Field of Pleasure (13 page)

She tore her mouth from his. “You're right, I don't,” she said. She looked him in the eyes. “But we can't do this here.”

“Then where?” he asked. “Because no matter what, in ten minutes I'm going to be inside of you.”

 

A jolt of need shot like an arrow down Chyna's spine, settling in a pool of desire between her thighs. Blood pounded in her ears and her heart raced with the arousal Jared's hot promise created.

“I don't live too far from here,” she said.

She felt his muscles stiffen against her. He took a step back, his intense gaze boring into hers with a combination of inquiry and lust. Instinctively, her tongue darted out of her mouth and wet her lips. Jared's gaze zeroed in on her mouth and his breathing slowed, his chest rising and falling with measured breaths as he continued to stare at her lips.

“I'm giving you one minute to change your mind.”

She shook her head. “I won't change my mind. I want you.”

He pulled in a deep breath and crushed his mouth against hers in a swift kiss. They quickly shut off the lights and Chyna locked up the studio.

The drive from the dance school to her apartment was only a few minutes, but felt like an eternity. Now that she'd made the decision to take this momentous step, her body shivered with eager anticipation of everything Jared had to offer.

He pulled up to the curb and shut off the engine, but didn't make a move to exit the car. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I need to take a minute to calm down. If I don't, I'm going to jump all over you the minute we get inside.”

His visible struggle fascinated her. His hands, jaw and eyes all clenched tight as his chest expanded with another intake of air.

“Jared?” Chyna waited for him to look over at her before she continued. “I kinda want you to jump me as soon as we get inside.”

His eyes narrowed with smoldering need. Without another word, they both rushed out of the car and up the stairs. Anticipation turned her fingers to jelly as she fumbled to open the door to her apartment. As soon as there were inside, Chyna tossed the keys and flung her arms around his neck.

Jared picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. One hand skimmed her hip and thigh while the other gripped her butt, clutching her to him. He pinned her to the door, going for the hem of her shirt while he assaulted her with bruising kisses along her neck and collarbone.

Chyna pulled the T-shirt off and threw it to the floor. Her skin tingled with delicious anticipation as Jared's head plunged south. He dove for her breasts, nipping and licking and sucking through her purple lace bra. One hand snaked up her spine to the single eyehook, which he released with an expertise Chyna didn't want to think about.

She didn't want to think about anything but the feel of his tongue against her sensitive, long-neglected nipples. He switched from one to the other, drawing hot, wet circles around the turgid nub before drawing it into his warm mouth and tugging.

She cried out, arching her back against the door.

Jared tucked one arm under her behind and gripped her back with the other as he carried her from the living room to her bedroom.

“Summer, move,” he said, and for the first time Chyna registered her dog yipping and scampering around Jar
ed's feet. As he placed her none too gently in the center of the bed, Chyna forgot all about Summer.

“God, that's sexy,” he said, staring down at her.

“What?” Chyna asked, pushing up on her elbows.

“You. Lying there topless.”

He pulled his shirt over his head, but when his hand went for his waist, Chyna stopped him.

“I'll do that,” she said. She sat up and unbuttoned his jeans. With some effort, she tugged the zipper down his rigid fly. Together they both pushed the jeans and black silk boxers from his hips. His erection sprang forward, thicker and bigger than she was expecting.

Chyna experienced a twinge of apprehension. It had been a while since she'd done this. She wasn't sure her body could accept all of him without being torn in two.

Jared tenderly caressed her cheek and her anxiety floated away on a wave of trust and longing. She wrapped her hand around his pulsing erection, but he quickly removed it.

“No.” He shook his head. “I doubt I'll last more than five minutes as it is.” He gestured with his chin. “Lie back.”

Chyna did as she was told, scooting back until her head met the headboard. Jared knelt beside her on the bed and hooked his thumbs at the waistband of her black leggings. His fingers left a stream of scorching need as they trailed along her thighs and legs. He laid his palm flat, just above the edge of her lace underwear, then glided his hand up her stomach to the valley between her breasts. He bent over her and his tongue seared a path along her abdomen, leaving a hot, moist trail in its wake.

