For the Win (15 page)

“You know, the technical rule is that sex doesn't happen until the third date,” he said as she fumbled with her keys.

“So I've heard,” she said dryly, not sure where he was going with that line. Her aloofness belied how just hearing Gabe say the word “sex” sent heat flooding to the apex of her thighs.

As soon as they entered the apartment, Gabe hoisted her up and wrapped her legs around his waist, sealing his lips to hers. Betraying her better judgment, she thrust her hands into his hair and returned the kiss. He kicked the door shut behind him and spun her around until her back was pinned against the wall. The possessiveness of his grip made her heart race. His tongue slipped past her lips, hungrily searching for hers. She could taste the sweet traces of ice cream on his lips. She ground her hips against his pelvis until his erection was rock solid.

“Technically, since this isn't a date, we aren't breaking any rules by having sex,” he said breathlessly.

With a heavy weight in her chest, Lainey sighed and slumped against him, resting her head against his shoulder. “I can't do this. Last weekend was fun, but it's over now.”

“Why? I like you. You like me. At least, some of the time you do,” he added with a grin. “And you can't deny we have incredible chemistry.”

She tightened her legs around his waist, telling herself this would be the last time she got so close to him. “That's exactly why we can't do this. We're too intense together. I can't afford any distractions.”

“I don't have to be a distraction,” he said, rocking his hips gently against hers. A blast of heat shot through her body. “We can be casual if you prefer.”

Such simple, logical words, yet they felt like a knife to her gut. Lainey didn't want to be another one of his random flings tossed aside as soon as he was bored with her. She wanted something real, something worth fighting for. And that couldn't happen until after the season. She straightened to face him. It was almost impossible to look into his enchanting sea-blue eyes and not get completely, utterly lost. She closed her eyes instead.

“I can't do moderation. I have no willpower when it comes to you. You overwhelm me.” Proving her point, Gabe was already running his hands under her shirt, just beneath the curve of her breasts, and she wasn't stopping him.

“Then think of me as an asset. Haven't you noticed how much better everything has been for you and the Falcons since I came into your life?” he asked, nuzzling her neck.

Her breath hitched as one of his hands found her breast, massaging it gently. He pulled the cup of her bra down and circled her nipple with his thumb. “I . . . I guess that's true,” she managed to say before groaning. The small part of her brain that was still working while Gabe pulled her shirt over her head and unclasped her bra reminded her that he was right. The Falcons were winning, and respecting her as a captain more than ever.

“And you wouldn't want to risk having all that progress go to waste, would you?” he asked as she unbuttoned his shirt.

“I suppose that wouldn't be prudent,” she said, running her tongue along his neck. “But I need you to know something.”

She pulled back and looked him in the eye.

“You can tell me anything.”

Lainey took a deep breath. “I can never be the kind of woman you want. Right now my career comes first. Maybe it always will. I train at least four hours a day. I plan out everything I eat the week before. The last thing I think about before I go to bed every night is scoring goals that would make Pelé and Maradona weep. I'm not willing to change that for anyone, and I would never ask you to give up your dreams, either, but I can't live inside your orbit. I mean it. I can't afford any distractions right now.”

He brushed his thumb along her tender, kiss-swollen lip. “Silly, silly woman. How many times do I have to tell you that I'm attracted to you
because
of your dedication and success, not in spite of it? I would never undermine that.”

“I want to believe you.”

“I'm not like other guys you've dated. I understand better than anyone what it means to be a professional athlete. I know how much blood, sweat, and tears go into it.”

“I—”

“Three more weeks,” he blurted out before she had a chance to answer him. “Give me until the season starts to show you that I can make you happy and help you be a better player. Give me a chance to show you that you can have it all. If you're right and this combustible chemistry between us doesn't make you a happier, stronger player, we'll go our separate ways. But if I'm right, then we'll take it from there. What do you say, Lukas? Be my girlfriend for the best three weeks of your life?”

