Bold

by Nicola Marsh

  “God, yes…” He moaned, lost in the heat, in the sensation, of having her suck him.

  His hips started moving involuntarily as his hand fisted her hair, her suction so fucking good.

  Until he glanced down. Saw her bobbing head. Reminded of the last three years when he’d lost himself in countless blowjobs from nameless blondes all in the effort to forget.

  But this time was different. Chantal was different. And he didn’t want to forget, not one single moment.

  “Hey.” He eased out of her mouth, momentarily missing the incredible wet heat. “My turn to taste you.”

  “Later,” she mumbled, reaching for him again, but he helped her up gently, before kneeling at her feet.

  “Sweetheart, we’ve got all night and I want to do you every which way,” he said, not breaking eye contact as he unclipped each suspender with slow precision. Peeled her panties down. Eyed her narrow landing strip. Leaned forward and tongued her.

  She sighed and leaned back, braced her hands against the marble cabinet, open to him. He nudged her legs further apart, slid a finger in her, another, pumping in and out as he licked her clit. Circled it. Sucked it. Savored her internal muscles tightening as she started to mumble incoherently. As her pelvis thrust against his mouth. As she came in a low-pitched keen that made him want to hear it repeatedly.

  He was on her in a second, barely remembering to grab a condom from the bathroom cabinet as he kissed her. Sheathed himself as their tongues dueled. Plunged into her as she bit his shoulder. Fucked so hard there was nothing beyond their groans and pants and the mind-blowing sensation of never wanting to be anywhere but here. Inside her. Slick. Tight. Wet.

  He didn’t prolong it. He couldn’t. Not when he was this close.

  He flicked her clit with his thumb and she shattered again. Only then did he let go, thrusting into her once, twice. Shot his load in an explosion so fierce he almost blacked out.

  Stunned and shaken to his core, he opened his eyes to find Chantal staring at him, her smug smile at odds with the haunted expression in her eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” He tried to disengage but she clamped her legs around him tighter.

  “Nothing.” She cupped his face in her hands and eyeballed him. “For once, everything is right.”

  Scared by the depth of emotion he glimpsed before she blinked, Zane picked her up, still buried deep inside her. “And I’m going to prove it to you, all night long, remember?”

  And he would. Because sex he understood.

  But what he’d just seen in Chantal’s expressive eyes? Frightened the hell out of him.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Christopher’s a no-show. Again.” Zane’s arm tightened around Chantal’s waist as she tried to hide her relief. “God, he’s such a flake.”

  “He’s a busy man,” she said, feeling like an idiot for defending him after he’d been such a bastard to her, but so loved up after last night she would’ve done anything to soothe Zane’s wounded pride.

  “He’s a selfish, narcissistic prick,” Zane said, digging his cell out of his pocket to check for messages. “And I’m a goddamn fool for believing anything he says.”

  “Hey, you’re not a fool, you’re idealistic.” She snuggled into him, kissed his cheek. “And that’s a good thing.”

  Zane shot her a tight smile as he scrolled through his messages. “Not if I’m dumb enough to believe in happy families at my age,” he said, scowling when he came up empty.

  “Wyatt’s a cool guy. And Kurt’s…interesting.”

  He chuckled and slid the phone back in his pocket. “Yeah, I guess the trip wasn’t a total bust.”

  She bumped him with her hip. “Don’t forget the added bonus of meeting me too.”

  “I’ll never forget you.” He slid his other arm around her, holding her deliciously close, reminding her of exactly how good this had felt with the two of them naked. “After last night? Impossible.”

  “It was pretty damn sensational,” she said, angling her pelvis so it fit snugly against him.

  “Hell, yeah.” He brushed her lips in a slow, sensual kiss that left her breathless. “Wish we didn’t have to catch that plane in two hours.”

  “Haven’t you heard of the mile high club?”

  To her surprise, a faint pink stained his cheeks.

