Three Little Words (8 page)

            Completing the last circuit of the drill, I skidded to a quick, neat stop beside the water cooler.

            Grabbing my bottle, I filled it and then chugged greedily, the icy liquid spilling down my cheeks as I drank.

            When the bottle was empty I slammed it back on the table and wiped my mouth off with the back of my hand. It was then that I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned to find the hottie watching me intently.

            He was better looking than any guy had the right to be.

            Arching an eyebrow at his blatant stare, I bent to refill my water bottle. When I straightened back up, the blond god of sexiness was ambling over to me casually, a rakish smile curving his lips.

            Despite my own better sense, despite the confusing sensations that Mal had churned up in me only a couple of hours ago, I felt interest stir, hot and tangled in the pit of my belly.

            “You’re ace on those things.” He nodded to my feet, on which my skates were still tightly laced, edging into my personal space like he had every right to. “You look good.”

            Usually if someone moved closer to me than I liked I would give them a ferocious glare while retreating post haste.

            This guy, however... he wasn’t setting my nerves to screaming. And he smelled good. Like, really fucking sexy good. And he was eyeing me with undisguised interest.

           
You’ve got to get back out there sometime, Adele.
 And no matter that Mal was still able to peak my interest, there was too much history there. Heartbreaking history.

            Swallowing deeply, I turned and offered a cautious smile. The satisfaction that crossed his face was panty-melting in its intensity.

            “We don’t get many spectators at practice.” I tried to throw some flirtation into my tone, and the words felt heavy with rust. “Are you with someone?”

            He shook his head, running his tongue over his lips.

            “I like derby girls.” The stranger shrugged, unabashed, as heat shot straight to that space between my legs. “Actually I was walking by and saw the sign. Never heard of derby before and I was curious.

            Apparently I don’t get out enough... cause
now
I know that I like really derby girls.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me lasciviously. Damn it, he had an accent. British or Australian, I never could tell, but combined with the thick, messy gold hair that looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, the densely lashed hazel eyes, the scruffy chin, the devil may care expression and look that said he got whatever he wanted, when he wanted it...

            Something churned in my gut, a kind of need that I hadn’t experienced for a long time. The kind that had once led me to approach hot guys at parties and the bar for no reason other than hot sex.

            “I’m Dorian.” He held out a hand for me to shake. I stared at it for a beat before offering my own, which he lifted to his lips for a hot, moist kiss.

            “Smooth, aren’t you?” The rustiness was receding, and I felt a hint of my old tendency to flirt pushing through the layers with which I’d surrounded myself. “I’m Adele.”

            “I try.” He grinned and kept hold of my hand, like he had every right to. The prolonged contact should have made me freak out, and instead I felt pleasant little frissons of heat radiating outward from the touch.

            I’d spent two years avoiding the males of the species entirely, and now here in one afternoon were two who not only didn’t completely freak me out, but who made my body respond.

            Maybe it was a sign. It was time for me to try to move on with my life.

            “Nice tats,” Dorian massaged the tender spot between my thumb and forefinger. I shivered, partly from the touch, and partly because my instinct was to grab my sweatshirt and hide the ink, the symbol of who I used to be.

           
Fuck it
. Let him look. I wanted to bring that old me back.

            “Thanks.” Not sure what, exactly, had come over me, I leaned forward and lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I have more.”

           
Oh my God
. Where were those words coming from? Surely then weren’t mine.

            My heart thudded in my chest when Dorian whistled, long and low. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, sweetheart.”

            I couldn’t help it—I grinned. Something about this guy’s ridiculously overt style of flirtation was irresistible, though I sensed a core of steel underneath. Maybe it was the fact that I couldn’t have found someone more different from Mal if I tried.

            Or maybe I was just ready to move past that awful night, to take control of my life again. This guy was a stranger, but he made me feel relaxed, like the girl I’d once been.

            “What are you doing after practice?” The teasing was gone as Dorian looked down into my eyes, and I shivered at the intensity I read there.

            The last guy I’d been this attracted to had been... well... Mal. And though I’d admired him from afar for a bit before finally deciding to approach him, the attraction had been a slow burn compared to what I felt right now.

            Instant heat, the kind that might burn me but would be intense and amazing before it did.

            Pulling my hand free, I considered, still not able to make a snap decision like I once would have done. On a normal day I would never have considered encouraging attention from any guy, not even one as hot and overtly sexual as this one. But seeing Mal had stirred me up, and I was feeling all kinds of reckless.

            All kinds of needy.

            “You tell me.” I smiled slowly before skating backwards, away from Dorian, giving him time to peruse my body with his eyes, which he did. Blatantly. A tremor of nerves made my knees shake when I realized what I’d just done, but I set my resolve and stayed the course.

            I’d fought my way through some serious shit, and had triumphed. But I was an empty shell of what I’d once been.

            Was it so bad to welcome a little bit of recklessness back into my life? Just a bit? I’d be careful of course, but the events of the day had teased out a need to do something a bit wild, something that would remind me that I was still alive.

            Surely if anyone deserved just a moment of happiness, it was me.

            DORIAN

            The little sheila was bloody fascinating.

            She was so reserved as she skated, almost prim compared to her teammates, who were hollering obscenities and swapping dirty jokes. Her focus was entirely on the drills, and my admittedly dirty mind immediately wondered what it would be like to have that kind of attention focused on me.

            Not to mention that her tight ass looked bloody fantastic in those tiny spandex shirts.

