Hot Number

by Carly Phillips

  Either way, she'd given him a green light. He pushed his chair back and stood. Towering over her, he slid her chair back, too, then braced his hands on the armrests and leaned close, his lips inches from hers.

  She swallowed hard and he sensed her nervousness, reminding him that despite the show of bravado, she wasn't the experienced, easy kind of woman he was used to. Somehow it made him desire her more.

  He clenched his fingers around the hard wood. "I want you, too."

  Her eyes grew wide, the blue pools deepening with pleasure. "So what's holding you back?"

  "Not a damn thing." Without hesitating, he sealed his lips over hers and gave into the temptation he'd been fighting.

  She sighed, the sound soft and full of complete relief as her lips parted and she took him inside. She tasted of pure woman. He slanted his mouth for better access and thrust his tongue deep and hard.

  A part of him realized he was testing her, seeing if his unleashed need would scare her off, because he knew if he took this woman to bed there would be no holding back. He even wondered if a part of him hoped she'd retreat before it was too late.

  But she wasn't running away. Instead she pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around his neck so he could continue his assault. And as he circled the warm, moist recesses of her mouth, their tongues tangling, their teeth grazing, he realized they shared an equally overwhelming desire. One that had to be sated immediately.

  He reached back, untangled her hands and brought them down to her sides, while breaking the kiss slowly. Gently. In a way that let him savor every movement. The brush of his lips over hers, the soft licks of his tongue across the moisture they'd created, and the light nip of his teeth on her flesh.

  She moaned and tried to entice him back into a soul-searching kiss, but he couldn't take another minute of kissing and teasing like they were horny teenagers who couldn't complete the act. Because they most certainly could.

  "Let's go upstairs," he said, his voice hoarse with desire.

  She nodded. "I think the dining room would be awkward."

  "Not to mention, hard on my back."

  Micki grinned. "Not as young as you used to be, are you, Fuller?"

  He laughed despite how true that statement was. With Micki, he didn't feel the need to hide the painful truth. "Just keep that little secret to yourself."

  She met his gaze, the moment suddenly too serious.

  "I'm not too old for this." He bent down, lifted her into his arms, favoring his good hand, and carried her straight to his bed.

  BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU ASK FOR, Micki thought as Damian swept her off to his bedroom in true fairy-tale form. But if he was her prince, he wasn't the permanent, happily-ever-after kind. Just the fantasy she'd dreamed about for most of her life, and one she had every intention of enjoying.

  His bedroom was large with oversize shuttered windows, dark wood furniture, and a navy-and-cream color scheme, all dominated by a California king-size bed. When he laid her back against the pillows, butterflies filled her stomach, but no second thoughts raced through her mind. Apparently he had none either. He straddled her lower body with his thighs and his gaze never left hers as he pulled his shirt up and over his head.

  Micki swallowed hard. For a woman who'd spent a lifetime in male locker rooms, she would have thought she was immune to a muscled body. No such luck. The man was sculpted and gorgeous, from his stubbled beard, sexy chest, down to the sprinkle of hair disappearing into the waistband of his jeans.

  She'd examine what lay beneath that denim in a little while. For now she wanted to focus on his exposed upper body. "You have a golfer's tan," she mused. With one finger, she traced the tan lines that cut his forearms where his uniform sleeves ended.

  He visibly shivered, reacting to her touch. "I'd prefer to call it a ballplayer's tan “

  "Semantics." Emboldened, she drew an imaginary line beginning on his arms and traveling straight across his chest where his tanned neck abruptly changed to the paler hue.

  She shut her eyes and continued to run her palm over his flesh, letting her senses take over. The texture of his hair-roughened skin, so different from her own, caused tremors of awareness to shoot through her body. As for Damian, when her fingertips touched his nipples, he sucked in a sharp breath. The sound echoed in her ears and gave her yet another taste of feminine power.

