Bad Traveler (16 page)

She interlaced her fingers with his, surprised at the unexpected affection. “I missed you, but I’m not ready for this. Now, would the smell of coffee wake you up, or should we stick with orange juice?”

“I dream of coffee sometimes, and the beautiful woman who sells me the best breakfast in town. Let me pull out the coffeemaker, and then I’ll get dressed.”

“You don’t have to. Get dressed I mean.” She peered into the small, open kitchen. “I don’t see your coffeemaker on the countertop, and if you want eggs, you’ll need to find a pan for me as well.”

After releasing her, he sniffed at the bags. “I smell baked goods. I don’t need eggs.”

He followed her into the kitchen, reaching over her head to set the coffeemaker on the countertop. With the proper application of water and grounds, the smell of brewing coffee soon surrounded them. She stood back, giving him room to maneuver as he pulled plates, silverware, and mismatched mugs from his cabinets.

Stopping, he leaned back against the counter, running his fingers through his already messed-up hair before they covered his mouth. Under furrowed brows, his eyes scrutinized her.

“Oh, Gwen. I am so sorry, not just about what happened Thursday. I’m sorry I didn’t….”

His mouth tensed as he struggled for words; she offered no aid. He needed to say it almost as much as she needed to hear his words.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my injury and why I left the Rangers and the reason for divorce. It’s just….” He turned around, taking deep breaths that expanded into his back. After several seconds, he faced her again. “Those days in the hospital were horrible. I thought I lost everything. I don’t like to revisit them. And when I see you and Chloe and realize how good life is, or could be, I don’t want to remember those days of wishing I was dead. I should have told you about my leg before I…before….”

How could he want to die?
The idea horrified her, and by the way his voice cracked, it distressed him to relive that time. In four steps, she crossed the room, and placed her hands on his biceps. His arms were strong and skin warm.
Don’t be weak
. She focused on his eyes, deep green and full of pain.

“I want to forgive you. That’s why I’m here. But learning about your injuries that way was a lot to take in. You didn’t trust me after all we’ve shared. Still, I’m sorry for how I responded.”

“You have nothing to feel sorry about and every right to be mad. I can’t explain why I didn’t tell you sooner. I tried. That night Coach had his heart attack, I came the closest. Each time I tried, I convinced myself to wait, so I could have one more day with you before I sickened you and you ran off, out of my life for good.”

He reached to caress her face. “I just found you. I can’t lose you again.” His fingertips grazed her jawline, a whisper sliding toward her ear.

“I am mad, not horrified. Don’t confuse me with Brooke—”

“You’re nothing like her. You’re beautiful and kind and—”

“Still upset you didn’t trust me.”

“I deserve that. Ask me, now. Anything you want. I will be an open book.”

“Do you sometimes think about dying, still?”

“I worked with a therapist for a while who told me to find a reason to live. When Coach Meyer offered me the assistant job, I thought that was it. I love coaching, but someone else reminded me there are myriad joys in this world.”

She’d think about his words later, but she accepted his touch, his palm on her cheek, the powerful mound of his thumb against the corner of her lips. His other hand rested on the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. Heat radiated off his chest, seeping through her T-shirt. He was a furnace. She’d never know cold with him.

He tilted her chin up, their gazes locked. “Why did you come to the game last night, after Thursday’s disaster?”

“I promised you I’d be there. If I make a commitment, I follow through. Besides, I wanted to see you in your suit again. You’re very handsome in it.” She stretched her arm up and tweaked the end of his nose.

“Perhaps I should go get dressed now.”

“No need.” She pushed back a little, letting her gaze roam down his chest and back to his face. “This is nice.”

“So is this.”

He pressed his mouth against hers hungry for all she had to offer. His kiss tasted of urgent need, and she yielded to his intensity. His stubble rubbed against her cheeks as his masculine scent thrilled her. She ran her fingers over the soft, razored hair on the nape of his neck, taking satisfaction in the low rumble escaping his throat. All too soon, he released his lips from hers.

“I want you to know that I am fully functional.”

His burgeoning erection poked against her leg.

