Game Plan (30 page)

She certainly wasn’t going to argue that offer.

Half an hour later, he knocked on her front door. “The backseat’s not bad, but if you give me the key, I’ll drive over to the carwash and give it a shampoo.” The empty bucket and a small, tied garbage bag sat off to the side. His gray uniform pants had puke spots in two places she could see. He probably had some on his top too—now fully buttoned—but it was forgivingly black.

“You don’t have to do that.”

His hands rested on either side of the door, framing the most incredible man to barge into her life. And run back out of it at the first sign of conflict.

“I’m responsible for the mess. I want to make things right,” he said, eyes locked with hers.

Damn him, reading her mind again. “Oh, just get in here.” She sighed and stepped aside. In her heart, she’d already taken him back. She might as well let him in the house. “Go up to my bathroom and get out of those clothes.” He raised his eyebrows and smiled. She did a little eye roll in return. “No, we’re not having make-up sex yet. You still have some stuff here, it’s in the drawer.” Instead of heading for the stairs, he stood in front of her, his grin bigger than seconds before. “What?”

“You said
yet
.”

He’d caught her little slip. Okay, so it wasn’t a slip so much as a hint. Still, he didn’t have to stand there looking all revved-up with testosterone. Because even sporting random vomit stains, Mason was borderline irresistible.

She jutted one hip to the side and planted a hand on it. “And now you want to know how long you’ll have to wait for it?”

“I’m not gonna lie and say I haven’t been missing having sex with you.” The space between them got smaller. “But this smile on my face, it’s purely because you’re considering taking my sorry ass back.”

“Well, it’s a very fine ass…plus, I am in the market for a veterinarian who gives deep discounts and makes house calls.” She popped the top buttons of his shirt and pressed her hand to his chest. Instant butterfly assault in her stomach. Instant flip-flop to her heart. Instant heat wave in all her best parts. “At some point this evening, I’m going to want the dessert you promised, so go clean up.”

* * * * *

A bag of his stuff was in the bottom drawer of her vanity, like she’d said. A pair of boxers, gym shorts, a t-shirt, mismatched socks in a loose ball, the toothbrush he’d liberated from her stash of extras the first time he’d slept over. And what the fuck? A whack of condoms.

Quietly, he crossed from the en suite bathroom to her bedside table. Opened the drawer where she kept their supply of protection. None there. She hadn’t planned to use
their
condoms with another man. Damn if that didn’t make his chest puff out.

Her soft voice filtered in from the bedroom while he was brushing his teeth. “Can I come in and grab your dirty laundry?”

“Sure,” he called around the toothbrush and mouthful of minty paste. He spit, adding, “I mean no.” Too late, she was already in the bathroom, cheeks on fire, wide eyes blinking twice as fast as normal.

“Um…your clothes are…?”

“Yeah, I’m not letting you wash my stuff.”

She cleared her throat. “How about putting the clean ones on.”

If he stayed naked, she’d either leave or they’d make up a whole lot quicker. “You’re unbelievably cute in this.” He tugged at her ball cap. Let his eyes roam over her sporty
little
outfit. All that nicely toned leg showing…he wanted to drop to his knees and lick her from ankle to ankle—the long and slow way. “And sexy.”

The gamble paid off when she didn’t walk out the door. Just the opposite, her eyes did some roving of their own. They landed on his cock and she made a noise somewhere between a squeak and a groan. His cock took the sound as a compliment and stood straighter. Not that it needed extra encouragement when she was around. For now, though, he grabbed the boxers, stepped in and snapped the elastic into place above the straining hard-on.

“From the first time you hit on me, I knew I had to get you on a date.”

Her eyes shot up to his face. “I didn’t hit on you.
You
hit
me
with a ball. On purpose!”

“Which you followed up by complimenting my chest. Pretty bold thing to say to a total stranger. Definitely a come on.”

“You’re calling
me
bold? The first line out of your mouth was about virgins and lap dancers.
That
was bold. I almost laid into you for that comment.”

He scooped her hands from her hips. Placed them palms down on his chest and started walking her backward out of the bathroom. “But you went with hitting on me instead.”

“It’s amazing your head fit through that doorway.”

