Defending Hearts

by Rebecca Crowley

  “It’s a good thing I didn’t know you were wearing this or we wouldn’t have made it to the reception.” He swept his thumbs over her nipples, visible through the material and already tightened into peaks.

  “You haven’t seen the bottom half yet.” She felt the same smile that had come over her mouth when she’d picked up the set from the clearance rack.

  His eyes darkened and he pushed the dress over her hips, down her thighs and onto the floor. She stepped out of it, turned her back on him, then bent from the waist to pick it up, parting her legs to give him the full view the sheer panties allowed.

  “Be careful with this. It was expensive,” she reminded him with teasing tartness as she straightened and laid the dress out on the desk.

  She turned to look at Oz, whose face was tight with hunger. For several seconds they stared at each other in silence, then he grabbed her by the waist and tossed her on the bed.

  “Are you in a hurry?” she asked sweetly, propping up on one elbow as he shucked off his shirt and raced to unbutton his trousers with trembling hands, nearly tripping as he stripped down. She took one look at the bulge in his tight briefs and moaned aloud as hot, urgent need thudded between her legs.

  He climbed on top of her and jerked the cups of her bra down over her breasts, teasing each nipple with his tongue—left, then right, then left and back again until she grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked up his head to end the torment.

  “I want you so much,” she told him breathlessly as he roughly took off her bra and closed warm fingers over her breasts. “I don’t think I can wait.”

  “I won’t make you. We have all night.”

  The thought of all those hours of Oz’s body made her even wetter than his touch. She pressed her thighs together, desperate to ease the ache between her legs, but he sat up and skimmed her panties down and off, then pried her knees apart.

  She pushed up on her elbows and watched him lick his lips, then drag his tongue along her swollen core. Her head fell back and she shuddered, the ceiling blurring in her vision.

  “Fuck, Kate, five minutes of foreplay and you’re as wet as a week of rain,” he said huskily, running a testing finger between her folds.

  “I’ve been wet for you all night, boy.”

  His eyes flashed and his jaw clenched and he assailed her with his tongue, his lips, his teeth, his thumb. She groaned and bucked and arched off the bed, incoherent with pleasure, inhuman with hammering need. She fisted her hands in the sheets and at the last second she gathered herself enough to peer down the length of her body at him, at this sexy, smart, successful man devoting all of his energy to making her come.

  Their eyes met and something jolted between them, more powerful than lust, more durable than passion. Then he swirled the tip of his tongue around her clit and she lost herself, every muscle stiffening, her teeth clenching, her ears roaring with the unstoppable force of her orgasm.

  When the world regained its normal proportions Oz lay next to her, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her stomach.

  She took a deep breath, knowing he watched the way her breasts heaved up and down. “You’re wicked, Terim. Wicked and evil.”

  “I’m not wicked. I’m the Wizard.” He grinned.

  “You’re trouble, is what you are.” She reached for the waistband of his briefs, already plotting her revenge, but he moved her hand away.

  She rolled over to face him, immediately concerned. “Is something wrong?”

  He shook his head, running a comforting hand down her arm. “Are you good? That felt good?”

  “Mind-blowing. That’s why it’s my turn to—”

  “No more turns,” he told her quietly. “I want to make love to you, Kate.”

  Her breath stalled in her throat, then left her lungs in a dizzying whoosh. “You mean, like…”

  “Have sex. With you. Now.”

  Her heart beat wildly as she tried to reconcile the two warring forces pulling in opposite directions inside her head. One was her hot, demanding desire. The other was her instinct to protect him, to protect both of them, from making a decision they might regret.

  “Hold on.” She put her hand over his on the bed and lifted her chin to meet his eyes. “Are you sure about this? Have you definitely thought this through? Weddings can do funny things to people, and seeing your friends—”

  “I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he interrupted.

  “And?”

  “I bought condoms.”

  She bit her lower lip. “Since we’ve been in Boston? Because sometimes when you’re away from home things can seem—”

  “Before we left. I packed them in my suitcase.”

  She blinked, racking the shrinking part of her brain that wanted to convince him not to go ahead with this for another reason before it was completely drowned out by her loud, lustful thoughts.

  “I’m sober and I’m certain,” he said seriously, his eyes never leaving hers. “It’s not about the wedding or my friends or anything but you. You, Kate. I want this to happen with you. I don’t care how long this lasts, or what happens tomorrow. I want to give you something I’ve never given anyone else. Right now.”

  Then came the tears, spilling hot and unbidden from the corners of her eyes. No one had ever trusted her with anything so significant, seen her as anything more than a diversion. That Oz wanted to share with her what he hadn’t shared with the scores of other women who would’ve gladly taken it… She could barely comprehend the magnitude of his choice.

  He murmured her name and took her in his arms, brushing the tears from her cheeks as he kissed her slowly and sweetly. “What’s wrong?”

  She took a shaky breath. “I don’t want you to make a mistake.”

  “I won’t,” he said firmly. “Remember, I told you I’d know when I met her? I know. I want this.”

  She touched his face, traced its handsome angles, then moved her hands to his hips and slid her fingers under the band of his briefs.

