Faceoff (15 page)

She was going back to work on Monday to resume that plan toward partner. But as that thought entered her head and nerves buzzed in her stomach, it was then she realized how incredibly different she’d felt this past week. How easy and relaxed she’d felt—no headaches, no sore neck, no stomach problems, no panic attacks. Well, just the one.

She’d laughed a lot, talked a lot, cooked and eaten and enjoyed food more than she had in a long time, exercised more than she had in years, swimming, waterskiing, running with Tag. She’d had a lot of very hot sex, which had also probably been very therapeutic. She’d had fun. The idea of going back to her workaholic existence suddenly seemed less appealing.

Her dad approached and smiled at her. “Hey, sweet pea.”

“Nice speech, Dad.”

“Thanks. I know it was hard for you to get up here this week. Just wanted you to know we appreciate it. Especially your mom. We worry about you.”

She sighed. She’d heard this before. “I know. You don’t need to. I’m determined to make partner, Dad. Don’t worry, I’ll live up to the rest of you some day.”

He frowned and tipped his head. “That’s not what I meant, sweet pea. I mean we worry that you focus too much on your work. You need to have a life.” He paused. “I’m not sure how you got the idea that we expect that of you. I mean…you’re an intelligent, talented woman. We know you’re capable of doing whatever you want in this world. But we love you no matter what that is, Kyla. If you make partner, we’ll be proud, sure. But if you don’t, we’ll still be proud. We just want you to be happy.”

She opened her mouth to tell him she
was
happy, but couldn’t say it. Because she was starting to realize…maybe she wasn’t.

“I know I was away on business a lot,” he continued. “But there were a lot of trips I cut short so I could be back for your piano recital or one of Scott’s or Michael’s games. My bosses always knew that family came first.”

She gazed up at her dad, remembering those times he’d rushed in the door just in time for her jazz band concert or a playoff game. There’d been things he missed, yeah, but looking back, she had to admit he’d made a big effort to be there for them as a dad. And had still managed to climb the corporate ladder.

“I don’t think you know this,” he continued. “But I once turned down a promotion because it meant we would have to move to Germany.”

“What!” She gaped at him.

“Your mom and I talked about it. We didn’t want to uproot you and your brothers.”

“But…wow.”

“Family is most important,” he said again. “If you got the idea from me that career is most important, then…I am so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault I’m like this,” she said, voice husky. “It’s just me.”

“Ambitious,” he said with a smile, laying a hand on top of her head. “I understand that. Just make sure your priorities are straight. Need another drink?” He held up his empty glass.

“That’s okay, I’m good.”

Her dad moved on and the conversation rose and fell around her, Remi’s soft laugh, Tag’s deep voice, Emily’s nonstop chatter. Her eyes sought out Tag and watched him.

It was their last night together.

What had started as a week of fun, exploring the sexual attraction that had always been there between them, had turned into something that felt like a lot more. Maybe she shouldn’t even go to his tent tonight. Her emotions were all close to the surface today. First she’d nearly burst into tears in front of Tag’s mom, now her dad had almost made her cry again with his touching speech about family. Having sex with Tag always made her feel more, and tonight…that might not be a good idea.

He looked up and once again met her eyes, his lips quirking into a small smile, so warm, so sexy. Just for her. Her heart tilted crazily in her chest.

* * * * *

Much later, Tag lay in the tent, waiting for Kyla as he had every night for the past week. It was their last night. Thinking of all the things they’d done there made him realize he’d grown very fond of this tent.

Yeah, they’d tried out pretty much every kinky toy in his bag of tricks. Kyla’d proven sexually adventurous and surprisingly willing to let him take charge in bed. Submissive, but yet an active participant. They were a good match that way and he got hot all over just remembering everything they’d done.

They were a good match in other ways too, he had to admit. He liked being with her even when it wasn’t late at night in the tent. They laughed at the same things, had that easy way of talking to each other about pretty much anything. Sometimes when they were in the big family group, someone would say something and he’d look at her and know, somehow, that she was thinking the same thing he was.

It had been a good week, but next week was back to reality.

