In the Zone (Portland Storm 5)

by Catherine Gayle

  She was definitely the one initiating this time, but I couldn’t push for more than what she was ready for. I wouldn’t. She deserved better than that, and I’d be damned if I treated her with anything less than the utmost respect. No assumptions. She might be ready for a little make out session, but that didn’t mean she was ready to move beyond that.

  I forced my hands into fists, keeping them clenched at my sides because I didn’t trust myself fully. Not now. Not with the sweet taste of her on my tongue and the softness of her lips brushing against mine.

  She tilted her head, deepened the kiss, drove me insane with wanting her. I was so hard I thought I might come if she made even the slightest contact with my cock. It left me torn between wanting her to touch me and hoping she wouldn’t.

  Who the hell was I kidding? I wanted her to touch me. I wanted her hands and mouth and teeth and tongue all over me.

  Without taking her lips from mine, she climbed up over me and straddled my hips. Her skirt parted to accommodate her new position, and I itched to run my hands along her thighs, to slide them up farther and knead her ass, to draw her down to me. It was torture to keep my fists where they needed to be. One of her hands was on my shoulder, the other against the back of the couch, supporting her. She pulled back a bit, sucking in breath after breath; I couldn’t breathe for wanting to bury my face in the cleavage rising and falling right in front of me.

  I closed my eyes, trying to will that beautiful sight away. I ran through a series of unsexy images in my mind, hoping that would help—jockstraps, smelly hockey pads, watching Chunk get about ninety stitches in his forearm a few weeks ago… That was definitely helping.

  “I thought we were just friends right now,” I croaked.

  “Maybe we can move a little beyond friends,” she said, still panting.

  “How far beyond?”

  “Far enough for this. Far enough to make out a little.”

  To make out a little. Fucking hell, she was going to kill me.

  “You can touch me some, Keith.”

  My hands jerked as though trying to unclench of their own volition. “No, I can’t. Not unless you’re ready to let me do more than simply touch.”

  She lowered herself down onto my lap, stretching her neck so she could lay kisses along the line of my jaw and up toward my ear. “How much more?” she asked in a breathless whisper.

  “Unless you’re prepared for me to carry you up to my bedroom, handcuff you to my bed, strip every piece of your clothes off, and make you come about a dozen times, I’m keeping my hands to myself.”

  “Oh.” She kissed my throat, right over my Adam’s apple. It involuntarily bobbed from her touch. “I suppose you’d better keep your hands to yourself, then.”

  She didn’t keep hers to herself, though. I’d taken my jacket and tie off a while before, but she undid a few buttons of my shirt, pulling the fabric apart so she could place kisses on my undershirt, down the line of my breastbone. My whole body was alive, thrumming with the anticipation of where she would touch me next, and how.

  She had both hands splayed against my skin, and she slid them beneath my dress shirt and explored my abs and ribs, moving around behind my back and then up to my pecs. The tips of her fingers swirled around my nipples, and I hissed in a breath, imagining doing that to hers, only with my tongue.

  “You’re all muscle,” she murmured, tracing the lines of some of those muscles with her fingers. She was all softness. My hands remembered the silken sensation of running over her body, and it was all I could do to keep myself from doing that and more now.

  Then she moved down, down, dangerously close to my cock, pulling my shirt free from my waistband with determination. I tossed my head back against the sofa, ready to explode, but she didn’t take her exploration any lower than my belt before fisting one hand in my hair and drawing me into position so she could kiss me again. We were both winded by the time she ended the kiss, resting her head on my shoulder. The heated air from her lips spread over my neck and chest before dissipating.

  “You’re determined to torment me, aren’t you?” I said once I could speak again.

  “Maybe a little.” Brie laughed, a husky, throaty sound. “Mainly I want to take things slow, like we should have done to begin with.”

  But we hadn’t, and I knew what it was like to be with her, and that made the wanting even worse than it might otherwise have been.

  It was the most exquisite torture I’d ever gone through, though, and I wouldn’t change it for anything. I was starting to understand that she was right. We already knew we worked together on a physical level. Now we needed to make sure that we were as well-matched in every part of our relationship.

  I didn’t want this to be a quick flame, great sex but no substance. I wanted Brie, and not just for now. I wanted this to last.

  I had no clue if this meant I was falling in love with her, but I was afraid it might. Love was a dangerous business. I tended to screw loving relationships up, and there was no better example of my failures in that department than the brother who was currently upstairs with one of my teammates.

  I couldn’t screw this up, and we’d gotten things off absolutely on the wrong foot. Now, Brie was giving us the chance to turn back time, in a sense, to slow things down and build a foundation for whatever came our way.

  However difficult it might be to keep my hands off her, I was bound and determined to do precisely that.

  Brie was worth it.

  And, damn it all, so was I.

  KEITH HAD SET me up in one of the guest bedrooms downstairs, part of the closed off grouping of rooms that my cats had access to. There was a definite part of me that wanted to go to bed with him, but I knew it was too soon for that. Jumping his bones wasn’t going to accomplish anything other than satisfying our lust, and lust wasn’t what I was after.