He steered them around the bed, smiling when her mouth turned down at the corners. Yeah, he wanted to go there too. Wasn’t quite time for it yet. He guided her onto the cushioned bench in the bay window. Held her hands on his body as he lowered to his knees.

“I’ve thought about meeting you at that ballpark every day since it happened. At first because it was damn hot, and I wondered how I managed to get so fucking lucky that night.” Her cheeks turned pretty pink. He smiled and nudged her thighs wider, shuffling forward until all that separated them was a few scraps of clothing and his wavering willpower. “The luck kept on coming, because you agreed to see me again, and then again. Being with you is natural and easy. But it’s also this incredible rush. I’ve never had this with another person.”

“For me too.” Her hands slid from his shoulders to the back of his neck, where they toyed with his hair. A piece of heaven he’d been missing.

Her face was close. It’d be so easy to kiss her right now. Skip straight to the making up and moving on. The only way to resist was to pull back, which he did with some difficulty.

“I don’t know exactly when it happened, but I started thinking about the day we met and imagining telling the story to our family. At our wedding. To our kids, grandkids.”

“Mason…”

“I told you how I felt and what I wanted, more than once, but you never told me.”

“Mason, I—”

He brushed his thumb over her lips to stop her. “And I turned into an idiot because of it. I stupidly bought into other people’s shit. I let it feed my doubts. So I bailed, and I did it prick-style, because I knew I’d never be able to let you go if I had to see your face or hear your voice. I was a coward and a fool.”

“Don’t forget dickwad.”

“Yeah, definitely that.”

Scott had offered to come clean with Mason. She’d been
this close
to saying yes. Part of her had wanted Scott to suffer for the rift he’d caused—and going to Mason, tail between his legs to confess, would’ve pummeled Scott’s high-and-mighty attitude. In the end, she’d made Scott promise
not
to set things straight. If it’d been that easy to scare Mason off, she didn’t want him back. No matter how badly she wanted him back.

Now here he was, on his knees, begging for another chance. Even though nothing had changed. Or had it? “Did Scott talk to you again?” His muscles tensed at the question. “Yes, I know about his visit to your office. He admitted everything last weekend…after we saw you at the restaurant. I need to know if…if you’ve heard from him since then.”

“No.” His jaw clenched. “He said enough the first time.”

That he had. Enough to make Mason bolt. She almost didn’t blame Mason—Scott won big legal cases because he was unbelievably convincing. And she hadn’t exactly given Mason reason to think Scott was wrong.

She wanted to grab him. Bury her face in his chest and tell him everything. But she needed to be sure before throwing the doors to her heart wide open. Again.

“Why now? Nothing’s changed since the day you hid in your office and stopped answering my calls.” The day he shattered her fragile dreams.

“Yeah, it has. I opened my eyes.” He cupped her face in his hands. “You love me, or you did. You showed me every day. All the little things, the big things, the trust you gave me… I don’t need the words, babe, I just need you.”

A lump caught in her throat. He got it. He got
her
. “What about the other stuff?” She chose her words carefully. “I know what Scott told you about the miscarriages…and I know you want a family someday. What if I’m incapable of that?”

“You could’ve told me. Those times I wasn’t careful…shit.” He shook his head. “Truth is, I think part of me wanted you to get pregnant. To give you a big reason to commit to us when I wasn’t sure you would otherwise. But I swear, I will never selfishly put you at risk again.”

Not telling him was killing her. “It’s sweet that you want to protect me, but that doesn’t answer the question.”

His thumb swept over her cheek to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I want a family.”

A different door to her heart opened. The trapdoor.

“I’m jumping the gun, or guns, I guess, but I’d be a great stepdad.”

Oh god…he wanted that—to be Dylan’s stepfather? “You’d be an amazing stepdad, but would that be enough?” Every second that he didn’t answer, her stomach twisted tighter.

“Maybe.” His hands fell to his sides. “I don’t know.”

She blinked hard to force the damn tears back again. Sometimes honesty really sucked.

“What about you? Do you still wish you had more children?”

She couldn’t blame him for fishing. They should’ve had this conversation another time, and under better circumstances. Too late for that.

“There was a point when I didn’t think motherhood was in the cards for me at all. I’m grateful to have Dylan. After he was born, I accepted that he’d be my only child. I made myself stop wishing for more. Then you came along and kick-started my hormones.” She pasted on a halfhearted smile. “Thanks a lot for that. I’m probably going to turn into one of those cat ladies in an attempt to satisfy my maternal urges.”

