Dirty Score, A Rough Riders Hockey Novel (15 page)

Rafe’s heart skipped, opened, and ached. He laid his head back against the seat and cupped her face. “Mia.”

Then her hand slipped beneath his boxers and stroked down his shaft.

Pleasure rolled through his lower body. Excitement sparked all along his spine. Rafe gritted his teeth around “
God,
Mia.”

And while she continued to stroke him, she used her other hand to cover his, now clutching her jaw, and pulled it under her dress and between her legs.

She was naked. No panties. Just perfectly soft, perfectly sweet, perfectly Mia.

“And I really,” she said softly, leaning in to tease his lips with a kiss, “want to enjoy you, Rafe.”

The sensual tone of her voice tightened his gut. She covered his mouth with hers, tugging his lips between her own one at a time, sinking her teeth in just to the edge of pain, then licking and sucking and stroking her tongue into his mouth. Twirling it with his until her pussy wet Rafe’s fingers. The she pulled back and looked into his eyes as she lowered onto his cock.

Slow, slow, slowly, until Rafe was grinding his teeth. Until her knees stretched wide. Until she took all of him.

Her eyes slid closed, her brow tightened, her lips parted, and she moaned, “So… good.”

Rafe’s control slipped. Her body was so…fucking…perfectly wrapped around him, sweat broke out on his forehead. “Mia.” Her name came out of him like a guttural growl. “Mia, Mia, Mia…”

He pushed her skirt out of the way, dug his fingers into her hips, and rocked her on his cock.

“Oh my God,” she moaned.

He loved knowing what she liked. Loved knowing exactly how to please her. He lifted her, just as slowly, watching his cock slide from her pussy, engorged and glistening. Bare. Skin on skin. The pleasure of it—both physically and emotionally—was blistering hot.

Before he was ready, she lowered her hips and plunged him deep. Pleasure ripped through his pelvis and teased his spine. Stars lit off behind his eyes.

Mia braced her hands on his shoulders, and with her eyes half-closed, her teeth scraping over her bottom lip, she held his gaze as she set a rhythm. A hypnotic, mind-bending rhythm.

“Mmmm,” she moaned, her voice tight. “Missed this.”

Then she kissed him, her mouth just as hot and hungry as her pussy. Her hips quickened, and she lifted her lips to whisper, “God…I love the way you feel…inside me.”

The statement thrilled him. Lust surged. Emotions tangled. “You’re so sexy.” He pulled her mouth back to his tasting her, connecting with her, loving her. “Mia, baby, Mia…”

He loved saying her name. It reminded him this was reality, not a dream. Not a fantasy. He was loving Mia—
his Mia
—the way he’d always dreamed of loving her. She was a fantasy come true. Knowing she was slipping away like sand through his fingers made his need even more urgent. More intense. And when she climaxed, it was way too soon for Rafe.

He pulled her mouth against his shoulder to muffle her cries, but the triumph, the satisfaction, the love that swelled inside him made him even more ravenous. He rested a moment while Mia shivered in his arms. She turned her head, and her hot breaths bathed his neck. He ran a hand through her hair and realized her clip had fallen out. The silky strands between his fingers brought back memories of their first night. Of the way he’d skimmed his fingers through her hair while she slept. Tears burned his eyes out of nowhere.

“We can make this work.” His rasp came as barely more than a whisper. He hadn’t even fully thought the words before they touched his own ears. And he immediately knew they were a wish, not a fact. “I want to make this work, Mia.”

“Shhh.” She took his face in both hands and brought her lips to his again. “Don’t. Just enjoy what we have while we have it.” And when she kissed him again, Rafe released the restraint on his passion. He gripped the back of her neck and held her head to his own, lifting his hips to drive into her.

Mia turned her head, pressed her mouth to his hair, and murmured a frantic stream of “Rafe, oh God Rafe. Yes, yes, yes…”

Until she broke again. Until her pussy squeezed his cock and spilled her juice and Rafe let go. His orgasm surged through him like liquid fire, searing pleasure through his body from his pelvis out. He tipped his head and pressed his mouth to Mia’s neck to smother his groan.

