Delay of Game (The Baltimore Banners Book 6) (15 page)

He motioned to the bag then looked at her. "I wasn't sure how long he'd be staying here, so I packed a couple changes of clothes. A few pairs of sweats. And I grabbed a couple of button-up shirts. I wasn't sure how easy getting a t-shirt on would be, not with his arm."

"Oh. Good thinking." Val shifted in the silence, glancing down at the bag then back at Mat. "Would you like something to drink? Tea? Soda? I think I have some beer—"

"Get rid of it."

Val blinked, not sure she heard him correctly. "I'm sorry, excuse me?"

"The alcohol. If you have any, get rid of it." Mat studied her for a long minute then lowered himself to the sofa, sitting on the edge with his hands loosely clasped between his legs. He motioned for her to sit, watching her as she took a seat in the matching chair across from him.

Silence stretched between them, long and uncomfortable as he just sat there, watching her. He finally sighed and straightened, then ran a hand through his thick hair.

"I'm not going to mince words, Val. We both know Justin went through some serious shit a few months ago and tried to hide it with all his partying."

"I know, but—"

"No, let me finish." He looked around again then took a deep breath and blew it out. "This injury—it could do a number on his head, Val. The doctor told him he could be out for six months. I don't think he's going to take it too well when it sinks in."

"Oh." Val glanced down the hall to the bedroom, a knot of tension and dismay forming in her stomach. Six months. Justin had told her three. Had he deliberately kept the truth from her, deliberately lied? Or was he merely hiding from the truth himself?

"I didn't say that to make you worry."

"Oh. No, it's okay. I understand. I'll, uh, I'll make sure there's no alcohol around."

Mat nodded and looked away. He rubbed one hand against his jaw, the scrape of his palm against his beard the only sound in the room. Apprehension filled Val as she watched him, wondering what else he was going to say. A few more minutes went by before Mat finally looked at her again, his green eyes too serious.

"I've known Justin for a few years. He's a good guy. But this…" He paused, looked down at his hands and took a deep breath, then looked back up. "If he starts giving you too much shit, if it gets to be too much, send his ass home, Val. I know that sounds cold, but I know how Justin can get."

Val stared at him, sure her mouth was open in surprise. Whatever she had expected Mat to say, that wasn't it. Especially not from Mat. Wasn't he the one the team had started calling "saint"? At least, that's what she thought she heard a few of the guys say. Maybe not. Maybe she was wrong, especially after hearing what he'd just said.

Val looked away, her attention suddenly focused on a small snag in her yoga pants. She pulled at it, then brushed her hand over it, smoothing it down. Pull and smooth. Over and over while she tried to think of something to say, tried to think how to respond.

What could she say? Nothing came to mind. Nothing except worry. First Randy had cautioned against her getting involved. Now Mat was warning her as well, though for a slightly different reason. What did those two know that she didn't?

And why was she certain that she saw Justin in a different light than either one of his teammates? No, her instincts couldn't be wrong. They never were.

Or was she just trying to convince herself of that? And if so, why?

No, she wasn't wrong. Maybe she did see Justin differently, but that was because she knew him differently. She knew a different side of him, a side he didn't share with his teammates. Her instincts were never wrong. They weren't wrong now, she was sure of it.

She finally looked up at Mat, not surprised to see him watching her. She straightened her shoulders, tried to unclench her jaw. "I'll remember that, but I'm sure we'll be just fine, so thanks."

Mat laughed, the sound unexpected and completely inappropriate, considering everything he'd just said. He ran a hand through his hair again, a smile on his face. "You know, I think you're right. You're just as stubborn as your brother and that's exactly what Justin needs."

Mat pushed himself to his feet, then held out his hand. Val stared at it for a few seconds, not quite understanding the sudden change in him, from cool seriousness to laughing amusement. She finally accepted his hand, allowing Mat to pull her from the chair. He stepped back and dug into his back pocket, pulling out a folded slip of paper.

"This is my cell. Call me if you need anything, even if it's just to vent."