  “Oh my God.” She jabbed him in the chest. “You’ve done it on a plane?”

  He shrugged, an adorable mixture of bashful and embarrassed. “I’m a footballer. We get up to some crazy stuff on end of season trips. Women, booze and a tight-lipped policy of not divulging any bad behavior while away equals anything goes.”

  Curious as to how far Zane had gone, she said, “How wild did it get?”

  He made a zipping motion over his mouth. “What happens on the boys’ trip stays on the boys’ trip.”

  A surge of jealousy pierced her loved-up fog leftover from last night. Not that she had any right to be jealous but the thought of Zane getting it on with countless bimbos lodged like a half-digested meal in her gut.

  “So you’re saying I’m tame compared with your past?”

  “Babe, you’re anything but tame,” he murmured, nipping at her earlobe. “You proved that repeatedly last night.”

  Her ego soothed, Chantal smiled. “You say the nicest things.”

  “And the dirtiest,” he added, as she remembered the wicked words he’d teased her with as he was inside her, on top of her, going down on her…

  “Want me to give you another sample?” His warm breath teased the tender skin behind her ear, making her skin pebble. “Because I can be pretty bloody eloquent when it comes to sex.”

  “Lots of practice, huh?”

  Damn, she sounded shrewish and she regretted the words popping out of her mouth when he released her, a slight frown creasing his brow as he studied her.

  “Sorry, none of my business—”

  “I was a man whore, sure, but that’s in the past.” He traced a fingertip down her cheek. “I knew you were different the minute we met.”

  Chantal had no idea what he meant. Was he saying he was a one-woman-man for however long he was in the country? Or did he mean something more?

  “Already told you, I’ve had too much meaningless sex and it’s not for me anymore.” He pursed his lips, as if thinking. “I want…”

  “What?” Chantal shouldn’t ask, not when she knew they couldn’t be together beyond last night. It was the only reason why she’d given in and had sex, a final fling before she extricated herself out of this thing between them. But her logic was warring with her emotions and right now, those stupid emotions were winning. “What do you want?”

  “I want to stick around.” He twisted a strand of hair around his finger, tucked it behind her ear. “I want to get to know you better. To have something real. Something beyond a one night stand.”

  Which is exactly what last night had to be.

  Damn, she was in so much trouble.

  She had to pull back, had to preserve what little was left of her impressionable heart. The same heart she’d built walls around over the years, the same heart that had hardened with resolve and didn’t yearn for anyone’s approval any longer.

  “Is that what you want too?” He tipped her chin up, leaving her no option but to look into his beautiful eyes, gold and green flecks glowing amidst the caramel brown.

  She wanted to yell ‘hell, yeah’, wanted to throw herself into his arms and never let go.

  But no matter how pissed Zane was with his dad at the moment, he still wanted Christopher in his life.

  And that meant she couldn’t be.

  “How long are you staying around for?”

  If her answering his question with a question surprised him, he hid it well, his unwavering stare never leaving hers.

  “Maybe another week or two?”

  “Then I guess there’s your answer.” She placed her palms on his chest and eased away. “You want more than transient but that’s all I’ll ever
be. And honestly? While last night was unbelievable, I don’t want to get in any deeper when I know you’re leaving soon.”

  Zane opened his mouth to respond, closed it, his eyes wide with shock. “But surely we can spend what time I have left together? We can do so much—”

  “I can’t.” She shook her head, blinking rapidly to stop the tears threatening to spill. “You’re a great guy and I like you a lot, but once we get back to Vegas, we’re done.”

  “Bullshit.” His eyes narrowed. “There’s more to this. You were totally into us ‘til we got to LA, then my dad upset you…”

  He slapped his head. “I’m such an idiot. I meant to ask you what happened with him when I got back yesterday but then you were in the bathroom and we got sidetracked.”

  Chantal knew she should make a run for it rather than reveal the depths of Christopher’s disdain, but Zane had backed her into a corner, leaving little room for escape.