But when the pleasure receded to a low, pleasant burn, his throat thickened with emotion. As if the orgasm had cleared his brain, he could see all too clearly that he was going to lose her. And not just to California. He was going to lose her entirely. She was going to move on with her life, grow and change and experience things, and Rafe would be too far away and too busy with his own demanding career to share them with her. Then she’d find someone else, someone closer who appreciated her like he did.

God, he felt like she was already gone, and he was still inside her.

Mia melted against him, boneless, her cheek on his shoulder. Rafe went lax into the seat beneath him, closed his eyes, and tried like hell to absorb the absolute perfection of the moment. He would give up everything in his bank accounts right now to be able to hold on to this, hold on to Mia, and still keep his best friend and Joe.

“So,” Mia said, voice languid and soft, “when I act like a zombie in this meeting, I can blame it on you, right?”

He smiled. “Uh, no. Who climbed on top of who?”

She exhaled. “Ah, right.” Mia pushed back, gave him a tired, lazy smile, and stroked his face. Her gaze lowered to his mouth and went distant, her expression a little melancholy. “And here I always thought those divas were clamoring to hang on your arm for your looks and your heart. Little did I know…” She laughed softly and shook her head, more
stupid m
e than humor. She sighed and brightened her smile. “I guess I’d better get myself back together.”

Rafe cupped her face in both hands and pulled her in for another kiss. He wanted to tell her she was wrong, but she wasn’t. Women did come to him for a good time, which included sex. All kinds of sex. All but the real kind. The kind that involved emotion. The kind he had with Mia.

He leaned back with the wild urge to tell her that she was different. That she’d always been different. That he wanted so much more than they had. Having Mia within reach suddenly made picking up a different woman every other night a chore. He was tired of wondering where Mia was, what she was doing, and who she was doing it with. Tired of worrying about her and wondering whether she was happy or hurting. Damn sick and tired of missing her. But most of all, he was tired of hiding his feelings from everyone—including himself. It was exhausting.

He reached for the strap of her dress that had fallen off her shoulder and put it back into place, searching for the words to open that subject, while knowing there was no point.

She lifted herself off him just as the car slowed. Rafe glanced out the window for the first time, where a row of upscale shops and restaurants lined the street. Her gaze strayed the same direction as she grabbed some napkins from the bar and tossed him a few.

“Someone lined up a very haute couture sort of evening,” she said with a sassy little smile. But Rafe wasn’t feeling sassy or happy. “And with Tate and Joe on the other side of the table, I’d better put myself back into that pretty little box they expect.”

As they cleaned up, disappointment knotted in the pit of Rafe’s stomach. Once he had himself put back together, he said, “Mia…”

She pulled skimpy red lace panties from her purse and slipped them over her heels and under her skirt. That did make him smile. It also made him forget what he was going to say. Probably something they’d already talked about. Probably something their situation rendered moot.

She grinned in return and lifted her hands to her hair, shaking her the dark strands. Rafe unknotted his tie, rolled it around his hand, then slid it into his pocket while Mia collect her shiny clip again and expertly refasten her hair into a pretty bun. After a quick look in a small mirror and a dab of lip gloss, she leaned in to straighten Rafe’s collar and tame his hair.

The driver rounded the back of the car and stood at the rear door.

Rafe cupped her face. “Hey, don’t be nervous. Silver’s a really nice guy.”

Mia grinned with a flash of white teeth and a sparkle in her eyes. “I’m not nervous.” She patted his chest pocket, his side pockets, then opened her purse and dug around. “I’ve been to hundreds of these meetings over the last few years.” She clipped her purse closed and slid a pen into his front breast pocket. “I can’t believe you and Tate still leave the house without a pen when you know at least a dozen people will want autographs.” With one more look over him, she exhaled and smiled. “Okay, you’re set.”

Then she pushed the door open, and the driver took her hand, helping her to the curb.

