Field of Pleasure (9 page)

“Risk assessment,” she answered. Actually, she did administrative tasks for the people who did risk assessment, but why share those details?

“Sounds, uh, fun I guess?” he said wearily.

“I'll admit it's not the most entertaining job.” Chyna laughed. “But I've done okay for myself. I'm up for a promotion. Besides, that job isn't supposed to be fun. I have dance for that.”

“You really love dancing, don't you?”

She looked over at him and smiled. “I really do.” Chyna shook her head and said with a wistful sigh. “This new job with the Saberrettes has been like a dream.”

“So why not make it a full-time gig?”

She gave him a sardonic look. “Because I have bills to pay,” she said. “I think the only dancers making real money are the professional partners on
Dancing with the Stars
.”

“You do that type of dancing?”

“I do all types of dancing, and yes, ballroom is one of them. I taught a salsa class yesterday at the dance school where I volunteer.”

“That right? Hmm, I may have to sign up for a few private lessons,” he said.

Chyna burst out laughing.

“What?” he asked with an affronted tone. “NFL players have done pretty well on
Dancing with the Stars
. Emmitt Smith won the whole thing the year he was on there.”

“You're looking to join
Dancing with the Stars?
”

“It's not out of the realm of possibility,” he said. “I'm pretty light on my feet.”

“Well, I've seen you move across the football field, so I have to agree with you on that one.”

“You've been checking me out on the field?” he asked, a bit of sexiness returning to his voice.

“Maybe,” she answered, nudging him with her shoulder. The contact sent sparks of electricity shooting down her arms all the way to the tips of her fingers.

She was about to ask him how he liked playing for the Sabers when a screech just to the right of them halted her. A woman screamed, “Roscoe, no!”

Chyna looked over and saw Summer rolling on the ground with a dog twice her size. The dog snapped at her, and Summer quickly scuttled away, dashing straight into a patch of bushes with razor-sharp thorns.

 

Jared catapulted himself from his perch on the grass and raced over to the shrubbery where Chyna's dog was hanging by the scruff of her neck, a thick branch hooked underneath her collar. He crouched down and slipped his hand under Summer's belly, then unbuckled the collar from around her neck.

He gently extracted the dog from the thorny underbrush, making sure she hadn't been skewered by any of the three-inch thorns. It didn't look as if she'd been stabbed, just pricked. He could feel the slick blood against his fingers.

The dog shivered in his arms, whimpering as she snuggled against his chest.

“Give her to me,” Chyna screamed, reaching for Summer.

Jared gently handed her the dog. “She's going to be okay,” he assured her.

“I'm so, so sorry,” the woman was saying. “He never goes after other dogs. I don't know what got into him.”

Chyna's eyes zeroed in on Jared's chest. “Oh, my God,” she screeched.

Jared looked down and noticed two splotches of blood on his white undershirt.

“She's hurt. Oh, God. Jared, she's hurt.”

The dog had no more than a scratch or two; he'd checked her for injuries himself, but one look at the wide-eyed worry on Chyna's face and Jared knew what he had to do. He slipped his fingers through the crook of her arm. “Come on, there has to be a twenty-four-hour animal hospital open somewhere around the city.”

He felt her shudder and realized Chyna was shaking nearly as much as the tiny dog. He stopped and wrapped his arms around them both, giving Chyna a patient, gentle squeeze. “She's going to be okay, Chyna.”

There was a loud sniff, followed by a nod. “Okay,” she said. “Let's just get her to the vet.”

Jared jogged a couple of yards back to where they were sitting and scooped up Chyna's backpack. He took out his iPhone and searched for a twenty-four-hour animal hospital. The closest one was less than six blocks away.

“There's one on Seventeeth and Madison. It shouldn't take us too long to get there.”

At his car, he held the passenger door open for her, but Chyna hesitated.

“Are you sure you're okay with this? What if she bleeds on the seat?” she asked.

Jared swallowed a curse. “It's just a car, Chyna. It can be cleaned.”

