Her Man Advantage (9 page)

She swayed toward him, powerless to hold back.

“Did you notice I locked the door?”

His hand curved around the nape of her neck, warm and commanding, but gentle all the same. Her head tipped back, eyes glued to his as he circled her waist with one arm.

“I’ve been thinking about having you behind a locked door at least once a minute for the past forty-eight hours.” His voice hit a husky note that reverberated through her.

Fingers uncurling, she lifted her arms to slide them around his neck, her breasts meeting the hard wall of his chest.

“Maybe just this once, we could see what happens. Work it out of our systems,” she suggested.

He felt so good against her that she responded on contact. Heat flooded her sex and her breasts, the nerve endings there keenly sensitive to his slightest movement.

“You’re delusional,” he whispered so softly, so sweetly, he could have been whispering words of eternal love. “Once is never going to be enough.”

“That sounds like a promise,” she murmured, dying for a taste of him.

“A personal guarantee.” His mouth grazed hers as he spoke, his minty breath warm on her lips.

Restraint vanished. Jennifer arched up on her toes and pressed her lips to his, needing a taste of him. His hand spanned her lower back, fingers splayed against her cotton shorts and the old T-shirt she’d put on after the game. The soft fabric didn’t begin to stanch the heat of his touch, his hand warming her skin beneath.

Sensation flowed up her spine, his touch sealing her to him. All those places her body touched him seemed to melt on contact, everything inside her turning warm and liquid.

A hungry purr tickled her throat and she couldn’t stifle the needy sound. Axel filled her senses from the stroke of his tongue over hers to the silky slide of his lower lip along her mouth. At the base of her neck, his hand massaged circles beneath her hair before straying down her back just beneath the neckline of her T-shirt.

Pleasure bloomed everywhere, so intense she had to close her eyes and savor the moment and the man. The scent of him filled her nostrils, musky and male, until she couldn’t wait for more of him. Releasing his neck, she eased back to smooth her fingers down well-defined pecs. His heart thumped hard beneath her palm, the vibration urging her fingers over the buttons on his shirt.

One by one she slid the fastenings free, finding a soft T-shirt beneath the button-down. Fumbling at the shirt hem, she tugged the fabric from his trousers, moving to his belt to ease the way.

“Let me,” he offered, breaking the kiss to undo the buckle and send both shirts to the floor.

He leaned in again to kiss her, but she pinned his shoulders with her hands, her gaze raking over him.

“Wow.” Her reverent perusal of his chest was more than testament to how long it’d been since she’d been with a man. It was the same response a woman might give any honed athlete with his shirt off, respect for a human body that was fulfilling every bit of its physical potential.

“When do I get to ogle you?” he teased, hooking one finger in the V-neck of her T-shirt. “I’m dying to return the favor.”

She knew a rare moment of reticence.

“I’m not exactly centerfold material.”

His eyes met hers. Serious. Simmering with heat.

“Who wants an airbrushed fake when I’m standing next to the red-hot real thing?”

A smile kicked up one side of her mouth.

“Oh.” Just like that, she felt sexy all over. “In that case, be my guest.”

He studied her for a moment, as if assuring himself she meant it. But he didn’t undress her right away. Instead, his gaze dropped to the neckline of her shirt, now askew from where he’d tugged at it. Moving closer, he angled over her to brush a kiss at the base of her throat, his tongue darting out to stroke a slick path lower.

Pleasure sparked and fanned heat along her skin. Her breasts crested in taut peaks beneath her bra.

“I mean it,” she urged, shrugging one shoulder to work the fabric of her shirt off that side. “I’m so ready.”

And then his hands were there, at her waist, skimming the top up and off her until she wore just a plain cotton bra built for work rather than play.

Not that Axel seemed to notice. His eyes devoured her and his hands followed the same path, curling around her waist and palming her belly until he’d touched everywhere but her aching breasts. Awkwardly, she wriggled out of the straps, leaving the fabric cups perched precariously on her curves.

With a groan of capitulation, he gripped her hip and dragged her closer, cradling a breast in his hand.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Gorgeous. Perfect.” He put his mouth where the compliments were, his lips falling to the rounded top of one mound as he kneaded her in one hand.

