Playing It Close (25 page)

His jaw clenched. She didn’t know it, but she’d just nailed every single one of his sore points. “I was a fantasy?”

“Better than a fantasy. You were a perfect reality.”

“You knew who I was the whole time.”

“Y-yes.”

“Was part of the fantasy the fact you were sleeping with the England and Legends captain?”

Her lips softened like she would say something, but nothing came out.

“It’s all right if you admit it. I just need to know.” It wasn’t all right, but it was like an infected wound that he couldn’t keep from scratching. The suspicion had grown itchier over the month, and he was ready to douse it in kerosene if that would only ease the annoyance for a little while.

To her credit, she didn’t break eye contact. She chewed her bottom lip as if she were just as conflicted as he. Finally, she said, “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Kerosene burned. He bit the inside of his cheek and slowly nodded as he digested her admission.

“I can tell you this, Liam. I’ve never built up an image in my head of what you men must be like away from the pitch. I’m not one of those fans who worships the players or sticks around the stadium afterward for a chance to have a pint with you. I admire the way you play. You’re obviously incredibly talented and hardworking. But—until I met you in person—you didn’t occupy much of my head space once I left the stadium.”

“So I was just a form of entertainment for you.”

She cringed. “Before we met, yes. I’m sorry. That sounds horrible now.”

Actually, it sounded promising to him. “And once we met?”

“You made me laugh. And you gave me your clothes instead of making me feel awkward or vulnerable about being barely decent in a lift with you. Plus, you’re not bad to look at.”

“I’m no Ash Trenton.”

Her gaze flicked to the side. When he followed it, he found a small rubbish bin next to her desk. A piece of crumpled glossy paper lay on top. “Fucking hell. That’s not what I think it is, is it?”

He got up before she could answer and yanked the paper out, smoothing it on the desk. Ash lounged on a bench press like a pasha, naked except for the rugby ball lying on his lap, and smirked up at him. “I can’t believe you’ve held onto this. I’d almost prefer you to be a football fan.”

“Liam, you’re right—you’re no Ash Trenton. You’re much better. I look at that picture and I question my own sanity. Besides, it was just a joke between me and my sister, me keeping it up for so long.”

A sudden, terrible thought hit him. “That’s not what your ‘special version’ of yesterday’s photo shoot is about, is it? Andre’s not going to Photoshop Trenton’s head on my body?”

Her jaw dropped and she slowly shook her head. “Damn. I wish I’d thought of that. Do you have his phone number?”

Her teasing tone called him a fool, and he considered her carefully. Strangely enough, the fact she hadn’t tried to lie about whether being a fan had played a role in being with him made him feel better—but that was tempered by the fact she’d kept this photo. “When we met, you knew I was lying about who I was, and you let me believe I was anonymous. You even went so far as to pretend you like football.”

“Yeah, that was the hardest part of the charade.”

He smiled before taming his amusement. “I don’t know why, but it meant something to me that I could just be myself around you. It was important to me.”

She stood and walked slowly toward him. When she reached the desk, she tilted her head back to look at him, but she didn’t touch him. “I think I understand.”

“You do?”

She nodded. “It was similar for me. I got a taste of fame—or infamy—during the worst parts of the inquiry. All I wanted to do was get away somewhere that I wouldn’t be recognized or hounded. The fact that I didn’t exist for you before we met was an aphrodisiac. I can imagine it would be even more so for you. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you that in reality.”

“No, you can’t give that to me. But maybe we have a second chance.”

One of her brows arched. “You—you want...”

“You, mostly. I want you. But I also want to know that you see who I really am, not whatever image you might’ve built up in your imagination based on seeing me in the news.”

She pulled in a deep breath, and she let it out slowly, dragging out the torture as he waited for a response. “I can’t do that, Liam. I can’t get involved with a colleague. I’m sorry.”

He leaned closer. It only took a few millimeters for her to be backed against the desk with nowhere to look but at him. “I’m not your colleague. We’re not employed by the same people.”

