Backfield in Motion (14 page)

Bruiser leaned his head against the
headrest, pretty sure he’d just died from sheer fucking pleasure
because he couldn’t remember how to breathe, and he was pretty
certain his heart had stopped beating. Mac might have done all the
physical work, but he was exhausted from the ride.

“
The ferry will dock in Seattle in ten
minutes. Please return to the car deck,
” the captain alerted
them over the ferry’s loudspeakers.

Mac blinked several times and slowly sat up.
She wiped her face with a tissue and glanced around, as if
disoriented. Hell, he knew that feeling.

With a sigh, Bruiser pulled up his briefs
and pants.

For several long minutes, neither of them
said a word.

“It’s your turn.” Bruiser believed in giving
as good as he got.

“But we’re almost at the dock.” Mac’s eyes
were glassy and unfocused. Pretty much how he felt.

“This isn’t finished yet. Not by a long
shot. Your house or mine?” Oh, yeah, baby. They’d take this well
into the night. Sleep was greatly overrated.

“Mine. I have to feed the cat.”

Bruiser burst out laughing. “That’s my
job.”

She stared at him as if he’d gone mad. “Your
job? You don’t like cats.”

“Oh, honey, I like pussies just fine. And
yours definitely needs to be fed.”

Her slow smile was his reward. “Is that a
promise?”

“You betcha.”

Not only was it a promise, it was a
pledge.

* * * * *

Brain malfunction was an acceptable reason
for what Mac had just done and was about to do—all night long.

She glanced at Bruiser, who gripped the
steering wheel with white-knuckled concentration and stared
straight ahead. He hadn’t said a word since they’d left the ferry
terminal. Sunday evening traffic worked in their favor and in
matter of minutes they were speeding down the freeway.

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact,
it seemed to fit both their moods. Mac stared out the window,
hypnotized by the white line as it sped past. A quick glance at the
dash clock told her the night was young. It was only about six
thirty, which left plenty of sheet time with a hot man and sexually
starved woman. Oh, yeah. Stupid or not, it was going to be a good
night all night long.

She glanced at Bruiser’s face. His strong
profile with that oh-so-sexy cleft in his chin accentuated by his
more-than-a-five-o’clock shadow brought forth all kinds of naughty
fantasies, starting with his beard scraping across her face, her
nipples, her thighs. Damn, she was so wet between the legs she was
glad she wasn’t wearing slacks or there’d be visible evidence of
her arousal.

Bruiser exited the freeway and slipped one
hand off the steering wheel and up her thigh, then he rubbed her
crotch in a circular motion.

“You’re driving,” she gasped.

“Honey, it’s my turn to torture you a little
and pretty soon I’ll be driving more than this car.”

“But right now you’re driving this car—or
should be.”

“I can take care of that.” He wrenched the
wheel, sending her sprawling across his lap. “Now, that’s much
better.”

Pulling into a parking garage, he drove to
top floor, past a smattering of parked cars to a dark corner
between a concrete pillar and the wall. “So whaddya think, honey?
Will this do?”

Oh, God, would it ever.
Just get me naked
now.
“I never knew you had a thing for public sex.”

“I have a thing for all kinds of sex, and I
can’t make it home without tasting you first.” Bruiser shot her his
panty-dropping smile, and she melted all over him like chocolate
left on a dashboard on a sunny day. Taking a quick glance around,
he leaned over the console and hiked her skirt up to her waist in
front.

“Nice,” he said as he gazed down at her lacy
pink underwear. “Do you wear panties like this under your work
clothes? ‘Cause if you do I’ll never be able to work out when
you’re in the vicinity without imagining a more horizontal
workout.”

She nodded, mute but fired up for action.
Bruiser put a gentle hand on her chin. She parted her lips and
waited. He didn’t let her down. He kissed one corner of her mouth
and licked his way to the other corner before he took her mouth
with a full-on frontal assault. His lips pressed against hers, and
his glorious blond stubble rubbed across her face. His kiss was
hot, hard, and demanding, full of promise and full of expectations.
She so wanted to meet those expectations. The pretty boy and the
plain girl. What a weird pair. What a perfect pair. Chemistry
worked in mysterious ways.