  In the past, Micki had had her share of lovers. The relationships hadn't worked, not for her and not for the guy with whom she was involved. Most of the men had been sports guys she'd met through her job. Some had wanted an in with her powerful uncle; others had been interested in a short fling. The sex had been fine but had never been fulfilling. There hadn't been much give and take, and the relationships had left her empty in ways she hadn't understood.

  As a result of those brief and ultimately unsatisfactory affairs, Micki could never have imagined affecting any man deeply on a physical level. Especially a man as sexual as Damian.

  Once again, she smoothed her fingertips over Damian's hardened nipples, lingering this time, teasing him with her touch and lightly scraping her nails across his skin. He let out a groan of satisfaction that sent ripples of arousal straight to her core. She affected him. And the arousal in his voice caused dampness to pool between her thighs.

  He touched her chin.

  She opened her eyes and found herself looking into his chocolate-colored gaze. Warm and sexy, his stare was focused solely on her. "That's better," he said in a husky voice.

  "Why?"

  "I want to see your expression when I reciprocate." With a wicked grin, he eased her shirt upward. She leaned forward to help and quickly her shirt ended up on the floor, leaving her in a bra that was quite different than what she was used to. Where she chose lacy fabric that left a lot to the imagination, the garment she'd found in the drawer showed everything to anyone who cared to look.

  Damian did, his eyes growing wide. When Micki glanced down to see what had him so fascinated, she received a glimpse of her own breasts, plump and full inside the sheer material, her clearly visible nipples fully puckered and erect. Self-consciousness had her lifting her hands to cover herself, but he stopped her. He trapped her arms at her sides, holding them in place with his strong thighs.

  "Do you want to know exactly what you do to me?" he asked. "Why I'm breaking a self-imposed promise to keep my hands to myself? Why I'm here when I should be with the team, injury be damned?"

  Mouth dry, she merely nodded.

  She expected him to cup her breasts in his hands and braced herself for the onslaught of sensation. He leaned forward and captured her nipple in his mouth instead.

  Micki sucked in a startled breath. She glanced down to see his dark hair against her chest, tickling her skin. She felt a rush of warm breath and accompanying moisture, and a moan escaped her throat

  "I get it," she choked out. This was worth breaking the rules for.

  He lifted his head and cool air brushed her damp skin. "No, you don't. Not yet." He placed his thumb over one distended,nipple and pressed hard and deep until her hips bucked beneath him and she cried out with need. "But you will," he promised.

  He obviously wasn't finished and she didn't know whether to beg for mercy or let him continue until she couldn't take any more. He grazed with his teeth, laved with his tongue, and finally suckled her nipple for a long, leisurely time until she writhed beneath him.The sensations tackled her body with unprecedented force, and with shaking hands, she reached for the button of his jeans.

  Stripping off their clothes was a blur-who pulled off whose pants, who unhooked Micki's bra, she had no idea. All she was aware of was haste born of desire and building need. A need they both shared to get closer, to let skin touch skin with nothing in between.

  She hadn't realized the implications of being so close to Damian. His heated flesh branded her and as he came over her, the silken strength of his erection pressed hard and hot against her thigh. This wasn't sex, this was intimacy and she'd have to live with tha
t knowledge for the rest of her life, when Damian was long gone.

  But while he was here, he was hers and she intended to savor the moments. Hooking her leg around his, she adjusted their positions, shifting him so that not only was he on top of her, but his member was poised at the place she needed him most.

  "I was right," he said, his gruff voice rumbling in her ear.

  "About what?"

  He paused for a deep, wet kiss, his mouth melding with hers. God, she thought, the man was good.

  "No matter how hard you tried to hide it, you are one hot woman."

  Pleasure raced through her, chiseling away at the insecurities she'd harbored for as long as she could remember. His words also freed her to act on her desires and she slid her arms around his back, placing her palms against his buttocks.

  "How long are you going to make me wait?" she whispered in his ear, letting her tongue glide along the outer shell.

