I leaned down and grabbed a condom from my pocket. I wasn’t wearing briefs but I’d at least come prepared.
“Presumptuous?” she said against my mouth.
“Absolutely,” I said honestly as she ground her hips eagerly against me. I groaned when she raked her hands down my chest, her fingernails leaving trails of red all the way to where our bodies were about to join. I hissed in pleasure and grabbed her hair, pulling her body closer to me with one hand, the other placed on her hip.
“This is crazy,” she whispered.
“I love crazy,” I said back.
And our eyes locked again with something I didn’t fully understand, something that told me the universe was giving us a chance, a moment in time, to come clean, to confess before it was too late.
And then the moment shifted.
And she was shifting beneath me.
And I was inside her.
Wondering where she’d been my entire life.
“Oh wow, okay . . .” She gripped my biceps like she was either in extreme pleasure or extreme pain. I stopped moving, letting her body adjust, letting mine slow the hell down.
I slowed my movements, I felt her everywhere, her body sang to me with each pump. I was drunk on her feel, the way she clenched onto me each time I tried to push or pull—she was everywhere and everything. “Hugo . . . faster . . .”
I hated Hugo.
Was gonna kill him off soon.
But not now.
Not when she was clenching tight around me.
Not when she was crying out with each thrust.
Not when my own control finally snapped as I sang praises to Ashley and her quirky mouth and her impulsive kiss.
The high that followed was unparalleled, I reached heaven in her arms, and I vowed to visit again and again and again.
Chapter Seven
MACKENZIE
“You should have told me,” Hugo said in that delicious accent as he stood from the bed and walked naked into the bathroom. I wasn’t a prude, but the fact that he was so free with his body shocked me a bit, even though I’d just touched every inch of it. Even though he’d literally been inside me seconds ago.
The bathroom light illuminated his path back to the bed as he grabbed a warm cloth and rubbed it down my legs. I clenched them together and squeezed my eyes shut only to be on the receiving end of another wonderful kiss that tasted like the Mexican heat with a heavy dose of wine. I licked his lips and relaxed as his hands moved between my thighs.
“Stop clenching,” he whispered against my mouth. “Had I known you were a virgin, I would have . . .”
“You wouldn’t have,” I said softly. “And it’s a long story.”
“A long story that makes absolutely”—he rubbed the cloth between my thighs and then lay down next to me, propping a pillow beneath his head—“no sense.”
I leaned on my elbow, wincing as my fingers caught in my hair, which was a tangled mess. I didn’t even want to know how horrible I looked, but the feeling in my soul? Hot. So hot. I was ready to jump all over his olive skin and kiss my way down his body. “How about I just had a very . . . careful . . . boyfriend?”
“Are you asking me?”
I laughed. “No, I’m telling. It’s not important, though.”
It was important, but something about sharing those intimate details felt far riskier than sex. Maybe I had it all backward, but I wasn’t ready to go there, not yet.
“Hmm.” He flicked my lips with his fingers and then pulled me against his chest until I was on top of him, skin against skin, straddling his legs. “I guess his loss is my gain.”
“Glass half full.” I winked.
He ran a calloused hand over my ass and squeezed. “Absolutely.”
Suddenly nervous, I cleared my throat and waited. I was in completely unfamiliar territory with this stranger. Six months ago I wouldn’t even go on a vacation by myself let alone jump into bed with a guy who could be a potential serial killer.
“What are you thinking about?” His grin was both gorgeous and teasing all at the same time. Where did they make guys like this? Clearly not in the US, but still. His beanie was off, allowing me access to his hair. I tugged a few pieces and then leaned down and brushed a kiss across his lips.
“You know.” I kissed him again. “You should model.”
His lips twitched. “Is that so?”
“Yeah.” I ran my fingers through his hair again and locked onto his golden eyes. “You’d make millions, though you’re clearly not struggling if you booked the penthouse, hmm.”
“Fishing for information?”
“Yeah, but in a passive-aggressive way that sounds more cute than stalker.”
“Or more stalker than cute?” he teased, nipping at my lower lip before bringing it into his mouth and sucking. “How about we kiss . . . we make love—”
He just said make love.
My heart thudded against my chest then started skipping.
“And then we’ll just do it over again . . .” he whispered in my ear. “That is, if you aren’t too sore and tired.”
“I’m ready.” I said it so fast I nearly crawled under the bed and disappeared.
His eyes almost closed completely as he slid a hand down my ass and then found my core. I jerked in surprise.
Hugo grinned. “Just making sure.”
“Oh yeah? And what’s your vote?”
He sucked on two of his fingers, the ones that had touched me, and whispered in a gravelly voice. “Ready.”
Chapter Eight
SLADE
For a virgin, she sure was insatiable.
She was lying naked next to me, all soft curves and long brown hair with strands of gold that looked like they’d been naturally highlighted by the sun. Just beautiful.
I was often surrounded by beauty.
And I appreciated it.
