ROMANCE: SPORTS ROMANCE: Bad Boys of Sports: A Complete Collection (Alpha Male, Football, Hockey Secret Baby Romance) (Contemporary Sports Romance) (35 page)

CHAPTER 4

The sellers of the land Kiara decided on turned out to be tough hagglers, but Kiara was tougher. She’d managed to get them to back down by a few thousand when they finally signed the contract.

“When do the contractors start?” Steve asked her as they finished up in his office.

A small frown dashed over her face for a few seconds. “Soon. I’ve got everything arranged to start next week. They’re fast and reliable, so they should be able to finish it in record time.”

They bid their farewells to one another, and she headed back to her car to collapse in the driver’s seat with the same scowl from earlier.  The contracting company she’d hired was one that Owen recommended, which made her think of him immediately.

He’d been distant the last few weeks. They’d planned to hang out a few times, but each time, it seemed to fall through with some excuse.  He sounded ill when she spoke to him last, and this worried her more than anything.

“Men can be too proud when they’re sick as a dog,” her mother told her.  Kiara’s late father was often the same way.  “You should check on him, dear.  I can cook you a pot of chicken soup to take to him.  That’s the way to a man’s heart – through some down home comfort food.” 

“You’re right; I really should check on him.  And the soup would be so thoughtful and sweet of you, mom, but I’m telling him the truth that it’s from you, not me.” 

She buckled her seatbelt to weigh her options.  He didn’t live with anyone, and his parents had moved to the next town over several years ago.

Her fingers found the radio button. A woman’s haunting vocals came on, a song about a witch. She shivered and punched the button to turn it off again. Chest heaving harder than usual, she pressed a hand to her heart with heated cheeks. 

Witches don’t exist. 

She repeated that on the whole drive over to Owen’s house followed with hopes of his good health.  He lived in a charming country house on the other side of town.  As the handsome home came into view, she spotted his truck in the driveway, and her heart pumped excitedly. 
So, he was home
, she sighed in relief.

Her car pulled up alongside his, and she parked it.  Outside his door, she knocked.  There was no answer.  She peered through the window to see a few lights on in the back.  Was that his bedroom?  Her heart hammered in her chest as she tried the door.  It was open and gave way to her intrusion.

“Owen?” She called out.

There was a small groan from the back.  She darted towards it.  It was the master bedroom with the shutters on the windows flung wide open.  Owen was lying down on his bed, outstretched on his back, arm flung over his forehead with a groan.  He was shirtless, which she noticed immediately; as her eyes absentmindedly raked down to admire his chiseled abs, shiny with a thin layer of sweat.  She gulped.

“Kiki?” he said, voice weak.

She remembered herself and flew to his side as his hazy eyes opened to register her.

“Owen!” She pressed a hand against his face. Sweat collected around his forehead and she mopped it up with the back of her sleeve. He was burning up.

“Owen, you’re sick!” she cried.  He flushed, the only color now in his face.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he muttered softly. “I’ve just had a fever that’s been coming and going the last two weeks, that’s all.”   

“Have you gone to see a doctor?”

“Yeah, and she just sent me home with medicine.  Said it’s just a cold.”

“That’s it,” she said and stood straight up while crossing her arms.  Her firm look regarded him protectively. 

“I’m now your official nurse, Owen Cunningham, since you can’t seem to grasp the gravity of the situation.”

He chuckled. “Kiki, you passed out in biology when we went over the organ systems.”

“Yeah, well I’m older now,” she reminded him. “And I brought some homemade soup.  Don’t worry, my mom made it, not me.”

As he shifted to turn over to face her, she averted her eyes from his rippling abs and felt her throat dry painfully. He tried to sit up, and she rushed to help him up.

“Is it Mimi’s famous chicken noodle?”

“The one and only.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m starving.”

His house wasn’t far out of the way. It was easy to stop by on her errands for the store to make sure he was taking his medicine and drinking enough fluids. She’d picked up a multi-vitamin for him and he felt like that might be helping.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t see the doctor again?”