  Well, maybe a little bit. But really, I wanted a relationship, one built on a lot more than merely hormonal drive and sexual connection. That meant we had to keep building on what we’d started in recent days. The thing was, I was about 99.999 percent sure I was falling for him. The last thing I needed was to lose my heart to him and then come to find out that we had little more than the physical to keep us going.

  That was the main reason I’d agreed to stay with him for the Christmas holidays. It would give us plenty of time to talk, really talk—and having Shane and Cole around would only encourage Keith to open up more than he’d already started to. Or at least that was what I’d told myself. I hoped it was true. Considering that the relationship between the two brothers was severely strained, regardless of why that was the case, I might be hoping for more than was likely. Or even possible.

  Still, I hoped.

  Once I’d finally been able to pull myself away from him, I headed downstairs and shut myself away in the guest room, trying to force my body to calm the heck down so I could sleep. I’d only been in bed for about thirty seconds when BC jumped up to join me.

  “Hey, buddy,” I said, my exhaustion clear in my voice, not that he would notice. Today had turned into a really long day.

  My cat purred and butted his head against mine, and so I scratched his ears for a minute. He was adjusting to the change in his circumstances like a champ. I was worried about Richie, though. I still hadn’t seen any sign of him, so my best guess was that he was still holed up inside the recliner. I would never be able to figure out how he squeezed his big Maine Coon body through the cushions the way he had, but I’d watched it happen. If he could get in, he would be able to get out.

  At least I hoped he would. Otherwise, we might have to tear apart Keith’s recliner to free my cat—not something I wanted to have to do. I’d intentionally avoided mentioning that eventuality to Keith. We could deal with it if it came to that, but otherwise it was best not to let him know we might have to take such drastic measures.

  I lay in bed for about ten minutes, tossing and turning, and trying to will my body into ignoring the overly sexed-up state
I’d left it in, but it was no use. I could still smell Keith’s scent, still taste his skin on my lips. I was horny, and there was no getting around it.

  That meant I had two options: I could either screw all my grand plans for really getting to know each other and go upstairs to join Keith or I could dig out my vibrator from my bag and take care of things myself. Option B, while less satisfying in the short term, was also far more in line with my overall plans for the long term.

  Oddly enough, it was the sounds of the vibrator and my self-pleasure that brought Richie out of hiding. He jumped up on the bed next to me, his huge green eyes glowing in the bit of moonlight filtering in through the window. I guess he was coming to see if I was all right or something, but I wasn’t really keen on the idea of my cats helping things along. I shoved him unceremoniously off the bed, vowing to spend a long time snuggling with him to make up for all the trauma I’d put him through today.

  It took almost no time to get myself off, thanks to the heavy-petting session with Keith, and wondering if he was in the same boat I was at the moment. Then I thought about what he’d said about handcuffing me to the bed, and I wondered if he really had handcuffs—he probably did, considering he’d had a vibrator lying around that first night we’d been together here—and if I would ever let him do that to me. Based on how quickly I came once my thoughts turned in that direction, I was pretty sure I’d be game. I had barely shut the vibrator off when someone knocked at my door.

  I popped up on the bed, hastily wrapping the vibrator in a washcloth and shoving all the evidence of my masturbatory endeavors into the top drawer of the nightstand. Both cats skittered away to hide, at least until they figured out whether hiding was what they really wanted to do or not. I straightened my nightgown, took a cursory glance around the room to see if there was any other evidence of what I’d been doing, and opened the door.

  Keith was standing there, leaning against the wall with a sexy-as-sin expression in his eyes. Given my current state, Sex on a Stick immediately popped into my mind, and I silently cursed Tanya for ever calling him that in the first place. I doubted I’d ever be able to look at him without thinking of him in those terms.

  BC came out from hiding almost instantly, heading over to weave around Keith’s feet.

  “Sorry,” Keith said, eyeing me up and down appreciatively in a way that made me tug on the bottom of my nightgown. The light coming in from the hall shimmered on the fabric, outlining every curve of my body.

  I shouldn’t have worn it. Heck, I shouldn’t have brought it here with me at all. It was one of the things he’d bought for me, in that package from Hips & Curves—a silky thing in royal blue that didn’t even come close to hitting my knees. I should have brought my usual pj’s, a T-shirt and a pair of flannel pants or something like that, but the fabric had felt so nice against my skin when I’d tried it on, and it had seemed so wasteful not to make use of at least a few of the things he’d bought me. So I’d brought it. I just hadn’t planned on seeing him when I was wearing it. At least not until we had moved further along with things.

  Particularly not right after bringing myself to orgasm while thinking about him.

  Keith licked his lips and swallowed hard, and I knew exactly where his thoughts had gone. “I wanted to thank you,” he finally said. “After you got me to talk about Garrett, I was able to have a conversation with Shane today. It was a really good talk, and I wouldn’t have—” He cut himself off, narrowing his eyes at me. “Are you all right? You’re all flushed, and—”

  “I’m fine.” I tugged on the bottom of the bottom of the nightgown again, debating whether it was better to shut the door in his face and die from shame or if I could somehow survive this. “You’re welcome,” I added, hoping to redirect the conversation away from me and back to why he’d come down in the first place.