“I suspected as much.” After a visual confirmation, she arched her eyebrow, met his gaze, and heard as much as sensed a low rumble from somewhere deep within his chest.

“I want you, Gwen. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

She stretched up, her lips as close to his ear as possible, “I’m here, ready for the taking.” Any hesitancy she had about being with him dissolved under the heat of his skin.

He leaned back, creating an unwelcome distance between their bodies. His face hardened. “Before we go any further, I have to get something off my chest.”

She harrumphed. “Fine. I’ll move.” She shifted, but he slid his hand to her buttocks.

“Not you.” He kissed her hair, proving his point, and turned serious again. “I don’t, won’t take our involvement lightly. I haven’t been with a woman since my…divorce. With my coaching responsibilities, I’m going to be busy, and I have a lot of trips the next few weeks. We may not see each other often. I don’t even know if I will have a job here next year. My contract runs out in April. I don’t want to start a relationship with you and leave or, worse yet, make you leave the life you are building here.”

His concern was nice, but couldn’t deter her feelings. She traced his square jaw. “Stop trying to end us before we start. We should at least give ourselves a chance. That’s why I came here. Between our jobs and Chloe, we may not get much time together. Let’s stop wasting it now.” She pressed her palm to his rock-hard abs, thumb grazing a dark line of hair beginning below his navel. “I have to be home by eleven.”

Frowning, he glanced at the clock in the kitchen. “That gives us less than two hours. Are you sure?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Her body and mind said yes, but above all, her heart shouted, “Hell, yes.”

He glanced sideways, smirked, and, in one swift movement, lifted her into his arms. She squeaked, laughing as he carried her into his bedroom.

***

He placed her on the unmade bed, blankets in disarray around them. His body nestled beside her. For a long moment, they gazed into each other eyes. It seemed like a dream, yet dreams didn’t radiate such warmth. A silent understanding passed between them. Looking into her eyes and seeing into her soul, he understood she wasn’t turned off by him as a man. In a moment, he’d know her reaction to his injury. She could set whatever pace she wanted or needed.

His hand rested on the narrow gap of creamy skin peeking out between the top of her jeans and the bottom of her slim-cut, pink T-shirt. A tiny lump of scar tissue on her round belly button suggested she once had it pierced. She probably wore a gem that sparkled in the sun. Not that she needed help to sparkle.
Enough with the self-discipline
.

With an arm underneath to turn her to the side, he pressed their bodies together until their lips skimmed each other. Years of simmering passion erupted in a kiss so powerful that when they came up for air, she stared at him in disbelief. She blinked, raised the left corner of her mouth, and, with a hungry twinkle in her eye, she crashed her lips against his once more. Her demanding tongue devoured him. His fingers ran through cascades of molten chocolate hair.
This is bliss
. The world outside of them ceased to exist. But he wanted more. So much more.

He deftly removed her shirt, revealing softer skin underneath. Lush curves lay before him. Ten minutes earlier, he would have said her tight T-shirts left little to the imagination.
Fool
. Those shirts hid her skin. His fingertips traced the outline of each cup of her pink bra, flirting with fabric and her soft warmth. “You are so beautiful.”

His mouth found the valley between her breasts. She responded by throwing her head backward in pleasure as a moan escaped her lips.

“It’s not enough.”

She was wrong. He could have teased her all along the edge of the cups, bringing her nipples to hard peaks before seeing her in the flesh. His erection jumped at the thought, but he didn’t have a chance to complete his wish. Not this time. She released her grip on his shoulders and unlatched her bra.
Oh yeah, way better than my fantasies
.

He cupped her breasts, covering them with kisses ranging from feather-light touches to firm caresses. His tongue flicked across each delicious nipple, which pebbled tight with yearning. Every sound escaping her mouth encouraged him to touch and tease her more. She leaned against him, kissing him wherever she could find skin, tightening her hold on him. Lips pressed against his neck, shoulders, and arms. His need for Gwen increased to levels he hadn’t known possible. He wanted to plunge inside her and be wrapped in warmth. But not yet.