He shrugged as he swallowed a vitamin while she sat beside him. “I just need another day in bed.  I’ll be fine.”

A pause settled over the room as he cleared his throat, eyes darting to her.

“Kiki?”

“Yes?” She dropped the magazine she’d been flipping through while waiting for him to finish taking his medicine.

“Don’t laugh.  Do you…” his voice trailed off with some embarrassment, “Do you think that woman was a witch?”

Kiara froze. 
No.  Witches are not real
.  She shook her head fiercely and saw him still with an uncertain face.

“Owen,” she muttered and reached to touch his face, which was warm against her hand, but he shivered underneath her soft skin. “Maybe your fever isn’t making you think straight.”

She inhaled sharply as his hand circled her wrist, and pulled her down next to him.  His eyes burned as they locked with hers.  A look she’d seen in animals when they were cornering their prey.  Her body yearned for him to touch more of her.  She pushed away the thoughts of sweating out his fever in the naughtiest way possible.

“Owen?”

He seemed dazed, but his eyes were now on her lips.  Their chests could brush against one another’s if they both leaned in closer.  Her breath grew heavier, coming out in shorter pants as his grip became tighter. She felt the pull of gravity or lust or some magic between them. He leaned into her, lips brushing the smooth skin of her cheek. Her blood spiked, and he sighed against her neck, sending trembles of delight down her back and up again.

He smelled of spices and earth. She inhaled deeply and nearly groaned at how intoxicating it was. His other hand went to caress her face, and she shuddered beneath the touch.

“Kiara,” he said in a breathy voice.  They looked at one another with molten eyes. Their lips were so close.

Her stomach clenched.

“No,” she whispered and drew back, knowing she wasn’t ready for this.  His eyes softened in confusion.  She shook her head as her eyes grew hot with tears.  “You’re not thinking straight, Owen.  I’ve- I’ve got to leave.”

She was off, apologies tumbling underneath her breath.  The drive home was a blur.  She crashed onto her living room sofa with stars in her eyes.

Owen had almost kissed her.

She had wanted him to.

Her eyes closed as she cursed at her own actions. How could she explain how badly she didn’t want to lose him as a friend?  That she wanted to taste his lips but feared things would never be the same if they went too far.

Her memory dredged up her most recent ex-boyfriend, a business school classmate who’d decided it was best for them to part ways since his dreams were in New York, and hers were in Prescott.  Coming to Prescott meant a fresh start for Kiara, and to jump into something romantic with a friend could prove to be disastrous.  Owen just wasn’t rebound material.  Owen was just… Owen.

She pulled a blanket over her head and tried to stop thinking about his broad bare shoulders and muscular arms. His glistening pecs.  Her dreams pulled her in as she dozed into sleep, tossing and turning on the cushions. In the shadows, his eyes flashed the way they had. Animalistic. Her sweat coated her body as she rolled back and forth with painful groans.

The desire she had for him was real, and she didn’t need a dream to remind her of that. 

CHAPTER 5

In her home office, Kiara had put up a vision board of everything she wanted out of her new store. In big, bold letters at the top of a large corkboard, it read: The Harvest.

Her mother assured it wasn’t too cheesy, and she had to stop second-guessing herself every step of the way. It was nerve-wracking even as she had fun picking out shades of green and lavender to line up next to one another, trying out different color palettes for the storefront.

She stared at a graphic of a vegetable cut-out on her board that she draw inspiration from, and was reviewing the files of local organic farmers she had recently met with when her phone rang. She checked the caller I.D. 
Owen
.

Her stomach flipped and bit her lip as her hand hovered above the phone.  It had been a few days since she’d gone and run off with little explanation.  She had called to check on him the other day but their conversation was awkward, and neither one mentioned that moment on his bed.

She accepted the call.

“Owen?”

“Kiara,” his voice sounded parched and was breaking. It sputtered, and he coughed hoarsely. She sat up straight in her chair. An icy wave washed over her as she gripped the phone with white knuckles.

“I’m not doing so well.”

