Playing for Hearts (105 page)

He tossed her the clothes she'd had on before they had sex. She thrust her arms into her shirt and leaned back to shove her legs in her shorts. When she had them over her hips she stood and zipped them up. “Are you kidding me?”

“Serious, sweetheart. I'm not wasting any more time.” He looked at her. “You have a problem with that?”

Drunk with happiness, she smiled. “Nope. I'm good with getting married.”

“Great.” He leaned over and kissed her. “We're going to have a great life together.”

“Yeah,” she said, bursting with love for the only man who could sweep her off her feet and make damn sure she was along for the ride.

Bruce started the boat motor and the movement took her back down. She caught herself on the seat and watched Bruce guide the boat, going faster than she knew was legal on the lake, and smiled. She was getting married, and she couldn't be happier.

The makeshift chapel in the House of Elvis played “Blue Suede Shoes” on a CD that sounded worse than the three guys singing in harmony on the Vegas sidewalk when they'd arrived an hour ago. Crista grinned at Bruce, not caring that none of their friends were here to witness their marriage. The only thing she needed was him, the marriage certificate—which she held in her hand—land the two hundred dollar ring they'd bought in the gift shop, along with an “I Had Sex in Vegas” T-shirt she'd pulled over her tank to wear on her wedding day.

Bruce's mouth softened. “Looking pretty hot, Mrs. Coldwell.”

“So are you, Mr. Coldwell,” she said.

He was in sneakers, surfer shorts, and a plain white T-shirt with a small logo of a mysterious fishing company over the left part of his chest. They'd both agreed that they weren't the type of people to dress up for twenty minutes when they both had plans to run back to their room and get naked.

“You know, they have a room we can rent behind the stage by the hour.” He winked.

She nudged him with her arm. “Not on your life. I'm not having sex for the first time after tying the knot in a place where Elvis is probably videotaping the sacred union for an extra thirty-five dollars.”

Bruce pulled her into his side. “Then let's go, sweetheart. We've got a honeymoon to start and we've got four days to wear ourselves out.”

They walked the block back to the hotel, Crista holding his hand and practically floating in her sneakers. At the electronic doors, Bruce swept her up into his arms. She squealed. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you over the threshold,” he said, stepping into the building.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kicked her feet in amusement. “I think you could've waited until we got up to the fifth floor.”

“Nope. If I'm going to play, I'm playing big.” He marched through the lobby to the catcalls of the other guests. “This will be a day we'll remember for the rest of our lives.”

He was creating memories. Crazy, unforgettable memories and letting her experience a side of life she'd never had time to explore. Her life since falling in love-love with Bruce consisted of chaos and surprises. She had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but none of that mattered because she was exactly where she wanted to be.

A gentleman from the hotel held the elevator door open for them. She smiled her thanks from her perch in Bruce's arms. The ride upstairs took no time, and then the next thing she knew, she was flat on her back on the bed and Bruce was stripping off his clothes. Not to be outdone, she took off her new shirt, her bra, her shorts, and panties, and was retrieving a condom out of the bedside drawer when the mattress dipped from Bruce's weight when he joined her on the bed.

He had her underneath him as soon as she'd ripped open the package. She palmed him, finding him hard and wanting. With a practiced hand, she put the protection on his erection in record time. He fisted her hair and positioned her head. The forbidden pain on her scalp delighted her. She loved sex rough and hard as much as she liked to make love slow and gentle. With Bruce, he gave her everything to meet her needs.

His mouth came down on hers. She was right where she wanted to be. There was no thought to protest or to change positions because she wanted him there, pressing down on her, his hand holding her, and his mouth on her lips.

She opened her mouth and his tongue slipped inside. Her body melted as he stroked her. She curved her hand around his neck, holding him there, kissing him back, giving and taking. She no longer thought about what they were doing and who she was with. Everything was perfect.

She kissed him greedily. Without delay, he leaned against her. Her breath came fast, already turned on. The moment he'd said
I do
, she wanted him again. She scratched at his shoulders and arched her hips off the bed, eliciting a growl from Bruce. A tremor went through her sex, spiraling in her lower belly. God, he was sexy.

Half wild, half tamed, and fully skilled in bed, he knew exactly what made her wet for him.

He moved to the left, putting his hand over her breast. She pressed into his hold, loving the way her body tingled for him. His fingers pinched, twisted. It was rough, but dazzling. She was not a weak woman. She trained hard and she was strong, but Bruce made her feel feminine and loved with his demands. Her hips rose in an impulsive demand.

“Honey,” she whispered, needing him inside of her. She moved her hand from his hair to his shoulder and down his arm, searching for his hand. “Please.”

He entwined their fingers, pressing her into the mattress. His mouth found her lips again. She moaned against his tongue, bucking her hips.