Rafe hesitated a moment, trying to figure out the uncomfortable buzz in his gut. He felt vaguely…serviced.

Screwed. Straightened. Handed a pen for signatures.

Just as he grabbed the doorframe to step out, someone bent to look inside. Rafe leaned back and focused on the face and found Tate. Grinning.

“What the hell are you doing in here, dude?”

Rafe lifted a brow at him. “Dude?”

“We’re in California.”

Rafe laughed, planted a hand on top of Tate’s head, and pushed. “Get out.”

Damn, he wished he didn’t love this idiot so much. Or wished he loved Tate’s sister less.

When Rafe stood, he found Mia near the door to the restaurant, talking with Joe. She still took his breath away. And he wasn’t the only guy who noticed how gorgeous she looked. A group of three businessmen waiting for a cab were all staring at her. Mia either didn’t know or didn’t care. She had her arm linked with Joe’s, her smiling face turned up to his as he talked about something.

Rafe pulled his wallet from his pocket and drew out cash for the driver’s tip. He tuned in to Mia’s sweet laugh and Joe telling her some funny story about his Metro ride.

“I just talked to Tierney,” Tate said as Rafe handed the money to the driver and thanked him.

“Yeah?” he asked absently, stuffing his wallet away. He took a step toward Mia and Joe, but Tate put a hand on Rafe’s arm.

“The Hardys are in town for the playoffs.”

Rafe quickly associated the name with the liquor company, a large Rough Riders sponsor. “And?”

“And they’re hosting a concierge floor at the Marquis.” Tate’s voice rang with excitement. The Marquis was Anaheim’s version of the Four Seasons. “A
floor
, dude, not a suite.”

“Cool. Have fun. I’m not bailing on Mia after setting up this meeting.”

Tate stopped Rafe’s forward momentum again, and Mia glanced toward them.

“It’s not optional. Everyone is somewhere tonight.” Tate rattled off a dozen other names of team members doing their part to schmooze sponsors. “We just happened to luck out and scored the best gig. Hendrix and Tierney are already there, and the sponsors are expecting you and me to show up sometime tonight. Tierney’s been texting me pictures. The chicks are smokin’ hot.”

Rafe raised his brows at Tate. His friend had—as far as Rafe knew—been celibate since his shitty wife had bailed. “You talk as if you’re actually going to do something with one of them.”

Tate smacked Rafe in the chest. “Shut the hell up. We’re going. And maybe I will.”

“Fine.” He took another couple of steps. “When this meeting is over, I’ll catch up—”

“No, man.” Tate stopped him again. “The party’s been going for an hour. You wait until the meeting with Silver’s over and everyone who matters is going to be so hammered, they aren’t going to even remember you were there.”

“Then it’s not worth going at all, is it?”

“I told you, this isn’t optional—”

“It’s okay.” Mia’s voice pulled Rafe’s attention. She wore a cardboard smile and fluttered a hand toward them. “Go do your thing. Have fun. I’ll make your excuses.”

His stomach dropped to his feet. “Mia—”

“Silver knows all about sponsors,” she said. “He’ll understand, but you should go before he comes. Otherwise, he’ll trap you in conversation and all the hottest girls will be snapped up. I’m going to turn in early, so kick ass tomorrow, guys.”

That phrase hammered Rafe in the gut. The same phrase she’d left on the dresser when she’d bailed on him in the hotel their first night.

“And Rafe?” This time her smile was authentic. She tipped her head in that sweet way that made his stomach ache, and gestured toward the restaurant. “Thanks for this.”

Then she disappeared inside with Joe.

And all Rafe could do was clench his teeth, stuff his fisted hands into the pockets of his blazer, and rail silently.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

N
ow that the
meeting with Silver was behind her, Mia could focus on her future.

She watched the taxi ease toward her at the hotel’s entrance, trying to keep her mind off Rafe by worrying about her attire. She smoothed the fabric of her long, wrap-around skirt, muttering, “God I hoped I’m not underdressed.”