“There’s adoption.”

“That’s what I had in mind.”

“You did?”

“Of course. Look at Hugo, he’s a great cat—when he’s not eating my casseroles, that is.”

“You’re talking about adopting cats.”

“Can’t become a cat lady without cats. And the shelters are always full of them, so—”

He cut her off with an unexpected burst of laughter. “I was talking about kids.”

“What?”

The smile that’d accompanied his laughter changed into one much deeper, sweeter. “We could adopt. Or foster. Kids, not cats. But I’m good with having a houseful of those too.”

“We?”

“Yeah, I know, jumping the gun again. You haven’t even agreed to take me back.”

“Yet.” Heaven help her, she was smiling too. Ear-to-ear.

“Sounds like the odds are in my favor.”

“And mine.” She placed a hand on his chest and traced his tattoo. The outline, the tiny details on the Franciscan cross. She had the design memorized, she’d looked at it so many times, but at this moment, it kept her eyes off his face.

“Hey,” he tipped her chin up, “tell me.”

He read her so easily. Would another man be able to, if things with Mason flopped? In all the years with Scott, he’d never been as tuned in to her as Mason was after only a few weeks.

“I want us to work out…so much…but I’m scared.”

“That I’ll fuck up again? I probably will.”

“Way to give a girl hope.” Her view of his grin was brief, because he tilted his head and moved in. Finally. His soft lips took control. Strong hands moved over her back. Lower, to the hem of her t-shirt, which he peeled up in a smooth, sexy motion. She slid one hand into his boxers and circled a deliciously sturdy erection. “Now this is hopeful.”

“Nah. That’s a sure thing.”

“Satisfaction guaranteed or what, my money back?”

“Or I keep doing it until you’re fully satisfied.” The button on her shorts opened under his dexterous fingers, followed by the zipper. He lifted her ass enough to wiggle them, and her thong, down and away. The lacy black bra followed. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He palmed her breasts, thumbed his fingers over the nipples, turning them into tingling bullets. Warm breath fanned her skin as he grazed the tips. “I’ve missed these.”

“Not as much as they’ve missed you. I’m not too shabby in the flexibility department, but I’ve never been able to get them to my mouth.”

He blinked up at her. “You’ve tried?”

“Of course I’ve tried.”

“Lemme see.”

She cupped the left one. Cracked her neck side-to-side, rolled her shoulder back and stretched, tongue straining and extended. And…not even close. “Sexy, right?”

Mason erupted. Huge grin, clutching his abdomen, he full-out laughed his ass off.

And it didn’t bother her one bit. In its own bizarre way, it was nice.

“Give me that,” he said after collecting himself and resuming his position. He took soft possession of her breast, sucking the deprived nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. Nipping with exactly the right amount of pressure to send a jolt of need between her legs.

“Mason?”

“Yeah?”

“I hope you don’t fuck up again.”

He gave her one of his best smiles, the swoon-worthy, sexy-sweet combo. “Yeah, me too.”

Her heart tried to lurch from her chest. This was it. Love, with all its perks and difficulties. He wanted it—and so did she.

He dragged her legs over his shoulders. The smile changed again, to one much more predatory. The sight of it sent shivers through her body. He began stroking, featherlight and borderline tickly. Up and down her slit. A little dip here, a quick circle there. Never enough. She wiggled and shifted. He countered, not giving her what she wanted.

“Mason…please.”

“Please what?”

“I want my dessert.”

“Greedy girl.”

“Needy.”

“I like that combo,” he said, disappearing to the south.

Her hips bucked upward at the first press of his tongue to her clit. She’d gone years without oral sex and managed fine. A couple of weeks without Mason’s face between her legs and she was in complete withdrawal. Desperate to come under his mouth.

She leaned back to rest on her elbows. Better for watching the movement of his head as it bobbed up and down, side to side. His eyes flickered open and caught hers. Naughty and sweet at the same time. With one hand, she reached down, threaded her fingers into the thick softness of his hair. Urged him tighter against her body. The growl vibrated against her clit, pitching her closer to the edge. Too soon, too soon, but oh—