To Win Her Heart (Players)

by Mackenzie Crowne

  He needed time to think. Needed the time to get his equilibrium back. Jesus. He knew firsthand how Gracie, Jake, Tuck, and V felt about the press. Yet, along with Jessi, Tim, and CC, they’d stood as one and had his back as if he were part of the family.

  “There’s nothing needs doing at the gym that can’t wait.” Vern ripped his coat from the banister. “What the hell were you thinking, disappointing that girl when she just bared her heart to the world defending you? Are you blind, boy, or just stupid?”

  Guilt slid toward anger. He jammed his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Coward, stupid, and now blind. You got any more insults you want to drop on me?”

  Vern shook his head, his face a mask of disgust. “Never thought I’d live to see the day Max Grayson would tuck tail and run from a slip of a girl who barely comes to his chin. But you’re scared, all right. White knuckled, deer in the headlights, gut in a vice scared.”

  The bull’s-eye assessment hit Max like an uppercut to the jaw, and he clenched his teeth. Fuckin’ A, he was scared. Scared shitless of what it would mean to walk away from her and even more alarmed that he wanted to stay. With her boundless belief in him and stubborn determination to wear him down, Jessi Tucker had managed the unthinkable. She’d made him believe he could have things he’d never dared to dream.

  Christ. He was screwed. How could he go back to settling for a good-enough-to-get-by existence after having been given a glimpse of a life rich with the kind of love and happiness he’d stopped believing in with the deaths of his parents? Yet, as scared as he was at the thought of a future without Jessi, he was terrified of what would be required of him if he were to take the chance and claim the love she offered. The love he yearned for more than he needed to breathe.

  Compassionate, courageous, and sexy as hell, Jessi represented all that was good in the world. When she looked at him, he saw the man he’d always wanted to be reflected in her eyes. How could he survive the blow if the love in those wide blue orbs was replaced with revulsion?

  He jammed his fingers through his hair, his gaze swinging to the empty stairs. “It’s complicated, Vern.”

  A windy snort drew his attention.

  Vern’s eyes gleamed with impatience. “She’s a woman. Of course it’s complicated.”

  Max shook his head at the sexist dismissal and, as he studied the rough-edged man who had dragged him from the gutter, he wished things were different. With every fiber of his being, he wished the sins of the past could be erased, but the dark shadows of his childhood never faded and never lost their sting.

  “There are things she doesn’t know about me. Things I’ve never shared with anyone.”

  “Shit, boy, we all have things in our past we ain’t proud of.” Vern tossed his head toward the empty hallway upstairs. “That girl up there doesn’t strike me as the kind who scares off easy.” A chuckle rattled in his throat. “Did you see how she ripped into that tight-ass reporter?”

  Max’s lips curved helplessly. Jessi on a tear was a sight to behold. Like a seasoned pro, she’d sliced Chet Bertrum to pieces with a handful of precision cuts and, if the reactions of the gathered press were an indication, managed to tug at the hearts of her fans in the process.

  She’d claimed she found the sentiments with Max but, the truth was, love and loyalty, happiness and heart, were the essence of Jessi Tucker. Her capacity for love and simple joy of life, even in the face of the debilitating stress of her career, were impossible to resist. Whether laughing with her family and friends or whispering her pleasure in the privacy of the night, her inner fire burned hot, torching through his barriers to warm the dark corners of his mind and heart.

  “Do you love her?”

  Vern’s simple question ripped at Max’s soul, and he fought the urge to squirm the way he had as a kid whenever the battered old boxer had pinned him on the spot. From the beginning, their relationship been based on the unvarnished truth, with very few exceptions. Vern had always had an uncanny knack for seeing through Max even when others couldn’t. Lying would be a waste of time.

  Love her? Shit, how could he not? He scraped a palm over the back of his neck. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Then what’s the problem? Why aren’t you upstairs telling her you’re sorry for ruining her plans?”

  Max dropped his arm to his side. “Apologizing won’t change who or what I am.”