Aaron had said California casual. But for someone who’d never even been to the state, California casual meant nothing. Now, standing at the curb, she was worried the halter top with lace from the A-line to her navel was too revealing. And the clingy fabric of her skirt with sandals might be pushing it, even for a California beachside bar. She was going to be meeting her future coworkers, and first impressions were important.

But the cab was here, so she exhaled and tried to release the stress lying heavily in the pit of her stomach. Her mind veered back to Rafe. She was disappointed that he wasn’t coming, but after watching him leave the night before with Tate for an impromptu-but-mandatory night surrounded by quality booze and puck bunnies, she knew it was best. She gave the “love him while you can” method a go. But she hadn’t slept when she’d returned to the hotel. And she knew Rafe and Tate hadn’t returned until the early morning hours because she’d talked to Joe at two a.m. when he’d texted with
Have you heard from the boys?

She was doing the right thing, easing Rafe back where he belonged—out of her life and into his own. He’d played another great game, the perfect kick-start to the final playoffs. He should be out celebrating with his team, not acting like her security blanket.

But as the taxi slid into place at the curb, Mia had to accept that the nerves strung tight across her shoulders wouldn’t be loosening up until she suffered through introductions at the party on her own and got a few drinks in her. Or maybe not until she’d moved into Danielle’s apartment. Or until she’d found her local grocery store, gym, gas station, and Starbucks.

A young valet leaned in and smiled as he opened the door. “Here you go, miss. Do you need directions or recommendations tonight?”

Yes, she needed step-by-step directions on how to go back in time and unsleep with a man. She also needed recommendations on how to find and live on a remote island where no one had ever heard of the game of hockey.

“No,” she said, returning his smile, “thank you.”

She gave the driver the address of the bar in Long Beach where the crew was meeting, then settled back in the seat.

Before the valet had even closed the door, she was struck by how very different this situation was from the night before. Memories of her fairy-tale-like ride just twenty-four hours ago made a melancholy smile turn her lips.

“Mia!” Rafe’s voice pulled her attention back just before the door closed on a
click
.

She sat there a long second, unsure whether to respond or ignore him.

Rafe made the decision for her when he opened the door, a look of complete confusion on his face. “What are you doing? I thought we were going together.”

He was wearing what he usually wore into the stadium on game day—a charcoal-gray suit and a crisp white button-down, minus the tie. His freshly showered scent drifted in and teased Mia’s nose. And, damn, she hated seeing him so soon after a game. His hair was still wet, his face still flushed, his eyes still sparkling from all that adrenaline. Heat stirred between her legs.

Dammit.

“You must not have gotten my message.” She went for cool but not bitchy. “I said—”

“Great game? Celebrate with the guys, I’m going to do the party on my own? Screw that.” He slid in beside her and closed the door. The driver peered over his shoulder, his dark eyes darting between them. “Go wherever she told you to go.”

The driver cut a look at Mia. She sighed, nodded, and avoided talking to Rafe until they were on the road and the angry aura around him had simmered down a notch.

“Thought you’d be in a pretty good mood tonight,” she said. “You kicked ass in the game.” She looked at the rasp above his left eye. The one he’d gotten from a header into the boards. A header that had cut off Mia’s air for long seconds until he stood up again. “You should probably put ice on that.”

“I was going to grab some at your room,” he bit out, cutting her an angry look, “but you weren’t there.”

“If you had read your messages,” she said trying to hold her own temper, “you would have known I wouldn’t be there.”

“I didn’t check my messages because I was hustling to get ready so I wouldn’t make you late.”

“Don’t take out your pissy mood on me. Dekker’s the one who slammed you into the boards.”

“Dekker’s not the one who put me in this pissy mood.”

“Why are you yelling at me?”

“Because you just tried to ditch me, and you’ve ignored my texts all day when you’re the only thing I can think about.”

He hooked a hand around her neck, pulled her in, and covered her mouth with his. An angry murmur vibrated in her throat, and she pushed a hand against his chest. Rafe broke the kiss and curled his fingers into her hair, making her gasp. Then kissed her again. Taking advantage of her parted lips, he plunged his tongue into her mouth, stealing her breath.