He was excited about it. He smiled up into the tent, hands behind his head lying on the bed. He’d felt overwhelmed before he’d had this week up here, overwhelmed by all the new expectations of him, the pressure of it. But strangely enough, after talking to Kyla about it, and also after talking to her about her career, he’d realized—he loved it. He loved
playing
hockey, but he loved everything about hockey―the business of it too. And he loved promoting it and talking about it to the whole world. It felt like contributing to the team and to the sport in a whole new way. Maybe he’d be good at it. He wanted to be.

So while this week had been great, he was looking forward to getting back to the city and jumping back into things.

A shadow appeared at the tent door and Kyla slipped in.

“Hey,” she said quietly, fastening the door.

He watched her, as always fascinated by the graceful way she moved, her slender body, her long shiny hair and her alluring smile. She sat on the bed beside him and looked at him.

Oh-oh.

“I wasn’t sure if I should come,” she said.

“Why?”

“I don’t know exactly. I just thought…maybe it was better to leave things the way they were. I know we’re both going to be thinking this is our last night and I don’t want to make it into more than it is.”

His gut clenched. He chose his words carefully. “We talked about this. We both felt the same.”

“Yes. We did.” She looked up at him and smiled, her white teeth gleaming in the dim tent. “So I’m here. For one last night. Better make it good, buddy.”

He laughed. She constantly surprised him. “C’mere, Mac.”

He pulled her down so she lay on top of him and she stretched out. He parted his legs so she fit between and she kissed him, one hand on his face, her hair falling down around them. He opened his mouth beneath hers, slid his tongue inside and wrapped his arms around her body, holding her tightly as they kissed. As always, just kissing her heated his blood and hardened his cock.

One hand slid into her hair and held her head as they kissed, long, wet kisses, and he gave himself up to it, the softness of her mouth, the feel of her breasts pressed against his chest. She moved on him in a sinuous little wriggle and he spread his legs wider for her, lifted his hips into her softness.

Damn she was sweet.

She bit softly at his lips, rubbed her nose against his and breathed in. His chest expanded with warmth and the rush of emotion made him roll her over, tucking her beneath him. Both still fully clothed, he sealed his mouth back over hers and pressed her down into the mattress. His teeth grazed her jaw and she trembled. His tongue dragged up the side of her neck and she moaned. Her hands grabbed at his back, tugged his shirt up until she found skin.

It was their last night together.

He wasn’t supposed to think about that. He was just supposed to remember how much fun this week had been, how beautiful she was, how hot the sex had been. It was just sex.

He buried his face in the side of her neck and breathed in her scent, a scent he would never forget, spicy sweet and coconutty. Maybe she only smelled like that here at the lake from the sunscreen she used, but he loved it. He opened his mouth on the soft skin there and tasted her.

Her hands ran up and down his back and she made needy little noises deep in her throat. He lifted his head and raised his hand to her forehead, pushing her hair back, resting his hand there. Gazing down at her, he said, “You know how much I love foreplay.”

“Yes,” she breathed. “You’re a god. A foreplay sex god.”

He couldn’t help the laugh her words tugged out of him. Jesus. “I’m just warning you, tonight’s not about foreplay. I have to be inside you, Kyla, like now.”

“Okay, yes, yes.” She wriggled her hips against him again, sending flames shooting from his balls up his spine. He groaned.

He rose up to strip off her T-shirt, tonight a little black one that said “Lawyers do it with appeal”. He’d shaken his head in amusement earlier when he’d seen her in it. Now it was coming off.

She half sat so he could pull it over her head, her hair a wild tangle around her head once the shirt had dragged through it. Hot. He reached behind her to unfasten her bra. Another source of fascination, the underwear she wore beneath those saucy little Ts and short shorts, all silky and sheer and lacy, in colors of bubble gum and peach and lemon.

She lifted her hips so he could pull off the little shorts and tiny thong panties. His heart raced in his chest and his dick throbbed. He bent his head to kiss each thigh, drew her scent inside him, kissed the patch of curls between her legs. He slipped his hand between them as he moved back over her. “Oh yeah,” he said. “So wet.”

