by Regina Hart
Andrea’s skin tingled where his fingers touched her. “It’s strange that it took both of us losing our jobs before we let down our guards.”
“Have we let down our guards?”
His voice was as mesmerizing as a magician’s spell. It wrapped around her until all she saw was him. Desire glowed like burning coals in his dark gaze and tightened his chiseled features. The heat mirrored the urgency stirring inside her.
Andrea’s heart beat hard against her chest. “I’m afraid to lose control.”
“Then take control instead.” He came closer, offering himself to her.
Andrea’s eyes widened with understanding—and excitement. She scanned his body, from his model good looks to his athlete’s build—broad shoulders, slim waist, taut hips, and long legs. He was putting all of that under her control? She closed her eyes briefly as images overwhelmed her.
She stepped forward. Standing on her toes, Andrea raised her hand to cup the back of his head. She brought him closer and whispered against his mouth, “I accept your offer.”
Their lips touched and a shiver moved through her body, from head to toe. She was light-headed, lost in the taste and texture of him, like a fine liqueur. Strong. Full. Addicting. She touched the tip of her tongue to his lips. He opened his mouth, giving her more of himself. She slipped inside and swept the moist cavern, seeking more of his flavor.
Troy groaned deep in his throat. Andrea answered his call, rising higher on her toes to press against him. Her fingertips pressed into the corded muscles of his shoulders beneath his jersey. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close. His hard body against her. His taste on her tongue. His scent, citrus and cinnamon, in her head. Andrea’s nipples tightened with need.
She broke the kiss. “Your bedroom.”
She sought his gaze. His eyes were even darker than before. His cheeks were flushed. She was the one managing the pace, where they were going and how they would get there. But an urgency was directing her, and she was eager to answer it.
Troy swung her into his arms. “You’re still in control. It’s just quicker this way.”
He crossed his living room and strode down a hallway. He stopped at the first room on his left and pushed the door open with his foot.
Andrea pressed her hand against his chest. His heart was strong, swift, and steady beneath her palm. “Do you have protection?” This sense of urgency wasn’t going to push her into being stupid.
“In the nightstand.”
Her thigh stroked against his erection as her feet touched the floor. Her skin burned through the soft material of her brown pants. All that power under her control. Her stomach muscles clenched in anticipation. She’d been denying her attraction to the Monarchs’ marketing czar for some time. She’d feared a relationship with him could have spelled professional as well as personal disaster. But tonight, with his invitation, her want had overcome her fear, and she would realize a fantasy she hadn’t even known she’d harbored.
“I’m in control?” Even whispering the words made her feel strong, powerful—feelings she’d never had before.
“Yes.” His sexy lips curved just a bit. His heated gaze was a challenge and an invitation.
Andrea swallowed a groan. She stepped closer until she could feel his warmth, breathe his scent. She slipped her hands beneath his jersey. It rose as she stroked over his abdomen. His muscles were tight and flat. They quivered under her touch. Andrea kept her eyes on his, eager to see his reaction to her touch. His smile faded. His eyes burned her.
She traced the line of hair from his navel. She spread her palms on his chest hair that fanned over his pectorals. Abruptly, Troy pulled the jersey over his head, exposing his sculpted torso. Andrea’s mouth went dry. While his arms were tangled in his clothes, she stepped forward to trace his right nipple with her tongue. Troy jerked. She smiled against his chest.
Troy tossed his jersey across the room. “Sneak attacks? I’d have thought that was beneath you.” His grin removed any hint of chastisement.
She turned him so she could walk him backward to his bed. “That’s where I want you.”
“I can’t think of a better place to be with you.” His voice was a rough caress.
Troy toed off his loafers and shed his khaki pants. As she removed her clothing, Andrea studied his form-fitting white briefs. She wanted to pull them off with her teeth. She walked to him, wearing only her bra and underwear, and pressed his shoulders to encourage him onto the bed.