  “Tell me what he said.”

  “It’s not important—”

  “It is to me,” he said, lowering his voice with effort when a few passersby in the lobby glanced their way. “Something’s changed with you and I want to know what it is.”

  Chantal should lie. Make up some crappy story to end this on her terms. But she loathed Christopher Harrison as much as he obviously despised her, and she’d be damned if he gave Zane some bullshit story about why they couldn’t do the sponsorship deal together.

  So she settled for a toned down version. “We had a difference of opinion about the sponsorship deal. Looks like it won’t go ahead.”

  Zane’s eyebrows rose. “Why? It’s a win-win for everyone.”

  “Your father doesn’t approve of my business and doesn’t want to be associated with it.”

  There, she’d said it, leaving out the parts where Christopher had basically called her a stupid slut.

  Zane flushed an angry red, his fingers biting into her arms before he released her. “He’s a bloody idiot.”

  “And a prejudiced one,” she added, aiming for levity, but unable to draw a smile as Zane’s frown deepened.

  “Leave my family to me,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  Family? Did that mean someone other than Christopher had warned him off associating with her?

  Wyatt was a sweetie so it had to be that meathead Kurt.

  She wanted to say his family had her all wrong, that she was sick to death of being judged by other people when they knew nothing about the real her.

  But all that would serve to do was bind Zane to her tighter, when she should be cutting ties.

  “I can handle the sponsorship side of things.” She touched his hand in reassurance, wishing she could entwine her fingers with his and never let go. “Christopher doesn’t scare me and regardless of what he says, I’m going to make this deal happen for Bombshells.”

  “And us?” His solemn stare bore into her, demanding answers she wasn’t willing to give. “What’s going on with us?”

  Ignoring the pain cleaving her heart in two, she reached up to cup his cheek before thinking better of it. “There is no us,” she said, her hand falling uselessly to her side as she gazed at the guy she’d come to care way too much for.

  “We can make this work—”

  “Don’t,” she said, pressing her fingertip to his mouth all too briefly, before steeling her resolve and walking away.

  Needing to change her flight ticket, needing some distance between them, needing him more than ever but knowing she couldn’t have him.

  “Hey, what’s with the daydreaming?” Wyatt thumped the table between them to get Zane’s attention. “How was LA?”

  “A bust.” Zane stopped pushing cutlery around aimlessly and glared at Wyatt, wishing he wouldn’t ask the obvious question but knowing it was unavoidable.

  “What happened?”

  Yep, there it was, the million-dollar question that Zane had no frigging hope of answering.

  Before Zane could come up with some half-arsed excuse to fob off his brother, Wyatt picked up his burger. “You don’t mind if I eat while we talk? Got to get back to work soon.”

  “No worries,” Zane said, nudging his half-eaten steak away. He couldn’t stomach it, not with the shit-storm that had rained down on him the last twenty-four hours.

  Wyatt chewed quickly, waited until his mouth was empty to speak. “Come on, spill, bro.”

  Zane had to give him something, so he said, “Christopher’s a prick.”

  Wyatt grinned. “I already told you that.”

  “Was meant to show up before I headed back here, didn’t front. No message, call, nada.” Zane pointed at his mobile. “Sent a text three hours later, citing another frigging business emergency.”

  “He has a lot of those. Usually coincided when I had something important on.” Wyatt’s dry response didn’t help alleviate the foul mood Zane had been in since LA. “Oddly enough, business didn’t count so much when Kurt was playing his first college game or aiming for record touchdowns at the Super Bowl.”

  “I met Kurt.”

  “And?”

  “He’s an egotistical bastard, too.”

  Wyatt’s grin widened. “Well, well, aren’t we just one big happy family.”

  “Kurt was okay once he loosened up and lost the attitude.” Zane grimaced and resisted the urge to punch something, a visceral reaction every time he thought of his father and how little he truly meant to him. “But Christopher…”

  “What?”