  The frown dragging Vern’s lips down was reminiscent of the many he’d worn over the years, usually right before he tore into Max for doing something stupid. Today was no different.

  “Don’t be an ass. In all the years since you staggered into that gym, carrying a chip the size of a boulder on your scrawny shoulders, you’ve never backed down from a challenge. You fought and scraped and didn’t let the shit from your childhood stop you from reaching your goals. Why are you now?”

  He yanked on his coat and didn’t give Max a chance to respond. “You’ve done good, boy, building this place and winning a couple of titles, but those things won’t keep you warm at night or fill the lonely hours when the years grow long and the body tired.” Dipping his chin, he seared Max with faded blue eyes. “That girl upstairs doesn’t give a shit who or what you think you are. She loves you. Max Grayson.” He poked a gnarled finger at Max’s chest. “Don’t screw that up.”

  Max coughed a humorless laugh as Vern turned and stalked out the front door.

  I support Max Grayson because I love him.

  He rubbed a hand over his chest, and with a sigh, moved about the center, locking the door, and shutting off the lights. She hadn’t repeated the claim since that first night in New Hampshire, and until she’d spoken the words, he hadn’t realized how badly he’d wanted to hear them again. Thank God, no one had pressed him for a response to her announcement. Thrilled, humbled, and scared shitless, he wouldn’t have been able to utter a word.

  She’d called him an honorable man, and the lie burned at his stomach lining like acid. Vern was right. Max owed her an apology, just as he did Gracie, Tuck, and the others, but he owed Jessi more than that. An honorable man wouldn’t greedily accept the love a woman offered without giving her the truth.

  Dread nearly consumed him as he climbed the stairs on leaden feet. With every fiber of his being, he wanted to be the man she described. He wanted Jessi Tucker. Wanted to grab hold and not let go. To claim forever and experience each and every promise shining like a beacon in her beautiful eyes. But would she still want him once she’d heard it all?

  Exposing the darkest corners of his soul when she was already pissed wouldn’t be a point in his favor, but did the when and where really matter? There would never be a good time for what he had to say. Gut-wrenching fear and desperate hope collided as he opened the condo door. He stopped short after only two steps.

  “Jessi?” He shut the door and bent to retrieve a discarded high heel. Its mate lay several feet away. His eyes widened and trepidation was trampled beneath the sudden thundering of his heart. The pounding increased as his gaze traveled across the condo. Like a silky trail of breadcrumbs, the pale peach blouse and slim black skirt Jessi had worn to the press conference pooled at intervals on the wood plank floor.

  Moving cautiously, he followed into the bedroom, stepping over the lacy bra she’d dropped. He glanced around the empty room. “Jessi?” Heat slammed into him, and he nearly choked as she appeared in the bathroom doorway.

  If she was pissed, she had a devious way of getting even. The clip that held her hair earlier was gone, and her long auburn curls tumbled about her shoulders and bared breasts. A miniscule triangle of black lace was all she wore. While the thong wasn’t the face cloth Tuck had once predicted she’d employ, it was just as effective. The thin straps trailed high on her hips, emphasizing the curve of her waist. Her skin gleamed in the low light as she walked toward him, hips rolling in a seductive sway.

  He swallowed with an audible click. “Jessi, I—”

  “I know. You need your coat but
,” she stopped before him and rested a hand against his chest, “I was wondering.” Her lashes lowered and so did her hand. He sucked in a breath as she cupped his balls through his slacks.

  The high heel he’d forgotten he carried slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor.

  A purely feminine smile curved her lips. Trailing a finger up the ridge of his swelling erection, she slid his belt buckle from its loop and tugged. It joined the shoe with a clang. Blue eyes, sparkling with sensual intent, peeked at him through a thick fringe of lashes. “Do you think Vern will mind delaying his ride to the gym for a few minutes?”

  Max’s stomach muscles contracted as she lowered the zipper of his slacks. She dipped her fingers beneath the waistband of his briefs to wrap them around his cock, and his mind went blank. “Vern?”