Andrea straddled his thighs, following him onto the mattress as he shifted to lie across its width. The look in his eyes made her feel sexy, attractive, and powerful. In this moment, she believed she was all those things.
She moved in, lowering her head to inhale his scent again. Her body dampened with arousal. She felt Troy brush her hair behind her shoulder. Andrea turned her head to kiss him. She caressed his mouth, nibbling it and sucking on his lower lip. Troy tunneled his fingers into her hair, holding her steady to deepen their contact. She felt his other hand moving toward her bra.
Andrea rose away. “Uh-uh. I’m in control.” Her smile spread as she reached back to stroke his erection. He was hot and hard. “And I’m really going to enjoy this.”
Troy lowered his arms. “Just promise you’ll respect me in the morning.”
She leaned forward again to kiss him hard. “I promise.”
She worked her way back down, drawing her fingertips through the fine hair covering his muscled chest. She followed the trail as the hair narrowed down his abdomen and disappeared beneath the waistband of his sinfully sexy briefs. Andrea scattered kisses across his torso, licking his taut, hot skin, until she once again arrived at his underwear.
Her gaze rose over his torso, pausing at his rapidly rising and falling chest. Andrea met his heated eyes. Holding his attention, she tucked her fingertips under his waistband and peeled away his last remaining article of clothing. His body was stiff with need. She was the cause of that. Her own body was almost drenched with desire.
She climbed back onto the bed, once again straddling Troy. Andrea hovered above his arousal to stroke his length with her tongue. She heard his groan, watched his body move. For so long, she’d been attracted to and admired his self-assurance. Only a very confident man would give control over completely to a woman to ensure her pleasure. Andrea’s excitement built to a breaking point.
She moved farther up his body. “Can I look inside your nightstand?”
Troy exhaled with relief. “Yes.” He nodded toward the nightstand behind her, then watched her stretch to reach the top drawer.
His eyes followed the slender line of her toned body. Even during his inappropriate fantasies, Troy had never considered that, beneath her conservative clothes, the tenacious reporter wore lace demi-cup bras and bikini underwear. Her breasts would perfectly fill his hands. His palms itched to cup her rounded derriere. His mouth went dry imaging the taste and feel of her naked skin.
She turned back to him, tearing the condom packet open with her teeth. Troy peeled his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Do you need help?”
Andrea shook her head. Her hair danced around her narrow shoulders, bare but for the thin, dark blue bra straps. She wiggled past his hips to his thighs. He felt her lips on his arousal again before she applied the condom. He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on breathing while her touch, soft and quick, rolled the condom over him.
He opened his eyes as she stood away from the bed to remove her underwear. His heart was pounding in his chest. His blood was rushing through his veins.
Troy found Andrea’s hungry gaze. “I’m going to touch you now.”
“Please.” She came to him, placing her slender arms on either side of his face.
Troy lifted his head slightly and suckled her nipples into his mouth. She was so sweet. Andrea groaned and pressed her hips against his waist. Her hair swung forward, brushing against his face. He smelled her shampoo. Troy released her left breast to take her right nipple into
his mouth.
He slid his hands down her back from her shoulder to her hips. Her skin was as smooth and soft as silk beneath his touch. He cupped her bottom with his left hand and shifted his right hand between their bodies. She was damp against his palm. Troy slipped his index finger into her. Andrea made a sound between a scream and a groan. She tightened around his finger. Her body moved faster. Her arms trembled.
Troy released her breast and whispered in her ear. “Sit up, honey. Sit up and take me inside you. You’re in control.”
Andrea rose and Troy positioned himself so she could have him. He clenched his teeth as she lowered to him slowly. Andrea moaned as she took more and more of him. Troy tightened his hold on her thighs, lifting himself to meet her. He struggled not to come as he watched Andrea seated on him. Her slender body arched, her nipples puckered, and her breasts bounced with their movements. This image was light-years from the tightly controlled reporter. He slid his hands up to touch her breasts. He stroked them, caressed them, rubbed his palms over her nipples. Andrea pressed his hands against her as she moved with him.
