Playing for Hearts (97 page)

Nah, she wanted a normal relationship. He'd go slow. The wait would be worth it if she was happy. He punched in the code for the apartment and stepped inside, closing the door softly. Without making a sound, he walked through the dark into the living room.

Sex was the only thing they needed to try out to know if they were compatible in all areas, and he had all the confidence in the world after the kiss they'd shared that sleeping with her would rock his world.

The light came on. He whirled around, and everything he'd planned fell apart. Crista stood in front of him naked, vulnerable, and more beautiful than ever. He couldn't move or speak. His heart beat erratically. He gasped for air worse than a fish out of water. Either he was dying or he'd caught the biggest bass of his life.

Crista stood perfectly still at the entrance of the living room. A chill from her nervousness collided with the warmth from inside her body at seeing Bruce. The urge to bring her arms up and cover her naked body stayed in her head. Her body screamed with joy at the intent look coming from Bruce, and her decision to try again with him became stronger.

She'd tossed and turned for the last two hours, debating on whether to wake Bruce or save her confession for the morning when she was thinking straight. But she knew she'd chicken out if she didn't go for it now. She'd never expected him to walk through the door after coming back from Janelle's apartment. From having sex with the bitch. From satisfying himself while she lay wrestling with the biggest decision of her life.

His mouth softened and his eyes locked on hers. She rocked back on her foot, ready to bolt.

“Crista,” he mumbled, stepping toward her.

She raised her hand. “Don't.”

His brows lowered and he stopped. “What's wr—?”

“I can't do this,” she whispered, finally crossing her arms over her naked breasts. “I made a mistake.”

“No, you didn't.” Bruce nodded. “We can do this.”

She shook her head. He had no idea. “N—”

“Yes,” he whispered, and she was surprised when his words came out raw and pained. “You can because I heard you say you wanted me.”

“I changed my mind.” She inhaled swiftly, surprised that he'd heard her. “Don't do this to us. Please. We're friends, this will only come between us, and more than anything, I'm not willing to throw away years of depending on you to always be there for me. I need you more than a stupid mistake.”

“We're not a stupid mistake.” He stood in front of her, holding her, pressing his large hands against her bare back before she could open her mouth. “It'll only get better.”

He kissed her.

Shocked and humiliated, she could only sag against him, taking and believing him. She could no longer voice her opinion or formulate a thought. Her body liked what he was doing, and she trusted him. Stripped of all her defenses about why they shouldn't be standing in the living room—her naked, him dressed—kissing, she did the only thing she could manage to do.

She kissed him back.

Whether it was trepidation, familiarity, plain old forbidden lust, or a mix of all three, she quivered in response. His accustomed rugged scent combined with the warmth of his mouth, created an intoxicating aphrodisiac. Her leg came up with no help from her and wrapped around the roughness of his jeans.

Then Bruce lifted her off her feet. She sank her fingers into his hair without letting go of his mouth. A mouth so foreign and perfect to her, she couldn't get enough.

His lips urged her to open to him. Her heart raced, sending a tremor down her spine and settling in her lower back. She arched her pelvis, hooking her ankles behind his back as she deepened the kiss.

The rocking caress of his body rubbing against hers was her only hint that he carried her out of the room. She stroked his tongue, holding his head in place. The need to have more of him, to explore every inch of his body—a body that until recently, she'd taken for granted because it was his mind and heart that she loved—rolled through her.

Her world tilted. She gasped and landed on the bed, staring at Bruce. She blinked, suspended in time, unable to understand how crazy wild it was that she was flat on her back, naked in front of her best friend. Bruce settled between her legs, and the weight of him atop her body felt better than winning any race.

“I'm going to sink myself inside of you,” he whispered.

She nodded; a quiver rolled across her front at his promise and her nipples peaked. “I want that.”

The corner of his mouth tightened, and she formed her hand against his jaw. Thrumming his cheek, she knew she had everything right here with her. Her best friend was going to be her lover.

“Condom?”