He gripped her boy-cut panties and pulled them from her hips and down her legs. Chyna kicked the underwear
away, and her body instantly blushed at the realization that she lay completely naked before him.

“Don't you dare,” Jared said when she went to cover herself.

Reaching over the side of the bed, he pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and drew out a condom. He ripped the package open and quickly covered himself. Then he braced a hand on each side of her head and lowered his body.

Summer yelped.

Chyna looked over to find her dog on the pillow next to her.

“I can't do this with her watching us,” Chyna said.

“She doesn't know what we're doing,” Jared reasoned, trailing his tongue along her bare shoulder.

Chyna tried to forget about Summer's watchful eyes as Jared's huge body hovered above her. He went for her neck, nipping just below her ear. Chyna tensed as she felt the blunt head of his erection probe at her center.

Before he could penetrate her, he drew back with a frustrated grunt.

“Yeah, okay. This exhibitionist thing isn't working for me, either. It's like having your kid watch you have sex.”

He rolled off of her and scooped Summer from the bed. Scratching behind the dog's perked ears, Jared said, “I will buy you every doggie treat in Manhattan if you be a good girl and don't make any noise.”

Chyna couldn't help but laugh. Wasn't he the same person who'd made fun of her for talking about her dog as if she were a real person?

Jared opened the bedroom door and placed Summer on the other side of it. As he strode back to the bed, Chyna's amusement swiftly turned to arousal as she took
in the corded muscles of his sinewy thighs, arms and stomach. He was strength and power and maleness. A captivating combination that made her skin prickle with awareness and her stomach clench with expectation.

“Now,” Jared murmured, resuming his position above her. “Where were we?”

As he lowered himself, Chyna had a feeling she was embarking on one of the most pleasurable rides of her life. With the long, wet swipe of Jared's tongue across her nipple, she knew it as fact.

He levered himself up on one arm and advanced on her breasts with single-minded determination, laving the rigid peaks with his tongue and sucking with just enough pressure to drive her out of her mind. Chyna's stomach clenched with each sinful pull, her hand snaking up Jared's spine to his head, holding it more firmly to her breast.

As he continued to worship her with his mouth, one errant finger skimmed its way down her taut stomach to the moist curls between her legs. With deliberate slowness, he trailed his finger through the slick folds, finding his way to the knot of pulsing nerves at her cleft and rubbing with gentle pressure.

Chyna burrowed her head in the pillow, staring up at the ceiling as she tried to concentrate on the chaotic mass of sensation shooting from points along her body. From her breasts that were still held prisoner by his seeking tongue to the spot between her legs that vibrated with need. She was so close her entire being quaked with it, her body trembling with anticipatory pleasure, staggering on the brink of fulfillment but not quite there.

In an act of supreme mercy, Jared put her out of her misery, slipping two fingers inside of her and bringing her to a swift, shattering climax. Before she had
the chance to come down from the sensual high, he removed his fingers from her body and replaced them with his thick erection. His arms straining on either side of her head, he rocked back and forth with powerful, fluid strokes, filling her with every inch of him before pulling almost completely out.

Loud, sharp gasps escaped her throat with each thrust of his hips, filling the room with the music of their love-making. Chyna closed her eyes and lost herself in the hypnotic rhythm, undulating her hips to meet him stroke for stroke.

Without warning he increased the tempo, plunging deep and swift, in and out, taking her higher and faster toward the climax she knew awaited her just on the other side. Chyna gripped his backside and pulled him tighter against her, sinking her fingers into his flesh.

Jared groaned deep in his throat. The corded muscles of his neck stood out in stark relief as he started pumping with fierce, maddening strokes. Over and over and over. He plunged into her body, circling his hips and driving her head against the headboard with the force of his thrusts.

A burst of sensation ricocheted throughout her bloodstream as she came. The pleasure was pure and explosive, making her body hum with satisfaction.

Jared's sweat-slicked chest crushed her, but Chyna was too tired—too totally, utterly, deliciously spent—to complain. Her rolled off her and collapsed on the bed, expelling an exhausted sigh.

Chyna threw a languid arm over her eyes. “I've never had movie sex before,” she said between labored breaths. “I should have known I'd get it with you.”

