Playing for Hearts (98 page)

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Authors: Debra Kayn

Tags: #romance, #contemporary

BOOK: Playing for Hearts
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“Oh, God … ” She clasped her hands on his biceps, digging her nails into the hard muscles of his arms.

Bruce panted, moving faster, harder, more deliberately. “That's it, sweetheart.”

She moved and reached. Reached and moved. Her core tightened and straightened, heating and coiling hotter with each stroke, each rub, each touch.

“Give it to me,” he said, grunting every time he sank balls deep inside of her. “So fucking beautiful.”

Bam.

As if he controlled her body, she let go. Every cell fluttered in response. She blinked to keep her eyes open through the overload of pleasure flooding her body from the inside out.

Bruce grunted, thrusting and holding himself stiff. His arms quivered in her grasp, and through his own pleasure, he never once took his gaze off her. Even then, he kept his attention centered on her, for her, giving her everything.

Chapter Twelve

Crista overslept. Bruce remained on his back, his arm around her, and enjoyed the way she'd wound her body around his when she finally gave up the fight and fell asleep. He'd lain wide-awake for the last two hours, selfishly taking the quiet to enjoy a woman's warm body on him.

He stared at the ceiling. No, not any woman … Crista.

Because he'd slept with her, questions plagued him. He needed to call his manager.

Beyond what he was doing in two weeks, he had no idea how to fit Crista into his life. He sure in the hell wasn't going to be satisfied with every other month visits and short phone calls while he traveled the world. She had a job and training to do, so it wasn't like she could fly around with him while he worked.

Crista sighed in her sleep, stretched her leg, and when she was done, pulled her leg up higher until the inside of her thigh settled on his dick. The warmth and pressure was enough to set him off, and he hardened. Aware of the softness of her breasts snuggled against his ribs, he forced himself to act.

“Crista,” he said, sliding out from beside her. “Wake up, sweetheart.”

He gathered his jeans off the floor and slipped them on. Glancing at the Crista in the bed, his cock throbbed in need, but he only had a short time to fix everything so they could both get to the place where they'd have forever together.

Damn, he'd had no idea how perfect she was with her clothes off. Her breasts, firm and bigger than he'd imagined, overflowed his hands. Her legs—which he'd admired often for their strength and muscle formation, had wrapped around him last night in such a way that he could still feel their imprint on his hips.

Crista rolled to her side and lifted her head. “Bruce?”

Against his better judgment, he approached the bed, leaned down, and kissed her. His blood pulsed. He needed more.

He nudged her mouth open and tasted her tongue. His hand went to the back of her neck, and held her there as he deepened the kiss. Hell with it, he could stay in bed all day and call his manager tonight.

The mattress cushioned his knee. He leaned over her, guiding her back on the bed. His balls tightened, knowing in a few minutes he'd settle himself between her legs and enjoy her again.

Crista planted both of her hands on his chest and pushed. He continued his path down, and ended up belly down on the mattress with Crista nowhere in sight. He turned his head and found her standing beside the bed, arms crossed over her breasts, and her eyes as wide as a reflective bass lure.

“I missed work.” She darted her gaze around the room. “Totally missed my class. It's over.”

He pushed himself off the bed and stood. “We were up most of the night. You needed your sleep.”

A strangling noise came from her and she blinked up at him without saying a word. He straightened his shoulders. She had something to say; he only had to wait for it.

She found her voice. “You let me sleep in?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw and studied the red marks at the side of Crista's neck. “Shit. I need to shave.”

“Are you insane?” She hurried out of the room. “No, don't answer that. This is whacked.”

A door slammed and the shower came on. He let his head fall back on his shoulders and gazed at the ceiling.
Women.

He'd never understand how they could go from hot to cold while he stood there alone with a morning hard-on that needed attention. Maybe he was better off not knowing what went through a woman's head. He walked out to the living room, shucked his jeans, and put on clean clothes. When he finished lacing up his boots, Crista still hadn't come out of the bathroom.

