by Amy Noelle
He caressed my face. “Never. Not with anyone else.”
I didn’t need to ask what he meant because I felt the same way. We fit, perfectly. It had never been like this with Jason or anyone but the man who was with me now. I should hate him for that. But he began to move and all I could do was feel as his lips touched mine and our bodies moved together. Our rhythm matched, like we’d done this a thousand times since the last time, instead of all those empty years in between.
One hand was in his, and the other was tangled in his thick, dark hair. His hand was underneath me, squeezing my ass as we sped up our movements. I felt the pressure start to build inside me again and I clenched him with my thighs. He remembered, of course he did, and he reached between us and brushed his fingers against me, sending me reeling.
I called his name as I tightened around him, and he grunted and thrust against me, his motions more erratic. It would be soon, I knew. I held on tight as he pushed deep and let himself go, watching his handsome face in his moment of release. My traitorous heart continued to race as his eyes opened and he smiled down at me.
Countless memories of that satisfied smile took me back. Late nights and early mornings in bed at school. Sunny days as he jogged onto the field and found me sitting in my seat in the stands. Flashes of our history played through my mind like a movie until, inevitably, I saw him in the hallway in that hotel in Omaha. With Bailey . . . no. I needed to take control again. He’d gotten under my skin and now we’d had sex but that didn’t mean anything. It didn’t have to mean anything.
His smile changed to a smirk and he shook his head. “Don’t even try it.”
“What?” I asked. I should push him off me. It felt entirely too good to have him so close.
“You can’t take it back. There’s no going back from this. We’re both going to have to deal with it.”
Damn him for reading me so well. “I am dealing with it.” Or I will be, once you leave.
“Oh yeah? Well, deal with this. We’ve only just begun. And this time, I’m not letting you get away. Got it?” His eyes were dark and his voice was commanding, and it was hot. And annoying.
“You don’t control me.” Why was my voice so damn breathless? He was being an ass. I shouldn’t find it attractive.
He shifted and I moaned as he started to move inside me again. “Don’t I? And don’t you do the same to me?” His mouth was on mine and any response I might have had to that nonsense was lost as we started to move. I was a fool, but I couldn’t help myself. I was playing with fire again. Hopefully this time, the burn wouldn’t be so bad.
Chapter 12
Well, it happened. I couldn’t begin to deny it since he was still in my bed. His arms were locked around me as he slept, as if he was afraid I was going to disappear if he let go. His subconscious wasn’t all that wrong. My head was yelling at me to run even though my heart was telling me I was exactly where I belonged, where I had always belonged.
But where could we possibly go from here? Couldn’t we call this a lapse in judgment and go on as if nothing had happened? As if nothing had happened three times? We hadn’t even used the condom, so I had that to worry about as well. I was clean, but was he? Still, it was foolish, but I believed him when he told me he’d been celibate for months. Because of me. It wasn’t like I couldn’t relate. My libido went into the toilet every baseball season.
He mumbled something, and I smiled. Brad had always made nonsensical noises in his sleep. Even without his saying actual words I could always tell when he was having a good or bad dream. This was a good one, as his grip on me tightened and I felt evidence of his arousal against my thigh. I shivered. I shouldn’t want him again. He should be out of my system now, and we should go back to the reason I was here in the first place.
Although, what was that reason, really? Brad had got me here because he’d needed to see me again. And I came because . . . because I’d had to prove to myself I was over him. Yet here I was, under him. This was unacceptable. A week in his presence and I was the same stupid girl I’d been years ago.
No. No, I was not. I was different now and I knew better than to fall for him. Yes, he was sexy and wonderful in bed, and I’d succumbed, as countless had before me and countless would after me. There was nothing wrong with a brief tumble down memory lane with an ex-lover, so long as I didn’t let him have anything other than my body. It was just a little fun. He’d leave soon for Atlanta while I’d stay behind and work and get things back to normal.
“You know, I can practically hear you thinking,” he mumbled, his lips pressed against my shoulder. “Cut it out.”
“Sorry I’m not as good at shutting off my brain as you are.” Probably because he didn’t think with his brain. “Let me up.”
He squeezed me. “No.”
“I have things to do.” Like get away and clear my head.
“It’s not even light outside yet. The only thing you have to do is run away, and I’m not letting that happen again. So why don’t you just stop fighting it and get some sleep?”
As if sleep was on the menu? I couldn’t sleep with him next to me and all these thoughts running through my head. The fact that he could just made him all the more annoying.
“I’ll run if I want to run,” I said.
He just laughed, and I felt his lips move against my shoulder. “Try it. This time there won’t be anything to stop me from coming after you.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him what had stopped him before, but I already knew the answer. The beautiful blond Bailey. I needed to find out more, but I didn’t need to do it now, when I was naked in bed with him. I wasn’t even sure I could handle it when fully clothed and holding my professional shield.
He shifted and pulled me against his chest. In the dim light that spilled in from the hotel hallway, I could just make out the line of his jaw. “Is there anything to stop me?”
I could think of a billion things. The fact that I was working for him, technically. The fact that he was famous for being a player. The fact that I didn’t trust him. “What do you mean?”