  Her throaty laugh hardened him nearly as effectively as her stroking fingers. She stepped closer and peeled both briefs and slacks down his hips with her free hand. They dropped to his ankles, and she rose on her tiptoes, brushing his lips with hers. She tugged at the hem of his sweater, pushing it up high enough to press her lips to his chest. Electricity arced through him at the nip of her teeth on one small nipple. Silky and warm, her curves slid against his reaching fingers as she shimmied down his body, trailing moist kisses over his chest and abs to drop to her knees.

  Lord, have mercy.

  His blood surged and he stared down at the erotic picture of her glossy head of curls poised above his straining cock. Sweat broke on his brow, and he grew so hard he hurt. The tip of her tongue, swirling over the head, made him groan, and as she took him in her mouth, he had to lock his legs to stay on his feet.

  Damp heat enveloped him. Sucking gently, she drew him deeper, then pulled back with a faint scrape of her teeth.

  He slid his eyes shut on a full-body shudder. “Fuck. Me.” Her murmur of approval vibrated through him and his balls contracted. Clenching his teeth, he buried his fingers in her curls and gently tugged her free. “Stop, baby. You’re killing me.”

  She tipped her head back and a sultry smile curved her lips. The smoky tenor of her voice sparked over his hypersensitive nerve endings like a live wire. “I’ve never done this before. Looks like I’m doing it right.”

  Laughter rumbled in his chest as he slid his hands beneath her arms and lifted her to her feet. Doing it right…hell. She’d brought him to the brink of orgasm in record time, and if he didn’t plunge inside her in the next ten seconds, he would lose what was left of his mind.

  Clutching her close, he dropped his head, and his mouth dove for hers. She met his hungry kiss and matched him in her urgency. Jamming her hands beneath his sweater, she scored the muscles of his back with her nails.

  His tongue sparred with hers as he backed her toward the bed—and nearly toppled them to the floor. Gripping her tighter, he found his balance. She pulled back to meet his gaze, giggling as he kicked free of the slacks shackling his ankles. They stumbled together, falling onto the bed, and he immediately rolled to his back to wrench his sweater over his head and off.

  “Hurry.” The guttural plea flew from her lips.

  She writhed on the bed, shimmying out of her thong. Gaze locked on her movements, he reached blindly for the bedside table drawer and the condoms inside. His fingers closed around a foil packet, and she grabbed his wrist. Scrabbling to her knees, she straddled his hips and snatched the condom from his hand.

  She tore at the packaging and cast it aside, then lined up the latex ring with the swollen head of his cock. Lifting his head for a better view, he clenched his teeth and forgot how to breathe. Her slim fingers smoothed the thin rubber over the length of him.

  “I meant every word, Max.”

  His gaze jerked up and locked on hers. The glaze of heated excitement couldn’t mask the determination in her blue eyes. Without looking away, she gripped him in her palm and scooted forward to position the tip at the entrance between her folds.

  “I love you, and nothing in your past will change that.”

  She spoke the words as if they were a pledge. As if she’d read his mind and knew what was coming. As if she saw the shadows in his soul and refused to let them matter. Remorse sliced at his heart.

  “Don’t do that.” Her chin lifted, and she shook her head. “Don’t go to that dark place where I can’t reach you. Stay with me, Max.” She lowered her body and took him inside inch by slow inch. “Love me.”

  I do.

  Though the response hovered on his lips, he couldn’t speak the words. Not until she understood. Still, the chilling reminder of what he had to do was no match for the plea in her eyes. Explanations and regrets would come later but, for now, he’d give her the only bond he could. Through the physical connection neither of them could resist, he’d make his pledge and hope like hell she didn’t throw it back in his face later.

  Grasping her hips, he rolled until she lay beneath him. Propped on his elbows, he flexed his hips and slid home. She groaned and wrapped one leg around the back of his thighs.