Mia’s frustration melted in the heat, and she tightened her fingers in his shirt. Rafe hummed into her mouth, the sound hungry and pained as he took the kiss deeper. Then he tipped his head and cradled hers in the crook of his elbow. His other arm slipped around her waist and tightened.

His heart thundered beneath her palm. His tongue warmed her mouth. Mia wanted to drown in him. Wanted to beg him to make her world stop spinning out of control.

He broke the kiss and dropped his forehead against her shoulder while he gasped for air.

When he didn’t speak, Mia eased her hold on his neck. “I need to make a good first impression on these people. You know, pretend I’m stable. Someone with a normal life who will be dependable and predictable. Not someone who does rash, risky things that disrupt everyone around me. And as volatile as you and I have been lately, I thought it would be better for us to retreat back into our own lives. We have to do it soon anyway.”

“The reason we are so volatile is because we’re always worried about Tate finding out.” He lifted a hand to her face and cupped it. “This is the perfect opportunity for us to be together without anyone watching. Just be ourselves with each other without worries we’ll be seen or word will get back to Tate.”

That might or might not be true, she didn’t know. It all depended on how closely this group followed hockey. “You make it sound like we haven’t already known each other for twenty years.”

“What is wrong with you tonight? Why are you so angry?”

Mia’s patience snapped. “Because I’m leaving you in a couple of days. Because I have to learn how to live without you in my life all over again.” She hadn’t meant to yell, but her words reverberated in the cab, and the driver cast frightened looks in the rearview mirror. “I shouldn’t have come. I should have known I couldn’t keep things casual with you. Why couldn’t you have been an asshole after we slept together the first time? Why do you have to be so, so, so damn
you
?”

She looked out the side window, and the streetlights and taillights blurred in the tears filling her eyes. Which, of course made her angry. “Damn you,” she said with less force as she wiped at her eyes. “Now you’re going to make my mascara smear.”

Rafe swallowed her in a hug, pulling her into his body and pressing his face to her hair. “Stop,” he murmured, holding her tight. “Stop, Mia. I’m right here.”

But he wouldn’t be right there for long, and the realization turned her into a freaking faucet. And even though she tried to push Rafe away, he held tight, reassuring her with a patient, warm voice. “Shhh, I know this is hard. I know you’re scared. It’s going to be okay, baby. It’s going to be better than okay. They’re going to love you. You’re going to love them. Shhh…”

When she quieted, he loosened his hold but didn’t let go. Pulling back, he used one hand to wipe at her tears. “Let’s just be Mia and Rafe tonight. Put hockey and Tate and Joe in the closet. I want to meet the people you’re going to work with, hear about your job, watch you make new friends.” He combed his fingers into her hair and let them sift through. “I’m not gonna lie, I
don’t
want you across the country from me, Mia, but I know you can’t do what you want to do in DC. And I really do want you to be happy and successful.”

She sighed and broke eye contact, focusing on the buttons of his shirt.

“What do you say?” he asked, his rough fingers skimming across her cheek. “Just a night out? You and me, being you and me?”

The thought of having him by her side did settle her nerves a little. “Yeah,” she breathed. “Okay.”

He kissed her forehead and sat back against the seat, pulling her with him. “You look gorgeous.”

She huffed a laugh. “Thank you.”

“Tell me about your meeting with Silver. Joe told me a little bit. What did you think? How did you feel?”

That was a bit of a double-edged sword considering it brought up the memory of him bailing for a party with Tate. The fact that he couldn’t have done anything different without going against his coach’s orders and his owner’s expectations or raising suspicion about their relationship didn’t ease Mia’s hurt or disappointment.

“It’s moot,” she said. “He’s got a year left in his contract with the firm designing and manufacturing the team’s current retail jerseys. He was excited about mine, loved all the industry data I came with, said he wants to meet again closer to the time his contract expires, but a year is a long time. A lot can happen in a year. Who knows what the market will do, what he’ll want, where the team will be, where the industry will be.” She shook her head and shrugged. “It may be a good idea, but unless I’m ready to run with it in the moment, there’s no point pitching it. And I’m miles away from being able to run with it.”

