Mica (Rebel Wayfarers MC) (12 page)

Thankfully, he still wore his boxer briefs, but they had slipped down over his hips a bit. The thin fabric did nothing to hide the breadth, length, and shape of his massive, hard cock from her gaze, the tip of the swollen head peeking out of his waistband, glistening wetly.

Recognizing his arousal, her core clenched again tightly, and the tip of her tongue unconsciously darted out and dragged across her bottom lip. She brought her eyes back to his face to find his features had tightened, his jaw clenched powerfully, and his amazing, deep blue eyes had focused on her mouth. Closing his eyes, she watched as he clenched his jaw again and said between his teeth, “It’s early still, so why don’t you go back to sleep, Mica? I have to go soon; my driver will be here to pick me up.”

Rolling stiffly away from her, he pulled to a sitting position on the edge of the bed and reached for his pants, which were lying across the back of a nearby chair. Stepping into them as he stood, he walked to the bathroom with a gloriously bare chest and back, his muscles flexing as he swayed across the room. His pants were barely hanging on his hips without being fastened or having the belt done up. He looked impassively at her as he shut the bathroom door, watching as she jerked her eyes away from his silhouette in the doorway and closed them.

16 -
            
Waking alone

Sometime later that morning, Mica woke again and knew within a breath she was alone in the bed; in fact, she believed she was alone in the house. Daniel’s presence triggered a deep and physical reaction in her, and now she was painfully aware of his absence. Stretching her arms over her head, she wondered at her response to him last night. He made her feel safe and cared for, and stirred sensual feelings in her too.

When she had seen the head of his wide cock, swollen and leaking that early fluid, she had gotten incredibly hot and aroused, and she didn’t understand his reaction. He had shut her down, totally shutting her out. Now she wondered if he maybe had a girlfriend, or simply didn’t like her. A man that good looking would not lack for companionship she was sure, but why had he stayed in her bed last night if he didn’t want her?

No
, she remembered all of a sudden,
he wasn’t in her bed; he was on it
. He had been very careful to keep lots of barriers between them, and she was the one who had asked him to stay. She’d practically begged him, so she figured he was probably just being nice.

Turning that thought over in her head, she realized he was being a gentleman, hiding a normal, early morning erection he felt might have embarrassed her. He probably likes his women willowy and stylish, where she was rounded a bit and happier in flannel, sweatshirts, and jeans. Her mind went to the ride home, remembering a hot hardness pressing into her buttocks, but now she suspected her memory was wrong. She snorted, thinking it was probably the seatbelt; that would be about right.

That’s the second time in a year a near-stranger has undressed me in my bedroom without sleeping with me, or even really making a pass
, she thought.
That’s got to be a record of either base stupidity, or impressive unattractiveness.
Ugh.
  Dragging her legs to the edge of the bed, she sat up for a second and then stood. Pushing through the stiffness of her shoulder, she brought her arms overhead and stretched up onto her toes.
Dang, that felt good, even if it hurt
, she thought. “Time to get back in the saddle, Mischy,” she told herself, moving to the closet to grab clothes for the day.

Strolling into the bathroom, she cautiously looked at herself in the wide mirror over the granite double sinks and barked with laughter. Her hair was standing out from her head every which way, stiff with sweat and—
wait, was that?
—yes, still a little blood, and untamed by a brush or hair tie. Indelicately lifting an arm and sniffing her pit, she made a face at her somewhat-musty smell, knowing she had been unable to take anything other than a sponge bath since the mugging. At least Jess hadn’t been able to talk her into makeup last night, so she didn’t have raccoon eyes. No wonder he left so fast; he probably had never seen anyone less attractive than she was this morning.

17 -
            
Apron strings

Pulling the door open, Daniel barged into the team manager’s office in a rush, carrying three different newspapers under his arm. He was also holding a bakery bag with his teeth, and a large cup of coffee in each hand. Nathan DeWalt looked up from his computer screen, pulling a gnawed pencil from between his teeth. Taking notice of the logo on the bakery bag, he grinned broadly in amusement at his friend’s blatant effort to butter him up with some his favorite treats from I Ache, You Ache Cupcakes. “Mmmph,” Daniel grunted at him, holding out a paper cup of premium coffee towards him, gesturing with the coffee, “mmmph!”