  Pressing his cheek to hers, he began to move while whispering in her ear, “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”

  Chapter 24

  The rustle of clothing interrupted Jessi’s silent musings where she stood looking out the bedroom window. Night had fallen as they’d dozed between bouts of lovemaking. She sniffed mentally. Well…Max had napped. She’d been too wound up.

  Behind her, reflected in the glass of the bedroom window, he tugged on the slacks he’d worn earlier. The wooden floor creaked a second before he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and dropped his chin to the top of her head.

  “You okay?”

  She slid her fingers over his forearms where they crossed at her chest, and the sleeves of her robe slipped to her elbows. Sighing, she dropped her head back against his shoulder. “I’m fine. Just restless.”

  The tensing of his body was subtle, but there. His arms contracted in a gentle squeeze. “We need to talk.”

  Well, shit. That sounded ominous. So much for thinking a couple of orgasms would help him relax or that a single declaration of love would wipe the shadows from his eyes. She wasn’t surprised, though. Far from being relieved things had gone so well this afternoon, he’d been strung as tight as guitar string by the time Tim pronounced the press conference over.

  “Normally, when someone says ‘we have to talk,’ what they really mean is, I’m about to verbally smack you upside the head.” She turned in his arms and offered him a wincing smile. “Can’t I have a root canal instead?”

  One corner of his lips quirked, and he shook his head. Okay, good sign. If he could still smile, all hope wasn’t yet lost.

  He slid his arms from around her and stepped back, holding out a hand. “Come sit with me.”

  Gone was the sensual lover of an hour ago. In his place was an intent man with something on his mind. Something she would bet her shoe closet she wasn’t going to like. Beating Max’s ghosts would take time…time she suddenly feared he didn’t plan to give her.

  She curled her fingers into fists. “Yeah, this doesn’t sound good. Whatever it is, can’t it wait until the morning?”

  He dropped his hand, and the tight line of his mouth broadcast his tension. “Waiting won’t make this any easier to hear…or say.”

  Definitely not good.

  He swung out a hand, indicating the bed. On shuffling feet, she stepped by him and climbed onto the mattress before settling cross-legged with her back propped against the headboard. He sat on the edge, a foot or so away, which was fine with her. If he was going to break her heart, she needed a little space. Meeting his sober gaze, she made her voice as light as possible.

  “You’re scaring me, and I’m already freaked out over losing you Haven Place.”

  His brows dipped with his frown. “This isn’t about my mother’s house, and if you blame yourself one more time, I’m going to paddle your ass.”

  “I can’t help it.” She retur
ned his frown with a scowl. “Haven Place wasn’t just your dream. It’s a part of you.”

  He scrubbed a palm over his jaw. “Maybe so, but Elizabeth Krandall was never going to sign over that deed. All I was doing was spinning my wheels.”

  She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “I don’t believe you’re as calm about losing it as you say.”

  “Let it go, Jess. It was a pipe dream. An unrealistic one.” His shoulders sagged on a windy sigh. “Hell, if karma is real like you claim, my mother’s home was never going to be mine to begin with.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Wry acceptance quirked his lips. “My mother always claimed the house was infused with peace and tranquility. A place like that has no business ending up in the hands of a man like me.”

  She had no idea where this was going, but it seemed he was deliberately trying to make her mad. “I hate when you do that.”

  He arched a brow, a habit that was beginning to get on her nerves. “Do what?”

  “Say ugly things about yourself like ‘a man like me’ or ‘bad blood,’ whatever the hell that means.” She dropped her arms and leaned forward to drill him in the chest with a stiffened finger. “That really pisses me off.”

  He snagged her hand, wrapping his fingers around her wrist. “Yeah, well, sometimes the truth is ugly.”

  She tugged her hand free and sat back. Damn his ghosts. Why was it everyone else could see him for the man he’d become, but he couldn’t? Dragging in a heavy breath, she softened her voice. “Yes, it is, and you had more ugliness in your life than any child deserves, but you were a little boy, Max. The ugliness was directed at you. It didn’t come from you.”