Taming the VIP Playboy (5 page)

Then his lips brushed over hers again and she stopped thinking about the future or capturing anything. She thought instead of the way his flesh felt against hers. She thought of the way his lips parted against hers and his tongue pushed past the barriers of her lips and teeth tasting her deep.

The way he took control of the entire embrace, the same way he'd taken control of her night.
Control.
It had always been something she prided herself on but now it hardly seemed worthwhile.

His arms were big and strong as he wrapped them around her and she felt the muscles of his upper arms, the strength in him. Though he was no longer a professional athlete, Nate Stern was still a very strong man.

She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed back to look at his face. The genial smile he'd worn all night was gone and in its place was a fierce expression.

“Too much?”

“Maybe,” she said. “Maybe. I came to work tonight expecting everything to be the same, Nate, and now it's not.”

“Good. Life should never be predictable.”

She shook her head. “Yes, it should. How else do you find your balance if life is always throwing you off?”

He stood up and drew her up beside him. “You find it in the people.”

“Family?” she asked as he led the way to the railing.

“Or the city,” he said. “Miami never changes. Not really. Not at its heart. Sure there is a different political climate sometimes but for the most part, the beach and subtropical climate encourage a more laid-back approach to living.”

His arm around her waist was strong and guiding as he brought them to a stop at the far end of the railing. The sounds of Luna Azul's rooftop club were even more muted here and she looked out over Calle Ocho and Little Havana.

“Did you grow up here in Little Havana?”

“No. I grew up on Fisher Island.”

“Oh,” she said. She'd known that from the reading she'd done on him and his brothers before she'd taken this job. But the way he spoke about Miami, well, it had sounded as if he knew the city. The city she'd grown up in. Being middle class—okay, lower-middle class—she'd grown up in a far different neighborhood than the affluent community of Fisher Island.

“You?”

“Here in the city.”

He tipped her head up. “Then you know what I mean.”

She closed her eyes and thought of the city and the rhythms of the Calle Ocho. She thought of the struggling
lower-middle class who still knew how to have fun and remembered birthdays spent on the beach.

“Yes, I do.”

“Show me what you see,” Nate said. He moved around so that he stood behind her. His chest and front pressed along her back, his hands settling on her waist and his chin resting on her shoulder. “Show me your city.”

She started to point out the places she knew and what she heard when she was there. “Each part has a different rhythm, a different feel to it.”

“Like dancing?”

“Just like dancing. Some of it is hip and current, other parts sensual and emotional, some parts are the blues…the vibes all resonate around me.”

“Show me,” he said again, turning her in his arms and kissing her the way he had when they were sitting down. But this time he pulled from her so much more than a response to a kiss. He pulled out the song that she heard in her head. The song that was the very heart of who she was.

And she shared it with him with the sensual undulation of her hips. And the way she rested the curves of her breasts against the firmness of his chest.

T
he sun was just coming up over the horizon when they arrived at his penthouse apartment in a skyscraper downtown. Nate had seldom enjoyed an evening as much as he had this one and he knew it was due to the fact that he was with Jen.

She stood in his foyer looking sleepy but happy and in this moment, Nate felt as if the night was a success. Somewhere between all the kisses and caresses he'd realized that despite the fact that she was a dancer and spent her life with people staring at her body, Jen was shy about letting anyone touch her too much.

He pulled her into his arms. He didn't care about the city or what she thought of it, he wanted her. Had wanted her from the moment she'd sassed him in the club earlier. And the entire night had just reinforced that longing.

“I like this place,” she said as she walked across the Italian marble floor.

She stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass windows in his living room. “This view…”

“Incredible, isn't it?” he asked, coming to stand behind her. He put his arms around her and drew her back against him.

“I had fun tonight,” she said. “I didn't expect to.”

“Why not?”

“This wasn't my best day,” she said.

“I thought you enjoyed yourself,” he said, leading the way to his modern kitchen. He directed her toward one of the high-backed stools at the counter.

“Tonight has been fun. But it started out worse…I'm tired, so I'm not making sense. I meant to say you made a bad day better.”

“I'm glad. What was bad about it?”

“Just some news I was hoping would be different.”

“What news?” he asked as he started gathering the ingredients for omelets from the refrigerator.

“Remember earlier tonight when you asked me about my secrets?” she asked. She didn't look up at him but instead traced a pattern on the Mexican tile countertop. Her finger just ran across the pattern over and over again. He was struck by how long her fingers were. He wondered what they'd feel like on his skin.

“I do, indeed. Does the bad news have to do with your secrets?” he asked. He really hadn't thought she was hiding much. She was a dancer and a choreographer. What kind of secrets could she have?

“Yes, it does. I don't know what you know about my past,” she said, glancing over at him.