“You wouldn’t be if you—” Rafe started.

“Don’t, Rafe. Don’t throw money at me.”

“I’m not throwing it. I’m offering it. I’ll invest, we can make it a loan, do it however you need to do it to make you comfortable with taking it. I just want to see you break that damn glass ceiling—”

“And I
want
to do this
myself
.” She pulled back to meet his eyes. “Why don’t any of you understand why it’s important to me to do it on my own? You and Tate and Joe have been there for me my whole life. You’ve all been constant safety nets. You said you wanted that meeting last night so I could have something of my own. This”—she pointed to the floor of the cab—“this is my own. This job. This career. Whatever I make out of it. This is mine. If I take money from any of you, no matter what you call it, I’m giving you a piece of my success, and I’ve done that all my life. You and Tate made your success on your talent and your hard work. I just want to do the same.”

Rafe exhaled and pressed his lips together.

“It may not happen fast enough for you,” she said, “but it will happen.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

For the rest of the drive, he kept her close, and they talked about the game. About strategy they planned to try next game. Revisited their plans for the following day.

When a natural lull slipped into their conversation, Mia looked out the window.

“Nothing happened last night,” Rafe said softly. “At the party, I mean.”

She nodded, and another lull fell.

“Did Tate see anyone he was interested in?” she asked.

“He talked to a lot of women. At least a freaking dozen hit on him. Another half dozen offered to blow him in the parking—” He stopped short, then swore.

A huff of laughter escaped Mia. “Which means two dozen hit on you and a dozen offered to—”

“It doesn’t matter how many women do or offer anything. Because just like Tate, I wasn’t interested in any of them.”

But Mia knew all about Rafe’s lifestyle. And she wasn’t naïve enough to think it would turn on a dime because of her. Not when she lived across the country. But the thought of him with another woman would completely snap the last fiber of sanity holding Mia together, so she pushed it out of her mind.

They turned off the freeway to signs signaling Long Beach. Then the taxi slowed in front of a nondescript six-foot-high ivy hedge running over a hundred feet along the road bordering the ocean. Only one door led through the vine wall, and it was closed. No sign marked the property. The area was definitely commercial, with other shops and restaurants lining both sides of Highway One, but…

The taxi driver stopped and tapped the meter. “Cash or credit?”

Rafe pulled his wallet from his pocket. “Credit.”

“Are you sure we’re at the right place?” she asked the driver.

“Sullivan’s,” he said, casually tossing a gesture toward the unmarked property. “Right there.”

While Rafe paid, Mia stepped out and looked around. The fog was still out over the ocean and a soft, heavenly salty breeze whispered over her skin. Rafe came around the car to her side, and the taxi started down the quiet road. The two of them stood there in the night bathed by the sound of ocean waves in the distance and laughter drifting from behind the ivy privacy barrier.

Mia took a deep breath and let it out, but nerves still buzzed in her belly. Then Rafe’s hand encircled hers, warm and gentle. She looked up at him and found him smiling.

“Welcome to your future, beautiful. Seems pretty damn nice so far.”

Mia filled with so much love, the words almost spilled out. Giddiness replaced her unease. Gripping his lapels, she pushed to her toes, leaned into him, and kissed him. “That’s for chasing me down and being here with me.”

His fingers skimmed her face, his eyes warm and serious. “I could say the same.”

They kissed, and Mia felt that familiar shift inside her again. One that was happening far too often. She lowered and stepped toward the mysterious door. The handle turned easily enough in Rafe’s hand, and he stepped aside, letting Mia go ahead.

Passing through the door felt a little like stepping into another world. White lights were strung between trees and poles. Lanterns lit each patio table. A large outdoor fireplace roared with crackling wood. Waves washed the moonlit beach beyond the restaurant, which sat on a cliff.