Bruiser cupped the back of her head as he
deepened the kiss like he wanted to eat her up. His other hand
didn’t stay idle. He slipped it under the crotch of her panties and
found her wet and willing. Pulling back for a moment, Bruiser
offered a slow, knowing smile.

“You’re wet for me.”

Mac nodded and pulled his face back to hers,
marauding his mouth like a female conqueror. Bruiser didn’t
protest, not one damn bit. His finger slipped deep inside her, and
he moved it in and out while his tongue made love to her mouth.

Just when she was certain she’d die, the
tease stopped kissing her. Mac moaned in protest until he pulled
her legs across the console, grasped her waist and lifted her hips
into the air. With her legs draped across his shoulders, he held
her crotch to his face and began to feast.

And oh my God, did he
feast
. Mac
turned into a limp rag doll, not caring that the console pressed
into her back and her toes were hitting the driver’s-side window.
Nothing mattered, and any amount of discomfort made it all worth it
to have Bruiser’s face buried between her legs.

He slipped his tongue between her folds and
plunged it deep while sucking her juices. Reinserting his finger,
Bruiser used it along with his tongue to drive her to the brink of
insanity, up, up, up, until she swore she’d die because no mortal
female could survive such heavenly torture.

And he wasn’t done yet. He added another
finger, while his tongue circled then sucked on her clit, over and
over. Circle. Suck. Circle. Suck.

Despite her discomfort, Mac squeezed her
eyes shut and clung to the seat, as waves of pleasure rolled
through her body like an ocean tide on a stormy day.

Mac’s body convulsed with senseless
pleasure. Bruiser was unrelenting, he kept up the pressure and
drove her deep into an abyss of desire she didn’t know was
possible. The pressure built up until she had to release it or die.
Mac cried out and wrapped her legs around his neck while the most
mind-blowing, incredible orgasm slammed into her with a fierce
intensity.

Bruiser repositioned her, holding her to
him, until the shudders subsided and she floated safely back to the
rational world. When she finally met his gaze, he kissed her and
she tasted herself on him.

“Wow.” That was all she could manage to
say.

“There’s more to come. Halftime
entertainment is over. Let’s finish this game.” Bruiser helped her
lower her shaky body back into her seat. She fumbled with the
seatbelt and closed her eyes as he drove out of the parking garage
into the waning daylight.

Mac couldn’t wait to get home to a more
conventional place to do the real thing, but she suspected there
would be nothing conventional about sex with Bruiser, even if it
was in a bed after dark, just as there was nothing conventional
about the man himself. All day she’d seen glimpses of the real man
under the shallow persona, revealing more than Mac wanted to know
about him. Knowing more might make her fall deeper, might make her
crush more real, might do some irreparable damage—damage she
couldn’t afford.

* * * * *

Bruiser turned down Mac’s street, ready for
round three, the round where he buried himself inside her willing
body, and Mac delivered a knockout punch that rendered them both
winners. He’d sat on his annoying conscience and kept it muffled so
it was only a slight nagging presence. With his mother and sister,
he’d become a pro at shutting out nagging—but then most men with
women in their lives could most likely say the same damn thing.

Right now his cock has assumed command, and
none of his other body parts, including his brain, had any interest
in an uprising. Yeah, the only thing rising would be his dick.
Bruiser couldn’t wipe the stupid-assed grin from his face. He’d
waited too long for Mac, and he rarely waited for any woman.

Only—crap. Double crap. Fuck. Damn.

Bruiser couldn’t believe his eyes. He
pounded his fist on the dashboard in frustration. A pickup was
parked in Mac’s driveway. “What the fuck?” The words slipped out
before he could stop them.

Mac’s hand went to her mouth and she glanced
guiltily at him, disappointment dulling her brown eyes. “I
completely forgot that I’d promised my dad that I’d go with him
tonight.”

“Well, hell.” That just about said it all.
“How long do you think he’s been waiting for you?”

“He’s probably been here all day stalking
the neighbors.”

“Stalking your neighbors?”

Mac sighed as if she didn’t want to go
there, but Bruiser did, dammit. If his night was going to be
abruptly cut short, he wanted the details—every damn last one of
them.

“Mac, why would he stalk your
neighbors?”

“Because that was Will’s house, and Sonja
and Ben live there now.”