Sensation swamped her and she leaned limply against the door to the hallway, counting on his arm at her waist to keep her upright. She moaned deep in her throat, her fingers skimming his close-cropped hair while he laved a trail of kisses in spiraling circles that neared one taut nipple.

Need wound tight inside her, her panties damp with anticipation when he hadn’t even touched her there. If anything, he kept his hips at too much of a distance when she was this hungry for him.

Arching her back, she forced the issue, centering her breast at his mouth until he licked a tantalizing circle around and around her there. When at last he drew on her, she whimpered shamelessly, the sweet fulfillment too exquisite for words.

Head tossed back, she writhed against him, her fingers searching for the fastenings of his fly. She freed one. Two. But before she could go any further, he hitched an arm beneath her thighs and swept her off her feet.

Axel wanted to do this right.

He hadn’t necessarily planned to jump on her the moment he walked through the door tonight, but he’d known this moment was inevitable and he’d been prepared. He had no intentions of taking her fast and hard against a hotel room door.

Fast and hard in a hotel bed is more civilized?
his wiseass conscience nagged. But the spark he felt with Jennifer was like nothing he’d ever known.

Settling her on the white duvet of the king-size bed, he moved her laptop to the floor to give them more room. Her gorgeous breasts were the perfect handful and he couldn’t take his eyes off her body. Leaning over her, he unhooked her bra and peeled the straps the rest of the way off her arms.

“Keep going,” she urged, moving her hips in mouthwatering invitation. “I want everything off.”

“I am so on the same page.” He didn’t know if she meant her clothes or his, but his hands went to her cotton shorts first, even though the buttons on his fly were going to be imprinted on his Johnson for the remainder of his days.

He needed to see the rest of her. Besides, once his pants came off, his restraint would be seriously compromised.

Her skin was soft and warm when he cupped her hip. She was pale everywhere, a few freckles dotting the creamy texture. He kissed just above the waistband of the shorts, inhaling the faint scent of lilies of the valley. He licked a path to her navel, his tongue swirling around there the way he’d like to kiss her between her thighs.

Soon.

Her hips rocked against the bed and a soft, strangled sound came from her lips. Hard to believe she wanted this as badly as he did, but her fingers bunched the fabric of the duvet in a tense grip and her breath came in sexy little gasps.

Stripping off her shorts and her underwear in one swipe, he fought the urge to bury himself in her then and there. The only thing holding him back was the cotton twill of half-buttoned khakis.

He stretched out over her, keeping the barrier in place. He wasn’t going to rush this and he had so much to savor. Pleasure.

“When do I get to ogle
you?
” she whispered, tossing his words back at him.

Her fingers latched on to the waist of his trousers, her touch so close to where he needed it that his breath stuck in his lungs.

He tried to speak but the words were garbled. Who could be coherent with a naked goddess skimming the front of his pants?

She smiled, sexy and knowing, her red curls sliding behind her shoulder as she shifted to her side. They lay facing each other on the big bed.

“I mean it,” she urged, her hand edging nearer to the throbbing length of him. “I’m not a patient woman.”

“You should work on that,” he bit out, mustering all his willpower to rein himself in.

“One day I will, but not tonight.” She placed kisses along his shoulder.

Her fingers progressed with painstaking slowness on the last of the fastenings, an occasional knuckle brushing against him and making him damn near see stars. Fireworks, maybe. He was so on edge the slightest thing could set him off.

“You win.” He grappled for his wallet in his back pocket, finding a condom inside and slapping it on the bed. “I don’t stand a chance against all that redheaded determination.”

She released his pants to clutch the condom, waving it over her head like a trophy.

“We both win!” she exclaimed, unwrapping it while he shed his pants and his boxers. When her eyes dipped south, she dropped the prophylactic. “But I really, really win.”

Her wide-eyed gaze flattered the hell out of him, but by now, he couldn’t play teasing games with her. Need unfurled at the base of his spine, clawing up his back.

Gently, he captured her lips, kissing her until she went pliant, lying back on the mattress. He trapped one thigh with his, holding her where he wanted her. She tasted so good, so sweet. When he smoothed a touch across her hip and down her belly, her kisses grew more urgent. She twisted beneath him, wriggling until he cupped her sex. Tested her warmth with a finger.