It was so silly that she laughed. “Three weeks? Okay. I can do that.”

Gabe hollered and pumped his fist in the air.

“Wait!” She pulled her hands up to his face, tilting his head to look her directly in the eyes. “If we do this, you have to promise me that you won't take it easy on me during the final rounds of the Battle of the Sexes. I want to win fair and square.”

He slipped his hand beneath the front of her jeans and cupped her pussy, like he was confident she'd already be wet and ready for him. He was right. “I wouldn't dream of it. Now tell me again how much I overwhelm you.” He tapped a finger lightly against her sensitive clit, causing her entire body to jerk.

“You're the sexiest man I've ever seen,” she said in a hushed voice.

“More,” he growled, sliding the tip of his finger inside her, using his thumb to work her clit in slow circles. Lainey whimpered, heat rushing through her body.

“I can't stop thinking about your body. It drives me crazy.” She cried out as his finger sank deeper, massaging her into a state of delirious arousal.

“More,” he repeated fiercely, slipping in another finger and pumping rapidly.

“I . . . I had a poster of you in my room when I was in college. I would touch myself when I looked at it,” she said, completely consumed by the momentary euphoria.

Gabe stilled. The predatory look in his eyes was so fierce that Lainey held her breath.

“You should not have told me that,” he murmured. Lainey's heart pounded so hard against her rib cage, she could feel the reverberations in her head. Silently, he carried her to her bedroom, where he stripped off the rest of her clothes with stark determination.

“Show me,” he commanded. When she hesitated, he said it again, his voice thick with lust.

With a mixture of panic and excitement, Lainey lowered herself onto the bed. Goose bumps prickled her skin, and her lungs felt like they were frozen as she struggled for breath, but the rest of her body was on fire. She didn't even know how or where to begin, so she trailed her hand to her breast and caressed herself, stroking the side and plucking at her nipple. Gabe's growl coaxed her on. She licked her lips and lowered her hand to the apex of her thighs, slicking her moisture over her clit. She was so wet, it shocked her to feel it with her own fingers. The heavy rise and fall of his chest emboldened her to continue. Knowing she was driving him crazy just by touching herself gave her an unparalleled rush.

Gabe let his shirt drop to the floor, his predatory gaze never leaving her. He pulled condoms from his pocket and tossed them beside her onto the bed, then shucked the rest of his clothes. He circled his erection with his palm, working his shaft with unhurried strokes, swiveling over the head and back. With his other hand, he tugged his balls, fixated on Lainey's reactions. She whimpered, feeling her climax rush upon her.

“Come for me, baby,” he said, walking to the edge of the bed.

Lainey shattered as waves of ecstasy rolled over her, and collapsed on the bed.

“We're not done yet.” With explosive speed, Gabe grabbed her ankles and slid her to her feet. He turned her around to face the mirrored closet doors and pulled a condom on. Standing behind her, he gripped her butt cheeks open and eased himself inside her while she rested her hands on the edge of the bed. She cried out, still reeling from her earlier orgasm as his cock filled her more deeply and fully from this angle than she could have ever imagined. “I make you wet, don't I? So very hot and wet and tight.”

She whimpered, not having recovered her voice yet.

“And you make me hard. Do you feel how hard I am for you?” He gave a deep thrust. “You do that to me, Lainey. You bring me to my knees when you touch yourself.”

“So hard,” she whispered.

He gently tugged her hair back to force her to look in the mirror as he worked himself inside her. “You're so beautiful when you orgasm. I want you to watch yourself when I make you come.”

“Fuck me hard, Gabe. Show me how much you want me,” she said, watching their faces in the mirror while their bodies rocked together in a beautiful, rhythmic motion.

Gabe roared and slammed into her, using all the speed and strength of his athletic body. One of his hands rested on her hip; the other roved to her breasts and clitoris, working her into a frenzy. Moans, whimpers, and screams escaped her mouth, and he sent her body into a state of bliss. He pounded into her for what felt like an eternity, never losing steam. Lainey matched his pace, slamming back onto him to deepen the intensity.

