigorous schedule. He’d been staring at the damned thing for more than an hour, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t focus. It was a good thing he’d lessened his schedule. If he was having this much trouble with an abbreviated race schedule, there was no way he’d have been able to manipulate his way around the heavier competitions and fit in a relationship. Damn it. The thought of Brianna working fifty hours in five days killed him. She needed more time with Layla, and certainly Layla needed more time with her mother. He pushed away from the table and paced.

  The twisting in his gut told him it wasn’t just Layla he was worried about. How would he and Brianna find any time to be together? Racing took his entire focus. For three days of each race week he’d eat, breathe, and sleep racing. There would be press conferences before or after every race, sponsor shoots, dinners, award ceremonies. There was no way his girlfriend could work fifty hours each week and still attend events with him. Hell, if she were his—really his—she wouldn’t have to work a day in her life. She could get back into photography, have more time with Layla and with him. Hugh knew himself too well. He was an obsessive, competitive bastard, and the feelings he had toward Brianna weren’t that different from the ones he had toward racing. Since they’d met, he’d eaten, breathed, and slept with thoughts of her every second. He needed more time with her. Fuck.

  He walked to the glass doors in the living room and pulled them open, inhaling a deep, cleansing breath of the crisp morning air. It did nothing for him. He took another one, thinking about how women had always been like a new set of tires. He’d ride ’em hard and toss them away, never to think about them again. Brianna stuck in his mind like tar. Hot and present, impossible to shake off. And he loved her, damn it. He wanted more time with her, not less.

  He wasn’t leaving town for another four days, and even then he’d be gone for only a night or two and it was already destroying him. He worried about Brianna working too many hours and he worried about Layla not spending enough time with her mother. He worried about the bearded man he’d had a talk with, even though he seemed to have listened. Jesus, he worried about how he’d sleep the night before the race with all this shit running through his head. As it was, he was up half the night wishing she were beside him. How the hell did that happen so fast?

  When his doorbell rang, he hadn’t even prepared breakfast, as he’d planned. He closed the glass doors and crossed the floor in his jeans and bare feet, then took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He reached for the doorknob, and only then did he realize his hands were fisted, the muscles in his arms and neck strung so tight he could play a tune off of them. Shit. The doorbell sounded again.

  Brianna stood before him wearing a short coat that belted around the waist and stopped midthigh. Her legs were bare and shivering. Hugh’s eyes were on a downward scale, and the shivering should have stopped him, but the stiletto heels that she stood upon had him getting hard despite his earlier frustration. Holy hell, was she a dream come true. He had no idea what she had on under that little coat of hers, but there was no way in hell she was wearing that to work. Not today. Not ever, if he had anything to say about it. He forced his eyes back up her crazy, sexy outfit and lingered just above the belt, where his eyes caught on a swatch of skin. He followed the path of silky skin up between her breasts, clear to her succulent lips. Even through his hard-on fog it registered that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and more likely wasn’t wearing anything beneath that coat. Jesus. He pulled her inside and closed the door.

  He backed her up against the wall. Adrenaline had already taken over his body before he opened the door. Now it mixed with testosterone, and he feared he might burst. God only knew how he’d made it through the night without relieving his sexual tension, but he’d made it through. He’d planned a lovely breakfast and a loving intimate interlude—until he’d received the revised race schedule when he’d checked his email, and he’d gotten lost in trying to reconfigure his life. Now Brianna’s scent assaulted him, and just knowing what she probably wasn’t wearing beneath that coat drove his mouth to hers.

  “Well, hello to yo—”

  He cut her short. All of the wanting of the last twenty-four hours and the emotions that made his chest ache and his groin yearn for Brianna exploded in a frenzy of erotic thoughts and carnal needs. He tangled his hands in her hair and tugged her head back, just enough to angle her mouth up so he could kiss her deeper, plundering every breath from her lungs. She made that sound that took him over the edge, a desperate, hungry moan that began somewhere deep inside her and vibrated through her chest. Hugh tugged at the belt on her jacket as she groped his body, fumbling with the button on his jeans and whimpering when she couldn’t set him free. God, how he loved that sexy whimper.

  With a grunt and a groan, he ripped the button off his jeans with one hand and managed to untie the belt of her coat with the other. Her lapels fell away, exposing a perfect path of skin down the center of her beautiful naked body. For a breath he was stunned. Frozen. He couldn’t think. The provocative look in her eye coalesced with the lust coursing through his body, and in that
second he knew he’d never be able to be apart from her. She narrowed her eyes, and her lips parted for him as she reached between his legs and cupped his balls through his jeans.

  “Jesus, Bree.” He wasn’t sure he actually said the words. Did they make it from his brain to his lips? All he knew was that in the next second his hands were on her ass, squeezing, taking hold and pulling her against him. The feel of her cold skin against the heat that boiled within him made him want more of her. His mouth found her breast, teasing her nipple, then grazing it with his teeth. She buried her hands in his hair and held on with a death grip. One hand found her deliciously wet center—and he couldn’t stand to tease her. He had to be inside her. He plunged his fingers in, and she lifted up on her toes with a gasp, lifting her four-inch heels right off the ground and sending his desires into overdrive.

  Brianna reached for his pants, tugging one side of his fly. His jeans fell open, revealing the tip of his erection trapped beneath the waistband of his briefs. She looked down and licked her lips. The innuendo stopped him cold. She ran her fingers down his stomach in a way he’d come to crave, gentle and seductive. She hooked her thumbs in his briefs and tugged them down. They caught on his massive thighs, and she bit her lower lip again, looking up at him through her thick lashes as she bent down to greet his thick length with her mouth. Hugh groaned as she licked every inch, then took him in deep. Holy shit. Had she practiced overnight? He wanted to crawl out of his skin.

  She stood, guiding his back to the wall where she’d just been and playfully held him there.

  “Bree.”

  “Shh. My turn.”

  She brought her mouth to his and pinned him against the wall with her hands, rocking against him. He grabbed her hips, and she pushed his hands away, drawing back from his mouth and snagging his lower lip in her teeth before releasing it and slicking her tongue over the sore spot.

  “Who are you?” He swallowed to settle the eagerness in his voice.