He tapped his pocket. “Nope.”
Merrit leaned against the porch railing, wishing she possessed her sister’s innate ability to act cool around men. Addison had perfected flirting to an art form, and Merrit was light-years behind her in ability and confidence. She wasn’t that practiced in seducing a man, either. Obviously, her plan wasn’t as well thought out as she believed.
“I wasn’t sure you meant what you said earlier,” he said, his gaze still trained out on the darkened street. “I’ve actually been sitting here thinking you’d probably skipped town with your brother and I’d have to chase you to Chicago. Again.”
Merrit bobbled slightly on her high heels, refusing to acknowledge the twinge of embarrassment she felt about skipping out of South Bend, and then Chicago, a decade ago. “I’m pretty sure the neighborhood watch still has a picture of you on their most-wanted list.”
She’d already left for Paris with her mother by the time Heath had been caught scaling the gate outside her parents’ home. According to her father, he’d given no explanation for his actions to the police, but no charges were ever filed. Apparently, her parents had no trouble believing it was all a mix-up. After all, why would a big-time college athlete be looking for the boring Callahan?
“Hmm,” he said before taking a pull of his beer.
Just watching the muscles contracting in his throat was making Merrit hot and bothered. She was a fool for even getting this close to him; an idiot for thinking she’d have the upper hand in any encounter between them. Or that she could walk away unscathed. Retreat was always her default option because the alternative was scary. And messy. It would be easier to just lock herself inside her condo as quickly as she could.
She sighed into the dark night, deciding to heft the white flag. “Look, Heath. Why don’t you just say what it is you think is so important for you to say and then go.”
“Invite me inside, Merrit.”
The heat in his demand coursed through her body, making her ache at her core.
“I’ve changed my mind,” she whispered. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
He was up on his feet in one fluid move, mere inches now separating their bodies. She could feel the tension radiating off him, pinning her to the wooden post. He traced a finger—still damp from where he’d held the beer bottle—along her jaw. Merrit swallowed a moan.
“Changed your mind about what, Merry?” His breath licked at her skin, making her body quiver. “About hearing me out? Or about something else?”
Damn him! The arrogant jerk knew how aroused she was by him and he wasn’t above using it to his advantage. But he wasn’t unaffected either; she could hear it in his ragged breathing and see it in the way his eyes darted to her lips. Fine. Her flagging confidence was now re-energized. She’d stick to her plan of using Heath like he’d used her all those years ago. Tonight, she’d take what she wanted and then she’d head back to Chicago, never having to lay eyes on Heath Gibson again. And while she was at it, she’d prove to herself she wasn’t the cold, dispassionate woman in the bedroom that Grant had accused her of being.
Merrit pushed past him and jabbed the key in the lock. It took her two attempts, but the door finally opened. When it did, Heath released a deep sigh at her back, one that traveled like seismic waves throughout her body. The room was dark but for a small lamp barely illuminating the hallway. She didn’t bother to look behind to see if he was following as she headed for the bedroom.
“Merrit.” Her name came out of his mouth as a guttural growl, and every part of her was aching now. “Stop. We have to talk.”
She halted at the threshold of her bedroom, but she didn’t dare turn to face him. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. Talking would ruin everything. Hearing his excuses would kill the mood. And Merrit needed to do this. Tonight. The sound of the beer bottle being placed on the granite counter top alerted her that Heath was moving in her direction. She stepped out of her shoes, padding on bare feet into the bedroom, and switched on the bedside lamp.
“Jesus, Merrit,” Heath said as he followed her into the room. “Slow down a minute.”
Said no man, ever.
Clearly, she needed a lot more practice in the art of seduction. But Merrit didn’t want to stop; she didn’t know how. With her back still to him, she lowered the zipper on her dress, allowing the soft fabric to slide down her body and pool at her feet. Heath groaned behind her and she heard him sit with some force on the bed. “What’s gotten into you? This isn’t the Merrit I know.”
She whirled around to face him, hands on her hips. “You don’t know me anymore, Heath! Maybe I’ve changed in the last ten years. I’m not that gullible, innocent girl I once was.”