Troy freed his hands and drew them back down her body. Touching her waist, dipping into her navel, cupping her hips, and making his way to the juncture of her thighs. He watched Andrea for her reaction. Her eyes were closed. She caught her lower lip with her teeth. He touched her with his thumb. She gasped. Her body bowed. She pressed herself harder against his caress. Troy deepened his touch as he picked up his rhythm between her legs. He raised his left hand to knead her breast, rolling and pinching first her right nipple, then her left. Andrea’s gasps became pants. Her body tightened around him. Her muscles squeezed him harder and harder. As she screamed her climax, her body trembled against him, pulling him with her. She collapsed onto him. Troy held her tight as his own body shuddered with his release.
Andrea stilled in his arms. Why had it been so easy to put himself under someone else’s control? Or rather, why had it been so easy to give up control to Andrea?
“Oh, my word.” Andrea stared blindly at the ceiling of Troy’s bedroom. Her pulse had slowed and she’d finally caught her breath.
“Ditto.” His voice was muffled against his pillow.
Andrea chuckled. “Actually, it would take several words, and yet I find myself speechless.” She was feeling pretty smug, too.
Troy rolled onto his side to face her. “Me too.”
“You need confidence to allow someone to have that much control over you.” It had been incredible to be in control of such a large, well-made man. Her body was still pleasantly buzzing. And tomorrow, she wouldn’t have a hangover.
“You’re welcome.” Troy’s expression was uncertain. “I think.”
Andrea rolled her head on the pillow to look at him. “Your self-confidence is the first thing that attracted me to you. You always know what to do and how to do it.”
His expression clouded. “Except when it comes to Gerry.”
She winced in empathy. “You have to work on your impulse control.”
“So I’ve been told.” Troy rolled onto his back.
Andrea felt his regret in her gut. She didn’t want to lose the afterglow of their intimacy, but she had to know who’d first warned him about his recklessness. It was more than curiosity. She wanted to know everything about Troy Marshall. She needed to know.
“What’s your story, Troy? What event in your past do you most regret?”
“Getting married.”
If Mindy hadn’t told her Troy had an ex-wife, Andrea would have tumbled off the bed and fallen to the floor. Still, she was startled by his certainty that his marriage was his greatest regret. “What happened?”
Troy sat up, allowing the bedsheets to settle low on his hips. “She was a liar.”
Andrea dragged her eyes away from his six-pack abs and sculpted pecs. She pushed herself to sit beside him, tucking the sheets under her arms to keep her breasts covered. “What did she lie about?”
Troy glared at the wall across the room. “Being pregnant.”
Andrea’s thoughts disappeared, like a blackboard being erased. “Your wife told you she was pregnant when she wasn’t?”
“No. My girlfriend told me she was pregnant so I’d marry her.” Troy looked at Andrea. “I was a sophomore at Georgetown on a full basketball scholarship. I wanted to graduate. She wanted me to enter the NBA draft.”
“She pretended to be pregnant so you’d marry her and quit school?” Andrea was outraged.
“Except I married her and stayed in school.” Troy tossed off the sheets and climbed out of bed. He wandered naked across the room. His movements were restless, as though the emotions from the past had come back to him.
The sight of his firm gluts and long, muscled thighs distracted Andrea for several heartbeats. “So you left Georgetown with a degree and a divorce.”
“Not what I had in mind. My parents, either. The worst part is that I suspected she was lying.”
Andrea blinked. “How?”
“She was on the pill. She said she’d missed a couple of days when she was cramming for her finals. When I questioned her, she made me feel guilty for not believing her. So I introduced her to my family.” The slump of his shoulders told the rest of Troy’s story.
“Your parents were disappointed.”
“Very.” He turned toward her, oblivious to his nudity. “It turned out to be a no-win situation. They were disappointed when we thought she was pregnant. They were disappointed again when we found out she’d lied.”