Any worry about her being ready for him evaporated. He rolled on the condom then entered her in one long stroke. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, a welcome pain, even as she whispered frantic demands for more. Now. Faster.

“One day,” he promised, shifting slowly inside her, “we’ll do everything just the way you want. But not now. Not tonight.”

Not when he’d been without a woman all season. When he’d been without
her
his whole life.

She nodded in the dimness, eyes passion-dazed and her mouth swollen from his kisses.

“I’ll have you any way I can.”

Her words drove him crazy even when he’d succeeded in stilling her beautiful body. His release churned inside him, demanding completion. Gritting his teeth against it, he pumped his hips harder. Faster.

In the half light, she smiled. Her head thrown back, she cried out, holding on to him with the same fierceness he felt. Her hips bucked wildly, breasts bouncing until he captured one with his palm and tweaked the nipple.

Her orgasm came hard and fast. She shouted. Gasped. Squeezed him tight between her legs.

At last, he gave in to the pleasure, his own release racking his body for endless moments. Afterward, temporarily satisfied and drained, he held her until their bodies cooled and he had to wrap the duvet around them.

Speaking wasn’t an option. He couldn’t begin to think about how he felt or what it all meant that they’d been together. For now, he just wanted to lie beside her. Touch her. Know her.

There would be time enough tomorrow to wonder how they could avoid the cameras and keep her safe while his old gang sought retribution. Until then, he planned to savor every moment of pleasure he could with this sexy, strong-willed dynamo who’d barreled into his life when he’d least expected it.

8

C
HELSEA
PUSHED
A
LETTUCE
leaf around her plate, trying to focus on what Vincent was saying instead of thinking about the fact that she’d never had dinner alone with a guy. Ever.

She wouldn’t have gone with him, either, except that he was one of the players. The first player who’d spoken to her and made her feel like a valued part of the team’s fan base. She’d started following the Phantoms because she loved the confined aggression of the sport. The rules and order that tempered physical conflict. It appealed to her hidden desire to kick ass and take names in a world that was too often cruel and unfair.

Now, finishing her Cobb salad in a quiet corner of the hotel’s restaurant, she listened to Vincent’s story from his teenage years about a cow who’d escaped an enclosure and wandered out into a deep ravine. He’d wrangled the fourteen-hundred-pound beast out the night before his high school hockey playoffs. She liked his stories of a life that seemed straight out of the pages of a kids’ book, complete with farm animals and morals, challenges and lessons. Order ruled Vinny’s world, just as it ruled hockey.

“So how did you do in the playoffs?” she asked, focusing on his stitched forehead now that she had no more food to distract her.

He passed his plate to the hovering waiter and she was relieved to see he’d eaten every last bite, too. She had huge issues with wasting food from back in the days when she’d begged at the back doors of restaurants at closing time.

“I scored a hat trick and we advanced to the next round.” He grinned, the smile crinkling the skin around his eyes. “My whole team knew that I’d been awake all night, and I wanted to make sure no one thought I was dragging the team down by being unprepared for the game.”

His good humor was infectious, making her smile, too. That in itself was pretty amazing given how nervous she’d been about spending time with him tonight. Alone.

Especially after he’d kissed the palm of her hand. Just thinking about that moment made her skin tingle. Beneath the linen tablecloth, she twined her fingers together and tried to squeeze away the sensation that still lingered there.

“You proved your point.” Her gaze connected with his and held until the clinking of silverware and conversations around them faded.

Warmth stirred inside her, making her self-conscious.

“It took me a while to learn I didn’t need to constantly prove myself.” He drummed his fingers on the table for a moment before he added, “Although I’m willing to do it again if I need to.”

“I’m sure you don’t need to prove anything to the team. You’ve already—”

“To you.” He snagged the attention of a passing waitress to ask for more water, giving Chelsea more physical space even as he crowded her thoughts with a notion that was both frightening and compelling at the same time. “I’m willing to prove myself to you, Chels. I just want a chance to know you better.”

The center of her palm throbbed where he’d kissed her, that sensitive patch of flesh reminding her that she couldn’t suppress her needs as a woman forever. Then again, how could she expect a great guy like Vinny to wait around while she battled old demons that didn’t have anything to do with him?