Heath wore an incredulous look on his face, his eyes trained on the dark blue convertible bra and the lacy panties she wore. She watched as he tried to rein in his wits. He gave his head a little shake before speaking. “We’re not doing anything until we talk first.”
“I don’t want to hear what you have to say. That’s not what I invited you here for tonight. You’re way overdressed for what I intend. Now strip.” She was as amazed at the demand coming out of her mouth as he apparently was. His gaze slowly traveled from the region of her navel to her face. Heat blazed in his eyes, along with something else. Something that made her feel a little queasy.
“This is you avoiding again, Merrit,” he said, softly. But the force of his words felt like a weight on her chest. Suddenly she was cold in the sultry June heat. That he could accuse her after everything he’d done in the past stung deeply. She’d made a terrible misstep in thinking she could keep him from hurting her again. A small sob escaped her as she tried to figure out how to extricate herself from the situation.
“Aw, hell!” Heath’s words reached her just as his body did, his strong arms enveloping hers as his mouth descended for a kiss. He kissed her as if he possessed her, and the realization of that thought was not lost on Merrit. The taste of hops and mint mingled with the salt of her tears as embarrassment, anger, and panic warred within her. She was embarrassed by her behavior and angry at Heath. But she was more panicked over the raw need overtaking her as his flesh collided with her own. She struggled only briefly, her movements bringing her into contact with the solid proof that Heath wasn’t in the mood for talking any more than she was. It was all the encouragement she needed.
Merrit’s hands had found their way into the waistband of his shorts. Heath thought he’d explode for sure if she touched him. Sex right now would probably complicate the conversation they needed to have, but who was he to argue with her? Besides, her little bossy-pants routine was the biggest turn-on he’d ever had. In an effort to slow them both down, he let his lips cruise her jawline while he extracted her dangerous hands from between their bodies.
“Uh, uh,” he breathed into her ear. “There’s no hurry. We’ve got all night.”
She let out a miffed little sigh that went straight to his groin. “No talking,” she commanded, nipping at his collarbone through his shirt as her hands fisted in his hair.
Heath smiled against her skin, breathing in her familiar almond scent. He’d been her first lover, and she’d never disappointed, nor had she shied away from asking for what she wanted. But tonight she was a whirling dervish of pent-up frustration, making Heath wonder about her ex-fiancé.
He eased a hand down her spine, pressing her body into his agonizingly hard one. A moan escaped her lips as Heath slid his fingers into the triangle of lace that was supposed to pass for panties. She dragged his mouth back to hers for a hot, steamy kiss and it took him a moment to wrestle back control.
“Easy,” he commanded to her as much as to himself. She responded with another agitated huff. Heath eased her back onto the bed as he toed off his sneakers. Her eyes were still damp and her hair had tumbled from its pins. She looked like a hot mess with her dark bra and panties contrasting with
her pearlescent skin.
“Take off your clothes, Heath,” she whispered. “Please.”
One look into her misty blue eyes and he was a goner. He reached a hand behind his neck to tug off his T-shirt at the same time as he pulled his wallet from his shorts and tossed it onto the nightstand. Her kiss-swollen lips curved into an appreciative smile as he shoved his shorts and underwear over his hips and down to the floor. He crawled onto the bed over her and his whole package tightened excruciatingly at the sound of another of her breathy moans. Balancing his weight on his forearms, he heaved a sigh as his skin came in contact with her erotic panties.
“Is this what you wanted, Merry?” he whispered beside her ear before taking the tender lobe between his teeth.
“Hmm,” she sighed, arching her pelvis into his. Her fingers traveled over his biceps to grip his shoulders. “It’s a good start, but I seem to remember there being more.”
“More what?” he teased. He brushed his thumb over her lacy bra, relishing the feel of her nipple puckering further.
“More kissing,” she breathed, reaching for his hair to pull his mouth to hers. But Heath dodged her hands, sliding down her body instead.
“More kissing here?” He untangled the convoluted straps of her bra, baring her breasts to his mouth, and tongued a nipple.
“Yes,” she sighed.