He unfastened low-slung jeans with one hand and pushed them aside as he continued to taste salty-sweet skin, working his way toward the soft contours of her abdomen. His chin brushed a slight indent, and he knew what he had to do. She squealed when he nipped the belly button. The way she responded to every little touch and tease with a sigh, moan, or squeak, meant pleasing her would be a pleasure.

She shifted, making it easier for him to get those clothes out of the way.
A real team player
. Her body wriggled and writhed as he worked his hands downward. Jeans and underwear fell from hand to floor as he beheld the sight before him.

Dark hair fanned in a semicircle around her head, bold against the plain ivory sheets when she collapsed on the bed. Full breasts, perky pink nipples, curvy hips, and legs daintily pressed together from crotch to knees so that she looked like a pinup model from a past war. If he couldn’t see the rise and fall of her abdomen, he would have sworn he was looking at a magazine instead of a live woman. Her body was more wonderful than he imagined, and he’d spent plenty of time picturing it in his mind’s eye.

She studied him, pupils dilated. Then she licked her lips.

The growl escaping from deep inside Kyle’s throat turned her on even more. Sprawled on the bed, she waited, but he remained standing too long. She wanted to feel the heat of his body and not because the room was chilly. The physical shiver brought a splash of reality. Her purse was in the other room, and so were the condoms she’d brought, just in case. She sat up, head at navel level. She fought the distraction his hard length offered, but couldn’t resist tracing one finger down the silky shaft. “I brought protection. It’s in my purse.”

He took her chin in his hand and laid a kiss on her forehead. With his other hand, he draped the quilt. “How did I get to be so lucky?”

With a chuckle, she smacked his behind. “You aren’t getting lucky yet, but since you’re a little more dressed than I am….” She indicated the living room with a head nod and tugged the quilt over her other shoulder.

In a flash, he returned, purse in one hand as he rummaged with the other. As soon as he found the foil-wrapped treasure, he lifted the left side of his mouth, dropped the purse, and pounced on the bed.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Do I seem hesitant?” Under the pure, sincere desire in Kyle’s gaze, her body confidence soared. Other anxieties remained.

To convince herself of the truth, she pressed against him, giving him a quick kiss on the lips, before demanding more.

He kicked off his pants, pulling a blanket over them as he straddled her. The lust in his eyes wasn’t enough. His arms supported his weight, preventing full contact. Heat rolled off his body except by one leg.

“I want to see you. All of you.”

Uncertainty appeared in his eyes. Uncertain fingers slid down, not knowing where flesh would end. In order to become one with him, she needed to quash her squeamish side. His honesty deserved nothing less than hers.

He rolled to the side, discomfort visible in his expression, but she needed the openness before making love. And they would, of that she was certain. The blanket fell to the side. She watched his face and traced her fingers down his hard chest to the top of his hip bones. In his look, fear battled pleasure, but he offered no silent plea to stop. She resisted touching the magnificent erection. With her gaze locked on his, she offered an approving smile before trailing her fingers through the intermittent curls on his thigh. She raked her fingernails across both thighs, sensing the transition between flesh and scar tissue. He’d taken a lot of damage.
But he lived
. His muscles tensed beneath her touch. His eyes squeezed shut.

“That tickles.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Her fingertips took the lead once again.

His flesh stopped at the left knee, and she encountered a smooth, slightly rubbery surface. She straightened and assessed the unfamiliar object. His noisy inhalations and exhalations reminded her of one of the breathing exercises in her prenatal class, one of the techniques for reducing anxiety and pain.

The prosthesis was attached to him, but it wasn’t him. He was a man with the brave heart and brave mind. Her hands rested on the transition, she smiled at him and worked her way up. This time, her mouth traced the path in kisses, leaving a damp trail along his thigh, over his hip bone, across his hard abs, up his sternum and ending with his lips.

“Thank you.” Her forehead rested against his, noses nuzzled. She read the flash of confusion in his expression.

“For?”

“For trusting me. For letting me in this morning, and for everything you are about to do to me and let me do to you.”

Before she could say what she intended to do, he rolled her onto her back and helped her get lost in a world of pleasure.