The Player and the Pixie (Rugby #2)

by Penny Reid

  His hand massaged my shoulder before cascading down my back to the base of my spine. There he applied a slight pressure and I let out the tiniest moan. His arm that was still around me pulled tighter, and I felt a hardness start to grow at his mid-section. I trembled.

  “I think of you all the time,” he said, mouth muffled where it rested against my hair. “You’re my first thought when I wake. During training, when I’m having dinner, driving home at the end of the day, every single time I get off.”

  “Sean . . .”

  “You, occupying all my thoughts, that’s not normal, Lucy. You said I’d forget. I haven’t. I can’t. And I don’t want to.”

  I shivered again as he wielded my name like a nuclear weapon. “It’s the distance. You think about me all the time because you know you can’t have me.”

  “There were so many weekends when I was just one click away from booking a flight to New York to see you. Just to see you. To talk, as we’ve been doing now. I want to be with you all the time.”

  I couldn’t catch my breath, acute pain and longing piercing my heart.

  “What would you have done?” he continued. “Would you have turned me away?”

  His words made me melt and his hand at the base my spine lowered, cupping my arse and causing a breath to whoosh out of me. His fingers curled between my legs, brushing tantalizingly close to a spot that ached for him. I whimpered and he answered it with a rumbling growl.

  “I love watching you come, the way you look. It’s branded into my mind. Please, let me make you come now.” His growl turned to a whisper.

  “No,” I said, so quietly I wasn’t sure he heard.

  He groaned. “Why not?”

  “Because we still need to talk.”

  “We have been talking.”

  This was crazy. Because it wasn’t the promise of sex. It wasn’t even really his words. It was how he said them. The adoration. The unmistakable vulnerability. Pining. Pleading. Promise.

  Inhaling a deep breath for courage, I pushed away from him with shaking hands and went to sit on the bed again. When I looked at him his gaze was on fire, and I knew sitting here had been a bad choice. He was undressing me, stripping me with his eyes, and the intensity was jarring. Standing again, I walked over to the armchair he’d previously occupied and crossed my legs.

  “I just don’t want to jeopardize anything about this wedding,” I began, hands fiddling with the hem of my top. “I’m . . .” I thought about confessing to my shoplifting crime spree but decided against it. “I’m on edge.”

  “If you’re on edge, I know something that will relax you,” he said seductively. I felt his words penetrate deep in my bones as my libido screamed, yes, yes, let him help you relax!

  I shook my head. “I mean it, I need to keep out of trouble, Sean. I’m already the black sheep of the family, and I just flipped out on my mother for no real reason. That’s not a good start to the most important few days of my brother’s life.”

  Sean tilted his head. “You’re far too colorful to ever be the black sheep.”

  “Can you be serious with me for a minute?”

  “I am being serious,” he said, before striding forward to kneel in front of me. He took my hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over the insides of my wrists. I tried to ignore how wonderful it felt. “If your mother thinks you’re something to be ashamed of, then it’s her loss, because I’ve experienced how amazing you are. The moment you walk into a room you brighten it, Lucy Fitzpatrick, and I for one feel like the luckiest bastard in the world for having known you.”

  “You . . .” I started but my voice failed me. “You can’t say stuff like that when I’m trying to tell you we can’t be together. It isn’t fair.”

  His thumbs stilled, and when he spoke his voice was frosty. It was a stark contrast to his previously heated tone. “Wait a minute. Answer me honestly. Did you come here to tell me we couldn’t be together until after the wedding, or did you come to tell me we can’t be together at all?”

  “I…I don’t know.”

  He stared at me for a beat, the astonished hurt in his eyes making my stomach drop. Standing from his kneeling position, he walked to the other side of the room as he ran a hand through his blond locks. I watched as the muscles in his shoulders bunched with tension. He let out an irritable breath before resting his hands on his hips.

  “You’re making something that could be so simple into something really complicated here, Lucy,” he said in frustration, still not facing me.

