Time Out (20 page)

When she’d stopped shuddering, he pushed up on his forearms. “I like that expression you’re wearing.”

“The one that says I no longer have a thought in my brain?”

“You have a thought. You want me inside you.”

“More than my next breath.” She hesitated, then admitted the rest of that truth. “There’s a condom in my purse.”

His smile was slow and sure and sexy as hell. “Brownies
and
a condom.”

It took him less than ten seconds to locate it. And then he positioned himself above her and filled her in one smooth stroke, making her gasp and clutch at him. Her eyes closed involuntarily at the sensation of him pressing deep, so deep that she cried out from the sheer perfection of it, and then again when he stroked his thumb over her. “I’m—I need—”

“I know. I’ve got you.” And he did. He brought her to another shattering climax, staying with her through it, then when she could open her eyes, she found his, black and scorching on hers. Still hard within her, he leaned over her, thrusting deep, sending her spiraling again, and this time he followed her.

RAINEY LAY THERE staring at the ceiling, sucking air, trying to get her breath back. Mark appeared to be in the same state. After a minute, he rolled to his side and pulled her in close, fitting her against him so that she could feel the after-shock when it ran through his body. It caused the same tremor within her, so strong it was almost another orgasm—from nothing more than knowing she’d given him pleasure.

With a low, very male sound of satisfaction, he ran his fingers over her heated skin. Thriving on the touch, she had to fight the urge to crawl under the covers with him to fall asleep in his arms.

Definitely, she needed to go.

Sitting up, she slid off the bed and began to search for her clothing, not missing the irony—she’d told him to stop interfering with her life, and yet she’d been the one to bring them to this point. The naked point. Which was about as deep into the interference of one’s life as it got. At his soft chuckle, she looked up.

Mark was still sprawled across the bed, arms up behind his head, feet crossed, casual as could be, seeped in the supreme confidence of someone who didn’t have to worry about whether or not he looked good naked.

Because he did.

So good.

So.

Damn.

Good.

“Why are you laughing?” she asked, wearing only her bra and one sock. “And where are my panties?”

He sat up, the muscles of his abs crunching and making her mouth go dry. In one fluid motion, he was off the bed and handing her the panties.

She reached for them, but with a wicked smile, he held them high above her head.

“Give me,” she said.

“Don’t you mean
please
give me?”

“You want me to beg?”

That smile spread slightly. “Nah. I just heard you beg plenty.”

“I did not beg.”

But she had. She so had.

Still grinning, still naked, he pulled her against him and pressed his mouth to her shoulder.

“My panties, Mark.”

Eyes warm, he handed them to her, and then suddenly it was like her brain disconnected from her mouth because she heard herself say, “Do I really have all the power?”

“After what we just did, you can doubt that?”

“I want the power to do something with this thing between you and me. Something more than just sex.”

He went still, and her heart stopped. “Or not,” she said. Feeling
very
exposed, she backed away. She shoved her legs into her panties and pulled them up. Then her jeans.

“Rainey—”

“No, you know what? That was leftover pheromones talking. Ignore it. Ignore me.” Oh, God. “I gotta go.”

He let out a long breath, then reached for her. “I thought you had me figured for a bad bet.”

“You are. A really bad bet, at least for me, because you operate day-to-day.”

And she operated long term. They both knew that. “I’m not a keeper, Rainey.”

There was something in his voice, something terrifyingly regretful and terrifyingly firm.

Did he not realize that to her, he was the ultimate keeper? Sharply intelligent, funny as hell, hardworking, caring… But she wouldn’t argue this, because as he’d pointed out, she’d already done her begging tonight. She went back to dressing, getting out of here her only plan. He’d told her that she had the power, but that was all wrong.
He
had the power, the power to stomp on her heart until it stopped functioning.

She turned to look for her shoes and bumped into his chest, which was a little like walking into a brick wall. “Excuse me,” she said.

“I want to make sure you understand.”

“I do.”

“I don’t think so,” he said. “This isn’t just sex for me, Rainey.” He took her arms in his big hands to keep her from escaping and her belly quivered.

Stupid belly.

“I just don’t have anything to offer more than what we have right now,” he said quietly.

“Which is what, that day-to-day thing?”

“Yeah.”

Okay, she got that. Loud and clear. Sex was great. More than sex…not so much.

“Where does that leave us?” he asked, his eyes serious.

“In the same place we’ve always been,” she managed to say.

“So then… why exactly are we dressing?” His eyes were dark and focused on her breasts. “Because from here,” he said softly, “going back to bed looks like a great idea.”

“Because…” Hell. This was getting complicated. This had been all her doing, she should be fine. She wanted to be fine. But her feelings for him had deepened, and she was afraid. He was going to hurt her without even trying. “Excuse me a minute?” Vanishing into the bathroom, she locked herself in and whipped out her cell phone. “Lena,” she whispered when her best friend picked up. “I need your help.”

