Kick (Completion Series) (9 page)

“About dinner tonight,” Van said as he ran up beside me.

“Dinner?” Poor Van was playing with fire and he didn’t even know it.

“Do you have more questions?”

“Do you still have octopus arms?”

He shook his head not bothering to hide his
smile. “You slay me. I’m trying to help you out before the game tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

He was so bossy. “So you’re not asking.”

“I would ask if this was a date, but it’s business, remember?”

Now I was shaking my head. I had no willpower
with him. None. “I’ll see you at seven, but no restaurants you own. I’m buying.”

He gave me a sexy smirk before running through the tunnel and disappearing.
I’d stayed through the entire practice and didn’t have much time to shower and get ready.

I showered quickly before going through my suitcase.
I had packed one real bra. It came with matching pink panties. I wasn’t a thong girl, they left me too exposed. This bra didn’t hide my breasts and I put it on refusing to consider why. I chose one of two dresses I brought with me. The material accented my figure but covered my breasts with a modest neckline. There were only so many steps I could take in one night. The conservative hemline went halfway down my thighs, and if I was careful I could even bend over. I wore flats and felt much less likely to fall on my ass. It had been years since I’d dressed for a man.

“Wow!” Van said as soon as I opened the door.
His eyes latched onto my breasts immediately.

“Wow yourself
.” I blushed, but responded without an iota of coyness. He wore nice jeans and an untucked button-up black shirt. As I glanced down, I noticed two motorcycle helmets hanging from his hand. “Uh, no. I am not getting on a motorcycle with you and especially not in a dress.”

He laughed
, and for the first time tonight, took his gaze from my body and glanced into my eyes. “You haven’t worn a dress since I’ve met you and I didn’t think to warn you. No way are you taking that thing off. Pull a pair of pants on and you can stuff them in your bag after we get to my surprise.”

He couldn’t be serious. “You want me
adding pants beneath this dress?”

“
Hell no, but I’ll survive.”

The look in his eyes told me to
shut the door in his face, but elevating desire for adventure stopped me. I’d never been on a motorcycle. I turned, grabbed a pair of jeans from my bag, and went into the bathroom without a word. I slid the pants up my legs while gazing in the mirror. My reflection showed how absolutely ridiculous I looked. I adjusted the straps of my scrap bag so it rested on my back and quickly walked out of the bathroom so I wouldn’t change my mind. Van lay stretched out on the bed, his hands behind his head, his deltoids bulging, and his legs crossed at the ankles. Oh, and did I mention his deltoids? Hell, I wanted to bite one.

“That was quick,” he said with
his fuck-me grin. So not helping.

“That’s not your bed.” I
fought not to drool. The picture of him lying there was now burned into my memory. I had enough trouble sleeping with thoughts of his body floating around my tired brain. His grin only widened. With athletic grace, he slowly stood keeping his eyes on me the entire time. My heart wanted to explode; he looked like he would pounce. Disappointingly, he turned and grabbed the helmets from the dresser. He led me out of the Inn to his bike.

“What is it?” I asked as I admired the chrome and size
of the bike.

“A Harley V-Rod Muscle. She’s a beaut.”

“She?” He’d seemed surprised I referred to my car as a she, but he was doing it too.

“Absolutely,
” he said with a wink. “Come on, my surprise is waiting.” He handed me a helmet, sat his on the bike’s seat, and helped me adjust mine. He ever so lightly hit his palm against the side of my helmet after adjusting the chin strap. Why was everything he did so incredibly hot? For a second, I thought he would kiss me, but he behaved himself.

After his own helmet was on, he slung his leg over the bike and twisted at the waist helping me on behind him. He started up the
Harley and the engine vibrated throughout my body. My inner thighs pressed into his hips and heat ignited across my jeans-covered flesh. I was close to having a spontaneous orgasm.

Van
took off and I had no choice but to wrap my arms tightly around his waist. He was completely untamed, a bad boy, and everything I needed to avoid. But sitting on the back of his bike loosened more of my inhibitions. Wild Cami screamed into the wind.

We took a side road out of town and started winding through tree
-lined hills. The sun was going down, making the scenery even lovelier. The fresh air blew across my face. No streetlights, but the headlamp from the bike lit up the street as the sunlight faded. I molded the front of my body to Van’s back as he took the corners. It scared the crap out of me, but the exhilaration was intoxicating. He drove for about fifteen more minutes before turning onto what looked like a private drive. He rounded a corner and a huge two-story home lit up by outside lighting appeared out of the dark. Conservative Cami, hiding in the back corner of my mind, got nervous.

Van
stopped the bike about twenty feet from the large front porch and switched off the engine. He put his hand out assisting me down before swinging his leg over the seat. Next his helmet came off and then mine. He smoothed my flyaway hair before his hands dropped to his sides. It must have been the look on my face.

“This is your surprise?”

His smile reflected the evil twin brother of bad boy. “Your dinner awaits.”

“Van.” I said it somewhere between a sigh of frustration and
nerves that decided to suddenly flare.

He ignored me and took my hand. “Come on, I’ll show you around.” He led me up the porch and through the front door. There was nothing masculine about the front room; antiques, Victorian furniture
, and art. So not what I expected.

“This is where I grew up,” he said softly.

“Your mother’s house?” Now the decor made sense.

“Now mine and my brother
’s. We share the place.”

“
You both live here?”

“Yes
, but he has a date tonight and won’t be home until late. Come on into the kitchen and I’ll grab the chicken for the grill. I have potatoes in the oven and a salad made.”