  He shivered and reciprocated with a nibble on her neck along with a teasing thrust of his hips. Their lower bodies met at exactly the right place. His erection ground into her feminine mound, setting off orgasmic-like tremors that were a mere prelude to the real thing.

  In case he needed incentive, Micki reached down and wrapped her hand around his member. He was smooth with subtle ridges, and oh so hard and long.

  "That's it" Damian had had enough. Enough teasing, enough foreplay, enough restraint. There was just so much a naked man could take.

  Pausing only to grab protection, he then rose above her and spread her thighs with his hands. She met his gaze, eyes wide and imploring, with a trust that was humbling. But he wanted this woman as he hadn't wanted any other and as long as she wanted him, too, he wasn't about to stop.

  Unable to wait another second, he nudged the head of his aching erection into her moist, warm sheath. She let out a sigh of longing at the same time he gritted his teeth and drove deep inside her. Her wet heat molded around him, cushioning him in a tight, suctioning hold. He thought he'd died and gone to heaven. He didn't know he could feel so good so fast, or so connected to another person.

  Before he could dwell on that thought, Micki distracted him by wrapping her legs around him and hooking her ankles at the small of his back. Her hips jutted upward, their bodies met at exactly the right spot and after that there was no going slow.

  He pulled out, then plunged fast and deep. Micki cried out but had no trouble keeping pace. Their rhythm was perfect, their bodies in unison. He pumped inside her and she met him thrust for thrust, her legs still wrapped around his waist. He couldn't resist kissing her again as they climbed higher and higher toward climax. She breathed harder in his ear, becoming more vocal with each successive bump and grind of their hips and bodies.

  He wouldn't have believed she was so loud and expressive. Damn, but he liked it. Seconds later, everything inside and outside of him exploded as he came. And came and came.

  He thrust in and out, drawing out every last incredible sensation and triggering Micki's release. She locked her ankles tighter around him, dug her nails into his back and lifted her hips high and hard.

  She called out his name and touched a place he hadn't known existed. For the first time, a woman touched his heart.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MICKI AWOKE ALONE in Damian's bed and remembered that Dr. Maddux was arriving this morning to evaluate Damian's wrist. She hoped he'd have good news because Damian loved the game too much to be forced out before he was ready.

  Since last night, Micki cared more about what Damian wanted than she probably should. Because of how he made her feel. Because of how she felt about him.

  The man was a fantastic lover and knew how to make her feel like she was the only woman in the world who mattered to him, in bed and out. For the time being, she didn't mind living in her own deluded world. So much so that she got out of bed smiling and singing out of tune while she headed for the shower.

  Half an hour later, she walked downstairs to the kitchen. Once there, she saw a note from Rosa telling them that she had left premade meals in the freezer.

  One sniff informed Micki that Damian hadn't made coffee yet, so she set up a pot and waited for him to emerge from the basement gym where he was meeting with the doctor. She made herself a quick egg-white omelet and after she'd eaten and cleaned up, she decided she could no longer avoid calling her sisters.

  She started with Annie since she wanted to check on her and the baby. She pulled out her cell phone, dialed and soon had her oldest sibling on the line.

  "Good morning, big sister. How are you?" Micki’s heart pounded in her chest as she waited for the reply.

  "Baby and I are doing fine "

  From the upbeat tone of Annabelle's voice, Micki believed her and she forced air back into her lungs. "You'd better follow doctor's orders and rest, no matter how hard it is for you to do nothing." While she spoke, Micki rummaged around for cleaning supplies and then wiped the countertops with Windex until they shone.

  "I wouldn't put my anal personality before my baby's health. Besides, Vaughn's around 24/7 to make sure I'm a good girl."

  "You're never good," Micki heard Vaughn joke in the background. "Say hi to your sister and reassure her I'm taking good care of you, babe," he said.

  Micki smiled. In the time since Annie had married Brandon Vaughn, he'd grown on all the sisters. He was the brother Micki had never had. After all the years Annie had spent being the caretaker for Micki and Sophie,Micki was grateful her sister had found someone to cater to her for a change. Though she envied Annie and Vaughn, she didn't begrudge her sister her happiness.