He poured two glasses of orange juice and found a few of the granola bars she kept for mornings when she was in a hurry. He sat one down by her glass, and inhaled two of them himself. Not even food was taking his mind off Crista naked in the shower without him. He wandered back into the living room and sat on the couch. For all he knew, she was in there soaping up her body, rubbing the suds around her breasts, down her stomach, and he was missing out on the opportunity.

He stood and stepped over the coffee table to join her in the bathroom when his cell phone rang. He leaped back over to the couch and swiped the keypad. “Yeah?”

“Coldwell, your tickets will be at the gate and I'll have your itinerary in your hotel room along with your bags,” his manager, Dwayne Hagstone, said.

“What day am I flying out?” He plopped down on the couch.

“On Thursday. Three days,” Dwayne said.

“What?” He leaned forward and braced his elbow on his knee. “I have another week off.”

“Not any longer. Fish and Game contacted the judges last night. The water temperature fell on Lake Konaco. They want the tournament over to restock the lake before they miss their window to replant. We're having to jump through hoops or we'll have to reschedule, which will mess up the world tournament.”

“Fine.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Do me a favor and order another plane ticket and upgrade my room to a suite. I'm bringing someone with me.”

Dwayne cleared his throat. “Bruce … ”

“Don't worry, it's someone special this time,” he said.

Dwayne laughed. “Don't bullshit me, Coldwell. Every woman is special for the day. I don't want your head wrapped around another model and not on fishing.”

His shoulders tensed. Crista was not just another distraction. “Things have changed since we've talked, and I need to change a few things. All future events will have to be planned for two people. I only want the best hotels, the best service, and while I'm competing, you will see after Crista's safety.”

“Crista? That chick that hangs out—”

“Respect, Dwayne. If you want to continue managing my career, then you'll do what I ask. Her name is Crista; use it,” he said.

“I hope you know what you're doing,” Dwayne said.

“There's no doubt. I'll be there, and I'll take home the win,” he said. “I'll call you before we board the plane.”

He disconnected the call. Feeling a whole lot better, he set the phone on the couch and went to join Crista in the shower.

The bathroom door opened before he could step inside. He ogled Crista, who somehow had showered and dressed in a pair of biking shorts and a sports bra. He smiled because he knew exactly what would happen when he peeled back the spandex of her bra and let those babies free.

“I can't believe you let me oversleep.” Crista pushed past him and continued on to the living room.

He tilted his head to the side and followed the sway of her hips. His fingers itched to cup her ass and haul her over his shoulder.

“You know how important it is to train, and my clients rely on me. How can I expect them to dedicate their lives to being the best, to remaining in top condition, and exercising every single day if I can't even manage to show up for our scheduled training sessions?” Crista lifted one leg and slipped on a low-cut sock then repeated the movement with her other leg. “Not to mention, I need to train. Missing one day will set me back a week. I'm old, Bruce. I can't take time off or everything I worked for will deteriorate into fat and make me weak.”

He frowned. He had no idea what she was talking about and decided he'd like nothing more than to kiss the back of her knees. He stepped toward her and leaned over, grabbing her around the thighs.

“What are you doing?” She shrieked when her feet left the floor.

“Bed.” He pivoted.

Crista came alive, kicking and tearing at his shirt. “Let me go.”

He continued walking, enjoying the feel of her body undulating against him. Her ass, on his shoulder, was a tempting sight. He entered the bedroom and dove on the bed with her, crawling up her body and pinning her wrists to the mattress.

“I need—”

“To shut up.” He grinned, taking her mouth with his, and kissing her into submission.

Her movements stopped. Her body softened, and her legs widened, letting him ride the waves of her body as she settled down. He tasted, teased, and set about fully dominating her. It was like reeling in the biggest catch, and she was the trophy.

He loved her for her big attitude, but he enjoyed the competition of making her his. When he got inside her head and touched her body, she melted and he was hooked.