“Your brother’s ex-wife—the woman you
suspect murdered him—lives next door to you? You never told me that
part.”

“Twisted, isn’t it?”

“A little,” he admitted.

“I’m not moving. These two properties
belonged to my great-grandparents, and I’ll be damned if I’m going
to let Sonja drive me off my birthright. She goes before I do.”

“I get it.” Bruiser really did, yet living
with that constant reminder might make family ties not worth it.
Talk about overwhelming drama the average person didn’t need.

“So your father expects you to go with him
tonight? This late?” Bruiser shook his head, attempting to clear
out the haze.

“He won’t care how late it is as long as
Trudy is still at the bar.”

“Is she his girlfriend?” Bruiser felt like
he’d missed the most important episode of a TV series and had no
frame of reference as to what the hell was going on.

“I wish it were that simple.” Mac rubbed her
temple as if she had a raging headache. “He thinks Trudy, Sonja’s
former best friend, knows something and is ready to spill the
beans. I don’t buy it. She’s just milking him for money.”

“So I guess our night it over then.” Bruiser
let out a disappointed sigh and parked in the driveway behind her
father’s pickup. Disappointment didn’t quite cover it. Sure, he was
damn disappointed about not getting any more action tonight, but
deeper down in that place he never went, especially with women, he
enjoyed her company and wasn’t ready to go home to his lonely
condo.

“Probably. Here comes Dad now.” Small
consolation, but at least Mac sounded as miserable as he felt.

Mac’s father strode across the yard and
rushed to the passenger door and flung it open. “Mac, have you been
following up on something? Did you find out anything new?” Mac’s
dad didn’t acknowledge Bruiser. The man’s bloodshot eyes gleamed
with a fierce intensity. Not a competitive intensity like Bruiser
was accustomed to seeing, more like a guy on the verge of a one-way
trip to the nuthouse. His unkempt hair and wrinkled clothes only
punctuated Bruiser’s initial assessment.

“I went to brunch at Bruiser’s mother’s
house. I forgot about our plans.” Mac glanced nervously at Bruiser,
as if she wished he’d leave rather than bear witness to her family
failings. Well, she’d had her shot with his dysfunctional family,
and Bruiser wasn’t going anywhere. Fair was fair.

“We always have plans on weekends. You know
that.” Her father glanced at Bruiser as if he’d just noticed him,
then turned back to Mac, obviously disinterested in anything that
didn’t have to do with his lost son. “We still have plenty of time.
Trudy’s caving; I can just feel it. We’re on the verge of
something.”

With a heavy sigh, Mac interrupted her
father’s ramblings. “Bruiser, this is my dad, Craig Hernandez. Dad,
this is Bruiser Mackey.”

Craig blinked a few times, scratched his
cheek, and squinted at Bruiser. “I know you. You were Will’s
favorite player. He liked how you play balls to the wall with no
concern for your own safety. Will was like that, too, you
know.”

Bruiser nodded, casting Mac a look that said
Is this guy okay?
She lifted one shoulder and said nothing.
Mac got out of the car, and Bruiser debated whether or not to beat
cleats or stay for the long haul.

“Bruiser, thanks for the ride.” Mac
dismissed him, just like that, like she hadn’t been sucking his
dick into a oblivion a few short hours ago or he hadn’t been
enjoying her pussy. After all they’d just done together in his SUV,
she apparently still wanted him gone. Bruiser didn’t like that. He
wasn’t sure why it bugged him, but it did.

“Come with us. A fresh set of eyes is always
welcome. You might catch something we’ve missed,” Craig said.

“Dad, Bruiser has better things to do.” Mac
shot him a look that said
Just leave.

“I, uh, I doubt I’d be much help.” Bruiser
hesitated, torn between a stubborn inclination to stick around and
his don’t-get-involved mantra.

“Of course, you will.” Craig wasn’t taking
no for an answer, that was pretty obvious.

Tossing a tough-shit grin at Mac, Bruiser
nodded and followed her father to the pickup. Reluctantly, Mac
followed and got in the backseat. Bruiser settled in the passenger
seat, hoping like hell they didn’t smell too much like sex. Not
that it mattered. Craig seemed completely oblivious to anything
that didn’t have to do with Will.