Playing for Kinley (Cruz Brothers Book 1) (10 page)

That had been the final straw, the final deciding factor in whether or not I showed up here tonight. I didn’t have any right to say so, but if Kinley was going to be kissing anyone tonight, I wanted it to be me.

But I also knew I couldn’t do that. Because we had agreed to be friends. And friends didn’t kiss each other the way I wanted to kiss her.

“Parker Cruz,” I told him, waiting for the spark of recognition to hit.

It never did.

He just nodded. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Clearly, the guy didn’t watch baseball. Probably didn’t watch sports of any kind.

“You know, if you’re a fan, I feature a lot of Ms. Masterson’s work. I have some of her photos in at least one show a month.”

I didn’t smile and my nod was curt. I wasn’t about to be friendly with this prick. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

I saw her walk up before she noticed me. “Pardon me, Ryan, but I wanted to ask you if—”

She stopped when she saw me, her eyes widening in surprise, her lips frozen in an “O” shape.

“Hey, Kinley.”

It almost hurt my heart to look at her. She was gorgeous in a long-sleeve black cocktail dress with a flare skirt that stopped above her knees. She had some sort of sexy black tights on with red heels, red lipstick that make those damn lips of hers stand out even more, and her hair pulled into a knot on top of her head.

“Parker,” she breathed, making Ryan’s head wheel around to her, questions in his eyes. It was obvious he could sense the familiarity in her voice and was probably wondering how she knew me.

I guarantee I know a lot more about her than you, asshole.

I knew the way her lips moved under mine when we kissed.

I knew the way her body molded to mine when she was desperate to get closer to me.

I knew the way it felt when her fingers gripped my hair when she couldn’t get enough.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

I waved my hand at her photos. “I came to see your show. They’re beautiful, Kin.”

Ryan’s lips thinned and I could see the frustration in his eyes, the stiffening of his shoulders. “And how do you know each other, Kinley?”

Not Ms. Masterson anymore?

“We—”

“We’re old friends,” she blurted before I could say anything more. “He’s my brother’s best friend.”

My eyes didn’t leave hers. The tension building between us was palpable.

Ryan nodded. “I see. Well, enjoy the show, Mr. Cruz.” He put his arm around Kinley’s waist and was trying to steer her away.

Hell no.

I wanted nothing more than to rip his fucking arm out of its socket.

“I actually think I’ll purchase one,” I said, making him halt his progress. Kinley’s feet hadn’t moved.

He turned back to look at me with raised eyebrows. “Was there a particular one you had in mind?”

Again, my eyes didn’t leave hers. “The sailboat.”

A flush crawled up her neck, turning the skin a delicious pink color. Clearly, she knew why that specific one would have interested me. She remembered that afternoon just as vividly as I did.

“Are you sure?” Ryan asked. “Kinley Masterson photos don’t come cheap.”

My attention was finally brought back to the jackass who still hadn’t removed his arm from her waist. And the way he said that had really, truly pissed me off. I knew without a doubt that I made more money than this pretty boy.

“Is this how you normally conduct business?” I asked him, my words short and my tone sharp. “By insulting your customers? Implying that they aren’t in a high enough income bracket for a gallery like this?” I didn’t care if I offended him. He had offended me.

He looked taken aback. I assumed that he wasn’t used to people standing up to him and calling him out on his shit. Well, I wasn’t used to taking people’s shit, so there you go.

He shook his head back and forth. “No, I—”

Obviously trying to prevent a confrontation, Kinley rushed to say, “Parker is a professional baseball player. He plays for the Red Sox. He’s one of the best in the league, actually.”

My chest felt like it was going to burst at hearing her talk about me like that and I stood a little taller. Her compliment made me feel like Superman.

When I looked back at Ryan, it looked like he was finally recognizing the connection between me and Kinley. His assessing gaze looked as if he was re-calibrating his opinion of me. Like he was seeing me as a threat for the first time.

“I’m sorry. I don’t recognize you,” he said, trying to sound aloof.

I assumed he meant that as an insult. Like I wasn’t important enough to even track on his radar. But to me, it made him look like a pansy. Didn’t watch sports, indeed.

I shrugged. “That’s okay. I didn’t recognize you, either.”

His face started to turn red, and I had to force myself from cracking a smile. Kinley handed her champagne glass over to him. “Would you excuse us please, Ryan?”

We faced off in a staring contest, me and him, but he eventually looked away and nodded at her.
Dick.

“Of course,” he told her and walked away.

I waved obnoxiously at his back. “I think I may have a new best friend. Clay will be so disappointed.”

I looked down when she didn’t answer and the smile was wiped from my face.

Kinley was pissed.
Shit.

Kinley

Of course, he had to be here.

It was like I had conjured him here. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since Christmas. Even my photo shoot upstate and the late nights I spent preparing my prints for this show hadn’t been enough to push him out of my head.

And it wasn’t fair of him to look like that, either. The suit he wore—sans tie—was black and looked like it had been tailor-made to fit that hard, athletic body. The white shirt he wore underneath contrasted beautifully with his olive skin. I wanted to run my fingers through that wavy hair that curled over his ears, too.