  “I thought he’d make more of an effort, you know?” Grateful he could talk to Wyatt about this stuff, he continued. “Fuck, I flew out here to meet him. He asked for a second chance, I gave it to him. But he doesn’t seem interested.”

  Wyatt wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Word of advice? Christopher hates being wrong. Always has. Maybe the guilt of doing wrong by you and Steele is getting to him? Maybe every time he sees you he’s reminded of how badly he fucked up?”

  “Possible.” Zane had analyzed this from every angle on the flight back from LA—a flight he’d taken alone after Chantal had changed hers—and hadn’t considered that possibility. “But I think I’m done. Time to cut my losses and head home.”

  “Already?” Wyatt’s disappointment surprised him. And went some way to making up for his father’s apparent disinterest. “Too bad, bro. Would’ve been my shout next time.”

  “I thought you were paying for this meal?”

  “Nah, jocks earn more than geeks.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Wyatt smiled. “Yeah, but worth a shot.”

  Zane smiled back. He’d miss Wyatt. Miss his dry humor, his bluntness, his analytical way of looking at an emotionally fraught situation.

  “It’s been great hanging out with you,” Zane said, wishing Steele could’ve met Wyatt. Their personalities were so similar. They would’ve bonded over megabytes and data uploads.

  “You’re not going to get all teary and shit, are you?”

  Zane fake knuckled his eyes. “Not over you.”

  Chantal, on the other hand? Every time their last conversation played over in his head, he wanted to thump something. Or bawl.

  “Something else went down in LA?” Wyatt studied him. “You haven’t mentioned Chantal, and I know you were both buzzed before you left.”

  Zane didn’t want to talk about Chantal. Because if he did, he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop.

  He’d put himself out there and she’d walked away. Kicked him where it hurt the most, his frigging heart. Ironic, considering he’d wanted more than a quick fuck this time and he’d got so much more. More pain than what it was worth.

  He had to downplay the disaster with Chantal. Because he knew how this would play out. He’d offload, Wyatt would offer sane, logical advice and he’d be tempted to head over to her place ASAP to demand the truth. Because he didn’t buy the way she’d ended things, not for a second.

  “What we had was casual, no biggie.”

 
The way his gut twisted reinforced he’d just uttered the lie of the year.

  “So why are you looking like the dog just ate your football boot?”

  Zane sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose. It did little for the dull headache that had started when Chantal had walked away.

  “We got together. It was amazing. Then she ended it.”

  Wyatt frowned. “That’s weird.”

  “There’s more to it.”

  There had to be. Because Zane wouldn’t accept her pitiful excuses. She’d withdrawn from him for a reason. And he’d damn well find out what it was now he was back in Vegas.

  He didn’t want to head home only to wish he’d followed up with her. This entire trip had been about not wanting to have regrets: meeting his father, his brothers, putting some of his resentment to rest. No way in hell did he want to be regretting anything when he was back in Melbourne.

  “I think Christopher had something to do with it,” Zane said, his suspicions solidifying once voiced. “I wanted them to meet, to discuss the sponsorship deal for the new footy league in Nevada. But when I arrived, Christopher looked like he’d sucked on a lemon and I heard her say something about him equating her with shit he’d stepped in.”

  Wyatt winced. “Fuck, that’s bad.”

  “Yeah, but we didn’t get around to talking about it ‘til later, when she ended it. She said Christopher despised her club so wouldn’t do the sponsorship deal with her.” Zane shook his head. “But she wouldn’t end our relationship over Christopher’s narrow-mindedness, not after the way we connected, so there has to be more to it, but damned if I know what it is.”

  On the plane ride back to Vegas, he’d rehashed every moment they’d spent together in LA, replayed every conversation, and he was still no wiser as to why Chantal had left him hanging like that.

  “I shouldn’t be this cut up. I’m heading home soon, she lives here. It would’ve had an expiry date anyway.”