Laughing out loud, Nate took the coffee, and reached out to take the bag of cupcakes too. “What are you up to this morning, Daniel?”

Relieved of his burden, Daniel grinned back at him. “Did you see the papers yet, man?” He was excited and wanted to share this with someone who had worked as hard or harder than any other person in the franchise to ensure that their team made the playoffs. “Every fucking paper has something about us, Nate; it’s pretty cool!” He wanted to be more mature about it, but this was what he had wanted for years. He finally had a team so in sync and filled with talent that they could not only
go
to the playoffs, but maybe even win. The articles he’d read this morning so far were all singing the same song: the Mallets could win it all.

“All right, on to business. Break it down for me, Nate. Who’s riding the edge of injury this week?” he asked, knowing that every week at least one player had physical weaknesses that required skilled attention to keep them from becoming more serious. The brutal grind of two or three regular season games per week took its toll on everyone, and anyone on the team was a candidate for the kind of injuries that could put them on the Injured Reserve list for a week or more.

With several hard games looming, he wanted everyone to experience playing at the top level of their skill and capability. Everyone knew each win depended on every team member. Top that off with traveling to away games, and exhaustion would also play a part.

Nate uncapped his coffee, blowing on it softly. He watched the steam drift off the surface of the liquid, and then eyed his friend, who was nearly bouncing around the office, filled with nervous energy. “Daniel, I heard from Jason this morning. Did you really take the guys to Jackson’s last night?” He had been a little startled by that news, but knowing what had happened earlier in the week, as well as Davis Mason’s joint role in interrupting that mugging, he was less surprised than he expected.

Setting down the hot coffee after a cautious sip, he snagged a red velvet cupcake from the bag with a victorious grin. “Who was the gal you left the bar with? Jason was laughing so hard he nearly couldn’t talk. Something about a night-long hard-on, a waitress apron, and a lesbian, but since it sounds like a really bad joke, I could have heard that last bit wrong.”

Daniel snorted laughter. “Jason didn’t get it entirely wrong. He was hitting on a gal all night, who he finally figured out has a girlfriend of her own.” Grabbing for the bakery bag, he took his time selecting his favorite from the lot, finally settling on a dark chocolate cupcake to go along with his dark roast coffee. “That girlfriend owns this bakery.” He shook the bag. Watching Nate take a big bite of his cupcake, he snickered at the amount of frosting he had gotten in his beard. “Jess was nice to him though; she let him down easy.” Looking around for a napkin, piece of paper, or a tissue, he stepped to the sidebar and grabbed a roll of paper towels to tear off two, handing one to Nate.

Nate thanked him, taking the towel and picking up a clipboard. “Okay, here’s the bad news. After last night’s game, we’ve got three bad strains: one upper body, one groin, and one oblique. I think we need to bring in that trainer you’ve used in the past, Robert Smith. Without him to rein them in, the guys will simply hit the gym and bust ass, and they won’t have time to heal. Other than that, it’s just the old guys like you, who bruise easily.”

Nate picked up his coffee and took another drink. “We have a week-and-a-half before the next away game, and we’ll be going to Milwaukee for that one. I’ve got Janice working on arrangements to get the equipment up a couple days early, and she’s going to book three nights lodging too. I want us on the ice for two full days there, because they use thinner layers early in the build and it changes the resistance.” Sipping again, he asked, “So, who was the gal you left the bar with, Daniel?”

Knowing his friend would keep asking, Daniel decided to put off answering a little longer, stretching it out to torture his buddy. “What time did Jase and the guys finally leave the bar; do ya know? It was a pretty full crowd there last night. We found out that the motor club guys are huge Mallets fans on top of everything.” Breaking his cupcake into four pieces, Daniel ate the first piece neatly, wiping his fingers on his paper towel, and then picking up his own coffee cup to take a drink. “There were a lot of gals there too; did Jase mention anything in particular about one of them?”