“But we still have to work together. I can’t—”

“I can’t, either. I can’t keep seeing you at matches and events without wanting you. I need to do something about this, Tess. It’s distracting me, and right now I need to be completely on top of my game.”

“You need to get me out of your system or not see me at all, is that it?”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that. Sleeping with you won’t get you out of my system. It won’t make you
less
attractive to me. If you turn out to be a stark-raving psycho,
that
will make you less attractive to me. I want...I want to figure out what’s going on between us, and I don’t think talking about it will be enough.”

She was quiet so long he’d started to work out his exit strategy by the time she finally said, “I’d like to get to know you better.”

He grinned, a stupid gust of relief blowing through him. Eager to touch her, he leaned down, closed his eyes...and felt her finger push against his lips. He stilled and opened his eyes.

“I want to make sure you know who I am too. I come with plenty of baggage. And I don’t want you to have any doubt about why I’m sleeping with you when—if—I finally do.”

“If?” Fucking
if?

“We made a lot of assumptions about each other in the beginning. Let’s not make that mistake again. The next time we’re in bed together, I want to know we’re both there because we can’t keep our hands off each other, not because we’re unhappy with ourselves.”

Fucking hell, this wasn’t what he’d pictured at all. “Let’s not be hasty, sweetheart.”

“Exactly. Let’s not be hasty. We have to work together all season, and we both take our commitments to our jobs seriously. It could ruin mine if anyone finds out we’ve been together. I don’t want to risk us rushing into something and having it all fall apart in a way that affects the partnership. I can’t go through the humiliation of torpedoing my own career all over again, especially when it’s my cousin’s company we’re talking about. Getting involved with you is a risk for me, Liam, and it’s not a risk I want to jump into.”

His gut sank. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying let’s not rush this. We’ve already had sex, and we know how good it is.”

“Good? Try mind-blowing.”

A huge smile spread across her lips. “Yeah, mind-blowing. So let’s see if we fit together in other ways.”

He groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “You want us to avoid doing the one thing we know we’re good at together?”

She hesitated, and hope flared that there might be room for negotiation. “Not really. But I think it might be for the best in the long run.”

“I can’t believe I’m even considering agreeing to this,” he muttered. His first lesson in discovering who he was away from the rugby pitch: either a very patient man or a complete sucker.

But then Tess pinched the corner of the calendar photo and tugged it away from him. She flipped a switch on a small shredder sitting on the desk and fed it Ash’s photo, flaring a perverse happiness inside him. Maybe some things were worth being a sucker for.

He ran his open palm up her arm to her shoulder, her neck, her cheek, loving the way she leaned into his touch. “What are you worried about?”

She nibbled her lower lip for a second. “My job. We have to work together, Liam. The Tarrington inquiry has dragged me through the mud and exposed things about my life that were humiliating enough to experience alone, much less having them bandied about in the press. I just want to be really cautious.”

“You don’t want anyone to know about us—is that it?”

“That’s partly it. It’s definitely a requirement.”

“I’m fine with that.” More than fine. All of his relationships had been in the public eye. Whatever was happening with Tess, it was different and he wanted to treat it that way, needed to keep it private until he could figure out what it was.

“And if things don’t work out between us, I don’t want to have to watch you play every weekend and be involved in your career. It’s difficult enough after Venezuela, but if we give this a real chance now and discover we just don’t work—”

He pressed his lips to her mouth, silencing her except for the breathy moan she made when his tongue touched hers. Holding her close, he put all his powers of persuasion into the kiss, invading and retreating, murmuring encouragement as she refused to let him back away, following him, lifting onto her toes so she could get closer and press her advantage. He loved it when a woman showed him what she wanted, and Tess clearly wanted
him
even if she had qualms about taking him.

He broke away, their lips making a gentle smacking sound. They both breathed heavily, wrapped around each other because they couldn’t get close enough. Leaning his forehead against hers, he whispered, “Starting next week, my life will be all about the World Cup. I won’t be playing for Legends, so you won’t see me around. We won’t be working together. I won’t even be living in my own flat most of the time. I’ll pretty much be sequestered at a hotel across town. No women allowed at the hotel. Not even Twitter to distract me. I’ll have fuck-all free time, but if I get even two seconds for myself I want to spend them with you.”