“That's it, baby,” he ordered, picking up the friction on her clit.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Lainey screamed as the surreal pressure of her orgasm shot through her entire body once again. She kept her gaze in front of her, watching herself in the mirror. Her face was flushed, eyes wide, and mouth open, gasping for air.

Though her limbless body wanted to fall back to the bed, she held on a few more minutes, letting Gabe ride her until he threw his head back and called her name.

15

Sure, the pressure can be tough, but no one becomes a pro soccer player if they're afraid of a challenge.

—
Gabe Havelak, quoted in
Behind the Surge: A Documentary of Seattle's First Professional Soccer Team

WHEN GABE WOKE,
HIS
first thought was that last night hadn't gone as he'd expected. Not that he minded how things turned out, but he'd assumed they would talk about why she ran away without so much as a good-bye when he dropped her off last weekend. And maybe he'd apologize for sulking at her rejection and not calling afterward. Then again, he didn't really want to admit he was sulking.

But this was much, much better than he'd anticipated. He'd spent the night curled up next to an amazing woman after a mind-blowing round of sex, with the promise of three more weeks of ecstasy. It was probably going to bite him in the ass in the end—the time with her would never be enough. He just didn't know how to convince Lainey that the chemistry between them couldn't be denied any longer. But it stung to see the look of doubt on her face, and even though she was the one fighting their attraction, he noticed she'd looked unhappy when he suggested they keep it casual. There was no doubt there'd be consequences to his plan, but Gabe was more than happy to forgo thinking about consequences in favor of hot sex.

In fact, he had some pretty great ideas about how to procrastinate a little more this morning, but he hesitated to wake Lainey, who was still sleeping next to him. He rolled onto his back and took in the decor of her apartment. It was surprisingly normal. Low-end Ikea furniture and a television, beneath which was a stack of meticulously labeled videos of her matches. As far as insights into her personality, there was a large color-coded calendar detailing her weekly workout plan and some posters of Pelé, Drogba, and Hamm. None of himself, he noticed, making a mental note to remedy that situation ASAP.

Gabe reached behind his head to fluff his pillow and fully savor the serenity of this otherwise perfect moment. He felt something crinkle beneath his hand.

What do we have here? Tucked inside the pillowcase was a crumpled piece of paper.

Lainey grunted and rolled over. “What time is it?” she mumbled.

“About six,” he answered, trying to decipher the faded chicken scratch scrawled on the paper.

“Ugh. Just once, I wish I could sleep in.” She pulled her pillow on top of her face.

“Hmm, looks like that's number four on this list.”

Lainey threw the pillow on the ground and rolled toward him with a look of terror on her face. “Give me that.” She tried to snatch the paper from him, but Gabe was much quicker. He held it just out of reach.

“Tell me what you have planned for the Falcons' fund-raiser.”

She scowled. “That's playing dirty.”

“You said last night not to go easy on you in the competition. I need to use every advantage.” Gabe gave her a devilish smile. He couldn't help it. Teasing her was just too much fun and he loved seeing that spark of energy whenever she was angry or determined. Or turned-on. He definitely liked that switch.

She dropped back on the mattress and stared at the ceiling. “Fine. Just get it over with. But if you ever think about holding that list against me, I will rip your balls off.”

Gabe chuckled, even though he knew she was completely serious. “Let's see. ‘Number one: get a haircut with bangs.' ” He glanced over at her. “You need a list to remind yourself to get a haircut?”

“It's my bucket list of things to do after I win the World Cup.”

“Most people have a bucket list of things to go before they die, not after a victory. You do realize you won the World Cup, right?”

She made a frustrated noise. “Winning doesn't count if you never got to touch the cup.”

For the first time, the reality of her situation dawned on him. After every World Cup, FIFA took the trophy back after the big game and locked it away. The winning team got only a replica. The only chance to touch the trophy was in the moments after the final whistle blew, signaling the most important victory of a soccer player's life.