But it paled in comparison to her.
I got up and stretched. My phone said three a.m., and she’d just fallen asleep a half hour ago, but I’d lain awake worrying.
Worrying about my old reputation.
Worrying about my new one.
The team.
The relocation.
And what the media was saying about my leaving my old team. I’d left to get away, but they twisted things to sell stories. And according to everyone else in the world, my ego couldn’t take the obvious pay cut I was going to be getting after not winning the cup last year.
Like one man was responsible for that. Besides, my mind had been on other things, and soccer, it doesn’t allow you to be human and have emotions, not during a game. No. Winning is all that matters.
The more I thought about it, the more my chest tightened until I was trying to breathe deep just to get my anxiety under control.
I clutched my phone in my hand and walked out to the balcony as a warm breeze filled the air.
Maybe this woman would be the start of something different for me.
Maybe this would go beyond vacation.
I looked over my shoulder as she rolled to her side and made a mewling noise in her sleep.
Grinning, I turned back toward the ocean and straightened my shoulders.
“I’m going to keep you,” I said to myself, my voice carrying across the wind like the universe heard my promise and was going to help me keep it no matter what.
I felt it in my soul.
There was more here in this moment. More than sex, more than coincidence. Maybe I’d finally found my other half, halfway across the world.
I leaned against the wall and thought about the possibilities as my phone started buzzing in my hand.
Mom?
It was late.
I answered quickly. “Everything okay?”
Silence, and then, “No, no, Slade, no.” She hiccupped. “Your father—”
I sighed. “I know, he’s worried. Things will be fine.”
“No.” She started to sob softly into the phone. “Slade, your father is—”
“Don’t say it.” My breathing turned shallow as I gripped the phone tighter, her sobs making my stomach sick, my heart fearful. “He’s fine, he just left a message today, I was going to call him back, he’s fine, he’s probably just not answering his phone, he’s—”
“Slade!” she interrupted with a wail. “Your father is dead.”
Your. Father. Is. Dead.
I swayed on my feet. “No, no, I don’t . . . I can’t.” I ran my hands through my hair.
“His heart just . . . the doctor said it stopped before the paramedics got there . . . he was going to surprise you . . . for your first practice, he was packing—”
I couldn’t listen anymore.
I squeezed my eyes shut as a tear ran down my cheek. My stomach roiled while my heart slowed in my chest and then, as if it no longer wanted to pump, almost completely stilled.
Gone. He was gone.
My biggest supporter.
My best friend.
The only person who had ever truly understood me.
“Slade, are you there?”
“Yeah,” I croaked. “I’ll be on the first flight out. I love you.”
“I love you.” She sobbed. “I’ll see you soon. Everything’s going to be fine, everything’s going to be fine . . .”
She didn’t believe it.
And neither did I.
My father was the glue.
He was the leader.
He was everything.
And now?
He was gone.
I walked on hollow legs back to the small wall dividing the penthouses. Numbness settling in, I jumped over, grabbed my bag, and threw things in, not caring if I left anything.
I didn’t care.
I just didn’t care.
And when I thought about the girl next door, still sleeping, I couldn’t bring myself to do anything except touch the wall dividing us and cast blame.
She was the reason I was so distracted.
The reason I hadn’t called him back.
Women.
I thought my ex had cost me everything.
But the stranger sleeping in that bed—had cost me the most.
Chapter Nine
MACKENZIE
Cold silky sheets wrapped around my legs as I stretched my arms overhead and felt the spot next to me. The pillows were gone. And the space was empty. I opened my eyes and yawned. My body hurt in the worst and best way possible as I slowly moved my feet to the floor, grabbed the sheet, wrapped it around my body, and walked around the room.
The sliding glass door was open. I frowned. I hadn’t opened it last night. Maybe Hugo went to his room to shower? I didn’t really think anything of it.
Until I heard a vacuum.
Frowning, I peeked over the divider between our two penthouses. Two maids were working tirelessly around the patio, while another was inside vacuuming the living room.
Panic seized my chest. “Um, hola!” I called like the idiot American I was.
One of the ladies turned to me and grinned. “We speak English, miss.”
I mentally rolled my eyes at myself, of course they did, this was Puerto Vallarta. It wasn’t like we were in the heart of Mexico, and even then. I gave my head a shake.
“Sorry.” I finally found my voice. “The man, staying here? Do you know where he went?”
She gave me a curious look and then her eyes roamed over my naked body, the sheet barely covered anything. Understanding dawned on her face. “I’m so sorry, he’s no longer here.”
“He died!” I yelled and covered my mouth with my hands. I’d heard about Americans getting killed by drug cartels in Mexico, but I didn’t know it was true! “Did anyone else get taken?” I gulped as panic seized my lungs. Where the hell was Liam Neeson when you needed him?
She smiled softly. “No, no, you misunderstand, he checked out of the hotel. We were told to get the room ready for the next guest. That’s all I know.”