Val took the slip of paper, not bothering to look at it, not even sure she'd keep it. "Uh, okay. Sure."

She followed Mat to the door, still questioning the sudden change, still running each word through her mind. Had he been teasing her? Or maybe testing her? No, that couldn't be. There was no reason for him to do something like that. Was there?

"Seriously, Val. If you need anything, just call. I'll try to stop by and see how he's doing before we go back on the road."

"Sure, no problem." Val nodded, not surprised that Mat looked like he didn't quite believe her. He nodded once then walked out, pulling the door closed behind him.

Val stood there, staring down at the slip of paper in her hand, still trying to figure out what had just happened. And what she wanted to do about it. She folded the slip in half and walked to where her purse was sitting on the coffee table, sliding the paper into the outside pocket, wondering if she'd actually use it.

And hoping she wouldn't have to.

"God dammit, fucking shit." Justin balled his hand into a fist, wanting to hit something. Anything. The wall, the mirror, the side of the tub. How fucking hard could it be to get a stupid ass piece of plastic wrapped around a fucking cast? It shouldn't be that hard. He was right-handed, slipping the plastic over his left arm and sealing it with tape shouldn't be a problem.

Except it was. Everything was a problem lately. Getting out of bed. Getting dressed. Taking a fucking piss. Every damn time he moved, he jarred his left arm, sending pain shooting up the limb into his shoulder and down into his gut.

A week had passed. Shouldn't it be getting easier? All he wanted to do was take a fucking shower. Without help.

Without feeling like a damned invalid who couldn't do shit on his own.

He unclenched his fist and sat down on the edge of the tub, the smooth porcelain cold under his bare ass, and took deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. Like he was in fucking labor or something.

A shower. That's all he wanted. Was that too much to ask?

Knocking sounded against the closed door. Light, almost hesitant. Justin raised his head and stared, wondering if maybe he was hearing things. No, there it was again.

"You okay in there? Need any help?"

Shit. He wanted to say no. He had to say no. If Val came in, he'd be no more good. He'd been at her place since breaking his arm. Sleeping in her bed each night. Sleeping next to her, her body pressed close against his. Each night.

And he hadn't been able to do a damn thing except lie there next to her—and try to sleep. And not move. Christ, he wanted to do so much more. His damn dick needed to do so much more. He wasn't sure how much more he could take before he just freaking exploded. Boom. No more Justin.

Yeah, that would be one way to take care of the frustration.

It was his arm that was broke, not his dick. The first shouldn't have anything to do with the second. Except trying to take care of the second caused so much pain to the first that taking care of the second became a non-issue.

He should know. He had tried already.

So yeah, he didn't need Val coming in here to help him. If she did, he really might die.

"Justin? Did you need any help?"

"No, I'm good. I got it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." He stared down at the torn plastic in his hand and sighed. "Um, could you get me another bag? This one ripped."

Was she laughing? He couldn't be sure, not with the closed door between them. He leaned forward, straining his ears, but she was already gone. No doubt going to the kitchen to get another bag.

Because he was fucking helpless.

A few minutes went by before she knocked again. Justin stood, planning on just cracking the door open and grabbing the bag from her. He jarred his arm and winced, then jumped in surprise when the door opened. He grabbed his left arm, cussing under his breath and trying to turn around when Val walked in.

And yes, she was laughing, the sound soft and musical. He closed his eyes as heat rushed to his face, then reached behind him with his good hand, wiggling his fingers and hoping she'd just hand him the bag and leave.

No such luck. Val moved next to him, gently lifting his arm and sliding the bag over it. Less than a minute later, she had tape around it, sealing the top, creating a waterproof sleeve with ease.

Justin didn't move. All he could do was stand there, his head tilted back and his jaw clenched. Hoping she wouldn't notice his hard-on. Yeah, like that would happen. He was standing at attention, hard and rigid, ready to go.

Because his damn dick had a mind of its own.

Val stepped around him and he opened his eyes, just in time to see her leaning over the tub to turn on the water. His gaze went straight to her ass, nice and firm, perfectly outlined in the stretch material of her black yoga pants.

