Break Away (The Baltimore Banners Book 5) (8 page)

He pulled away and laid her back on the sofa, his eyes drinking in the sight of her flushed skin, her body spread out before him. Her thick hair, the golden waves spread around her like a shining halo. Her soft lips, red and swollen and moist from his kisses. Her eyes, the deep blue glazed with passion, partially hidden by her lowered lids.

JP groaned and kneeled between her legs, sliding his hands under her hips and pulling her closer. He wrapped one hand around his cock, sliding the head along the moist folds of her opening, spreading the wetness of her climax. He looked down, watching, not daring to breathe, as he slowly entered her, his cock disappearing inch by inch inside her. He held himself still, then slowly eased out. In, then out.

She was tight, so fucking tight. And hot. Wet. His control slipped and he plunged into her, over and over, his hands tight on her hips, holding her in place. Her head tossed from side to side, her hands reaching behind her and grabbing the arm of the sofa. Her back arched, her breasts thrust forward, the tight peaks a dusky rose in the dim light.

JP pounded into her, unable to slow, unable to stop. Harder. Faster. Her body bucked beneath his and her lips parted on a sharp cry. He held himself still, reveling in the feel of her muscles clenching around him as her climax swept over her again.

Over him.

Then his control snapped and he plunged into her again, over and over until his own climax exploded. He threw his head back and clenched his jaw against his own groan, a thousand shards of sensation shredding him. He fell forward, careful to brace his weight on his arms so he wouldn't crush Emily, and tried to catch his breath.

Fuck. How had he forgotten this? Forgotten how potent she was, forgotten how easily he lost control with her.

He didn't lose control. He couldn't afford to.

Except he had. With Emily.

Always with Emily.

JP took a deep breath and rested his forehead against her shoulder, her skin warm and flushed against his. He waited for her arms to come around him, to feel the reassuring comfort of her hold. But her arms remained stretched above her, her body still except for the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

"
Bordel de merde
." He whispered the soft curse then slowly eased himself from Emily's warmth. He rolled off her and stood up, making his way to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and clean up. He refused to look in the mirror, refused to meet his own accusing stare.

Emily was sitting on the edge of the sofa when he returned, as far to the side as she could get without sitting on the arm. She was completely dressed, her hair neatly brushed back and tucked behind her ears.

And she wouldn't look at him.

He ran a hand down his face, felt the scratch of whiskers against his palm. Without saying a word, he gathered his own clothes and pulled them on, his movements rushed and jerky.

What the fuck had he done? Why hadn't he stopped? He should have known what would happen, should have known how she'd react. He hadn't seen her in five years and the history between them was too painful.

But had that stopped him from tossing her to the sofa and fucking her? No. What kind of man was he?

He smoothed a hand down the front of his shirt then stood there, not knowing what to do, only knowing he had to do something. He stepped closer to Emily, then dropped to his knees in front of her, reaching for her hands. He wasn't surprised when she tried to pull away so he tightened his grip.

"Emily.
Ma douce
. Please. Look at me."

"JP, don't."

"Look at me." He placed two fingers under her chin and gently tilted her head up until she was looking at him. She blinked and lowered her gaze, but not before he saw the shadows darkening the blue of her eyes, turning the color to that of a stormy sea.

"I need to get home. Monica's probably worried by now."

JP sighed but didn't release his hold on her. Not yet. "Emily, I'm sorry."

Her gaze flew to his, a flash of fire there and gone. "Sorry? Why?"

He sat back on his heels, the question surprising him. "I...this...I shouldn't have—"

"I'm a big girl, JP. I didn't do anything I didn't want to." She watched him for a few seconds, her eyes softening as the stiffness left her. Then she closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh. Opened them again then gently placed her palm against his cheek. She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth then stood up, stepping around him.

He stood up and faced her, his confusion no doubt clear on his face. "I don't understand. Then why—"

"Because I didn't think I'd still want to. Not with you." She tried to smile, one corner of her mouth barely lifting, trying to take the sting out of her words. But he felt them cut, deep and sharp. If Emily noticed, she didn't say so. She stood there, sadness and something else in her eyes as she watched him.

"Will you take me home now?"

JP nodded, not knowing what to say, not knowing if he could find his voice even if words came to him. He finally turned away and grabbed his cell phone and keys from the coffee table, then led Emily outside without another word.