She stilled. “A condom?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. I need to protect you,” he said.

Shit. She turned her head and scanned the room. Where was the last place she had sex? Had she ever bought condoms? Why couldn't she think?

“Uh.” She wrinkled her nose. “That might be a problem.”

Bruce kissed her neck, bringing her back to facing him, and said, “Stay here.”

She opened her mouth to ask him where she'd go with him on top of her, and his body left her. She stared at his back as he left the room. The second he was out of sight, she sat up and hugged her pillow.

How embarrassing. Who knew what Bruce was thinking. He'd come from Janelle's apartment, and no doubt that bitch was a talented, skilled, and a professional lover.
She'd
have condoms. God, they were probably monogramed with her initials on them.

Crista hung her head and closed her eyes. All she did was babble. Next shopping trip, she'd buy all the condoms and keep them next to the bed. Maybe even buy a crystal bowl and display them all as if they were pieces of candy she frequently partook in. She groaned and opened her eyes. If Bruce gave her a second chance, which he probably wouldn't, seeing as how she couldn't compare to Janelle, he'd never catch her unprepared again.

“Hey,” Bruce said, approaching the bed. “You okay?”

She frowned. “Truthfully?”

He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled her over beside him, wrapping his arm around her. “We've always been tight with each other. Nothing about that has changed.”

“Okay.” She laid her head on his chest, so he couldn't look at her face. “You just came back from screwing Janelle, and that's freaking me out a bit. I don't have any condoms because unlike you, I'm not a whore. I mean, I've slept with guys but it's not something I do in my own house, and you know my track record, I don't do boyfriends because of training. I feel stupid—”

“Shut up,” he whispered. “First off, I didn't sleep with Janelle.”

She lifted her head off Bruce and studied him. “You didn't?”

He shook his head. “I went outside to the parking garage to call Dominic and I didn't want you overhearing my conversation.”

“Why?” She sat up straighter.

“Because I heard every word you said earlier when you thought I was sleeping.” He inhaled sharply. “I wanted to tell someone.”

She slapped his chest. “Did not!”

“Yeah.” He brought her back around to his lap. “I've been thinking a lot.”

Oh, God. He'd changed his mind. She pinched the base of her neck. “About?”

“Sex. With you.” He hooked her neck and pulled her back. “Every thirty seconds like clockwork.”

“But Janelle … ”

“There's no Janelle. There never was, and never will be,” he said. “There's just you. Right here in bed, nice and warm. My best friend, who I want to fuck.”

“Vulgar,” she whispered, panting hard.

He grinned. “I'll show you vulgar … and dirty … and—”

“Shut up and do it.” She kissed him hard.

After she'd thoroughly kissed him, he stood up and undressed. She sat on the edge of the bed, enjoying the moment, filled with the wonderful feeling that he wanted her, that what they were doing was the right direction for them to go.

He dropped his shirt on her floor. She swallowed past the lump of emotions pressing down on her. He was gorgeous.

Broad, tanned shoulders filled her vision. His chest flexed, and the muscles tightened. She inhaled swiftly as lust, pure and simple female appreciation, coursed through her body. His roughened hands went to his belt. She leaned forward, her nails digging into the comforter on her bed. Eager to see him completely for the first time.

Bruce pushed his jeans off his hips and had them lying on the floor without pausing. She stared, enthralled at his hard cock. She had no idea why knowing Bruce went commando under his jeans impressed her, but it was hot.

He opened his hand. She smiled at the sight of the foil-packaged condom, and held out her arm to take the protection. She slid off the bed and kneeled in front of him. While tearing open the wrapper, she leaned forward and kissed his bare hip, and then the other, purposely avoiding the one part of him she wanted to touch.

Bruce's fingers tangled in her hair and pulled her head back. She gazed up into his face.

“You on your knees in front of me will make this a short night, sweetheart,” he said.

She rolled on the condom, taking her time. The heat coming off him excited her. Unable to deny herself, she slowly wrapped her fingers around his hardness. His pelvis thrust forward and he elicited a soft groan. She loved the way he responded, and she grew confident that it was her that he was enjoying.