They didn't talk on the short drive to the vet hospital. Chyna was too busy whispering tearful pleas for forgiveness into Summer's fur. Jared didn't like how listless the little dog looked, but he had a feeling it was more from
shock than anything else. If he'd had three-inch thorns jabbing at his body, he'd be pretty shaken up, too.

He pulled in front of the brick veterinary clinic. “Bring her in. I'll be there in a minute.”

He parked at a garage a few yards away from the building and rushed back to Chyna. She was sitting in a standard-issue waiting-room chair, filling out paperwork attached to a clipboard.

“Have they already taken Summer?” Jared asked.

She looked up at him and nodded. A sharp pain pierced his chest at the sight of Chyna's luminous eyes brimming with unshed tears. Jared sat in the chair next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Her hands were shaking so badly she was having a hard time filling out the forms.

“Do you want me to do this for you?” he asked.

“I've got it,” she said in a small voice. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and that ache in his chest sharpened.

Jared took the clipboard from her and placed it on the coffee table next to a covered glass jar filled with dog treats. He captured Chyna's shoulders in his hands and twisted her to him. He was about to reassure her again, but before he could speak she fell onto his chest, quiet sobs rising from her.

Jared ran his palm up and down her back, trying like hell to ignore how good her breasts felt pillowed against his chest. Only the lowest form of scum would use this as an opportunity to get close to her, but how could he not? She was right there, soft and vulnerable and looking to him for comfort.

He closed his eyes, relishing the moment. It felt so good to be needed again, to have a woman to take care
of. Even if the only things he could provide were a few words and a comfortable place for her to lay her head.

“Ms. McCrea?” called a woman wearing scrubs dotted with cartoon dogs, cats and birds, and carrying a clipboard.

Chyna disengaged from his hold and rushed to the woman. Jared followed.

“The doctor is in with Summer now. I'll take you to—” The nurse stopped and her eyes grew huge. “Oh, my God! You're Jared Dawson!”

“Yes, I am,” Jared said. “About Summer?”

“Oh, of course.” She looked down at her clipboard then back up at him. “It's just that my boyfriend
loves
you. You're his favorite Saber. He has your jersey and everything.”

“Helloooo.” Chyna's voice approached full yell. “What about my dog?”

“Oh, right. I'm so sorry,” the nurse stumbled. “Dr. Rosen is with her. I'm going to put you in one of our exam rooms. The doctor will be in soon to speak with you regarding Summer's condition.”

Chyna pulled in a shaky breath and Jared ran a soothing palm down the middle of her back. “You want company?” he asked.

“Yes, please.” She nodded.

They were led down a narrow, paneled corridor, into a small room with an exam table in the center and a single chair tucked into a corner. Side by side on a shelf were neatly arranged glass jars filled with cotton swabs, tongue depressors and a few other things Jared didn't recognize. Framed posters of the skeletal and muscular structure of canines and felines hung on the walls.

He tried to shake off the unease that had crept up his spine as soon as the antiseptic smell hit his nostrils.
Professional athletes and hospitals did not mix well, even when the hospitals were for species of the four-legged variety.

Jared gestured to the chair. “You want to sit?”

Chyna shook her head. “I'm too nervous. Did you see the size of those thorns? One could have taken her eye out. I know better than to let her run around without a leash. She's so nosy. She's always getting into things that she…that she shouldn't,” she finished on a sob.

Jared reached for her again and brought her in for a hug. The door opened and a dark-haired woman with wire-rimmed glasses and a white coat entered. She held out her hand. “I'm Dr. Rosen,” she said.

“How's Summer?” Chyna asked, wiggling out of his grasp.

“She's going to be fine. She's just a little shaken up.”

“But what about the blood?” Chyna asked.

“She got nicked just below her breastbone. The technician shaved a little of her coat so I could get a better look at it, and I was able to confirm that the scratch was superficial. We'll apply an antiseptic cream and a bandage, but that's all she'll need,” the doctor said with an indulgent smile. “The tech is finishing up. She should be done with her in another ten minutes. Summer is up-to-date on all her shots, correct?”

Chyna nodded.