  “There’s never been anything simple about you and me,” I returned. “We both knew it could go no further than the physical from the very start. I told you—”

  “Yes, but that was before. Things are different now. I’m different.”

  I couldn’t help giving him a skeptical look. “Are you? The last I knew you were keen to go out and start practicing your newly gained ‘skills’ on other women.”

  Okay, so that was a low blow, but I was feeling desperate and defensive.

  His icy blues turned dark as they surveyed me, his jaw working. When he spoke he crossed to me; his voice rose with every word until he was near shouting. “That was me talking shit and you know it. I wasn’t keen to go out and find other women. I was keen to stay in bed with you. Or grab coffee with you. Or chase celebrities with you. Anything, as long as we were together.” His gaze was erratic now, wandering over my features like he didn’t know whether to kiss me or strangle me.

  I could barely speak, so enthralled by the look in his eyes. My next words were a weak whisper. “That’s bullshit.”

  “Does this feel like bullshit to you?” he growled before yanking me from my seat, cupping both my cheeks, and pulling my mouth to his.

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I’d forgotten how utterly devastating his kiss could be.

  As soon as his lips met mine, I lost the battle with myself. His tongue swept into my mouth and I knew I was helpless to stop. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted this—him—more than words could say, and when he lifted me, I locked my legs around his waist, holding on for dear life like I never wanted to let go.

  My back hit the soft, plush mattress and he climbed atop me, my thighs on either side of his waist. His tongue slid against mine in a seductive dance and the vague thought hit me of how he’d always been an amazing kisser, despite everything else. A second later he broke the kiss, swearing profusely as he lowered his head, pressing his face into my chest.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” he ground out, fingertips pushing into my back as he held me. I tried to catch my breath while I ran my hands through his hair.

  “Sean, are you all right?”

  “Yes, I just . . . I’m trying really hard not to come and embarrass myself right now, but I haven’t touched you in weeks.”

  His unexpectedly candid statement took the wind out of my sails and I almost laughed. He’d been the one to grab me and toss me on the bed, after all.

  “Then come,” I said.

  He arched a brow.

  I lifted a shoulder, too exhausted to fight off my overwhelming need for him any longer. “Maybe having sex now will make things easier at the ceremony tomorrow,” I said, like I was trying to convince myself of the idea’s merits, rationalizing like a true addict.

  Sean frowned. “What about after the ceremony?”

  I shifted, rubbing myself against him, feeling him tense. His gaze grew darker.

  I rushed to say, “Let’s just . . . Listen, let’s just get through the ceremony tomorrow without tearing each other’s clothes off. Then we’ll talk about what comes after.”

  He chuckled, some of his previous tension slipping away as he placed a soft, worshipful kiss on my lips. “That would make for some very interesting wedding photographs.”

  I couldn’t help it. I smiled at him, struck by the light, airy feeling of joy it gave me to share a moment of humor with him. “Indeed.”

  But then his humor tapered the longer he stared at me. An unusual and unmistakabl
e worry creased his forehead. “I’m not going to be satisfied with just one more time, Lucy. This isn’t goodbye.”

  I swallowed, nodding somberly, and pressed my palm to his strong jaw, needing to touch him. I whispered, “I know.”

  Heat and promise filled his gaze, his attention traced the line of my eyebrows, nose, lips, and strayed to my neck and chest. He began unbuttoning the shirt I wore and pressed hot, hungry kisses to my breasts. Taking my lace-clad, pebbled nipple between his lips, he gave it a sharp bite, and I gasped. My thoughts turned to mush as soon as he started moving down my body until his face was between my thighs. He nuzzled me there, and I let out a sharp yelp at the sensation before he flicked open the buttons and pulled off my jeans.

  “What do you want?” he asked, staring up at me as he slid a finger beneath the hem of my knickers, finding me wet.

  “You know how I like it,” I answered, my voice more air than sound.

  “Yeah,” he said, his brows drawing together in an attractively masculine and thoughtful expression. “I do, don’t I?”