“Movie sex?”

“Yeah,” she said, turning over and resting her head in
her upturned palm. “You know, with clothes flying everywhere and multiple orgasms. It's only in the movies that people have that kind of sex.”

His eyebrow tipped up in the sexiest way imaginable. “Is that what you think? That it only happens in the movies?” He reached over and pulled her on top of him. “Give me a few minutes of recovery time, sweetheart. Hollywood's got nothing on what I'm going to do to you.”

“W
hat time does your class end?”

Jared fitted the phone more securely between his ear and shoulder. He switched from Sports Talk TV to ESPN, trying to decide which had the better pre-Draft coverage.

“I have a hip-hop class in five minutes, and then I'm done for the day,” Chyna answered.

“Will you come over?”

“But it's Draft Day. I thought you'd be watching it at the Sabers compound.”

“Nah,” Jared said. “I'm not up for a crowd. I'd rather be with you.”

She paused, then said, “That's so sweet.”

He lowered his voice. “Sweet doesn't describe what I have in mind.”

A half hour later, there was a buzz from the concierge desk. “Mr. Dawson, there is a Miss McCrea here to see you.”

Jared told the concierge to let her up and raced for the door. He was waiting at the elevator when it opened.

“What happened to your class?” he asked as soon as Chyna stepped into the hall.

“Canceled.” She dropped her bag just inside the door and took his face into her hands. “The instructor caught a case of the stomach flu. It seemed to have miraculously gone away on the subway ride over here.”

She attacked his mouth as they both stripped out of their clothes.

Twenty sweaty, exhausting minutes later, Jared lay completely spent, staring at the recessed lights of his living room's high ceilings. They'd tried to make it to the sofa, but only managed to get as far as the faux fur rug before turning each other inside out.

The woman had an insatiable appetite, which was just fine with him. He'd love nothing more than to spend the next seventy-two hours naked and exhausted and wrapped up with Chyna.

She rolled off him and turned, fitting her back against him and drawing his arm across her waist. Jared spooned more firmly against her moist, smooth skin. He trailed his hand from her shoulder to her hip, then back up to cup her breast. Teasing her nipple with his thumb, he nudged the hair away from her neck and gave her a quick love bite.

“Was that movie sex?” he whispered against her neck.

“Oh, yeah. Completely X-rated.”

With a deep chuckle, Jared pushed up from the floor and went into the bedroom, pulling the down comforter from the bed. He walked back up the hallway and stopped short at the gorgeous display of firm breasts and delicately rounded hips standing in the middle of his living room.

God, she was divine. With her long, wavy hair and
heart-stopping curves, all she needed was a half shell and she would be Botticelli's perfect caramel-colored Venus.

She noticed him and smiled, not displaying even a hint of the embarrassment she'd shown when he'd first stripped her clothes off last Saturday night.

“The draft is about to start,” she said. “Are we watching in here or the media room?”

“You choose,” Jared said. “As long as we watch it naked, I don't care.”

Jared grabbed a bottle of wine and brought it into the media room. He sat in the center chair and opened his arms for Chyna to join him. She snuggled into the cradle of his arms, her skin still warm and damp from their floor sex.

Her bare hip rubbed against him and his body instantly responded, swelling to almost a full erection. Chyna peered at him over her shoulder.

“Are you sure you can handle naked TV?”

“I'll handle it…or die trying,” he gasped, willing his body to calm down. He powered up the entertainment system and adjusted the volume. “There's still another twenty minutes before the first draft pick is announced.”

“Any idea who is going first?”

“There's always a pool—completely under the table, of course—betting on which guy will go first, but no one ever really knows other than the team that's on the clock.”

“You ever win the pool?”

“I don't bet, sweetheart.”

She twisted around to look at him. “Why not?”

Jared debated how much he should tell her. Only his closest friends and a few people in the Sabers organization knew about his gambling issue, but his gut told him he could trust Chyna.

“I got into some trouble a few years back,” he said. Then he clarified, “I bet on a couple of games.”

“I would think that would be against the rules,” she said.