  His eyes went all dark and sexy and sinful, and I felt insanely self-conscious. I wrapped my arms over my belly and backed away from the door.

  He followed me into the room, only a few steps. “Yeah… Yeah, I bet you’re fine. You were just masturbating, weren’t you?”

  “No,” I said way too defensively, flashing my eyes over to him.

  “You were.”

  My face was as hot as the rest of me. I was glad it was still dark so he couldn’t see how red I knew I was, now that I wasn’t in the path of the hall light.

  He flipped the light switch, ending that brief moment of respite. “God, that’s hot, Brie. Shit.” He backed up a pace, looking sheepish. “Were you done?”

  I had only thought my face was hot before. Now it felt as though it was engulfed in a raging inferno. “Yes,” I clipped off. There wasn’t any point in denying what I’d been doing anymore, since he seemed none too inclined to let it go.

  “Okay.” He grinned, leaning back against the doorframe. Then he winked. “Were you thinking about me?”

  I glared at him.

  His grin turned cocky without losing any of its sexy essence. “Was it as good as the real me?”

  Apparently, I was incapable of keeping the truth from being written all over my face. I might as well not even bother trying anymore. “No. There’s nothing like the real you.”

  “Good.” He winked. “I, uh…I should let you go to bed. I just wanted to thank you. Like I said.” He backed out the open door, reaching as though to close it but standing there for a minute. Staring. His gaze bored into me so intensely that I felt as though I’d melt into a puddle of want if he didn’t stop soon. “You look amazing in that, Brie. Especially when you’re blushing.”

  My blush only intensified by about a thousand shades or so. “Thank you,” I said, fighting down the urge to tell him he was full of it. As hard as it may be, I wanted to see myself the way he saw me.

  “Good night, then.” He closed the door partway, but then opened it again. “Would you ever…” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Someday, would you let me watch?”

  My eyes went so wide I felt as if they might bug out of my head.

  Keith winked. “Think about it. Good night, Brie.” He flipped out the light and shut the door, and I collapsed back on the bed, as mortified as I was turned on.

  I’D NEVER EXPERIENCED a Christmas quite like this one. Usually, I spent it with my family in Illinois. When we got together for the holidays, everybody was up in everyone else’s business all the time and the focus was all on my sister’s kids and food and presents. There was never a moment anyone could find for herself. This Christmas couldn’t have been more different from what I was used to.

  It was only the four of us—kid free, no presents to speak of, and food of the everyday variety—just hanging out and letting our relationships bloom.

  There were times that all of us were together, over meals or watching Christmas specials on TV. Keith made sure that we watched both A Charlie Brown Christmas and A Christmas Story, so at least we had some semblance of a typical holiday season. We talked, and we laughed, and we ate, and we generally enjoyed ourselves. It was easy, the four of us together. I was surprised how easy it was, actually, considering all the different levels of emotions that were present between us.

  About once a day or so, Keith and Cole would go down into Keith’s gym to work out, keeping themselves in game shape and leaving Shane and me to talk about whatever struck our fancy. He tended to tell me amusing stories about when he and his brothers had been little boys, most of them stories that might embarrass Keith if he knew I’d heard them.

  There were points when I took Cole down into the makeshift studio that Keith had mentioned so I could give him a little one-on-one dance instruction, and the two brothers would either watch us as we worked or spend some time alone together, repairing their relationship. I made a point of not asking Keith what they talked about in those moments—that was private, between the two of them—but every now and then he would tell me anyway. They were sharing memories of their childhood. They were talking about the last several years and where their lives had t
aken them. They were talking about the things that brothers talk about. I was glad for them.

  At still other moments, Keith and I split off from Shane and Cole. I made sure that we talked during many of those times, at least, but as the days passed us by, we spent more and more of those moments either flirting outrageously or wrapped up in each other. He continued to keep his hands fisted at his sides most of the time, but every now and then he would forget himself and run them over my body. I got so caught up in his touch, and there was no doubt that he tended to forget himself when he was touching me, so a few of those times we almost went further than I thought was prudent. The line of how far was too far kept moving, though, bringing us closer and closer to ending up in bed together again.

  It didn’t take long before I was losing the will to fight against the undeniable chemistry we had. Partially because my need for him was so intense, partially because we were successfully building that foundation for the future that I so desperately needed us to have.

  Most days, Keith and the guys all went with me when I had practice with Devin. Tanya came along and opened the building for us. She could have given me a key to the building if she’d wanted, but this gave her an excuse to see Devin again…and flirt with him. She hung out with the guys while Devin and I practiced. They had watched from the peanut gallery above enough times that eventually Devin started asking their opinions on some of the things we were doing.

  “When we get to this break in the music, I can’t make up my mind what should go there,” he called up at one point. “What do you guys think?”

  “Something sexy,” Keith called back, his voice echoing against the studio walls. “The music is hot there. Your movements should match.”