  Annabelle chatted about sonograms and bed rest, and Micki realized that while Annie had always been the caretaker, Micki had been taken care of. She wanted to be a caregiver, a mother one day. She hoped she'd eventually find a man, a partner who wanted to share her life and give her the traditional family unit she'd never had.

  Suddenly Micki glanced around Damian's kitchen where she'd made herself at home. And she forced herself to remember that Damian would not be that man.

  "So how's your forced trip to paradise?" Annie asked, her voice filled with concern.

  Micki felt a smile work its way onto her face. "Actually not as bad as I thought. Turns out that after partying too hard and the PR fiasco, I needed some R & R after all. And…" Micki prepared herself to admit more to her sister when the sound of male voices and footsteps reminded her that she wasn't alone.

  "Micki?" her sister asked.

  "And I decided to see what paradise has to offer." Paradise meaning Damian, she thought, just as he entered the room with the orthopedist by his side.

  Micki rushed her sister off the phone, promising to call back later. Heart pounding hard in her chest, she turned to meet Damian's gaze, not knowing what she’d find there.

  He caught her questioning stare with a smoldering one of his own, the heat in his dark eyes telling her he hadn't forgotten last night. And the sudden smile that lit up his face indicated he didn't regret it either. Her heart melted at the sight of him and the honesty she saw there.

  "Dr. Maddux, I'd like you to meet Micki Jordan, publicist extraordinaire. Micki, meet Dr. Maddux, bearer of bad news." Damian swept his hand through the air in a meaningless gesture yet the words he uttered were anything but.

  "Thanks for coming, Doc." Damian spared a glance at Micki. "I'm going to walk him to the car that's taking him back to the airport."

  She bit down on her lip and nodded. "I'll be here when you get back."

  Damian's words had been vague, but decidedly negative. The next few minutes felt like a lifetime, leaving her on edge, flexing and unflexing her fingertips and pacing the floors. Finally the front door slammed hard and Damian rejoined her in the kitchen.

  "What did he say?" she asked.

  "Who's asking? Micki the team publicist or-"

  "Micki your friend and I think you know that." She reminded herself that it was his pain causing him to question her loyalty.-

 
; He lowered his gaze. "I have tendinitis. Nothing some time off and immobility won't cure," he said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He raised his injured hand, pointing out the brace he'd been wearing.

  Since that seemed like positive news, Micki knew there had to be more. "And?"

  "And the numbness is probably a result of carpal tunnel syndrome. You know, repetitive motions such as throwing exacerbates it. After reviewing the X rays, the bone density and the MRI results, and after a physical examination, the good doc said he also sees strong evidence of arthritis, which weakens the bones and will begin to give me aggravation down the line. Not too far down the line because the wrist is pretty fragile. So are the rest of the bones." He grimaced. "Welcome to old age."

  She raised an eyebrow. Thirty-five wasn't ancient, but she'd heard it many times. Athletes counted age like dog years. "You aren't finished for the season are you?'

  He shook his head.

  "That's good. Though when you are, I know Uncle Yank has plenty of post-game work lined up for you. Or at least he's got some good ideas percolating."

  Damian stared in wonder at her. He'd had crappy news and this woman wasn't pitying him. She was looking on the bright side.

  "A good-looking guy like you, with all your sports knowledge, is pretty marketable, you know," she said in a deliberately smart-ass tone and patted his cheek with her hand.

  He grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. She'd just showered and her hair smelled fresh and clean and her body was warm and willing, just as she'd been last night. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in the curve of her neck, wishing he could bury his problems as easily and as pleasurably.

  He slid his fingers into the back pockets of her pants, cupping her rear and nestling his groin into the sweet V of her legs. “These jeans fit you like a glove."

  "Your sisters are all different sizes but luckily I have an average body type that fits most anything."