“Oh, it is,” Jared huffed out a humorless laugh. “But rules aren't always followed. Sabers upper management decided not to report me to the league if I agreed never to gamble again.”

“You were lucky.”

“I was damn lucky.” He nodded. “I miss the excitement of waiting for a bet to pay off, but it's not worth losing my career. I've found other ways to create the adrenaline rush.”

“Really?” she asked, snuggling against what had turned into a full-blown erection.

“Oh, yeah,” Jared said. He shifted her around and drew her more firmly onto his lap, hooking an arm under each knee so that she straddled him.

“Jared,” Chyna gasped. “What are you doing?”

“Wait a second.” He clutched her waist. “I'll show you.”

He took her hard and fast, plunging high and deep, bringing her to a swift and shattering orgasm. After the quickest, most erotic shower of their lives, Jared settled back into the buttery soft chair and pulled Chyna back onto his lap. Against his wishes, they were both wearing clothes, though the sight of her in his T-shirt and boxer shorts was almost as much of a turn-on as seeing her naked. Almost.

“So, when do the Sabers get to choose?” she asked, reaching over and grabbing a handful of popcorn she'd popped from the bowl. She stretched her hand over her shoulder to feed him a few pieces of popcorn, and Jared
realized he could live in this moment for the rest of his life.

Never in all the time he and Samantha had been together had he felt so at peace just
being
. In only a few short weeks, he and Chyna had found a level of comfort that he'd never experienced with any other woman, even one he'd given ten years of his life to.

“The Sabers have the twenty-sixth spot.”

“Why so late?”

“That's the way the draft works,” he answered with a shrug. “Your positioning is based on your previous season record. The team with the worst record picks first, and the Super Bowl champs pick last. Unless a team has traded their draft pick, either to get a player on another team's squad or to move farther up in the draft.”

Which is what everyone had speculated the Sabers would do in order to get a new quarterback, but Jared had yet to hear insider information on how upper management would proceed in today's draft. He'd tried to pull some info out of Torrian, but his friend wasn't talking.

They sat through the first five draft picks, which were all as predicted by the dozens of mock drafts posed by football analysts. Seeing the excitement on the young players' faces brought back memories of his own draft day. It was pure bliss for those picked early, but could be agony for the players waiting in the green room for their names to be called.

Watching the clock tick down the five minutes the Seattle Seahawks had to make their selection, Jared nuzzled the soft, pliant skin along Chyna's jawline, breathing in her unique scent.

“How were your earlier dance classes, before you got that nasty stomach flu?” he murmured against her neck.

“They were fine,” she answered without much enthusiasm.

“You don't sound as if they were fine.”

She shook her head, and with a deep sigh, said, “I found out today that the owners have decided to sell the school.”

“The economy?” he asked.

“That may have factored into it, but I think they're just ready to retire. Mrs. Borne said they're moving to New Mexico to be closer to their grandchildren.” She heaved a melancholy sigh. “My heart breaks for the girls in my class. I didn't have a place where I could take free lessons when I was a kid. I worked like crazy, doing odd jobs to scrape up the money for dance school. I hate the thought of those girls having to do the same.”

He kissed her behind the ear. “Hopefully the next owners will keep the free lessons going.”

“I hope so. If they're even able to sell the school, that is. It won't be easy to find a buyer in this economic climate.”

“Maybe you should buy it,” Jared urged.

“Right,” Chyna snorted. “As my mother says, ‘I don't have a money tree, just a fake ficus.' And I don't even have that. Summer ate all the leaves off the one plant I tried to keep at my apartment.” She fitted herself more securely against his chest. “I'll just keep my thoughts positive and hope for the best. Maybe someone will see worth in it.”

Jared ran a hand up and down her arm, mentally researching the contacts he had that could look into purchasing the dance school. Probably the real estate agent who had helped to find the building they had renovated for the Red Zone.

Buying the studio was a no-brainer, despite the fact
that he knew zero about owning a dance school. It wouldn't be the first venture he'd invested in to help out family and friends. Some had turned into a huge waste of money, but others, like the karate studio he'd financially backed for one of the guys on his high school football team and the yogurt shop he'd funded for his cousin, had turned a nice profit. So far, the Red Zone looked as if it would fall into the profitable category, too.