I was pulling him to the back of the gallery, to the room where Ryan kept all of the works not on display. I would have stepped outside into the alley for maximum privacy but it was too damn cold outside.

During our trek across the floor, Parker was stopped by a middle-aged man and his wife. “Parker Cruz!” the man said, beaming. Being the understanding guy that he was, Parker smiled cordially at them and shook both of their hands as they introduced themselves. “It’s such an honor to meet you. My wife and I have been Red Sox fans since we were kids.”

I sometimes forgot how famous Parker was now. I never saw him like that, after all. This big-shot, millionaire ball player. I just looked at him as Parker, my longtime crush, Clay’s best friend.  The little boy who had been sorry enough to make me a necklace as an apology, and my very brief and secret boyfriend.

“Would you mind taking a picture with us?” the wife asked.

“Not at all,” Parker replied easily.

The wife looked around and made eye contact with me, holding her phone out in my direction. “Would you mind?” she asked.

I smiled. “Of course not.”

“Sorry about that,” Parker said after they walked away with huge smiles.

“No problem. It comes with the territory now, right?”

He looked at me, one corner of his mouth barely quirking up. “I guess so.”

He followed me into the other room and turned to face me. I stood there and waited and he just raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You want to explain to me what you’re doing here?”

“I told you. I came here to see your show. Why didn’t you tell anyone about it at Christmas?”

My shoulder lifted. “They’ve been to some of these before. It’s not like it’s
my
show. I’ve only got six photos up so it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Well, I think it is.” His eyes flicked down to the floor then back up to me. “I’m proud of you, Kin. And I was serious about buying that sailboat print. I want it.”

My heart pounded at that. I took that picture for a very specific reason and I knew that he knew what it was.

“And you promise that’s the only reason you’re here tonight? Just to see my work?”

Because I couldn’t handle it if he suddenly started showing up in all these places, at all these events in my life. The will to control myself around him wasn’t that strong. And I didn’t need to fall into that trap again.

“Yes,” he replied, his voice deep and husky. “Friends come to see their friend’s shows, right?”

Okay. He’d made me smile. “Yes, I suppose they do. I’m just surprised you’re here tonight. I figured you had big parties to go to or something.”

He nodded. “Well, I was supposed to be on with Carson Daly, watching the ball drop. But I turned it down to come here.”

Um. What?
“Are you serious?”

“No,” he said flatly. “They passed me up for Lebron James.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, making me laugh for the second time in forty seconds.

“And speaking of…” he said as we heard the countdown start from all of the guests in the other room.

“Ten.”

Parker stepped closer and my body froze.

“Nine.”

He took another step, keeping his eyes on mine.

“Eight.”

My heart stopped completely.

“Seven.”

“Wh-what are you doing?” I asked in a whisper. He couldn’t come any closer, couldn’t be about to do what I thought he was going to do.

“Six.”

“Five.”

“Everyone should have someone to kiss on New Year’s Eve,” he whispered without wavering in his eye contact.

“Four.”

My next breath was trapped in my throat.

“Three.”

He was so close to me. I could feel his body heat, see every stubbled hair of his five o’clock shadow.

“Two.”

He leaned down toward me and I braced myself. There were no more thoughts. No thinking, just doing. And despite what I had said to him at Christmas, I wanted him to kiss me. It had been so long since I last felt his hands on me, his lips on mine. In this moment, I didn’t care how stupid it was, how much I would hate myself afterwards for letting it happen.

I just wanted one moment with Parker.

“One.”

I lifted up on my toes, my lips parting and preparing to be taken by his.

He took my hand instead. Lifted it right up to his mouth and laid the most gentle, hot kiss on my hand. It was open-mouthed but without tongue. It didn’t really matter, though. Any part of me that his mouth touched had the same effect every time: by the end of it, I was completely drenched. As in, my barely-there panties that I currently had on were soaked. And my insides were liquefied.

“Happy New Year’s, Kinley,” he breathed against my skin.

I might have passed out right then had he not had ahold of me.

“Happy New Year’s.”

##

Once again, I couldn’t sleep that night because my thoughts were consumed with Parker. But it wasn’t primarily because I couldn’t stop thinking about him. It was because he had gotten me so worked up.

It had been a few months since I’d had sex and it had been nothing to brag about. It was on one of my photo shoots and the guy hadn’t even waited for me. Then again, if there was a woman out there who could climax in thirty seconds—literally—well, my hats off to her.

So, needless to say, my last sexual encounter had been less than thrilling or fulfilling.

I appreciated the fact that Parker hadn’t tried to actually kiss me or grope me, although there had been plenty of sexual tension between us that indicated he very much wanted to. He had respected what I’d said at Christmas and did the very gentlemanly,
friendly
thing to do by just kissing my hand. I had struggled and caved in a moment of desire, but I was glad he hadn’t tried to take things further. Because if he had, I wasn’t sure I could have stopped myself from letting him.

And I would have been mad at myself afterwards.

I think he knew that, too.

He had hung around at the gallery for a little while after midnight, claiming he wanted to look around more. I think he was just waiting until I left, though. Surprisingly, we’d had easy conversation, for the first time in maybe…ever. Because it was the first time we had actually had to catch up with each other.