He yanked his own T-shirt over his head, then stripped off his cargo shorts along with his briefs. With warm eyes and a sweet smile, she watched him as he moved back over her, supporting himself on his arms while he kissed her mouth again. Her hands came up to his waist.

More emotion rose inside him, surprising him, almost choking him, and then he was inside her, her sweet heat clasping him, her hips lifting to meet his. “Yes,” she whispered. “God, yes. Tag. Fuck me.”

Oh yeah. Oh yeah. He kissed her, then moved back onto his knees, spread wide. She raised her knees for him and he thrust in deeper still, so deep, fucking her deep. He curved his hands around her slender waist and held her, bracing her for each plunge of his cock inside her. Her breasts quivered, so soft and perfect. Her lips parted and she gazed back up at him with those beautiful dark eyes, full of something…

He closed his eyes, his heart stuttering. His breath dragged in and out of his lungs as pleasure poured through him with each stroke. And then he had to look at her again, to see her face even though what he saw there made his insides tremble.

Lots of times good sex made him feel like he was in love, and maybe he was, a little, with the woman he was with at the time, but it didn’t usually last and the one time he’d let it, he’d ended up fucked over. He’d vowed that would never happen again, so sex was sex and that was all it was.

This was so much more than sex it made his heart hurt. But Christ, he couldn’t go there again. With a long shredded groan, he fell over her and buried his face in the side of her neck, sucking her flesh so gently, licking her there, his arms around her head. Her fingernails bit into his back, scraped up and down, and every nerve ending ignited. They moved together perfectly in exquisite unison, their bodies fitting together flawlessly, the drag and pull of her pussy on his dick an almost unbearable sweetness. Tension coiled inside him, a twisting flame, and he gasped her name.

She urged him on with whispers and murmurs, her legs wrapped around his hips, rocking and clutching, and once more he lifted up to kiss her, his hand on her forehead, then he looked down at her. Her eyes glowed with unspoken emotion, a connection between them he could feel pulling them together. His chest clenched, his body tightened and he was gone, all the way gone, every thought in his head lost, just feeling, feeling her around him, her hands on him, feeling love.

Chapter Twelve

Kyla had the hour-long drive back to Winnipeg to do a lot of thinking. A lot of thinking about Tag. About what had happened last night between them. She’d come so close to telling him she loved him and she didn’t even know where the words had come from. They just seemed to rise up inside her, uncontrollable. It was ridiculous. She had no intention of falling in love or messing her plans up with a relationship. Guys expected too much—they wanted all her attention, didn’t want her working sixteen-hour days, expected her to be free on weekends.

Who the hell was she kidding? Who wanted that kind of life forever? She wasn’t stupid, but she’d definitely been blind. Or blinkered. Or stubborn. Whatever. The closer she got back to the city, the tighter her stomach got and the more her head began to ache from clenching her jaw.

She had time to think about her career and all the questions Tag had asked that she didn’t want to answer. She had time to think about her dad’s words to her, about family being first. The truth was, when she really thought about it, she hadn’t been entirely happy for a while. And looking into the future, even if she did get what she wanted, which was making partner, she wasn’t so sure now she’d be any happier. A heaviness filled her.

Her BlackBerry, plugged into the charger, chimed on the seat beside her. It was against the law to talk on a cell phone while driving, so she just glanced at it. Then it chimed again. And again. Shit.

She grabbed the phone, hoping there weren’t any RCMP cars out patrolling to see her, and thumbed the track ball. Christ. A ton of missed calls, starting Wednesday. All from the office. That iffy cell-phone coverage up at the lake had let her down.

She tossed the phone down and bit her lip. What was she going to do about it now, on a Sunday evening?

But she found herself parking in the small loading zone outside the Richardson Building. She could run into the office and her car would be okay there on a Sunday night for a couple of hours.

She turned on the lights in her office and powered up her computer. She surveyed the folders and documents that had piled up in her week’s absence.

Three hours later, she’d checked emails, found out what all the calls were about, done some research and had solved the problem. Now she was ready for Monday morning. Sure she was.