He might have laughed, but he was beginning to get just as agitated as she was. She let out a little mewl as he redirected his attention to her other breast.
“Heath,” she pleaded, but he wasn’t done reacquainting himself with her body just yet. He kissed his way to her navel, snagging his fingers in her panties as he moved lower. Pulling the panties over her hips, he trailed his lips along the inside of her thighs and the backs of her knees before drawing the piece of silk and lace over her ankles and tossing it to the floor.
“Heath, I want you to kiss me.” She made another fruitless grab for his biceps.
He hooked one of her knees over his shoulder and she rose up on her elbows, her face flushed and her eyes frantic. Heath quirked an eyebrow at her. “I am going to kiss you, beautiful.”
She let loose another breathy sigh and Heath almost laughed at her frustration. “This used to be your favorite part,” he said. “Or should I skip it?” He had no intention of skipping any part of tonight. In fact, he intended to practice each play until they’d perfected it. But Merrit was getting that squinty look again, which meant she was thinking too damn much. He knew one way to stop that. As Heath put his mouth to her, she collapsed onto the mattress, her fingers clutching the bedspread. Minutes later she was screaming his name and memories of nights spent making love to her in his South Bend apartment flooded his mind. This was what he wanted. She was who he wanted.
Heath ripped open the foil package of the condom and rolled it on before making his way back up her body. She was breathless and wide-eyed as he settled himself between her legs. Her face was stained a delicate pink and her heart was racing—or possibly it was his—as his skin met hers. “Is this what you want, beautiful?” he asked as he nuzzled her neck.
“God, yes,” she said, wrapping a foot over his calf to pin him to her.
“Tell me what else you want, Merrit.” He stroked a hand over her flat abdomen, moving lower toward the Promised Land.
“You are all I ever . . .” She stopped midsentence, her pliant body going stiff beneath him. Heath rose up on his elbows to stare into her face. Her eyes had refocused a bit and her lips were set in a firm line as if she were struggling to lock the rest of her statement inside. Heath was desperate to know what she’d intended to say. He rocked his hips against her sensitive core to get her attention, but that only caused her eyes to roll back in her head.
“What else do you want, Merrit?” he demanded. Heath knew what he wanted. All of her.
“I told you,” she moaned. “I want you to kiss me.” She wrapped her fingers around his skull and pulled him in for a deep, searing kiss, one that nearly wrecked him, damn near splitting him two. His hands found hers and their fingers laced together as he finally thrust into her heat. She breathed his name like a prayer and Heath was once again where he belonged. He dropped his head next to hers, his mouth finding that sweet spot where her neck met her shoulder, and he began to move. And she moved with him, matching his pace. And it was good. Better than good. It was perfect.
He whispered lusty words of encouragement to her while her hands white-knuckled his ass. His mouth melded with hers and they climbed to a frenzied pitch. Heath couldn’t wait to reach the end, yet he wanted to be inside this woman forever. He stretched up on his elbows, dragging his fingers through her hair as she cried out his name again. Heath watched, transfixed, as she shattered beneath him, her face awash with bliss. Then, with a rock of his hips, Merrit’s body squeezed tightly around him, bringing him to his own powerful release.
Four
“You had the tattoo removed,” Heath said, his finger lightly tracing the bare skin where her shamrock had once been. Merrit thought she heard a hint of sorrow in his voice, but she refused to feel guilty. The tattoo had been a part of his ruse, a way to score points in an elaborate contest among his teammates to see how far he could get with her. It hadn’t been hard for him to convince her to agree to get his-and-her ink. She’d been a naïve, starry-eyed freshman, spellbound into believing that a gorgeous athlete like Heath Gibson would be interested in the boring Callahan. Merrit stupidly believed the matching tats represented a permanent bond between the two of them, one that would last a lifetime.
Until she’d found the list and realized what a patsy she’d been.
She rolled over on top of his hard body, slick from the exertion of their lovemaking, and nibbled at the side of his mouth. “I told you, no talking.”
Laughter rumbled in his chest as he threaded his fingers through her hair. “Tell me about him.”
“Who?” she asked, tracing the column of his neck with her lips.