“I had fun tonight,” she started, not wanting to damage their friendship. “And you’re a great guy. I know that. So it wouldn’t be fair to ask you to—”

“Ask me anything.” He leaned forward again, elbows on the table, his hazel eyes more brown than green tonight in the flickering candlelight from a single white taper surrounded by fresh daisies.

His tone seemed so earnest that, for a moment, she forgot her point. What would it be like to be with someone so open? So willing to take a chance?

“I can’t. I wouldn’t feel right seeing you like this and knowing you had expectations of me that I’m not comfortable…fulfilling.” Although, considering how enticing that one kiss to her hand had been, she had the feeling she would dream about that and more with him tonight.

Just because she had sexual hang-ups didn’t mean she’d lost her carnal appetites.

“First of all, I have no expectations. I have hopes. Those are very different things.” He kept his voice low as the waitress passed them with an empty tray on her way to the kitchen.

“I would be a huge disappointment for you.” She’d kept the guys on the team at arm’s length for good reason. She wouldn’t want to sacrifice her special relationship with the Phantoms as a whole just because she got romantically entangled with one of them.

It went without saying that romantic entanglements would end in disaster, right? Although she had to admit, Vinny seemed like the patient sort.

“The only thing that’s going to disappoint me is if I let you slip away without telling you how much I like you.”

Her heart picked up speed, but in a good way. This was different from the times her heart raced during the fight-or-flight response, which was what she usually felt when a man got too close or pushed for more from her.

“You don’t even know me,” she reminded him, reaching for her wallet as the waitress came back with their check.

“I invited you,” he insisted, gently steering her hand back into her purse before she could open her wallet. “I’m buying.”

The busy young waitress seemed to conspire with him, snatching his credit card from his hand and flouncing off with the check.

“Thank you.” Chelsea tried to let it go, thinking Vinny shouldn’t have to cope with more than one of her hang-ups at a time. And right now, she was most concerned with settling the matter of future dates.

Or whatever they were calling them.

“And I do know you. Better than you realize.”

“Really?” She couldn’t keep the skepticism out of her voice.

“I know you drink three coffees a day and you like to buy them at a diner near the rink because the money goes to the old guy who runs the place instead of a faceless corporation.”

“I’ve probably recommended Arnie’s Coffee to the players a few times.” Although, to Vinny’s credit, that had been ages ago.

He appeared undaunted. In fact, he had her caffeine addiction already ticked off on the finger of his broad right hand.

“You worked at the same department store as Misty until you took the job in the Phantoms gift shop.” He leaned back into his seat, his wide shoulders making a depression in the red leather bolster. “You like the hours, but you’ve almost got your BSc in counseling from taking online courses in your free time. And you hope to use that degree in your quest to open a women’s shelter.”

Stunned, she didn’t even know what to say as the waitress returned with mints and a receipt.

“Did Misty tell you that?” she asked once they were alone again. Chelsea hadn’t revealed that dream with anyone but the other women who followed the team with her. Other women who’d shared the hellish nightmare of homelessness at a young age.

“No.” He relaxed his hands that had been keeping track of his knowledge of her. “I was in that business development class with you online last fall. Didn’t you ever look at the roster?”

She remembered a student in the discussion forums that posted as “Vincent” but not in a million years would she have guessed it was this Vincent. The one who had a full-time, lucrative career in the best hockey league in the world.

“Why on earth would you take business development online?” He could afford an Ivy League education. “I thought you graduated from Michigan State?”

“I decided I want an MBA even though I majored in math. I’m taking some extra business classes to get into an MBA program.”

She processed that, more curious by the minute about this man who was full of surprises.

“I wrote a business plan for a women’s shelter in that class, didn’t I?” She’d been proud of it, and what had started out as a simple project really took on a life of its own. “The assignment to develop the plan made me see how many ideas I could bring to something like that.” Biting her lip, she hesitated for a moment before she blurted, “You must have heard I was homeless for a long time as a teenager.”

It was such a huge part of her that anyone she spent time with was bound to find out sooner or later. She’d rather know up front if he couldn’t handle that. And as much as she told herself that those who minded didn’t matter, she found herself holding her breath, hoping Vinny wouldn’t think less of her.