“Good. She may be a little timid after the scare she's had. Give her some extra attention tonight.”

As soon as the doctor closed the door behind her, Chyna turned and fell into Jared's arms. “I was so scared.”

“Shh,” he whispered into the hair just above her ear. He resumed his gentle caress up and down her back, his
fingers tingling from the warmth. “I told you everything would be okay, didn't I?”

“Yes, you did,” Chyna murmured against his chest. She lifted her head and stared into his eyes. “Thank you.”

The words were so soft Jared barely heard them. Or maybe her voice just seemed hushed because he could hardly hear anything past the blood pounding in his ears.

Gazing at him with those brilliant gray eyes that would put Bambi to shame, Chyna slipped her hand up his neck, her fingertips applying gentle pressure at the base of his head. She tilted her face up, and it was all the invitation he needed. Jared lowered his mouth and connected with hers.

The supple give of her soft lips sent a jolt of desire shooting through his body. He glided his hand up her spine, to the back of her head, holding her in place while he melded his lips to hers. He couldn't take a second more of this closed-mouth business. Prying her lips open with his tongue, Jared plunged inside.

Good God, she tasted like heaven.

He swallowed Chyna's low moan and pulled her tighter, needing to feel her against him. It was no use denying the arousal hardening just beyond his zipper. If she didn't see how much he wanted her, she damn sure could feel it.

Still holding her to his mouth with his right hand, he snaked the other past the curve of her waist and onto her backside, cupping the firm orb in his palm and pulling her more firmly to him. His tongue darted in and out of her mouth, jousting with her tongue in a playful, erotic dance.

A hungry groan escaped her throat and she tilted her pelvis toward him.

Pleasure ricocheted against the walls of his chest.
Jared plundered her with hurried kisses, stroking the inside of her warm mouth, devouring her sweet flavor. Need quickened his blood, pulsing strong and fierce in his groin as her soft curves molded to the contours of his hard body.

The door opened and they both jumped back like two teenagers caught necking behind the bleachers.

Chyna forgot all about him as she raced to the veterinary technician and tore Summer from the woman's arms.

“Oh, baby,” Chyna crooned, stroking Summer's fur and peppering her with tiny kisses.

The tech's gaze darted from Jared to Chyna. Her sly grin pretty much guaranteed that news of his kissing Chyna would be all over Facebook and Twitter before they left the vet office.

“You can take care of the bill at the receptionist's window,” the tech said.

“Thank you,” Chyna answered without looking up. She had eyes for only Summer.

They left the exam room and walked back to the lobby, which had gained several new occupants since they'd been gone. Jared was approached by two men, one with a handsome boxer puppy—the only breed Jared would consider if he ever got himself a dog—and the other with a hamster in a small cage. Jared signed a couple of autographs and gave the boxer a scratch behind his ears, then he went up to the counter and stood behind Chyna.

“Did she have X-rays or something?” Chyna was asking.

“No, ma'am, the doctor didn't think her injuries warranted X-rays.”

“So why is the bill so much?”

“There's a two-hundred-dollar surcharge for exams
on Sundays,” the woman said. “It's all itemized on your receipt.”

Jared looked over her shoulder at the bill. Six hundred and forty-two dollars.

He could feel the unease rolling off Chyna. He reached into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet, pulled out his credit card and slid it on the counter. “I've got it,” he told the receptionist.

Chyna slapped her hand onto the counter, covering the credit card. “No, you don't,” she said.

Jared cast a quick glance at the receptionist, who was watching the two of them intently, one penciled-in brow cocked.

“Let me take care of this for you, Chyna. You weren't expecting a six-hundred-dollar vet bill when you woke up this morning.”

“Six-forty-two,” the receptionist said.

“I said no.” Still balancing Summer in her arms, she reached into her backpack and pulled out a wallet. She passed the receptionist a credit card. A minute later, the receptionist handed it back to her.

“I'm sorry, but it was declined.”

Chyna's eyelids slid shut. “Crap.” She pulled out another credit card, but snatched it back before the receptionist could take it. “Wait, not this one.”