“Is there anyone at home I need to worry about?”
Who did he think I was? Him? “Of course not. I don’t cheat.”
“Well, I don’t share.” His lips were hard and hot on mine, and I felt myself melting into him again. I was breathless when he broke our kiss and reached over to snap on the bedside lamp.
“What are you doing?” I’d thought we were going for round four and had to admit I was disappointed, even though my body was a bit achy from the previous three. It had been a long time for me, too.
“I want to see you.” The almost predatory way he looked at me was enough to make my heartbeat kick up again.
“You already saw me.”
He flashed his wicked grin and chuckled as he scooted up and pulled me into a sitting position, straddling him. “Yes, I did, and I enjoyed the view very much. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”
Nerves skittered down my spine. “What do you want, then?” I was almost afraid to ask. I was too mixed up in the head, too raw right now to have a conversation about us, now or then. I needed time and space and perspective first.
He laughed again and reached up to touch my cheek. “The look of panic on your face is priceless. What are you so afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of anything,” I lied, and he smirked and shook his head. I hated that he could still read me so easily.
“Bullshit. You’re afraid of me. But that’s okay, I kind of like it.”
I wanted to smack that all-knowing smile off his handsome face, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of rattling me. “You’re the last person I’d ever be afraid of.” Lies, lies, every word was a lie falling from my lips.
“We both know that’s not true.” He gripped my waist as I tried to move away from him. “I said I’m not letting you go, and I meant it, Dani. Save your energy for better things.” His slid his hand up my torso and brushed his fingers acros
s my already hardening nipple, and I moaned. “Yes, like that. Now, are you going to answer my question, or do I have to get tough?”
I didn’t know what getting tough entailed, but it worried and intrigued me. “I might answer, depending on the question.”
He grinned. “That’s better.”
I sighed and resisted the urge to kiss his arrogant face. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
I stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate.
“I want to know everything I’ve missed since the last time we talked. I want to know who’s been in your life since then. Who’s made you laugh, who’s made you cry. Who’s touched what was rightfully mine.”
It was possessive and insulting and inaccurate and maybe even degrading, but all I wanted to do was devour him. There were obviously a lot of things I needed to work out. I needed a good psychiatrist. There had to be a ton of them in Hollywood. I’d ask Pam for a recommendation.
“I’m not yours.”
He moved his hand down between us and smirked. “Your body begs to differ.”
“You’re an arrogant prick and I hate you.” Just don’t stop touching me. But he did. He put his hands behind his head, and all his gorgeous muscles bunched and tempted me to touch and taste.
“I won’t deny the first, but you don’t hate me. You never could.”
No, and that was the problem, and why I found myself here in bed with him instead of thousands of miles away where I belonged.
“I’m willing to give it a try,” I snapped as I climbed off him. But before I could get out of the bed, he had me pinned underneath him and his lips were there and I was kissing him. Infuriating man. When I finally came to my senses again, I bit his lip.
He laughed as he pulled away. “Like it rough, Red? I can happily oblige.” Then he thrust against me and I felt my eyes crossing and my legs opening. “Ah, ah, ah, not so fast.”
Damn it, I wanted fast. I wanted hard and fast and now. “Why not?” Was I whining?
The arrogant expression left his face, and for a moment I could have sworn I saw my sweet Brad again, before the smirk appeared. Must have been my imagination. “I want you to answer my question first. Quid pro quo. You’ve gotten to hear all about my past—shouldn’t I get to know about yours?”
My story was hardly anything to write about, unlike his. “That’s work. This is . . .”
“Pleasure.” He rolled his hips again and I moaned when he hit my clit. “And I’ll give it to you, just as soon as I know.” He pushed a strand of hair out of my face. “I need to know.”
“There’s not much to tell, at least not comparatively.”
His mouth tightened. “I saw pictures.”
“Pictures of what?”
“You, at some fancy dinner with some guy who looked like he was born to wear a suit.”
I narrowed my eyes. “When did you see pictures of me? How?”
“I looked you up,” he said, his voice soft, his eyes searching mine. “You may not think you’re famous, but there’s stuff about you out there on the Internet. Who was he?”
I never really talked publicly about my private life, so there couldn’t have been much. “Jason Derringer.” I wasn’t sure why, but I almost felt guilty about it. “He was my fiancé.”
Some emotion flashed in his eyes and he grabbed my shoulders. “You were engaged?”
It wasn’t anger in his voice. If it had been, I could have yelled at him and kicked him out of my room. But he wasn’t mad. He looked like he’d been stabbed in the heart, and I swallowed a large lump in my throat.
“Yes, briefly.”
He closed his eyes, and I felt compelled to touch him, so I wrapped my arms around him and he buried his head in my neck. I ran my fingers through his hair, the way I used to when he’d had a bad day, and scratched his scalp lightly.
“Did you love him?” he asked, his breath hot on my earlobe.
I opened my mouth to say yes, but that’s not what came tumbling out. “No.”
Brad lifted his head, his face just a couple of inches from mine, and stared down at me.