“You bastard, who is she?” Nate barked, “You haven’t had a date in far too long, and if this one has you wearing a waitress apron, I’d like to meet her!”

Laughing at the visual, Daniel said, “I carried our drinks to the table, but there was no uniform in sight. She’s the woman from the mugging.” He sighed. “It was her first outing since going home from the hospital, and she looked pretty rough. Mason said she wasn’t taking her pain meds, so two drinks into the evening, she was tired and ready to go home.” He attempted nonchalance, “It was going to be a while before her friends could chauffeur her home, so I had Samuel take her home.”

Looking at him over the rim of his coffee cup, Nate drew his brows down into a frown. “That’s not quite how Jase told it, Danny Boy.”

Dragging his fingers through his hair, Daniel wondered why he was so resistant to talking about Mica with Nate. “I carried her out and into the car. She’s really banged up, and I feel bad I didn’t get there sooner to keep her from getting bashed around. So yeah, I carried her out of the bar, took her home, and put her to bed,” he saw Nate’s brows crawling towards his hairline in surprise, so he added, “by herself,” telling himself it was true—he had laid
on top
of the bed next to her, not in it.

18 -
            
Holding on

Daniel walked out of Nate’s office and turned down the hallway, heading towards his own space. His mind wandered, musing and turning over thoughts of his reactions to everything about Mica Scott. He had wondered about having a hero complex, but this was clearly more. He was attracted to her in every setting so far, not only when she was in danger. Shit, he’d had an erection nearly the entire time he sat near her in the bar, even when he thought about desperately unsexy things—like sharpening skate blades and athletic cups—in an effort to quell the rise in his pants.

He was pretty sure Jase knew about his rock-hard condition last night, and was damn sure Jess did after her jokes at his expense. Mica fortunately was unaware while at Jackson’s, but he knew for certain she had felt the stirring of his arousal beneath her ass cheeks during the ride to her house. He was glad she had told them her address after they got in the car; it might have been hard to explain how Samuel knew where she lived otherwise. After helping in her rescue, Daniel had been so obsessed with Mica he had pumped Mason for all the information he could get in the hours they spent waiting together at the hospital for her to wake up. He felt like he’d been starving for any info at all, including her address—which Mason didn’t divulge, but told him where his own house was, and Daniel knew they were neighbors—updates about her brother, her job, and a summary of her personality. What was wrong with him? Why did this woman hold such mystique for him?

Sitting in his office chair, he twisted to look out the window at the Chicago skyline. High above the dingy snow on the street, he loved how the rising finger of what would always be the Sears Tower to him
looked against the morning sky. Putting his hands behind his head, he leaned backwards, stretching his feet and legs out in front of him, then crossing his legs at the ankle and closing his eyes.

Mica’s face quickly swam to the surface of his thoughts as he remembered staying up all night watching her sleep and listening to her breathe. He had reached out a few times to stroke along her cheekbone,
but instead of touching her, he found his hand hovering millimeters above her skin. He struggled to quell his rising anger at the bruises he saw there on her face and remembered elsewhere on her body.

He’d been close enough to feel her heat, but he hadn’t wanted to risk waking her with his touch. Seeing by her face that she’d not been sleeping well since the attack, he decided if it made her feel more secure to have him lying beside her, he would make sure she had full advantage of his presence.

He had moved his hand, still hovering those millimeters above the silky expanse of her skin, across her face and down the column of her neck, pausing for a delicious moment at that dip in her throat that he found so sexy and attractive. He had taken a slow breath then, drawing in the scent of her; it smelled like sandalwood mixed with vanilla, and was incredibly arousing. He had been so hard all night lying there next to her, but had been careful to keep his hands away from himself, as well as her, not wanting to freak her out if she woke and saw him masturbating beside her. How crass that would be, and not the treatment she deserved at all.