He groaned and looked away, but not before Val glanced over her shoulder at him. And shit, the way she was still bent over like that, her head was right there. Like, right there. There was no way in hell she could miss his cock standing at attention like a good soldier ready for action.

But she didn't say anything. He didn't even know if she looked, although part of him tried not to be insulted by her lack of comment. He wasn't exactly cocky—and Christ, did he really have to use that particular word?—but he liked to think that what he had was noticeable. More than noticeable. But no, Val didn't say a word.

He heard her moving, knew she was rolling the bathmat into the tub. The sound of the water changed, coming out of the showerhead now instead of the faucet.

"All set." He felt her hand on his good arm, finally opened his eyes so he could step into the shower. He caught her gaze just before she pulled the shower curtain closed, saw the small smile on her face and the sparkle in her eyes.

Justin ducked his head under the water, mumbling under his breath. "This isn't funny."

"What was that?"

"Uh, nothing." He shook the water out of his face and reached for the shower gel, squeezing some out onto the poofy ball sitting on the shelf of the shower organizer. Christ, let the guys find out he was using something poofy to shower with and he'd never hear the end of it.

Yeah, not much chance of that happening. The team was in New York already, getting ready for the first game of round three. And fuck, why did he have to think of that, just now? He thought he'd been doing a good job of not thinking about it, of putting it out of his mind.

Yeah. The same way he was doing such a good job of not thinking about sex with Val.

Maybe he should just turn the water to full blast ice. Hell, he should just take care of business himself. It sure as hell wouldn't take him long. And he would, if he didn't think he'd jar his arm and make it worse.

What the hell. It couldn't hurt, right? If it got to be too bad, he'd just stop. He reached down and wrapped his hand around his cock just as the shower curtain opened again. He jumped, suddenly as guilty as a teenager caught in the act, his breathing coming out in a loud hiss when he knocked his arm against the wall.

Then he couldn't breathe at all, couldn't even think of the pain because suddenly Val was there next to him, water pouring over her naked body.

Her sweet, delicious, luscious naked body.

"Val—"

"Shh." She stepped closer, the fullness of her firm breasts brushing against his chest as she ran her hand between them. Her hand closed over his, over his cock, guiding it in a long slow stroke.

Justin's head fell back as he groaned, all pain in his arm forgotten. There was just this, the exquisite feel of Val's hand over his, guiding him. Each stroke slow, so fucking slow.

"Better?" The sound of her throaty voice shot through him, filling him with need, with desire.

"Val—"

"Shh." Then her lips pressed against his. Not a full kiss, just enough to tease. She nipped at his lower lip, then ran her mouth along his bearded jaw, down his neck to his collarbone. She used her mouth to kiss, her tongue and teeth to nip and tease. Down to his chest, to each flat nipple, lower. Down across his stomach, down.

Then she was kneeling in front of him, easing his own hand away, taking over with her own. He looked down at her, felt something slam into his chest when he met her gaze. The spray of water fell over her, slicking her hair, the long strands falling over her shoulders and clinging to her breasts.

"Hold on."

"Val—"

"Just hold on to the shower rod. Don't move. I don't want you to hurt your arm."

Christ, did she really think he cared about his fucking arm right now? She was kneeling in front of him, her hand stroking his cock, her lips slightly parted as she stared up at him. "Hold on to the shower rod or I'll stop."

Justin reached out with arm, his hand wrapping around the rod without thought. And then his mind completely blanked because Val's mouth was on him, licking, sucking. Warm, wet. Hot. Magical.

Christ, he was going to die. Pleasure, sharp, almost painful. No, never painful. He clenched his jaw, closed his eyes and tilted his head back as need curled in the pit of his stomach. Razor sharp, intense. Nothing existed except the feel of Val's mouth on his cock.

Justin gulped for air, opened his eyes and looked down. Val looked up at him, her dark eyes wide in her face, her gaze burning him from the inside out. God, she was beautiful. So beautiful. What the hell did he do to deserve her? To have this enchantress on her knees in front of him, pleasuring him?