“You were engaged to him but you didn’t love him?” There was something new in his expression now, but I couldn’t read it. He’d always had a better poker face than I did.
“He was everything I thought I wanted.” Everything Brad wasn’t. Stable, trustworthy, predictable. Boring. “He was a corporate lawyer. We met at a publisher’s function and started dating. When he asked me to marry him, it seemed like the logical next step.”
“Sounds boring.” I nearly laughed that his thoughts aligned so well with my own. “Why did you say yes if you didn’t love him?”
And now we were on messy ground. “We seemed well suited, we both wanted the same things. I was twenty-six, the timing felt right. I thought we could have a good life together.”
“So why did it end?” he asked. It was unnerving the way he was looking at me.
The words “he wasn’t you” were on the tip of my tongue, but there was no way in hell I was going to say them aloud. I only admitted that to myself on the darkest of days, when something took me back to the way it used to be for us.
“We grew apart. We were both busy, our lives weren’t really meshing, and it just seemed easier to end it before it became a lot more painful.” It was exactly the same line of bull I’d fed Bec when we’d discussed my failed engagement, and from the way Brad was smiling, I had a feeling he didn’t buy it any more than she had. Whatever.
“Okay, so you dated this Jason character, and of course, Greg Slater. Anyone else?”
“Wait.” I pushed him off me and sat up. “Where in the hell did you get the idea that I dated Greg?” Greg was a former teammate of Brad’s and a friend to both of us. I’d never gone out with him or even considered it.
“Tony saw you two getting all cozy at the diner after Halloween.” The edge was back in his voice, and he huffed when I shook my head.
“Tony who? Your teammate? Why was Tony talking about me at all?”
Brad shrugged a shoulder. “He told me what he saw.”
I remembered that night. Greg had seen me working away in the library, like I did every night senior year. He’d convinced me to get a bite to eat because I’d lost weight since the breakup. We’d spent the entire evening talking about Brad, and about Greg’s girlfriend, Angie, who’d been going to school in Georgia. He’d guessed that I missed Brad and was struggling with the long-distance relationship, but he hadn’t known we’d broken up until that night. Nobody had. I hadn’t discussed him with anyone.
“He couldn’t have seen much, since nothing happened.”
Brad’s glare could have melted the polar ice caps. “He saw you in Greg’s arms. Are you going to deny it?”
“No, I’m not going to deny that Greg hugged me because I was upset, but that’s all there was.”
“Well, that’s not what I heard.”
I slammed a fist down onto the bed. “Are you going to believe some idiot ex-teammate of yours, or me? Greg didn’t know we’d broken up. When I told him, I got upset and he gave me a hug. He was just being a friend, something you clearly don’t know how to be!”
Brad crossed his arms and looked down.
“What were you doing?” I asked. “Having your minions spy on me? That’s fucked up!”
“I asked Tony to look out for you! I needed to know you were okay, that someone would be there since you obviously didn’t want me.”
I had wanted him. So badly it hurt. “Well, your spy got it wrong.” It pained me to admit it, but I felt obliged to tell him just how wrong he was. “I didn’t date anybody for the entire year. I studied, I went to class, and I spent the weekends alone. Is that what you were hoping to hear? While you were whoring up Albuquerque, I was living like a nun in Tallahassee. Satisfied now?”
“No.” Brad reached for me but I pulled away and he ran an agitated hand through his hair. “I wasn’t. Not until . . . Tony. Damn it.”<
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My jaw dropped, slowly. “Hearing about me and Greg made you go home with that Mary girl.”
Brad winced and nodded. “Someone told you about that?”
“Yes. And a slut was born,” I muttered.
He sighed. “Up until then, I thought maybe we still had a chance. When I knew we didn’t, I—”
“You don’t have to elaborate. I’ve heard the stories.” And now I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry.
Brad reached for me, and this time I let him take me into his arms. I didn’t have the anger to fuel me anymore. I just felt sad. If Tony hadn’t misunderstood, maybe things would have been different. I’d missed him so much then. I could have forgiven him for Bailey, maybe, with a little time and a good explanation. Maybe no explanation at all. I’d been a mess by the time Christmas rolled around. I’d nearly broken down and called him, but my pride had kept me from doing it.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
I wasn’t sure which thing he was apologizing for—listening to Tony, sleeping with Mary, or becoming a manwhore—so I just nodded.
“You’re exhausted, aren’t you, baby?” he asked, running his fingers through my tangled hair.
“Yes.” It was all too much. The sex, the history, the emotions. I wanted to sleep the next few days away, find my strength again.
“Just close your eyes and go to sleep. I’ve got you now.”
He did have me, and it felt good to press my cheek to his chest and feel his arms so tight and strong around me. I did as he said and closed my eyes, relaxing into him, breathing in his clean, soapy scent that I loved so much.
I felt his lips brush against my forehead as I drifted off and could have sworn I heard him say, “I’m never letting go again.”
Chapter 13
It felt like I’d only been asleep for a minute when Brad’s voice crooned in my ear. “Baby, I’ve got to get up.”