The lines of the report blurred on the computer screen, the numbers running together into one long cell that doubled then tripled. Emily closed her eyes, squeezing them tight in an attempt to clear her vision.

It didn't work.

She clicked out of the program then rolled her neck from side to side, trying to work the tight kinks from her muscles. The dull throbbing at the base of her skull continued to grow, radiating up and around to her temples. The headache had been with her the last two days and she had used it as an excuse to work from home.

Which would be perfect if she was actually getting any work done. But she wasn't, not enough to make her happy. Yes, she was ahead of her workload—she always was. But not as far as she wanted to be, not with the long holiday weekend coming up.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs behind her, quick, steady. Emily blew out a deep breath then swung her office chair around as Monica came toward her, a frown on her face.

"I need to leave for work. Will you be able to get Taylor from the bus stop?"

Emily glanced at her watch, surprised to see how late it was. Late, yes. But still too early for Monica to be heading into work. "Yeah. But aren't you leaving a little early?"

Her sister shrugged, her gaze darting around the small office Emily used when she worked from home. Apprehension filled her when Monica refused to meet her gaze and she wondered what was going on.

Monica had been distracted the last few days, almost distant. Had her sister somehow figured out what happened the other day?

Had she figured out Emily had slept with JP?

No, it couldn't be that. Monica would have said something if that had been the case. Which was fine by her, because it wasn't something Emily wanted to remember.

Except she hadn't been able to think of anything else for the last two days.

Emily leaned back in the chair and fixed a steady look on her sister. "You okay?"

"Hm? Yeah." Monica ran a hand through her hair then finally met Emily's gaze with a sigh. "No. I just...Em, I want to kill him. How can he do this to her?"

She knew instantly who 'he' was: Monica's ex, Jon. She straightened in the chair, her attention focused on her sister's frown, on the paleness of her complexion and the slight trembling of her pale lips. Emily knew what was coming, wasn't even the least bit surprised. But she didn't say anything, just waited until Monica was ready to get it out of her system.

Monica took a deep breath and held it, then slowly released it. She stepped over to the small bench pushed against the wall and lowered herself onto it, her body sagging as if just that little bit of movement drained her. "He cancelled everything this weekend. All of it. His new 'girlfriend' decided they'd have more fun going to New York. Adults only."

Sadness filled Emily, but only briefly. And she knew she should be disappointed but she couldn't be, not when this is exactly what she expected to happen. And why wouldn't it be? Jon had been doing this for the last few years, ever since the divorce. Why was Monica even surprised?

"Monica, I..." Her voice trailed off as she tried to find the right words, tried not to make it even worse. "I know you're upset, but I honestly don't think Taylor expected to see Jon this weekend. And what she doesn't know can't hurt her, right?"

Monica pulled her shoulders closer together and looked down, her body stiff, her posture both defeated and defensive. Anger rushed through Emily as she recognized the body language. Anger, disbelief...and disappointment. "Monica. Tell me you didn't."

Her sister was quiet for several minutes. Too quiet. Emily sighed, not bothering to hide her frustration. It was the wrong thing to do. Monica's head flew up, her dark brows lowered over eyes, her anger clear.

"Don't you dare judge me!"

"Monica, I'm not—"

"You don't know what it's like, you don't know what I go through. Always making excuses to Taylor, dying inside because her father doesn't care. Do you have any idea—"

"Monica. Stop. I do know. I understand, okay?" Emily kept her voice quiet, soothing, doing her best to calm Monica's emotions. Her sister sat across from her, her chest heaving with each angry breath, and Emily waited. Would she calm down? Or would she lose herself in one of her many rants over the worthlessness of her ex?

Monica's body finally sagged, the expression of defeat in her posture and on her face striking something deep inside Emily. No matter what her sister thought, Emily did understand. All too well.

"I'm sorry. I just...I really thought he was going to come through this weekend, or else I would have never told Taylor. He actually sounded excited. Said he was looking forward to her spending the weekend with him, looking forward to her tournament."

Emily closed her eyes, keen disappointment sweeping through her. Not just the disappointment coming from Monica, but her own as well, a deep disappointment for how Taylor would take the news. To be let down by her father. Again.

Emily took a deep breath and tried to force a smile she didn't feel to her face. "Then we'll just have to go overboard for Thanksgiving dinner, won't we? And cheer really loud for Taylor when she's playing."