  He shivered as she touched him, tracing his smooth, straight length. She kissed him again, indulging in one more grip of his shaft, then pulled back and met his gaze.

  “You’re sure?”

  He nodded.

  He stood and tugged off his briefs, then crossed the room to his suitcase, digging through the immaculately folded clothes to produce a small cardboard box. Kate watched him walk back to the bed, her nipples puckering and her mouth watering as she took in his erection. She’d fantasized about having him inside her so many times, but even in her wildest imaginings she never thought it would actually happen.

  He sat beside her. She took the box from his hand and removed a foil square. She tore it open and leaned over, ducking her head to run her tongue up his shaft before pinching the top of the condom and sliding it on.

  Oz’s expression was a mix of trepidation and excitement. The combination aroused her even more. This strong, confident man whose body was his career had chosen her to take him over the final threshold of his sexuality.

  She wouldn’t let him down. She’d show him she deserved him. All of him.

  “Are you okay to… I mean…are you ready…for me?”

  She smiled, guiding his hand between her legs so he could feel her slickness. “I want you inside me. Just the thought is soaking me all over again.”

  He growled and she eased onto her back as he moved over her. She reached between them and found his erection, and stroked the head against her core.

  He watched her spread her legs, bring his tip just inside her and then withdraw it, the condom glistening with her arousal. She brought the tip back to her entrance and met his eyes with a question in her own.

  “Yes,” he managed raggedly. She put her other hand on his hip and urged him inside, slowly, slowly sheathing every inch of him.

  She couldn’t stifle a primal, g
uttural moan at the tantalizing pressure of his body within hers. He stretched her, filled her, and she clung to every scrap of self-control to stay still when every instinct screamed at her to wrap her legs around his waist and fuck him as hard and fast as she could.

  He trembled above her and throbbed inside her. He breathed heavily, harshly, and she could feel the tension suffusing his body.

  She almost laughed when she realized what he was doing, and smoothed a reassuring hand down his cheek. “Come in me. I don’t care how quickly it happens. We have all night, remember?”

  He grunted in response, every muscle in his arms standing out.

  She began to rock beneath him, pressing her palm against his rear to encourage him to move with her. Slowly he loosened up, dropping more closely against her and bringing his hand to her thigh. She murmured her pleasure, savoring his thickness, the smooth rhythm of his chest grazing her nipples, and the lower part of his abdomen brushing against her clit.

  He groaned against her temple, a telltale sign that he was close, and she increased the pace. She wouldn’t come this time—he was nearly there, she could tell—but she didn’t care. Squeezing him tightly, knowing she was the first woman to possess him like this, the first one he’d stroke from within and spill his completion inside, was more satisfying than a lifetime of climaxes. He chose her. She was unique. Special. Unparalleled in his life so far.

  As he was unparalleled in hers.

  Tears welled again as he clenched her leg and bared his teeth against her forehead, swearing and then holding his breath as his thrusts became frantic, messy, giving way as his body froze and he held himself deep inside her.

  “Just like that,” she encouraged him, ignoring the tears of pride and love that spilled over her cheeks.

  He said her name desperately, pleadingly as he obeyed, digging his fingers into her hair, holding her tightly against him. She clung to him as he arched and stiffened, until his climax receded and he quivered, until his arms gave out and he flopped down beside her.

  “Fuck,” he roared. He pulled out, disposed of the condom and collapsed on the bed next to her.

  “Was it how you expected it would be?”

  “No.” He stroked an affectionate finger under her chin. “Ten thousand times better. A million times better. A hundred billion times better.”

  “Do you wish you’d done it earlier?”

  “No. It was good because of you. It wouldn’t have been the same with anyone else.”

  She kissed his forehead, his nose, his lips as her heart quietly thrilled. “You have no idea, Terim. Wait ’til I get on top.”

  Chapter 18

  Oz woke to his phone buzzing against the side table. He fumbled in the pitch-dark hotel room to sweep it up, squinting at the text on the screen.

  Downstairs @ bfast, coming?

  On way he replied to Glynn, replaced his phone and rolled over to wrap his arm around Kate. She didn’t stir, her breathing quiet and even.

  He pressed his face into her hair, inhaling her sweet, strawberry scent. She was warm and soft in his arms, and he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and go back to sleep. But he told Glynn last night he’d meet him for breakfast and he couldn’t leave him waiting downstairs.

  With tremendous effort he slid out of bed, stretching languidly. He yanked on shorts and a T-shirt and shoved his feet into a pair of sneakers.

  He glanced at Kate’s sleeping form, then found a pen and notepad with the hotel’s logo and wrote on the blank page.

  Went downstairs for breakfast, come join me! :-)

  He tore off that sheet of paper, crumpled it and tossed it into the bin. Too eager.

  Downstairs. See you soon.

  He shook his head as that note joined its predecessor in the trash. Too unemotional.

  Downstairs at breakfast w/ Glynn, will save you a seat.

  Satisfied, he signed it Ö and slid it onto the table next to her side of the bed. He shoved a key card into his pocket and quietly let himself out of the room.