“The fiancé who obviously didn’t keep you satisfied.”
Merrit smiled against the smooth skin of his pectoral muscles. For weeks, she’d believed she’d been the one to let Grant down—in and out of the bedroom. Not the other way around. But one night—heck, a half hour—in bed with Heath had disproven that theory. She was a passionate woman; Grant had just been ineffective in rousing those passions. Kylee could have him. Merrit felt lighthearted and liberated that Heath recognized the situation for what it had been.
She laid her hands on his chest, propping her chin on top of them. “Who says I’m satisfied now?”
Heath’s lips curved into a smug grin as his finger traced over the telltale flush on her skin. “You’re beautiful when you’re hot and bothered.”
Her skin grew warmer and Merrit bit her lower lip to keep a sigh from escaping.
“My fiancé was too busy satisfying his assistant,” she said, her belly tightening with embarrassment. It wasn’t as if she was sharing a secret with Heath. She’d vowed never to do that again. But the details of Grant’s speedy marriage were available online with the click of a button and there was no sense in hiding it.
His eyes narrowed and his fingers stilled in her hair. “That couldn’t have made him too popular in your father’s agency.”
Heath’s implication that Grant was only marrying her to move up in the firm stung, despite the fact that it was the truth. How had Heath picked up on that when everyone else around her had missed it?
“I’m surprised your brother hasn’t severed one of his limbs yet.”
Merrit smiled, thinking about which limb she’d like Blake to lop off. “I’m pretty sure Blake believes unplanned fatherhood was punishment enough for Grant.”
This time, Heath’s entire body tensed beneath her. He muttered an obscenity and something about killing Grant himself as he tried to pull her down to capture her mouth. But Merrit shook her
head; she didn’t want a kiss born out of pity.
“What about you?” she asked, redirecting the conversation away from her. “What ended your marriage?”
His hands found their way to her spine where they gently traced a path to her hips. “Nothing as ugly,” he said, his eyes taking in the shadows on the ceiling. “We both just wanted different things out of a marriage and the relationship between us wasn’t strong enough to overcome those differences.”
“Like what kind of differences?” she heard herself asking even as her brain was reminding the rest of her not to care.
“I wanted the whole package: a house, kids, maybe a dog. And she . . . didn’t. She enjoyed life as a celebrity and didn’t want to give that up.”
Her chest seized at the idea of Heath having children with another woman. Funny, she hadn’t felt that way when she found out Kylee was pregnant with Grant’s child, and the idea crossed her mind that she was perhaps a bit of a hypocrite. Or foolish.
“I thought we weren’t talking,” he murmured as his wicked finger stroked the seam between her thighs.
Merrit gasped and her insides turned molten. She wondered how she could feel so satisfied and still want him again so powerfully. He smiled in triumph when, without conscious thought, her legs opened wider. Shifting down farther onto his hand, she flicked her tongue over his nipple.
“That’s it,” Heath said, flipping her over onto her back. “You’ve obviously been neglected way too long. Let me show you how a real man takes care of his woman.”
She wasn’t his woman anymore and she’d never be again. But she wasn’t so foolish that she wouldn’t enjoy what he was offering. Besides, for all she knew she’d be experiencing a sexual drought after tonight. And Heath definitely knew how to take care of a woman.
He took his time, tantalizing her body with his mouth and his hands, making her skin heat with desire everywhere he touched. Her insides ached and her hips refused to stay still beneath his heavy, hot weight. Their bodies slid against one another, creating a friction that Merrit was sure would ignite the room at any point. All the while, Heath whispered his very own play-by-play, telling her exactly what he was going to do to her and then doing it with marvelous precision. The intimacy and the eroticism of their lovemaking made Merrit’s pulse pound wildly, as she strained to meet his every move. Her hands struggled to find purchase on the slick planes of his muscled body, finally fisting in his thick hair as she nipped at his shoulder in exasperation. Giving in, she allowed Heath to take her over the edge again. And then again for good measure. When his mouth found hers, she melted into him, squeezing him tightly until he came in a rush, growling her name.
A Numbers Game Page 3