            When I’d approached her at the water cooler, she’d looked like a cornered animal for a moment. It had set all of my protective instincts firing, made me want to hold her in my arms and show her that she would be okay because her problems were now mine. Then in the blink of an eye the caution had disappeared, and she’d been on fire.

            The small, cautiously flirtatious smile she cast me now as she shrugged into her sweatshirt and slung her skates over her shoulder had my cock going rock hard, pressing against the worn denim of my skinny jeans, demanding to be set free.

            It quickened my pulse. Here, finally, was a woman who intrigued me in the way I’d always imagined that a woman would someday. Sensing that she was special, I was inclined to actually have a chat with the woman, maybe even some food and a drink before I moved in for the big event.

            Something about her combination of fragility and steel interested me like I hadn’t been in a very long time.

            Which isn’t to say that I didn’t appreciate the view of her tight ass in those little shorts on the way out of the gym. Hey, I could have feelings
and
still be horny as hell.

            “Where to?” I rocked back on my heels, captivated as she sucked in a great lungful of cold twilight air. Her lips were bare of any of that paint that women use, and I could just imagine how that pale pink would look wrapped around my cock.

           
Down, boy.
 I was the lead singer of a pretty popular band, formerly of Australia, currently local, and because I looked okay when I was up on stage, I’d never had any problem getting sex, if I wanted it. But I was also used to control when it came to doing the nasty—complete control—and I had yet to meet a woman who was okay with that for more than one or two times.

            It was inexplicably important to me that this woman stick around. So I reigned in my dominant side, and consciously decided to let her call the shots.

            For now. And if she wanted to ride my cock, I probably wasn’t going to turn her down. She was fucking hot.

            She looked up at me with assessing eyes. Again I got the sense that she was fragile somehow, damaged, but the impression was gone so quickly that I could have been imagining it.

            “Do you have coffee at your place?” Her tone was flirty, but I didn’t think I was imagining the undertone that she gave the word
coffee
.

            I nodded vigorously, eagerness taking over the iron tight control that usually controlled my interactions with the opposite sex. I wasn’t actually sure that I did have coffee, but I’d figure it out.

            Whatever she wanted.

            “I have vodka, too, if that’s what floats your boat.”

            She shook her head, and those shutters fell over her eyes again, just for a moment. “I don’t drink.”

            “Good on you.” I was surprised. I didn’t know many people in their early twenties who didn’t.

            Even I, who liked to stay in control, enjoyed a pint or two. “You’re not Amish, are you?”

            The words were designed to make her laugh, and satisfaction spread through me when I succeeded.

            “No, not Amish,” she grinned up at me as we walked, a real smile that had nothing to do with flirtation, and I was momentarily floored.

            Had I thought that she was merely cute? Just a garden variety hottie?

            She was fucking
gorgeous
.

            “I just don’t... ah... I don’t like the feeling of losing control.” Surprise painted her features, like she couldn’t quite believe that she’d said that.

            I was impressed that she’d already figured that out. I was twenty-six, and I was putting her at a few years younger than me. Not much more than a kid, though ten bucks said that my band mate Levi would call her an
old soul
if they ever met.

            It was also like a red flag waving in front of me, ensuring that she had my attention. I wanted to make her lose control—with me, and only me.

            Huh. I’d never imagined a chick in my life after one night had passed, no matter how much I’d secretly longed for one. But I could easily picture Adele in the audience at one of my shows, smiling up at me as I sang just for her.

           
What the fuck?

            Abruptly she stopped, feet planting right in the middle of the sidewalk. It distracted me from my train of thought, because she grabbed my arm and looked up at me, her eyes narrowed with intent.

            “This is just a one night thing, right?” Her forwardness caught me off-guard.

            The females who paraded in and out of my life would never have let those words cross their lips.

            They were always hinting, trying to find ways to make their time with me longer. I took the sex and ignored the rest without my conscious acting up too much, because I hadn’t yet found one who interested me in something longer. And I knew that these girls weren’t really interested in me, but rather in the lead singer of Three Little Words, my band.

            If all they cared about was how I looked on their arms when they paraded me around to their friends, then I figured it was just fine to only care about the pleasure that could be found in that slippery space between their legs.

            This girl was different.

            “Whatever you want, gorgeous.” I curved my lips into the smile that I used on stage, the one that seemed to make girls cream their panties, but inside I was already trying to figure out how I could keep her interested longer.

            One night was a start. But I in no way thought that it would be enough. This woman was different.

            I wanted to peel away the layers and discover what secrets lay beneath. And then I wanted to keep her.

            Adele visibly relaxed at my reassurance, and I had to control the twitch of my lips. We were only a block away from my apartment building—from our
coffee
date—but instead of resuming her pace she held out her hand.

            “Give me your phone.” She raised an eyebrow when I stared at her. Maybe what laid beneath her exterior was nothing but crazy.

            I wanted her too much to care, and pulled my iPhone from the back pocket of my jeans.

            I thought that maybe she wanted to program her number into it or something, but instead she tucked it unto the pocket of her hoodie, sliding the zipper closed.

            “You have any other cameras? Recording devices? Microscopic laptops?” Holy shit, she was serious.

            “No.” I shook my head—why on earth was she worried about cameras? Her brow furrowed—she was clearly still concerned.

            It made me want to wrap my arms around her, to protect her from however the world had hurt her.

            And strange or not, she was still the most interesting thing that had ever happened to me.

            I grinned at her and waggled my eyebrows at her suggestively.

            “You can conduct a full and thorough strip search before anything untoward happens. I promise.”