“I know,” he said quietly. “And it floors me to think how hard it must have been to go from that kind of struggle to where you are now.”

He looked at her with genuine admiration in his eyes. It was so sincere that she felt a distinct tug in her heart. Pride, maybe. Or tenderness for someone who could see beyond the Homeless label.

The piano player who started his first set in the front of the restaurant didn’t begin to distract her from the pull she felt toward Vincent Girard. Turning him down would have been like pushing water uphill, and she didn’t think she could muster the will.

Especially as she became aware of his knee brushing hers under the table. An electric spark jumped from that point of contact to warm her skin all over.

“Thank you.” Suddenly shy about whatever was happening between them, she folded her napkin over her clean knife, wrapping the silverware in the linen. “It wasn’t easy. And it left scars.” Her eyes went to his, gauging his reaction, but as always, he looked at her with respect. Warmth. Friendship. She took a deep breath before she continued. “But I’m really proud that I found a new life for myself.”

His hand covered hers, his thumb reaching around to the underside of her palm and stroking her there, right where he’d kissed her earlier. The effect was dizzying, making her light-headed. Partly because she liked the way it felt. But she was also a little giddy from the fact that it seemed normal. Safe and exciting at the same time.

How did he do that?

“I hope one day you’ll trust me enough to tell me how you did it.” He circled that place on her palm, as if he was enjoying the memory of the kiss as much as she was. “But for now, I’m just hoping you’ll have dinner with me again soon. Not tomorrow because of the game. But maybe when we get back to Philly the next day.”

She had twenty other Phantom players on speed dial in case she freaked out and needed a bodyguard. But she already knew she wouldn’t. Not with Vincent. The insistent thump of her heartbeat in her chest and the tingle in her skin told her that she would be looking forward to seeing Vinny alone again.

So much so that she did something completely amazing and squeezed his hand back.

“I’d really like that.”

* * *

J
ENNIFER
SERIOUSLY
HOPED
the morning never arrived.

She lay tucked against Axel on top of the plush hotel bed, the white duvet soft against the outside of her thigh while Axel’s leg was warm and raspy against the inside. Her cheek fit perfectly just beneath his heart and she heard it thump steadily in one ear. The TV still glowed blue with a campy horror flick in the background, all the scariest bits removed for a more sensitive audience, apparently.

“I love watching movies with the sound off,” she said, always happy to talk about film. Besides, she wasn’t ready to talk about anything substantial with Ax yet.

The time would come soon enough when they’d have to face the ticking clock on a relationship with an end already in sight when she went back to New York.

“Why?” He brushed her hair off her temple, his big, broad palm so gentle it gave her goose bumps.

“As a filmmaker, I see the images better that way. I can think more about the visuals and the camera angles when I’m not distracted by the story.” She pointed to the screen where the antagonist—a mutant zombie killing everyone in the local high school—stood on top of a bridge and glared down at his next meal. “Like right there? They shot that from below the zombie to emphasize his power and her helplessness. And you see how big his shadow is behind him?”

“Believe me, I’ve known some people who cast a big shadow, people who have a powerful presence. I get what that means.” He brushed a kiss on the top of her hair where he lay with his head propped on a pillow. “But I wouldn’t have thought about it if you hadn’t pointed it out. You must really enjoy your job.”

“I feel fortunate to do work I love every day. It’s even better when, at the same time, I can make the art meaningful.” She traced a thick rope of scar tissue on his arm and wondered where he’d gotten it.

“I’m anxious to find out how you’re going to make the hockey documentary meaningful. But tell me more about the social media film you want to make. Why are you so gung ho about that one?”

She counted three steady beats of his heart before she answered.

“My younger sister was the victim of cyberbullying.” She still couldn’t think about those girls who’d tricked Julia without getting angry all over again. “Julia is fifteen and last fall she had a crush on an older boy. Somehow, a toxic clique of junior girls found out about it and they created a Facebook page for him. They took turns sending her messages, posing as the boy and pretending to like her.”

He kept up the even stroke along her temple, never even flinching when the zombie jumped out of the woods on the television screen. She liked that steadiness.