He kissed her softly, easing back little by little, until he was inches from her mouth. “Change of plans, sweetheart. You're flying out with me in three days, so re-arrange your schedule.”

She stared up at him. Her dilated pupils mirrored his reflection.

“Then from Washington, we'll fly to Cottage Grove and get together with the others,” he said.

Her gaze narrowed. “Washington s—”

“State.” He trailed his hand down her hip, pulling her leg tighter against him. “You smell good.”

Her hands came off the mattress and she tugged on his shirt. “I can't go.”

“Why not?” He shifted, letting her pull the material off his body. “You can train while we travel. You've done it before.”

Her fingers sprawled on his chest, kneading his muscles. “Clients.” She wiggled underneath him, reaching down for the button of his jeans. “Can't lose my job or I lose my apartment, too.”

“Move in with me,” he mumbled against her neck as he slid his hand between her shorts and her stomach.

“I can't.” She moaned when his finger skimmed over the nub between her legs.

She cried out, a rasping whimper in the room. He quickly yanked her shorts off, using his bare foot to kick them off her feet so he could unfasten his own jeans. Crista's hands continued touching him all over: his chest, his nipples, his stomach.

By the time his cock came from his jeans, he groaned in pleasure. He stretched over her, reaching for a condom on the nightstand. Crista slid down in bed and a hot, moist suction latched onto him. His toes curled and he stared down at his dick in Crista's mouth.

Crista angled her head and gazed up into his eyes, and damned if that wasn't the hottest thing he'd ever seen. His thought process petered out at the stroke of her tongue. It was all he could do to hold himself up on his arms.

She licked in slow, lazy, strokes, then a deep plunge, sending shockwaves through his body. He fisted the blanket, scared of moving in case she stopped.

Her lips tightened and her cheeks indented until dimples appeared on both sides. His pulse, already throbbing, sped faster.

Crista's eyelids fluttered. Warmth flashed over the surface of his skin, knowing she was turned on by taking him with her mouth. His heartbeat centered along the base of his cock, and he wanted inside of her. He wanted to feel her come. He wanted her hard and fast.

“Need you.” He growled, hefting his weight to one arm and taking her hand. “On your knees, sweetheart.”

Crista scrambled out from under him, rolled over coming up on her knees, and held on to the headboard, presenting her backside to him without any questions or hesitation. He settled between her feet, running his hands over her hips, taking in the rounded shape.

She thrust out her ass, lowering her head, letting her wet hair fall between her arms. He moved in closer, hand on his cock, and entered her pussy slowly. He panted for control, but she all but sucked him in. The sensation almost killed him with pleasure.

“Honey,” she gasped. “Now.”

He gripped her hips, ready to give her everything he had. He braced her body for his thrust and then grunted as he slid fully into her wetness. The soft cushion of her ass was his reward. Wet and hot, she rocked back for every forward motion he made, meeting him halfway. Her body trembled under his touch and he held on for all he had, knowing she was going to come hard and fast, and he wanted to be ready.

Crista's hair whipped back and lay sprawled along the middle of her back. The arch in her body let him go deeper, and he took full advantage of her position. Keeping a grip on her hip, he used his other hand to grasp her hair and hold her poised in front of him.

“Yes,” she hissed out.

His hips spontaneously jerked at the guttural need coming from Crista. He'd had no idea she had it in her to play rough, and he liked the surprise. He lurched and withdrew until the head of his cock almost exited her body then slammed back into her fully. She spasmed around his length and he saw stars. Fucking stars.

“You like that?” He gave her more, knowing she couldn't lie.

Her moans filled the room and their breathing raised the temperature. He tugged her hair, taking the way she lunged back, almost on her heels, slamming into his pelvis. His balls tightened and he quickened his pace.

“Yes, yes, yes …” Crista's body stiffened and she convulsed in front of him, squeezing his come out of him. He pitched forward, letting go of her hair, her hip, and landing on top of her with his hands spread wide on the bed. He closed his eyes to clear his vision and inhaled deeply, exhaling on a shudder.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled against her shoulder.

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