It was a ridiculous thing to say. Emily knew that before the words even left her mouth, but she still had to try. For her niece. But Monica's face paled again and she looked away, chewing her lower lip so hard Emily was surprised she didn't draw blood. Foreboding swept through her, hard and fast as she watched her sister.

"What? What is it Monica?"

"I'm working the entire weekend. I picked up some overtime and switched shifts with one of the girls. I thought..." Monica's voice drifted off on a heavy sigh. She shrugged and kept her face turned away as she continued. "I figured I may as well get some extra money since Taylor wouldn't be here."

"What? Monica, why? Can't you change the shifts back? Cancel the overtime or work something out?"

"No, I can't. It's too late for that."

Emily bit back a curse. Why would Monica do something like that when she knew Jon would cancel? He always did. Always. But for whatever reason, Monica hadn't considered what would happen, what always happened. Which meant Emily would be left patching up Taylor's disappointment.

Monica smoothed back her hair then stood, not even looking at her. "I need to go."

And before Emily could say anything, Monica was gone, the sound of her steps hurried as she made her way upstairs. Emily cursed beneath her breath, her mind already formulating excuses to give to Taylor.

It didn't matter what excuse she gave her niece. Taylor was going to be disappointed. And hurt. By both her parents.

Emily fisted one hand and slammed the top of her desk, wishing with all her heart she could do something to take away the pain her niece would no doubt feel at the news.

"Right there. That's what I'm talking about."

"Oh yeah, someone's going to be scoring tonight."

"Definitely. Who do you think it's going to be?"

"Who else? Look, she's heading this way."

An elbow jammed into JP's side, jerking him from his deep contemplation of the beer in front of him. Pale liquid sloshed over the rim of the chilled glass, spilling on his hand. He tossed Mat an impatient look then reached across the bar for some napkins. He finished wiping the spill then tossed the ball of wet napkins across the bar, hitting Randy square in the chest before a hand closed over his arm.

He jumped at the touch then looked down, only a little surprised to see the feminine hand wrapped around his bare forearm. The fingers were long and tapered, tipped by long lacquered nails in a brightly painted design. The hand was pale against the darker skin of his arm, the skin smooth and soft. His eyes traveled across the hand, to the sparkling diamond bracelet wrapped around a delicate wrist, up a bare arm, finally stopping at the owner's face.

She was a beautiful woman, with finely sculpted cheekbones and a full pouty mouth. Brown eyes gazed at him from beneath long dark lashes, her interest clear as she sidled even closer, the lush fullness of her soft breasts pushing against his arm.

She smiled and tilted her head to the side, her thick auburn hair falling across her shoulder with the move. Her smile widened as heat flashed in her eyes and she leaned even closer.

"I was wondering if I could buy you a drink." It was a statement, not a question. Bold and forward, leaving no room for doubt. Just the way JP liked it.

Usually. Tonight, it did nothing more than annoy him.

"Score!" Mat's voice was pitched low enough so that only JP and his teammates could hear it. Or maybe not, if the woman's growing smile was any indication. JP swung out with his left foot, connecting with Mat's shin with perfect aim. He ignored his friend's small grunt and turned back to the woman with a soft smile.

"Thank you but
non
. I already have one."

The woman's smile faltered for a brief second before returning. A little brighter, a little more forced. She squeezed his arm, the tips of her nails digging into his flesh for a brief second before letting go. Her eyes drifted past him, raking over the trio beside him, then she finally shrugged and walked away.

JP followed her with his eyes, his gaze dropping to the shapely ass beneath the tight skirt, to the long legs made even longer by the ridiculously high heels on her small feet. He shook his head and turned back to the bar, once more focusing on the beer in front of him.

There was no shortage of women here tonight, just like every night. The Maypole, a refined sports bar and restaurant geared towards women, had been hugely successful since it opened over a year ago. Owned by a group of women that included both Randy Michaels' sister and girlfriend, the place had quickly become a hangout for quite a few of the single players on the team.

And it wasn't just because the food was great.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Larocque?"

"Seriously. Dude. You so could have had that."

"Fuck that, my turn." Justin Tome turned to Randy. "Get me one of whatever she's drinking. I'm going to go introduce myself."