“What’s the matter?”

Rainey sank to the closed toilet lid and dropped her head to her knees. “I’m with Mark.”

“Nice.”

“No, I mean I’m with him with him.”

“Like I said, nice.”

“Listen!” Rainey lowered her voice with effort. “He fooled me!”

“Huh?”

“You said I should go for a guy who
isn’t
a fixer-upper, right? And I figured I was safe with Mark because he
is
a fixer-upper, the ultimate fixer-upper, actually. But I was wrong. He’s not a fixer-upper at all. I like him just how he is. And now I’m screwed.”

Lena laughed.

“I don’t mean that in a good way! Okay, well it was good, but you know what I mean!”

“Ah, honey. You’re afraid.”

Yeah. She was. So deeply afraid she’d fallen in love—madly, irrevocably in love.

“Look, I realize I’m speaking Greek when I tell you this,” Lena said. “But just enjoy the ride on this one.” She paused. “Pun intended.”

“But the plan was for this to be light!”

“Honey, you don’t always have to have a plan.”

Rainey sighed and hung up. God, what to do? Could she really just go with the flow and let this thing play out?

Yes,
said her body.

No,
said her brain. Hell, no. Because when he left, and he was going to, she’d be devastated. With a sound of frustration, she shoved her phone into her pocket, drew a deep breath, and stood up. Gathering her courage, she opened the door.

Standing there in the doorway, hands up over his head and latched onto the jamb, was six feet plus of pure testosterone wrapped in tough, rugged sinew.

They stared at each other for a long beat.

“She tell you to dump me?” he asked quietly.

“She told me to enjoy the ride.”

His smile was slow and sure and sexy. Damn. She pointed at him. “None of that or my clothes will fall off again. Move. I need space to think.”

He moved. He moved into her, sliding his arms around her and melting her damn knees.

11

A PART OF Mark had been braced for Rainey to grab her purse and walk out of his motel room.

And out of his life.

He’d fully expected it. Hell, he deserved it. But she let him pull her in, even pressed her face to his throat and inhaled deeply, and relief flooded him. Knee-knocking, gut-squeezing relief. “Rainey—”

“I don’t want to talk about it. You’re not sticking around, we’ve never made each other any promises. There was no plan, so there’s no reason for me to try to back you into one now.” Her cell phone vibrated. “It’s Lena,” she muttered. “Probably apologizing for being a bad wingman.” She opened her phone. “It’s too late to help me now, I—” She broke off and came to immediate attention, straightening up. “Sharee?”

Mark watched the furrow across Rainey’s brow. Her hair was wild, probably thanks to his fingers. Her make-up had smeared beneath her eyes a little and she had a whisker burn down her throat. Lifting his hand, he ran a thumb over the mark.

“Sharee?” Rainey said. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Mark shifted in closer and put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, her eyes dark with concern, and surprised him even further when she leaned into him as she listened. “I’m coming right now,” she said. “Stay in a lit area—Hello?
Sharee?
” She stared at her phone. “Dammit, her battery died. I’ve got to go.”

Mark was already grabbing a shirt and keys. “I’ll drive.”

RAINEY’S NERVES WERE in her throat as she picked up her purse. She’d never heard Sharee upset before. Pissed-off, yes. Pure bravado, often. Upset and scared, no. “She’s at the high school,” Rainey told Mark. “She got dropped there after shopping with friends. Her mom was supposed to get her but isn’t there yet and Sharee said those boys are there, the ones I kicked out of the rec center last week. They’re harassing her because she’s the one who told me who they were.”

Mark opened the door for her, then followed her out. “Oh, you don’t have to—”

“I’m driving,” he repeated in that quiet but firm voice she’d heard him use in interviews, on the teens, and on his players. It was a voice that brooked no argument while at the same time instilled confidence and a belief that everything was going to be okay.

She wanted to believe it. They moved through the lobby. The guys were still there and waved at them.

“The walk of shame,” Rainey murmured.

Mark’s hand slid warmly to the back of her neck. “They won’t say anything.”

“Are you kidding? Look at me.”

He pulled her around to look at her, and his eyes softened. “You look like you just—”

“Rolled around in bed? Had an orgasm?”

An affectionate smile crossed his face. “Or three.”

She smacked him lightly in the abs—which didn’t give—and he grabbed her hand, holding her at his side as they continued to walk.

True to Mark’s word, Casey and James didn’t say a thing, but that was because Mark was giving them a long look over her head, which she managed to just catch. She waited until they were outside heading to his truck. “What did you threaten them with?”

He slid her a glance. “You were standing right there. I didn’t say anything.”

“Uh-huh.”

He smiled. “Push-ups. Laps. Sitting their ass on the bench. Pick one.”

“They’re grown-ups. You’d do that?”

“I don’t care how old they are, their asses are mine.”

She shook her head and laughed. “You sound like a dictator.”