  At this he pulled my underwear to the side, exposing me to his intense stare. Bending his head, he licked lightly at my clit and my entire body bucked.

  “Oh God.”

  Sean reached up, deftly unclipping my bra and pushing my shirt away from my shoulders until I was completed naked before him. With his eyes on my breasts, he began lapping at me in earnest and I closed my eyes, my head falling back into the pillows as I savored the sensation. He moved two fingers inside me and I moaned loudly at the feeling of fullness.

  Only about a minute went by before I was coming on his mouth. He sucked my clit between his lips, holding it there as the waves of my orgasm consumed me—the relief and torture of it. I noticed he was making a lot of noise, like he was enjoying making me come just as much as I enjoyed coming. But then, when he rose up on his knees, staring down at me with such dark possession, I noticed the wet patch at his crotch.

  He’d come, too.

  I couldn’t believe he’d come just from doing that to me. I knew he was a quick finisher, but I had a feeling there was more to it. Us together was so much more intense.

  Sean + Lucy = Spectacular.

  With both hands he toyed with my breasts, brushing his knuckles along the sensitive sides and making me shiver. He leaned down to kiss me softly. I tasted myself on his lips.

  “I’ll be right back,” he murmured before climbing off the bed and going to the bathroom.

  I lay there, sated and foggy-headed, as I listened to the water come on in the next room. When Sean returned he was naked, and my eyes did a leisurely sweep of his perfectly formed physique. I didn’t even try to hide my ogling.

  He smiled warmly. It was a private smile, a smile for lovers, and it made my heart clench.

  “I love when you look at me like that,” he said huskily as he came and lifted me by the hips. A second later he’d flipped us with a fluid movement so I lay on top of him.

  “Why?” I asked, still all mushy-headed.

  “It’s territorial. A look that makes me feel like I’m your man. I like the idea of being yours.”

  His words knocked me for six, and all I could do was stare at him, open-mouthed, as I wrapped my head around the fact Sean Cassidy wanted to be mine.

  What the hell?

  And why the hell did the concept sound so bloody appealing?

  “That’s . . . that’s . . . um,” I rambled, unable to think of a proper response.

  Sean chuckled. “You don’t have to say it back. I know I’m more into this than you are and that’s okay.”

  “Are you serious?” I squeaked. “All I can think about is you, Sean. I’m into this. Believe me. If it weren’t for certain circumstances, I’d be wooing you like a motherfucker right now.”

  He laughed harder, his voice full of affection. “I believe I’m the one who’s supposed to woo you.”

  “Hey, I’m a modern gal. I’m all for girls wooing boys, and vice versa. Whatever works.”

  I was vaguely aware that Sean had started rocking our bodies together. He was hard already, now there was a surprise . . . not.

  The head of his cock brushed against my clit and I shivered. It felt amazing.

  “You like that?” he whispered, staring up at me with hooded eyes as he continued to rock us.

  I bit my lip. “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Do you want me inside you?”

  “Yes, please.” I added the please because I knew he liked it when I said it; and, oddly enough, I liked saying it to him.

  His cock nudged at my entrance and I closed my eyes. He wasn’t wearing a condom and the feel of us skin on skin was too good. I’d tell him to put one on . . . in a minute. I just needed to feel this for one . . . more . . . minute.

  I was still slick and wet from when he’d gone down on me, and before I knew it he’d ever-so-easily slipped inside me.

  He was mind-blowing. His hands were on my hips, almost going the entire way around my waist.

  “Fuck, you feel incredible,” he groaned, pumping up into me.

  “Sean,” I breathed. “We didn’t . . . you forgot the condom.”

  His eyes flared in mild panic as soon as I said the words. “Shit,” he swore loudly. “If you’re not on the pill I can—”

  “No, I’m on it, it’s just . . .” I sliced my teeth across my lips, very much doubting he had the self-restraint to pull out even if he wanted to. This was the same man who complained about lasting ten whole minutes for a blow job, after all.