“Owen, I’m coming over,” she said.

“No,” his protest was so weak that she could hardly hear them at all. “I think something’s wrong with me. I’m not... I’m not right.”

“Owen,” she snapped sharply, “I’ll be over in a minute.”

There was another hacking series of coughs on the other line and a groan. The line went dead right after.  She leaped from the table to grab her handbag that was slung on a coat rack in the corner.

She’d never driven that fast in her life. Not even when she’d been late to meetings with her investors back in the city. Her SUV swung into the driveway, and she flew out of it, not even stopping to make sure her lock button had worked. His door was opened. Her stomach dropped as she ripped it open and dashed down the hallway,

Something wasn’t right. The smell of acidic dirt burned her nostrils. She coughed and pushed through to his bedroom. His heavy breathing drifted into the hallway. Her hand found the doorknob, and she pulled it open.

No Owen, but there was someone.

…Or rather
something
.

A great big bear, the kind that she’d only seen in magazines and on zoo field trips, was standing next to Owen’s bed. It lifted its head up at her entrance and then she saw its long, sharp teeth as it huffed at her.  She inched her foot back, but the bear stood up on its hind legs and let out a mighty roar that shook the house as he bared his impossibly sharp fangs at her. Her jaw dropped open, and she tried to scream, but nothing would come out.

The beast lurched toward her. She turned on her heel and ran for her life. The scream finally came as she thundered down the stairs. It tore after her, claws ripping apart wood behind her. She dashed to the small corner bathroom, throwing herself inside and dragging a chair to trap the underside of the doorknob.

She collapsed against the cold tile, her hot skin slipping as she pressed herself against the shower door. The bear battered the door with an enormous guttural cry. Her fingers fumbled for the phone in her purse, but it dropped as the door splintered open.

It was just her and the beast.

Her heart seized. Fear had never rocked her body this way. She felt the room begin to grow dark as the animal lunged towards her, swiping its giant claw at her shirt, ripping it open.  She shut her eyes tight, feeling her death imminently looming. 

A human cry. 

She opened her wide eyes to see the animal glowing, gold, and red.  Shifting, morphing, right before her eyes. She cried out as a searing burst of heat surged throughout the room, shocking her for a moment.

When it faded, she blinked with stars burning her eyesight, and finally a figure formed in her view.

Owen.  He was stark naked and collapsed on top of her, dripping with perspiration. He groaned in pain and used one burly arm to prop himself up as he surveyed the broken pieces of tile and wood on the ground.  And then he surveyed Kiara underneath him, panting.  His eyes traveled down to her ripped blouse and bared chest.

She stared at him with a trembling mouth. When he lifted his awed gaze, their eyes met, and the room surged with heat again. Her hands shook as she reached out and placed her hands on his chest.

“Owen.”

It was all she needed to say.  She gasped as his warm hands grabbed her, cupped both sides of her face and tugged her lips onto his own. The kiss seared. His tongue ran over her bottom lip, and she moaned, allowing him entrance. He pulled her towards them, tumbling them across the strewn remains of the door. Her breathing broke into desperate pants as his fingers roved up and down her curves.

She mewled in pleasure as he ripped her shirt completely off and his tongue found her one of her nipples, as his hand went to caress the other one of her ample breasts. Her back arched as his tongue ran up and down her stomach, diving into the lines where her pelvis dipped.

Her womanhood ached for him. She felt her panties soaked through. Her skin was melting into the floor.

“Please,” she breathed. “I can’t take anymore.”

He didn’t have to be asked twice. She helped him rip off her pencil skirt and watched in awe as his muscled form presented himself at her entrance. He thrust into her, and she gasped in pleasure. The walls shook with their moans for hours; their desperate panting lost in time as they delved into sensual pleasure.

Every reluctance she’d had vanished as he made love to hear, caressing her body as if it was a rare gem. She felt fire in her core as her touches caused him to cry out in agonizing pleasure. Their mouths kissed each and every inch of one another.

She’d never known pleasure like this. He roared as they peaked together over and over.