“Oh.” My stomach sank while my heart thundered in my chest. “Right, I must have gotten my days confused too, I thought he was leaving . . . umm, tomorrow.”
She just smiled like she knew I was lying.
“Thank you.” I forced a smile as my heart lodged in my throat. I stumbled back to my room and sat on the bed, putting my head in my hands. I would not cry. I’d cried too many times over men.
Too many times to count.
It had just been a one-night stand.
Best sex of my life—not that I had anything to measure it against.
Kisses shared with someone that I’d compare every single man to for as long as I lived.
I’d never been a risk taker.
And the minute I decided to live on the wild side, I’d slept with a complete stranger, who’d taken my virginity and then bailed.
Why the hell hadn’t I just bought a lottery ticket?
I let out a laugh.
The laugh lasted two seconds before it turned into weeping as I lay down across the bed and pressed my face against the place he’d been snuggled up next to me.
Men.
All they did was hurt me.
And I truly didn’t think his was intentional.
He’d just seen someone who wanted a good time.
And gave it.
So. Stupid.
Stupid girl.
I wiped the mascara from under my eyes, slowly rose to my feet, and made my way into the bathroom.
When I looked at the floor there was a pool of linen. His clothes from last night.
I kicked them in disgust.
Then picked up the shirt and inhaled.
My body rocked with memories of his mouth, his hands.
I had been left at the altar.
If I could get through that, I could get through anything.
Except my treacherous heart kept demanding that the universe answer the one question I’d been asking for years.
Why was I never enough to fight for?
Chapter Ten
SLADE
Two weeks later
I fucking hate funerals almost as much as I hate traveling coach. The only seat I was able to get was on a plane with over three hundred passengers and a high school dance squad who had more pep than normal teenage girls should have. A headache pulsed between my ears as the plane took off for the States.
I put on my noise-canceling headphones, pulled my beanie over my head, and closed my eyes.
I hadn’t slept in days.
And every time I closed my eyes I saw his body.
His calm face.
The casket.
The tears in my mother’s eyes.
And the pathetic condolences from teammates who suddenly gave a shit about me because my father died.
I didn’t remember what I said. I only remembered standing in front of a room full of strangers who wore smiles of pity and telling them how incredible my father was, and they pretended to understand, they pretended to care with their nice words and side hugs, but I knew the truth.
I was alone.
Mom was trying to be strong for me.
And I was trying to be strong for her.
But two broken pieces can’t be strong for each other when they don’t even know how to heal themselves.
Someone kicked my seat.
My eyes slammed open as kick after kick maimed my back, forcing my body to jerk toward the seat in front of me.
I tore off my headphones and turned around. “Do you mind?”
I’d been groomed from a young age to be careful in public, someone always has a phone, someone is always watching. My father had drilled it into me so much that I was afraid to piss at restaurants.
But at that moment, I had no more fucks to give.
I had just buried him.
I’d buried him!
Tears burned my eyes as the gaping teen narrowed his eyes and then kicked again.
“That’s it.” I stood, hovering over him.
He started choking. Little shit probably
accidentally swallowed that wad of gum he’d been blowing and popping endlessly while kicking my chair.
“Sir?” One of the flight attendants approached. “The seat belt sign is still on.” She pointed to the light above my head while I continued my stare-down with the punk kid.
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “But can you please tell this little jackass not to kick my seat anymore?”
“Hey now.” His dad finally spoke up. He had a brown mustache and a Yankees hat on backward, and I could smell the faint aroma of weed on his clothes. “He’s not hurting anybody.”
“Really?” I crossed my arms.
“Sir.” The flight attendant flashed me a dazzling smile. “Why don’t you take a seat, and I’ll see if I can move you elsewhere.”
“Fine.” I sat down, and then finally looked around the cabin. Several phones were directed at me.
“Fuck.” I put a blanket over my head and stayed that way the rest of the flight. And when paparazzi met me at the airport asking why I was yelling at an innocent kid and if I would ever play again.
I snapped.
And hit a photographer.
So far? My continuing soccer career in the States?
Not going well.
Chapter Eleven
MACKENZIE
Four weeks after Puerto Vallarta
The country club was the same.
I was the one that was different.
Changed for better or for worse.
I squeezed my eyes shut as laughter and chatter filled the large dining room. The scents of perfume and steak filled the air.
It was all the same.
I felt altered.
“Are you sure you’re not coming back?” Dad slid a glass of wine toward me. It was fresh hell not grabbing the perfect crystal stem, lifting the red liquid to my lips, and tasting.
It was my passion.
But if working with my passion meant I had to see Alton’s face day in and day out with his brand-new girlfriend who had been hired to work on the marketing team, well, hard pass.
“I’m sure.” I gulped some water then reached for my wineglass only to remember it was empty. I begrudgingly grabbed the one he’d slid to me and took a small sip. Flavor burst in my mouth. I would miss this.
Risky Play Page 4