She tipped her head back and captured his lips, sliding her hand into the hair at his temple to hold him still while she kissed him. When she pulled away, she took a deep mouthful of air and plunged them both into the unknown with one breathy word. “Deal.”

Chapter Fourteen

Tess found herself suddenly airborne, thanks to two large palms cupping her bum and lifting her off her feet. Liam strode through her kitchen and down the hall, kissing her until she lost track of where they were. She had just enough brain power left to cling to his neck and say, “Dinner?”

“It’ll keep.” His mouth settled over hers again, maintaining contact as he murmured, “Bedroom?”

“Upstairs.”

He broke the kiss as he trotted with her up the stairs. Wrapping her legs around his waist so he wouldn’t drop her, she pressed her lips against the sensitive skin under his ear. He groaned as he made it to the landing. “Which door?”

“Up one more flight.”

He cursed. “Why do you have such a big house?”

She didn’t have the breath to answer. It’d been a status symbol at the time she’d bought it. What single woman needed three guest rooms? But she’d fallen in love with the place, and—not needing a dick extension—she couldn’t care less about owning a sports car like most of her male colleagues, so why not buy the house?

Liam made it to the second floor and practically jogged into her bedroom. Setting her on her feet next to the bed, he whipped his shirt off and started flicking open the buttons of her shirt before she had a chance to gain her equilibrium. Head swimming from the rush upstairs, the fact she would get to sleep with him again and her fear that doing so would lead to her downfall all over, she sat heavily on the edge of the mattress and pressed her forehead against his abs, waiting for reality to return.

His fingers left her buttons, sweeping through her hair and cradling the back of her head without trying to budge her. “Tess, you all right?”

“Yeah.” Perfectly, perfectly perfect. She kissed his navel, trailing her fingertips lightly across the muscles of his tight abs and down to the waistband of his khaki trousers. “More than okay.”

She popped the button open and slid his zip down with infinite slowness. Their first time together had been impatient and fast, an explosion of desire and longing. Their second and third times had been more leisurely, giving them time to explore each other’s bodies and discover their most sensitive parts. Liam had one right here, right where his skin stretched between his groin and his hip bones. She ran her tongue along it, eager to explore it again.

Pushing his trousers and boxer briefs down, she liberated his erection. It popped out, as obviously eager for playtime as she was.

He groaned. “God, baby, yes. Take your shirt off before you do that.”

He didn’t give her a chance to obey before yanking at the placket of her shirt. The last few buttons pinged as they bounced off the hardwood floor. Jerking the shirt down her arms, he left it gathered at her wrists, trapping her arms behind her. She tried to pull free, but he tipped her head back and gazed down at her with lust-filled eyes. “Only your mouth this time. No hands.”

She smiled, braced herself with her hands on the mattress behind her and arched her back to thrust her breasts out. Closing her eyes and letting her head fall back, she said, “This bra unhooks in the front.”

Needing no other explanation, he found the clasp and flipped it open. The cups fell to the sides, and he shoved the straps down to the shirt holding her wrists hostage. His fingertips swirled around her nipples, and she sucked in a shuddering breath from the jolt of pure pleasure. Her nipples tightened into hard darts. They were big—something she’d always been self-conscious about since they didn’t resemble the cute little buds often portrayed in novels and the few porn videos she’d seen. Proportionately, they took up too much of her breast, unlike the nipples on the strippers at the clubs she used to go to after work.

But Liam didn’t seem to notice any of that. If he did, he didn’t mention it. She opened her eyes to watch him toe off his shoes and socks, kick his trousers and pants across the room and stare at her breasts as he knelt on the mattress with his knees either side of her hips. Still arched back, she started to lean forward to take his cock in her mouth, but he stopped her by cradling her cheek. “Wait.”