  Understanding seemed to dawn in his eyes, “I’m clean. I get tested all the time for work. My last one was just three weeks ago.”

  “Three weeks?”

  He frowned, his expression turning fierce. “You must know, there’s been no one but you.”

  I nodded and added my own blurted confession. “I’m clean. And there’s been no one but you either.”

  “I don’t want anyone but you,” he said, like a chant, like he was so focused on the feel of me, he hadn’t heard my words.

  “Oh,” I said, because it was all I could manage, closing my eyes again. He was still moving inside me. It was instinctual, like he couldn’t stop now that he’d started.

  “Does this feel good to you?” he asked, still so concerned about my pleasure. I couldn’t believe he’d gone from a serial one-night-stander who didn’t care at all about the satisfaction of his lovers, to a man who savored every moment of my enjoyment. Had I done this to him? The thought was both exhilarating and sobering.

  “God, yes, do you even have to ask?” I answered, my words coming out in a rush.

  “I want to be sure. It’s important to me to make you feel good.”

  “You’re thinking too much. Get out of your head and just do what your body tells you.”

  I started to ride him and he groaned, his head falling into the pillows. I opened my eyes and he was watching me. His gaze never left mine, his hands still held me tight, as we both pushed our bodies to the brink of ecstasy. A moment later he began moving his flattened out palms up and over my hips. Instinctually, I took his hands and raised them to my breasts. They covered them completely and I loved how it felt, loved feeling him on every inch of me.

  “Keep touching me,” I urged as I felt a sharp, keening pleasure formulate from the pit of my stomach and all the way down to my clit.

  He pinched my nipples and I gasped. “Yes, that feels amazing.”

  Growling, he rose up to take one nipple in his mouth, his other hand pressing into my lower back. My moans filled the room as he continued to fuck me, his other hand going down between us to find my clit.

  “Sean,” I cried out as he rubbed me, too many sensations hitting me all at once.

  “Come,” he demanded on a growl, the sound vibrating from his mouth still on my nipple right through me. His fingers kept circling my clit, and I felt the wetness between us coating him. “Come with me,” he urged again right before his mouth left my breast and sought my lips
. His kiss was wet and desperate, and when his tongue plunged inside I came violently right there with him still inside. I filled with warmth as his movements slowed and his mouth fell from mine to bite possessively at my jaw. He kept moving until he’d drained every last moment of his orgasm.

  “Jesus Christ, Lucy,” he rasped, holding me tight.

  “Sean,” I panted, wrapping my arms around his neck as we both fell back into the bed, savoring the after-effects of what was possibly the most amazing sex either one of us had ever experienced.

  I was certain of it.

  Because it wasn’t just sex . . .

  Turning us, he spooned me from behind. I loved how big and warm his body was. I loved how he nuzzled my neck. I loved how his hands were caressing and reverent.

  “Stay with me,” he said, more a soft rumble than spoken words.

  I nodded, giving myself over to it—to him—pushing away encroaching fretfulness for just a little bit longer.

  Because this was nice. It was more than nice. It was spectacular. It felt necessary.

  I liked—no, I loved—being in his arms. I loved the after just as much as I loved the during.

  At my nod, he relaxed. And after a while his breathing evened out and I realized he’d fallen asleep. A moment later my phone lit up with a call.

  Ronan.

  My heart lurched. Since it was on silent, I let the call ring out, and a minute later I saw he’d left a voicemail. Picking up the phone and rising carefully from the bed, I held it to my ear and listened.

  Hey Luce,

  Look, I know things have been hectic the past few days and we haven’t really had the chance to talk, but I wanted to apologize for how I spoke to you in the car. Annie’s right, I was being a bully. I just care about you so much and I don’t want you getting hurt by bad people. You’re your own person and I understand that you get to make your own decisions, so I’m going to try to be less of a protective oaf from now on. Well, as much as I can be. Just know I’m sorry and I’ll always be there to look out for you. Anyway, call me when you get this.