“Not too much. If I had to guess I'd say you were a dancer.”

“You'd be right on the money. Dancing has been my life for as long as I can remember. And I made a mistake
a few years ago and haven't been able to compete since then,” she said.

“What kind of mistake?”

“One that involved a man,” she said. Her eyes were wide and weary as she watched him and he kept his face neutral.

“It's funny, Jen, but a woman ultimately led to my change of profession.”

“Really?”

“Yes. When I was injured I had been engaged and while I was recovering, she decided to move on to a different player.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I'm not. Obviously, we weren't going to be happy together. I learned a very important lesson from her, one I haven't forgotten,” he said.

“What was that?” she asked.

“That I'm not cut out for marriage,” he said.

“To her,” Jen said. “Why did you tell me?”

“So you wouldn't feel like you were the only one to make a mistake because of love. What happened with your ‘mistake'?”

“I was forbidden from competing in the Latin dance competitions. I filed an appeal,” she said. “After a lengthy review, the verdict stands and I'm still not welcome to compete.” Her shoulders fell. “I'm never going to compete again.”

“That's okay. You are going to do other things,” he said. “At the club every night you share your love for Latin music and dances with someone new. That has to count for something.”

She shook her head. “It's not the same.”

“No, it's not. But that is life, isn't it?”

“Yes, it is. I am still struggling to figure out where I'm going to fit in without competition.”

“How long has it been since you competed?” he asked. He thought she'd been working at Luna Azul for at least a year.

“Three years. I filed a protest as soon as it happened. And I don't want to sound like I'm full of myself but things usually work out for me. I just expected this to do the same.”

“My dad used to say that everything happens for a reason,” Nate said, hearing his father's voice in his head. “We might not understand the reason but it's there.”

She tipped her head to the side and studied him. “Do you believe that?”

“Yes, I do. I'm going to tell you something I don't let most people know,” he said, leaning across the counter so that their faces were close.

“What is that?”

“I couldn't have been as content playing baseball as I am with the life I'm living now.”

“Really?” she asked, sounding a bit skeptical.

“Truly. I get to see my brothers every day. I'm paid to entertain my friends and make sure that people have a good time. Is there a better job in the world?”

She nodded. “I see what you mean. I do love dancing and I'm able to do that every night.”

She got a far-off look in her eyes and he knew there was more to the story than she was letting on. “I guess I had gone as far as I could in that career. It was time for something new.”

“And you get to spend the morning with me,” he said.

“Wow, Nate, don't sell yourself short,” she said with a laugh.

“I never do,” he said, kissing her.

 

Nate's advice made sense and she liked the way he gave it out effortlessly and didn't try to pretend that he had all the answers. He was more than she'd expected him to be, but then he'd been surprising her all night. She should be used to it.

“I'm not really hungry,” she said at last. She hadn't come back to his place to eat and they both knew it.

“I'm not, either.”

He came around the counter and drew her to her feet. “Want to see the rest of this place?”

“Yes, I do.”

He led the way down the hall to his bedroom. On the walls were exquisite pictures in bright colors that reminded her of Mexico City. His home was very modern and now. But it wasn't a cold, modern decor, it was very warm and inviting and Jen was amazed that she felt so at home here.

She drew him to a stop under a portrait of him wearing a Yankees cap. “When did you take this?”

“Season opener. My dad wanted it…he was so proud of me for going pro. He came to every game if it didn't interfere with his playing schedule. This hung in his bedroom at our home on Fisher Island.”

“When did he die?” she asked.

“Two weeks after I got injured. He didn't know I'd never play again,” Nate said. “I'm glad.”

“I think he'd still be proud of you,” she said. She knew that her parents would have been proud of her no matter what she did. Marcia always said that parents just wanted their kids to be happy. Usually she was referring to her own seven-year-old son Riley.

“I'm not sure. Why am I telling you all this stuff?” he asked.

“People tell me things,” she said. “I think I look like the girl next door and people just feel comfortable with me. You probably do, too.”

“Girl next door? What do you mean by that?”

“Just someone comfortable. You know, the kind of girl you can tell your secrets to.”

“You called yourself a girl.”

She mock-punched his shoulder. “I do it all the time, but that doesn't mean I like hearing a man call me a girl.”

He smiled. “Just when I think I have you figured out you do something else to surprise me.”

“I hope I'm not so easy to figure out,” she said. No matter that she told him about her dancing suspension. She usually played her cards closer to her chest. But to be honest, she had no idea how to deal with this life now that she had no direction. And opening up to Nate felt right somehow.

“You're not. You are very complex,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “And very beautiful.”

He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, telling her how sexy he found her body and how much he wanted to touch her all night. His breath was warm and she liked hearing what he said.