He slipped his hands under her arms and picked her up, backing her to the bed until her legs hit the mattress, and she sprawled on the top. He put his knee to the mattress. “My turn.”

He settled between her legs, his mouth on her sex. Her legs tensed, and then went to liquid. Unable to move, breathe, or think, she felt.

She felt everything.

Every lick, suck, nibble controlled her body. Powerless and prized, she gave herself to him. Her neck arched. She squirmed underneath him, but his hands on her hips settled her down. Warmth spread throughout her limbs. She reached down between her legs and threaded her fingers through Bruce's hair, needing that connection, that proof that this was really happening.

Bruce growled against her. The vibration from the noise sent her hips off the bed. He palmed her ass, not letting her get away. Caught in his hold, she orgasmed hard, fast, and mind-blowingly wonderful.

To her surprise, Bruce continued to caress her with his tongue, letting her enjoy the after jolts continuing to ping her body in the most delightful way. She inhaled deeply and sighed. She smiled because even to her own ears, that was a soft, delicate moan. She'd never once mewed with a man.

But along with bliss came guilt. She closed her eyes and turned her head to the side. Her best friend was between her legs and—

His weight shifted and the warmth of his mouth trailed up her body, over her stomach, settling on her breast, and then on the other breast. Emotional overload and fear consumed her. What if the next time he looked at her, he'd see her as just another woman in the long line of lovers he'd had?

A tear rolled through her lashes, over her temple, and into her hair. She couldn't lose him. Who would she confide in? Who would support her career? She rubbed her eyes and inhaled a shuddering breath. Who'd stay up all night with her, talking about bait and the circumference of a bass's mouth?

“Sweetheart,” Bruce said, cupping her face with his hand. “Hey, are you crying?”

She opened her eyes. Concern and confusion met her gaze. “I'm okay,” she whispered, hating the way her voice broke.

He was used to confident women who went from one orgasm to the next without messing their makeup or breaking a sweat. She lay underneath him, damp from the ride he'd taken her on, and an emotional basket case.

“Liar,” he whispered. “Talk to me.”

“We're best friends,” she said, hoping that explained everything.

Bruce's mouth softened and his gaze never left hers. He stayed silent for a few seconds, watching her intently, and then he said, “It's more than sex. It's only you I need to be inside of to feel like I belong. No one—” he held her face tighter “—I mean, no one, makes my heart come alive like you do, whether I'm right here between your legs wanting to have sex with you or hearing your voice on the phone because we're in different parts of the world. It's you and me. That's never going to change.”

“Seriously?” She held on to his arms, holding him against her.

“Yeah.” Bruce glanced down between their bodies. “Promise you.”

She ran over his confession in her mind, so she'd never forget. “Do you think we could, uh, since you haven't and I did, maybe you'd like to—”

“Finish?” He stilled above her and the hard length of his cock throbbed against the inside of her thigh. “You can't stop me, sweetheart.”

He lowered his head and nuzzled her neck as he slid into her wetness. She trembled at the invasion, the pressure, the size of him. “Oh, boy … ” she whispered into his hair.

His pelvis pressed into her and her whole body sang. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on to him to keep from careening into another orgasm.

She'd had no idea sex could be this way. She was used to one time and she was done. It was over; there was no going on. Her pussy pulsed, squeezing Bruce's cock, as if proving her wrong. There was more pleasure to come, and she wasn't one to argue with Bruce when she was feeling this good, this happy, this excited.

Bruce pushed up on his hands, hovering atop her, staring down into her face. She stroked his jaw, loving the way he was holding on for her.

His shoulder muscles bunched, and he thrust inside her. Hooded eyes gazed down at her. She arched her pelvis, locking her ankles behind his thighs. Direct pressure hit her in the exact spot she needed every time he plunged in more deeply. Frantic and needy, she undulated her hips trying to catch every caress, every nudge, every stroke.