He wanted to touch her. No, needed to touch her. He loosened his grip around the shower rod, lowered his hand, wanting to wrap his fingers in the wet strands of her glorious hair—

She moved away, removing her mouth, a wicked grin on her face. "No moving."

Justin gripped the shower rod again, a groan tearing through his chest. Christ, didn't she know how much he needed to touch her? "Val."

"No moving." Her smile widened. Dammit, she did know. Her mouth closed over him again and he groaned, watching as she sucked. Her arm wrapped around his hips, holding him still, as her other hand cupped his balls. Squeezing, teasing.

Fuck. It was too much. He couldn't—his head fell back, his jaw clenched as sensation and need tore through him. He tightened his grip around the shower rod, the porcelain tile of the shower cool against his back. God, it was too much. Too much, he couldn't—

His climax ripped from him, tearing through him with a force so strong he almost fell. Would have fallen, if not for his grip around the shower rod and Val's arm wrapped around his hips. He groaned, the sound long and low, desperate, as stars exploded behind his lids and heat seared his veins. His chest hurt, each harsh breath a struggle. For one frantic second he thought he was having a heart attack, his heart was beating too fast, too loud, the sound echoing around him.

And then Val was standing next to him, her arms wrapped around his waist, her mouth pressing gentle kisses along his collarbone and throat. He let go of the shower rod, his hand cramped from holding it so tightly, and wrapped his good arm around Val.

"All better?"

He tried to nod, wasn't sure if he was successful or not, didn't care because Val was kissing him, her mouth tender and gentle against his. He tightened his arm around her, pulling her closer, and deepened the kiss. Val sighed, her body molding itself against his. Then she pulled away and smiled at him. Wicked, wanton. Sweet and innocent. And Christ, how could it be all of that, all at the same time?

He stared down at her, felt something shift and tilt and wondered if he was getting ready to fall. Then it was too late, because he had fallen. It didn't matter that he was still standing on his own two feet. He had fallen, hard and fast.

For the woman in his arms, staring up at him, a bewitching smile on her face. Did she know? Could she tell? Something tore through him. Hot and cold. Reassuring and frightening.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Not with Val. Not with anyone. Not now, not when his life was so completely fucked up, not when the future was so uncertain. He opened his mouth with no idea of what to say. Whether he should seize the moment or shove it away. But then Val pressed a final kiss against the base of his throat and reached for the stupid poofy thing, dragging it across his chest and down his stomach, around to his back. And shit, she was bathing him. Actually washing him.

"Val—"

"Turn around, let me get your back."

Justin watched her for a few long seconds then slowly turned around, his mind searching for something to say.

Something besides those three words that would forever change things.

"How's your arm?"

"What?" He glanced over his shoulder at her, then down at the arm hanging limply by his side. "Uh, good. I think. I don't really feel anything right now."

Her laughter was intoxicating, light and musical, sending shots of warmth shooting across his skin. Or maybe that was the poofy thing as Val dragged it across his back, his ass, down each leg.

She tugged on his hand, silently demanding he turn. She added more gel to the poof then scrubbed the front of him. "Step back. Rinse off."

Justin moved under the spray, his eyes never leaving her as she used the same gel, the same poofy thing to wash herself. Rich lather formed on her pale skin everywhere she touched, from her neck, to her breasts, lower. She smiled then handed him the poof before turning around, pulling her hair out of the way. "My turn."

Justin hesitated, almost afraid to touch her. Then he reached out and pressed the poof against her back, gently rubbing it along her skin. "You're, uh, going to smell like me."

She looked over her shoulder, her smile wide. "I know."

Possessiveness shot through him. Possessiveness and something else, something even stronger than before. She had said that like it was a good thing, like she wanted to smell like him. Silly. Stupid. He shouldn't be grinning, shouldn't be feeling warm inside at her words. But he did, and he was helpless to stop it.

He didn't want to stop it.

Val turned around then slid past him, stepping under the spray of water to rinse off. He couldn't stop watching her, couldn't stop grinning, not when she was looking at him like that, a smile on her face.