He wasn't looking to make any money from buying the dance school for Chyna. Just the chance to see the smile on her face when he presented it to her would be payment enough.

Damn, he'd nearly forgotten the gift he'd scored for her.

“Speaking of dancing,” Jared opened. “I heard there was some fancy dance troupe at the Met tonight.”

Chyna twisted, looking at him with guarded excitement in her eyes. “It is not just
any
dance troupe playing at the Met tonight. It's the Kirov Ballet, one of the oldest and most famous Russian ballet companies, and their one-night-only performance has been sold out for months. You do
not
have tickets,” she stated.

Jared didn't respond, just continued to stare at the television, his mouth tipping up in a smile.

“Jared,” she said with a warning tone.

“I'll pick you up at six.”

Chyna's eyes widened with pure delight. He burst out laughing at her excited squeal.

“This is amazing,” she squealed. “I'm considering this an early birthday gift.”

“You have a birthday coming up? When?”

“Next Wednesday.”

“Hmm…” He pressed a kiss to the top of her hand.

“That gives me a week and a half to figure out some way to celebrate.”

“The ballet tickets are more than enough. Really, Jared, you have no idea how much this means to me.” She rewarded him with a kiss that made him wish they were naked again. God, his body couldn't get enough of this woman.

She twisted back around and faced the TV again, bringing both his hands around and settling them on her stomach.

“Hey.” She nudged his shoulder and pointed to the screen. “The Sabers are up next.”

The NFL commissioner made his way to the podium.

“With the twenty-sixth pick in this year's draft, the New York Sabers select Delonte Cannon from Rutgers University.”

There was a mixture of cheers and boos from the crowd at Madison Square Garden, which boasted a large number of Sabers fans. Jared hardly registered the noise. Panic struck his chest like a bolt of lightning, the instant shock rendering him speechless.

The Sabers had just used their valuable first-round draft pick to acquire a cornerback.
His
position.

“Is he good?” Chyna asked, oblivious to the storm that was churning in his gut.

“Yeah,” Jared murmured. “He's good.” He tapped her on the knee and gave her back a gentle nudge. “Can you let me up? I need to go to the bathroom.”

Chyna scooted off his lap, but before he could walk away, she caught his arm. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked. “You look…I don't know…off.”

“I'm good,” Jared lied, bending down and placing a kiss on her nose. “You need me to bring you anything?”

“Just you,” she answered, returning his kiss.

Jared headed for his bedroom, closing the door behind him as he pulled up Torrian's phone number on his cell. Pacing the floor in front of his bed, Jared tried to wrap his head around the message the Sabers' upper management had sent with that draft pick.

As soon as the call connected, Jared spit out in a fierce whisper, “What the hell is going on?”

“Just calm down,” Torrian urged.

“Why should I when one of my best friends didn't bother to tell me my job was in jeopardy? You could have given me a heads-up, Wood.”

“Look, man, we shouldn't even be discussing this. I'm already in a tough spot when it comes to still being so tight with both you and Cedric. There's an invisible line between coaches and players that you're not supposed to cross. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jared growled into the phone. He ran an agitated hand down his face as he continued to trek across the carpet. “I just didn't think I'd have to compete for my own damn job,” he said.

“Your job is secure,” Torrian reasoned. “Do you really think they would replace a veteran player with your numbers with a rookie fresh out of college? This was an investment in the future of the team. Delonte Cannon is going to be a great addition to the Sabers secondary in a few seasons and you'll be there to groom him. End of story.”

“Yeah, if that's what you say.”

“Don't worry about this, Jared. Just make sure you're at the top of your game when training camp starts in a few weeks.”

“I always am,” Jared said before he hung up.

He took a moment to calm himself down. Torrian was right; the Sabers were likely just planning for the
future. Jared had witnessed Delonte Cannon in action during tryout week. The kid was a natural, with the type of raw athletic ability that made him eligible to play any number of positions. They may have drafted him as a cornerback, but who knew what would happen in training camp? With those hands and that speed, Delonte could even join Torrian's wide receivers core.