Nothing could ever impart the same joy that standing on that Norwegian field with her teammates, raising that glorious, golden statue could have provided. The trophy was a stunning masterpiece of curling, glossy metal that symbolized all the dedication and sacrifice it took to make that magical moment. All the anguish and splendor of creating an indelible unison of eleven feisty, unyielding athletes.

Lainey missed that moment.

He knew she wouldn't want his pity, so he kept it to himself. “Hmm, I'm not really a fan of bangs, but we can get you a haircut today.”

With impossible speed, she bolted upright, leaned across his body, and tried to snatch the paper once again. The press of her lush breasts against his chest nearly distracted him. Nearly. But once again, Gabe was quicker. “ ‘Number two: get a library card. Number three: make friends. Learn to make homemade salsa'? Seriously? This looks like a list of chores to take care of after you move, not a bucket list.”

“If you don't like it, give it back.”

Gabe rolled out of bed and gathered his clothes. “Not a chance.”

“Where are you going?”

He tossed her panties at her. “Come on, let's go make some of this happen.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You need to learn how to have some fun in your life, and there is no one better than me to teach you. Besides, none of this stuff needs to wait until after the season. You're the master of concentration and focus. I doubt a haircut will be enough of a distraction to throw you off your game. So come on, let's get you that haircut.”

“I have to go for a run, and then I'm working for my uncle this afternoon. And, by the way, I'm a girl. I don't re-wear underwear before washing it.” She tossed the panties back at him.

He grinned and tucked them into his front pocket. “Until when?” he asked, ignoring her growl.

She twisted her mouth into a pout. “Three o'clock.”

“Fine, I'll pick you up at three. I'm keeping the underwear. And the list.” Gabe tucked the paper in with the panties and left with a wink.

LAINEY PACED IN HER
apartment that afternoon, waiting for Gabe to pick her up. She'd never shared her list with anyone. How did Gabe always manage to get under her skin? He was like a bad case of scabies. If scabies were sex gods with fantastic asses. The fact that he had her list made her feel more vulnerable than anything they'd done together. And, man, they had done some pretty crazy stuff in the last twenty-four hours. She fanned herself, overwhelmed by the memory of just how much she let herself be exposed in front of Gabe. She didn't come out of that feeling bad or ashamed, though. In fact, she felt amazing. Bold. Powerful.

Maybe crossing a few things off her list wouldn't be so terrible.

The telltale roar of the Porsche echoed through the second-story window of her apartment. She grabbed her keys and headed out to meet him. She slipped into the passenger side and was surprised when Gabe leaned over to give her a sweet kiss. Lainey's first instinct was to pull back, but then she figured that after mind-blowing sex, a few casual kisses were to be expected.

As they drove off to what Lainey could only describe as certain doom considering the lack of information she had, Gabe handed her list back to her.

“I made some changes.”

She unfolded the paper. In red pen, he'd scribbled all over it. “You scratched out ‘learning to cross-stitch.' ”

“This is supposed to be a list of things to bring excitement to your life, not a list of ways to prematurely turn yourself into an old lady.”

“But you wrote in ‘learn to bake pie.' ”

He shrugged. “Strawberry rhubarb is my favorite.”

Lainey rolled her eyes. “Instead of joining a book club, I'm supposed to learn to snowboard?”

“I'll take you up to Whistler next winter and teach you.”

Her heart skipped a beat. How were they suddenly talking about next winter? She swallowed her excitement. Gabe was a good-time guy, not a long-term guy. He'd said so himself when he suggested they give their relationship an expiration date. Five minutes from now, he'd probably forget he even made the suggestion to go snowboarding. Frankly, Lainey wasn't too sure that would be a bad thing. This was strictly a three-week deal. She just had to remember not to get her hopes up, not to get attached to the idea of him and her. “I could break my leg. That would end my career.”