He made her feel like she wasn't incomplete. And that was it, she thought. Since she'd had her appeal denied, she realized that she'd felt broken, but here in Nate's arms none of that mattered.

She twined her arms around his neck and lifted herself up to kiss him. His mouth moved hungrily over hers and she lost herself. His hands skimmed down her back and settled on her hips. He pulled her closer to him.

The feel of his strong, muscled arms around her
made her feel very delicate and feminine. She had never been with a man who felt like Nate did. He was strong, muscled, his body still in shape from years of being an athlete. There was no way for her to pretend he was anyone other than Nate Stern.

Her blood flowed heavier in her veins as he moved his hands over her. She knew that Nate was in control of this embrace. She was letting him set the tempo and as much as she wanted him, she wasn't ready to take the lead in anything between them. He lifted her off her feet.

“Wrap your arms and legs around me,” he said.

She held tight to him as he walked them into the bedroom. He sat down on the edge of the king-size bed. His hands roamed up and down her back as she looked down at him.

He tipped his head up and kissed her. There was passion in the kiss but also a note of tenderness and it was the tenderness that won her over. She held his face in both of her hands and plunged her tongue deep into his mouth. He reciprocated, tangling one of his hands deep in her thick hair.

He held her tight as passion overwhelmed her.

He leaned back and she straddled him on the bed. He palmed her breasts, cupping and fondling them gently. She undid the buttons of his shirt and he slowly drew her blouse up her torso. She liked the sensation of the cloth against her skin. She stopped what she was doing and tipped her head back, enjoying the moment.

His hands were warm against her flesh and he draped the fabric over the top of her breasts so that it hung there. His big hands encircled her waist and drew her down toward him.

She felt the warmth of his breath against her nipple
a moment before his lips closed around it. She held his head again as he suckled her through the lace of her bra. Everything in her tightened as he caressed her.

She tried to reach behind her to unfasten the bra but he held her wrists. “Not yet. I want to do it this way.”

“You do?”

He nodded.

She reached between their bodies and found the hard ridge of his erection. She stroked her hand up and down over him through the fabric of his pants.

“Do you like that?” she asked as he arched his back and moved his hips against her stroking hand.

“Very much. Want to get naked?” he asked, with a grin.

“More than you can imagine, but I thought you wanted to wait.”

“Touché,” he said, snaking his hands around her back and undoing the clasp of her bra. He pushed the fabric up out of his way and then lifted her off his lap. “I can't see you in this light.”

He rolled over and turned the bedside light on. “Take your blouse off.”

She removed it and her bra as he took off his shirt. The muscles she'd noted when he'd carried her were visible now. His pecs well-developed, his arms all sinew and strength.

He had a light dusting of hair on his chest and it tapered down to a thin line, which disappeared under his belt into his pants.

She stood up next to him. She caressed him from his neck down his chest. Swirled her fingers over his pecs and thumbed his flat nipples before letting her touch go lower.

He stood there and let her explore him. She liked the
way the hair on his chest abraded her palm. She liked the warmth of his body and the strength in him.

She leaned down and let her lips follow the path that her hands had. She nibbled on his neck and felt his hands on her back, sliding up and down. Rubbing over her spine and then moving slowly back up.

She felt him lower the zipper at the side of her skirt and the fabric pooled around her feet. She stood there in her flesh-colored bikini panties. He took her hands in his and held her arms away from her body.

“Someday, I'm going to ask you to dance for me when we are alone,” he said.

“I might,” she said. “But only if you do something for me.”

He nodded and brought his hands to his belt. Slowly he undid it and drew it through the loops on his pants. He tossed it on the floor and then pushed his pants down. “Come here.”

“No, you come here,” she said.

He arched one eyebrow at her and came over to her. She pushed him down on the bed and gave him a minute to get situated before she came down on top of him. She put her hands on his shoulders as she straddled his hips. She rubbed her feminine center over his erection and felt his flesh flex under her.

“Like that?” she asked.

“Hell, yes.”

He gripped her hips and rubbed her over his penis. She tipped her head back as she enjoyed the sensation, which spread out all over her body. Gooseflesh spread down her arms and her nipples tightened.

Nate leaned up and ran his tongue over her nipple and her flesh tightened even more. She shifted her shoulders
so that her nipple brushed over his lips before he closed them around it and suckled her deeply.

“I want you,” Nate said.

“I know,” she whispered. She leaned down over him, rubbing her self against him.

“Why aren't we completely naked?” he asked.

“I…I don't know. I thought you'd like to do the honors.”

“Indeed, I would,” he said.

He pulled her flush against his body and rolled them to their sides. Then his hands swept down over the curve of her hips. He tugged on the waistband of her panties lowering them slowly. She lifted up to help him and he pulled them down her legs and tossed them on the floor.