  When Oz turned the corner into the lobby, Glynn stood by the two steps leading to the sunken dining area where breakfast was served. He looked up from his phone as Oz approached.

  “Sorry, forgot to set my alarm,” Oz explained, then gave his room number to the staff member at the entrance.

  Glynn mumbled something unintelligible in response and Oz looked more closely at his friend. “A little worse for wear this morning? Too much air guitar?”

  “Too much wine, beer, champagne, tequila—I drank everything in sight.” Glynn scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “I need so much bacon and coffee, and I need it yesterday.”

  “I’m here now. You’re in a safe place. We’re going to get you through this.”

  Together they walked to the end of the long buffet table. Oz loaded his plate with fresh fruit and yogurt while Glynn selected two chocolate muffins from a large basket. Eventually they came to the omelet station, where Glynn scowled at Oz’s order of egg whites with spinach and tomato, then asked for cheese, chorizo, and bacon in his.

  “You’re unusually chipper this morning,” Glynn remarked as they waited for their omelets.

  Oz shrugged. “I stayed off the booze last night. International friendly coming up.”

  “You know you’re never going to get to the World Cup with Sweden,” Glynn grumbled, not for the first time. “You’re eligible to play for Turkey and they’re in an easier group. I don’t know why—”

  “Because I’m Swedish, that’s why. Plus you can’t switch once you’ve declared.”

  “Anyway.” His friend peered at him. “That’s not it. You’re happy. Like, disturbingly happy.”

  “I don’t think I am.”

  “You’re grinning.”

  Oh shit, he was. “No, I’m not,” he disagreed, forcing his mouth into a line.

  Glynn stared at him as they collected their omelets and found an empty table. His friend narrowed his eyes, then widened them in comprehension.

  “Oh my God. You had sex with Kate.”

  Oz froze, uncertain whether to confirm or deny. He planned to tell Glynn eventually, and frankly it took all his self-control not to shout it joyfully across the dining room, but since the three of them had to travel back to Atlanta together today, he’d planned to wait and save Kate any potential awkwardness on the journey.

  “Silence implies consent, Terim. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  Dammit. He couldn’t lie, but at the same time he didn’t—

  Glynn snapped his fingers in triumph. “I knew it. One look at your face this morning and I fucking knew it.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” Oz replied, hushed.

  “Not a big deal? It took you twenty-seven years to decide and now you’re wearing a grin the size of Boston Harbor. It is a big deal, my friend, a very big deal.”

  “What’s a big deal?”

  Oz had sudden, sharp empathy for deer finding themselves face-to-face with oncoming headlights as he turned at the sound of Nedda’s voice.

  She looked between the two of them. “What? What happened?”

  They turned to each other, then back to her. She frowned, then her eyes rounded much like Glynn’s had moments earlier.

  “You had sex with Kate,” she whispered, her tone harsh with incredulity.

  Oz caught Glynn’s muttered curse at his side, then watched in horror as Nedda burst into tears.

  Oz shoved his plate at his friend and slid his arm around Nedda’s shoulders, ushering her out of the dining room and up the steps to the back of the lobby. He found a quiet corner along the railing that looked into the restaurant and stood with his back facing out, trying to give them some degree of privacy.

  “Come on, Neds, don’t do this,” he urged. She pressed her face into his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, shaking hi
s head at how quickly his morning had gone wrong.

  Last night had been one of the best of his life. Kate was beautiful, skillful, and unbelievably passionate. She moved as fast or as slowly as he wanted and treated the situation sensitively without ever embarrassing him or making him feel inexperienced.

  Most importantly, making love to her turned out to be more of an emotional milestone than a physical one. They connected on a level he couldn’t articulate, and which he’d never experienced before. It was so much more than friction, or pleasure. When he was inside her and their eyes met, he knew he’d never be the same. He didn’t want to be the same.

  Just thinking about Kate had blood pumping to his groin and he broke away from Nedda before she got a very wrong idea.

  “Tell me it’s not true,” she said, sniffing. “You were fibbing to impress Glynn. You didn’t really sleep with her.”

  He exhaled, irritated. Since when was this anyone’s business but his? But Nedda was having a rough time, she was on the rebound, and he still cared about her as a friend. Telling her to get her nose out of his life and move on was the worst approach he could take.

  “I did,” he confirmed.

  “Last night? For the first time?”

  He nodded.

  Her face crumpled with fresh tears. “Why?”

  “Why do you think?” he asked shortly, fighting to contain his exasperation.

  “You’re not in love with her,” she insisted. When he didn’t reply she continued, “Oz, please, be serious.”

  “I am serious,” he replied, and she shook her head.

  “You’re not thinking,” she countered, her voice rising in volume. “We were together for two years. You slept with her after, what, a few weeks?”

  “This is different, we’re—”

  “Damn right it’s different,” she shot back, ignoring his gesture for her to quiet down. “As women we’re completely different. I get that she’s sweet, has a cute accent, and nice legs. She’s also probably emotionally and intellectually uncomplicated. I get that. I see the appeal. But I’m amazed that you don’t see what else I see: the complete absence of any future between you two.”