I told him about some of my favorite photo shoots, particularly the ones from my displayed photos. He talked to me about playing in the major leagues. We’d enjoyed each other’s company and it felt comfortable. Natural even. The most normal things had ever felt between us.

And when I was finally ready to leave, he walked me to my car—carrying the photo of mine that he bought—and made sure I got in safely.

Tonight had been full of memories. Between the sailboat and the hand kiss, I was having flashback after flashback of our summer together, especially when it came to the sexual frustration I was experiencing both then and now.

Parker stopped his truck, put it into park, and got out of his seatbelt. I was already halfway across the seat when he grabbed my shoulders and yanked me to him.

His mouth was hard and impatient on mine. His tongue was tangling with my own, thrusting so deep I almost couldn’t breathe. My moans and his groans filled the cab and the windows fogged up within seconds. His hands were all over me, pulling me closer and finally dragging me onto his lap so I was straddling him.

“Kinley...God, I missed you,” he said against my mouth.

His hands held my hair back so he could both look at me and have easier access to my mouth. I gasped when his mouth went to my throat, his wet tongue trailing a hot path from one side to the next. My fingernails dug into his shoulders, and I was afraid that I might float away if I let go.

“I missed you, too.” His mouth started moving lower, lower, until his lips were right above the neckline of my top. “Oh, please don’t stop.”

This time, he didn’t.

His fingers gripped the top and yanked it down until my black lace bra was revealed to him. “Dammit,” he growled as he kissed the exposed skin above the bra. “Why do you have to wear things like this around me?”

I frowned, looking down at his dark head hovering over my chest, the moonlight creating a spotlight on him. “I thought you’d like them.”

There was a rumble in his chest and he grunted as his hold on my waist tightened. “I fucking love them. But it makes me want to see more. Go further.”

Yes, yes, yes!

That’s all I wanted to say to him and I wanted to scream it. “Do it then. Do whatever you want.” Because I would absolutely let him. It felt so good when he touched me, I would let him do whatever he wanted.

I would let him do everything.

I was ready to give that to him.

He shook his head. “We can’t. You’re still too young.”

I was beyond sick of hearing that. I’d heard it from him all summer. I knew what I was doing.

“I’m seventeen, Parker. I’m not a kid.”

“And I’m twenty-one. And in college. I shouldn’t even be doing this with you. But I can’t stop.”

To prove his point, he finally yanked my bra down and buried his face in my chest. His mouth covered my breast, sucking on the nipple and swirling his tongue around the tip. I gripped the back of his head and pulled him closer. Tingles were spreading throughout my entire body, and I needed more of that sensation.

Maybe tonight was the night I could finally talk him into going all the way. I’d been ready ever since he first kissed me, but he kept refusing, saying we needed to wait until I was a little older.

“I need you, Parker. Please. I need you.”

“Fuck. Don’t say that, Kin. We can’t do that. When you’re out of high school, when you’re eighteen. Not yet.”

Screw that.

How could he say that when he sounded as lust-crazed as me? Like he was about to lose his mind.

I gripped the sides of his face and pulled him up to look at me. His eyes were fueled with desire and glazed with passion. If I could just get that self-control of his to snap, he would be all mine.

“I know what I want. And I want it with you. Tonight.”

I crashed my lips down onto his, sucking his tongue into mine, biting his lower lip. I used anything I could think of that I knew he loved to try to get him to change his mind, including grinding my hips into his, right over that hard length that I knew I was responsible for.

“Ah, God,” he panted. “You’re so fucking hot. I want to take you right here on this seat. I want to rip those tight jeans off and bury myself in you, Kinley. Over and over again. I want to feel you come on me, hear you when you come.”

Oh yes. Please.

I wanted
exactly
that.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I chanted, rocking my hips faster, throwing my head back in heady anticipation.

“But your first time won’t be on the seat of my truck, Kin.” My heart sank at that. “I’m going to make it special for you. I promise.” My hips halted their movement and I looked down at him to find him already looking up at me. “I’ll make it feel the way it should. I’ll be gentle and easy at first and then I’ll be harder. I’ll make it feel good either way. Any way you want it.”

God, he was so sexy. He could make my heart want to pound out of my chest.

But he could also make my heart melt with his sweetness.

“But until then,” he continued as he deftly unsnapped my jeans. His fingers plunged underneath my panties before I even realized what he was doing. “I can still make you feel good.”

Then, his fingers entered me, thrusting up inside so deep, I saw stars.

I hadn’t given him my first time.

He ended things and left me about a month after that, ultimately breaking my heart.

Instead, my first time had been with a guy I barely knew in college, Ethan, and it hadn’t even been memorable. They say you always remember your first time. Well, I didn’t. Not really. The only two things I remembered was that it had been disappointing and that I had been thinking about Parker the whole time.

At that point, we hadn’t spoken a word to each other in over two years and I had given up all hope that he would suddenly change his mind and come back to me. I’d waited after he left me. I’d held on to that part of me, refusing to give it to any other guy in case Parker realized his mistake.