Andrea stood, pulling the sheet off the bed and wrapping it around her. She went to Troy and laid a hand on his shoulder. His muscles were tight. “Your parents should have been proud of you for accepting responsibility.”
“Instead, my girlfriend caused a rift in our relationship that took years to fix. She also ended my basketball career.”
Andrea frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I thought I was going to be a father, so I quit the team and got a job. By the time she told me she’d lied about the pregnancy, I’d lost my spot on the team.”
Andrea lowered her arm. “I’m so sorry, Troy. You must have been devastated.”
“So were my parents.” Troy crossed his arms over his chest. “My ex-wife went on to marry one of my teammates. He left early for the draft.”
His bitterness was still fresh. She could hear it.
“Now I understand why it’s difficult for you to trust people.”
Troy looked at her. “What?”
“It’s been fifteen years. You’ve repaired your relationship with your parents. You have a successful career with a well-respected organization. But you can’t let go of your anger toward your ex-wife.”
He scowled. “No, I can’t.”
She pulled the sheet tighter around her. “Are you still in love with her?”
“God, no.” His tone more than his words helped her breathe again.
She considered his stiff stance and furrowed brow. “Then why can’t you let go of the past?”
“I have.” Troy passed her to enter his large, adjoining bathroom. The muscles in his back, butt, and legs flexed and relaxed with each stride.
Andrea shivered, still clutching the bedsheet. He may think he’d let go of his past, but he hadn’t. Her eyes strayed toward the rumpled bed. Being with Troy had been wonderful, even knowing the risks. Professionally, if he returned to the Monarchs, their intimacy could affect their working relationship. Personally, she knew she’d need more than a one-night stand. But would his lack of trust destroy any chance of their having a long-term relationship?
14
“Did you get me to come over here so I could thank you for letting me stay at your place Tuesday night?” Barron stared at a wedge of his dry wheat toast with tired, red eyes.
Troy watched in amusement as Barron studiously avoided looking across the table at him or his breakfast.
“Bling, it’s Saturday morning. If your gratitude were that important to me, I’d have as
ked you four days ago.” Troy scooped his fluffy scrambled eggs.
“Then why am I here?” Barron bit into the crispy slice of toast. His movements were sluggish and careful.
Troy scanned the restaurant. The weekend crowd was thin. That’s why Troy had asked Barron to meet him at eight o’clock. Most people were either still in bed or eating breakfast at home. He was surprised Barron had agreed to the early call. From the window on his left, Troy could see the Empire Arena two blocks away.
“The Monarchs could be swept out of the play-offs in the first series.” He lifted the eggs to his lips.
Barron paled and looked away. He took a shaky breath. “We’ve only played three of the seven games.”
“And you’ve lost all of them. It’s the best of seven, Barron. Tomorrow night, you have your second home game of the series.”
“I know how the play-offs work.” Barron swallowed more toast.
Troy lowered his fork. “Then you know if you don’t win, you’re done for the season.”
Barron sighed, rubbing his forehead. “What’s your point?”
“Are you going to play any of those games without a hangover?”
Barron pushed aside the plate with what remained of his toast and glared at Troy. “You’re blaming me for our losses? There are twelve other guys on that team.”
Troy ignored the rest of his scrambled eggs and turkey bacon. “You’re the only one drinking your way through the play-offs. Are you doing drugs, too?”
“I’m not.” Barron looked indignant.
Troy studied Barron’s bloodshot eyes and drawn features. The other man was drinking himself into oblivion even on his off nights. “Your drinking’s affecting your game. Have you noticed?”
“I’m entitled to an off game.”
“No. You’re not.” He thought back to what Andrea had said about her drinking problem. “What’s bugging you, Bling?”
Barron gulped his second mug of coffee. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”
Troy knew the other man was lying. His body language screamed I have a hangover. His lack of eye contact said he had a secret. “Then why are you getting drunk every night of the week?”