“Your domestic side.”

“The easiest thing I could think of to make. I can grill, but kitchen duty is not my strong suit.”

This was not a good idea
, but wild Cami pushed my nerves aside. I followed him into the kitchen walking past a winding staircase that I guessed led up to the bedrooms. Modern appliances filled the kitchen, and I envied the space. I would love to run loose in here. My tiny apartment had a small L-shaped counter with two barstools. It had a total of about three square feet to move around in. This room was a chef’s dream.

“Your mother liked to cook?”

His grin disappeared for a moment. “No, well yes… all this is new. Joel likes to cook.” He uncorked a bottle of red wine and poured us both a glass. His grin came back. “To good food and better rugby discussions,” he said clicking my glass.

How could I
resist that toast?

The delicious
wine warmed me. It was tastier than the
Cabernet Sauvignon I had the night before. I didn’t recognize the label and figured it was too far out of my price range to bother asking. Van pulled a plate with four chicken breasts from the fridge, and I followed him outside to the grill. The backyard was gorgeous with large trees covered in small twinkling white lights beside the partially enclosed patio. Two large buildings separate from the house caught my attention. One, a huge garage with four large vehicle doors was easy to identify. The other had an ivy-covered fence blocking my view of what appeared to be windows.

“Let me
get these started and I’ll show you.”

Van must have seen me studying the
building. He tugged on my hand after closing the grill and we walked over. He opened the door and turned on the lights. It was a pool house—an honest to God pool house that included a Jacuzzi, lounge chairs, changing rooms, and bathrooms complete with showers. I walked around in awe.

“The Stelson brothers are party animals.”

He didn’t deny it. “We have our moments. Would you like to swim before dinner?”

“I didn’t bring a bathing suit
, as you well know, and the steam in the room is making these pants uncomfortable.”

He brought my fingers to
his lips and kissed the backs adding a small flick of his tongue. “By all means let’s get you out of your pants.” Before I could use his name like a four letter word, he placed a finger over my lips. “Shh, I had to taste you and I was a good boy by limiting myself to your fingers.”

I didn’t argue because wild Cami
jumped past my defenses and stamped her foot. Desire washed through me and a low ache throbbed between my thighs. God my nipples even tightened, and more than anything I wanted to feel Van’s touch. “I do need some more wine,” I managed to get out past my suddenly dry lips.

We walked back
into the house and he showed me to the downstairs bathroom so I could remove my jeans. I stuffed them in my bag and left it on the counter before returning to the kitchen. My pulse raced when Van’s eyes repeatedly went to my legs. I drank my wine while he tossed a salad refusing any help. It gave me time to get my hormones under control. Well… maybe.

“Would you like to eat in the dining room or outside on the patio?”
he asked.

“The patio please.” I watched as he refilled my wine glass.

Before Van handed me the glass he reached for my glasses and took them off. “I want to see your eyes. Besides eyesight, do you need them?”

What could I do but laugh. “If eyesight is off the table, I can live without them.” I took them from his fingers
laying them down on the counter.

We went back outside carrying plates and silverware. I set the table while he checked the chicken.

“So tell me more about Cami. What does your future hold?” he asked while fiddling with the grill.

Him. His eyes. His scent. His car. His bike. The way he looked covered in dirt and sweaty from practice. I s
et my wine glass down. Too much testosterone thinking even for wild Cami. “I want to travel around the world. Write articles that mean something to more than just local Cleveland readers.”

“Mean something how?”
He sounded sincere in his interest.

“There are so many good and bad things happening around the world with women and children. I want to be
at the center of change—dig up those untold stories that transform lives. I want to follow in the footsteps of Frances FitzGerald, Martha Gellhorn, and Katharine Graham.” Van’s blank look was impossible to miss. “You don’t know who those ladies are any more than I know a football from a rugby ball, but they’re my heroes.”

His eyes were so intent.
“You’re amazing, you know that?”

I grabbed my
glass and downed the rest of my wine. Van went into the house and brought back the wine, pouring the rest of the bottle into my glass. My head spun, but it felt good—liberating almost. It wasn’t something I could describe. I was always too shy to speak my mind, I followed all the rules, and suppressed that I was any type of sexual being. Basically boring. Van made me feel alive—the way he looked at my body and asked questions about my future plans.

“Tell me about rugby
. What do you love most about it?”

“Everything,” he said simply. “I think the chicken is pretty close. Do you mind grabbing the salad
? I’ll grab a platter and the potatoes from the oven.”

We worked together without saying anything.
We sat down and Van made another toast, “To that special someone.”

I clicked his glass. Was I that special someone to him? I wanted to be. I wanted a hell of a lot more than that. I wondered if I looked at him the same way he eye
d me. With appreciation and, yes, desire.

I barely tasted my food.
“I would have sworn you’d eat steak seven days a week,” I said after he ate his second piece of chicken. I continued before he could answer. “It’s wonderful, but I can’t eat more. Please have mine.”

He didn’t argue
, just grabbed the third piece. “Joel forces it on me a couple of times a week. The chicken was for you,” he said between bites.

It amazed me that he cared more about what I might want to eat than what he liked.
I sat my fork down unable to eat another bite. “I still can’t believe the two of you live together. You seem very different.”

Van smiled just a tad. “You mean I don’t have a stick up my ass?”

I laughed a little too loudly. “That’s exactly what I meant.”

“You need more wine
. Let me grab another bottle,” he said rising from the table.