“Not if I'm teaching you. Plus, cuddling up in front of a fire is pretty awesome. Now keep reading,” he said with a grin.

She read on and promptly smacked him on the shoulder. “Give your man a blow job while he's driving his Porsche?”

He sank back into his seat with an easy smile. “I'm ready if you are, babe.”

“This is a list for me, not you. Besides, who's to say I haven't already done that? I mean, not in a Porsche, but same idea . . .”

Gabe sputtered and straightened up. “You're lying.”

She flashed him a mischievous grin. “Am I?”

Sometimes it felt good to beat Gabe at his own game. He pouted the rest of the ride while Lainey struggled to mask her laughter. They arrived shortly at a high-end salon in the center of town that was filled with blindingly white furniture and walls and a busy parade of staff dressed in uniforms of stark white.

As they entered, a tall, swarthy man in a white suit approached them with a welcoming smile.

“Gabe! So glad you're here, my friend.” He gave Gabe a warm hug and a couple of pretentious air-kisses. “But it's not time for your trim.”

Lainey looked at Gabe askance. “That's a hundred-dollar haircut?” she asked, referring to the pricing list at the front counter.

The man who had just greeted them harrumphed. “That is a ten-dollar job that any hack at Supercuts with a dull razor could do,” he said. “Yet he insists on coming here.”

Gabe grinned. “What can I say, I'm a simple guy. But I like the head massages that come with the haircuts here. They use this fancy oil that smells like peppermint. Plus, Niko is an old buddy of mine from high school. Can you help us out, Niko? Lainey here needs a haircut. With bangs.” He wrinkled his nose as he added that last part.

Niko looked her over and shuddered. “No bangs for you. It is bad enough that Gabe makes me debase myself with that haircut. I refuse to ruin another athlete's beautiful bone structure due to stubbornness. I do, however, have some ideas. You want to cover your scar, right? I will give you the hairstyle of a bold, powerful woman, but simple enough to suit your lifestyle.” He ran his fingers through her hair, flipping it to the side and pulling a few strands in front of her face.

Bold and powerful. The exact words she'd used to describe herself after her interlude with Gabe last night. That was how she felt about herself on the field. Why shouldn't she feel that way in the rest of her life?

Lainey let Niko guide her to a chair, where a team of workers washed her hair, massaged her scalp, and twittered over the best style. Once she was combed and ready, Niko grabbed a pair of scissors. That's when Lainey started to panic again.

She gripped the edges of her seat. “Wait! I need to be able to put my hair into a ponytail. And, please, nothing too . . . stylish.” She was going to say “weird,” after looking at the bright pink mohawk on one of the other nearby stylists, but the last thing she wanted to do was offend the people who currently held her hair hostage.

Niko waved the scissors dismissively. “Ms. Lukas, I know who you are and what you do. And while we at La Bohème Salon believe that a fairy child dies every time someone wears a ponytail, we also believe it is important to keep our customers happy. And just as I would never suggest you use your left midfielder to deliver a deep cross in the box in your first game against the Boomerangs, rather than make the runs to the corner yourself, I ask that you do not tell me how to do my job in my salon. Now, please relax and allow my genius to wash over you.”

“Niko and I played together in high school. He could have gone pro, but hair was his calling,” Gabe explained from a few feet away. “Try to remember this is supposed to be fun.”

Lainey closed her eyes and resigned herself to the experience, trying not to flinch with every snip. After a round with the blow-dryer, Niko coaxed her to open her eyes.

She gasped. Instead of her limp brown hair hanging straight down, it was parted deep on the side and framed her face perfectly. And by god, she had volume. Volume! She didn't get her bangs, but what she did get was a million times better. Along her forehead where her deep pink scar shone like a beacon, she had long, sideswept layers.

Niko's face beamed with pride in the mirror. He tousled her hair and pulled it back to show how it would fit into a ponytail. It was shorter than she was expecting, but completely functional. She couldn't be happier.