JP watched as Randy stepped back, his dark gaze darting over the wide collection of bottles behind the bar. Randy shrugged then threw his hands in the air. "I don't know what she's drinking."

"How can you not know what she's drinking?"

"Because I'm not the fucking bartender, that's why."

"Then why are you even back there?"

JP watched the verbal volley, a small smile tilting the corner of his mouth as Randy shrugged again, his expression betraying how lost he was back there.

"I'm back here because Darren took a quick break and couldn't leave the bar alone."

"Whatever. Pour me a glass of white wine, then. Women always drink white wine."

"No they don't."

"Yeah they do. Look around, man. Are you blind?"

JP took a long swallow of beer to hide his smile, then tuned out his teammates’ bickering as Randy fumbled with a glass and a bottle of wine. He turned on the stool, caught Mat's questioning gaze, then quickly looked away. But not quick enough, because Mat stepped a little closer, leaning in on the pretense of reaching for his own beer.

"You going to tell me what's going on?"

"Nothing is going on."

"Really? Because a month ago you would have been all over that." Mat nodded his head in the direction at something just over JP's right shoulder. He didn't have to turn around to know he was looking at the woman who had just walked away. Just like he didn't have to turn around to know that Justin was now heading over there, a glass of white wine in his hand as an offering.

JP shrugged and took a sip of beer. "Wasn't interested."

"You? Not interested? Since when aren't you interested? If it's breathing and has tits, you're usually interested."

Heat crept up his face and he shifted on the stool, suddenly uncomfortable. Because Mat only spoke the truth. Or at least, the truth as he saw it. And he was partially right. Not too long ago, JP would have gladly accepted the woman's offer of a drink. And so much more.

But not now. Not for eight months. No, longer than that. Only his teammates were just now realizing it, just now starting to comment on it. JP had no intention of explaining anything to his friends, no matter what they thought.

He certainly had no attention of explaining about Emily. How could he explain something he didn't fully understand himself?

There was only one woman he was interested in right now.

A woman who apparently wanted nothing to do with him.

Because I didn't think I'd still want to. Not with you.

Emily's words from the other day came back to him, just as fresh and biting as when she had first said them. And just what the hell was that supposed to mean anyway?

He had been torturing himself with that same question over and over again, and he still had no answer. He wasn't sure he wanted one.

Mat muttered something under his breath, his tone impatient. Then he grabbed his beer and shoved away from the bar, heading over to the table where the other guys had disappeared to. JP looked over his shoulder, saw the women greet his teammates with bright smiles and eager faces. He shook his head and turned back to his beer, draining what was left of it in one long swallow.

"Sucks, doesn't it?"

JP looked up, surprised to see Randy leaning on one elbow, studying him. "What sucks?"

"When you realize you've been running in the wrong direction all this time."

"No idea what you're talking about,
mon ami
."

Randy's gaze held his, dark, intense. Seeing too much. "Really?"

"Really." JP grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out several bills, tossing them on the bar.

"You never know until you try."

JP laughed, the sound too short, too brittle. "I did. Too much history."

"History isn't always bad."

JP laughed again and shook his head. That was easy for Randy to say. He was head over heels in love, certain of his commitment, certain of his relationship. JP didn't have that, doubted if he ever would.

What would Randy say if JP told him? About Emily. About their daughter. And how JP had abandoned her, had just walked away when Emily needed him most.

No. He didn't want to share that, not with anyone. Not when just thinking about what he had done caused his chest to tighten and his lungs to burn.

Not when the need to see Emily still burned deep inside him. Why? Closure? Guilt? Something else? He didn't know, was afraid to question the need too closely. Afraid he'd act on it.

No. He knew he'd act on it. In fact, he was going to do just that right now. The thought had been with him for the last several hours. All day, in fact, since he had spied the youth hockey schedule posted in the lobby of the practice rink after this morning's skate.

He glanced at his watch. Practice started fifteen minutes ago. The timing was perfect.

"Going somewhere?" Randy asked when he jumped off the stool. JP glanced at him then shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. He had the feeling that Randy didn't buy the act for a minute.

"Yeah. I have something to do." He tossed a wave over his shoulder then threaded his way through the crowded restaurant, ignoring the calls of his teammates as he left.

He didn't want anyone to know where he was going, didn't want anyone to know about his sudden weakness.