He didn't hesitate. His cock pressed against her sex. The ache deep inside of her grew, and she wanted every inch of him, body and soul.

“Beautiful.” He groaned and drove in deep.

She gasped and held her breath until she grew lightheaded from the power of their bodies joined together. When she exhaled, he moved, filling her again and again, rough, hard, almost impatient. She panted. Her body was spiraling, tightening, reaching.

Her hand squeezed his fingers and she wrapped her legs around his hips, digging her heels into his ass to leverage her hips. “Yes.”

Pleasure built fast, and she could feel her orgasm coming. She was burning up and yet chills rolled over the surface of her skin. He touched a part of her that she'd never known existed until him. A primal need to be loved that only he could validate, and make her believe he worshiped her.

He kissed her again. Her body clenched, and she tore her mouth from his, arched her neck, her back, and let out a hoarse, breathy moan. “Bruce.”

Bruce's hips sped up. In. Out. In. Out.

That's when pleasure hit her. The intensity of the first spasm shook her body and she tightened her limbs around him, pulling him closer.

He thrust while she came in the most powerful and unequivocal shower of awesomeness. As she came down from her high, his thrusts became even stronger. He once again sank his hand into her hair and captured her mouth. She tightened her legs and he groaned, his hips drove into her once, twice, and then he planted himself all the way inside her and stopped.

His mouth slid from hers, down her chin, and to her neck, where he buried his face against her skin and shuddered his release. She lay underneath him, taking his weight, and holding him.

He rolled off her, taking her with him. She trailed her fingers over his damp shoulder before wrapping her arms around him and felt her love for him grow. She had a feeling they were just at the tip of discovering each other, even though they'd been best friends for so many years.

“I love-love you, sweetheart,” he said.

She smiled at him, wanting to tell him how much he meant to her, but he already knew. So, she said simply, “I love-love you, too, honey.”

Four days later in Cottage Grove, California.

In Grayson and Shauna's living room, Crista reached out and snagged Bruce's hand. She held on to him as her friends gave her the evil eye. No matter how many times they yelled at her for leaving them out of their plans and not inviting them all to the wedding, she wouldn't change one thing about her and Bruce's impulsive trip to Las Vegas prior to coming to Cottage Grove.

“Because you ripped us off on celebrating your wedding, I'm going to have to throw you a huge party.” Shauna pulled out her phone and tapped the screen. “How about the last day of the month? It's a Saturday. Everyone can stay here at the house, and whoever doesn't fit can room over at Diana's bed and breakfast.”

Crista squeezed Bruce's hand and shook her head. “That won't work. We're heading home to Bruce's house in Oregon—”

“Yes. I get them.” Dana clapped.

Bruce's house was nowhere near Dana and Juan's chalet by Mt. Hood, but the two-hour trip was short enough from the coast; they were practically neighbors in the same state. Crista smiled at her friend. She'd find some excuse to stay in contact now that she was married.

“We don't want to push it into November because Dominic won't be able to get away. That also means Diana will be with Dominic, and … ” Shauna scrolled through her calendar. “We'll do October.”

“Actually, we can't do it then, either.” Crista inhaled and straightened her shoulders. “I've got the Ironman. It'll be my last one, and I'll be announcing my retirement after I cross the finish line.”

Everyone at the Schyler house quieted. Bruce dropped her hand and put his arm around her. She leaned against him. The news shocked everyone, but she wanted her friends to hear first.

“I've been planning this decision for a long time. Quitting this year has nothing to do with Bruce and me falling in love and marrying,” she said. “Thanks to Juan—” she smiled around Bruce at Juan “—and his connections, I've been hired on to train the triathlons on the U.S. Olympic team.”

Cheers of congratulations deafened her and she accepted hugs from Dana, Shauna, Diana, Angie, and a very pregnant Kate who'd brought her husband, Jackson, to the get together. Gary was the first of the guys to approach her.

Crista held out her arms, needing one thing from Gary to know he understood. “If you don't do it, I'll know you disapprove of my decision.”

Gary stepped toward her, wrapped his arms around her, and lifted her high in the air in one of his famous bear hugs. She squeaked, gasping for breath, but her hands pressed in on his back, returning the hug. These were her friends, and she was glad that they'd continue being in her and Bruce's life.

After Gary set her on her feet, Grayson kissed her cheek and mumbled congratulations. Juan shook her hand, pulling her in for a one arm hug that had her swaying to keep her balance. Finally, Dominic clapped his broad hands on her shoulders and peered down at her.

“Proud of you,” he said, in a Russian accent so thick with emotion, she swallowed hard.

“Thanks, Dom,” she said, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I'm proud of you, too.”

He nodded without a flicker of a smile and said, “Of course you are.”

She slugged his arm and laughed. His ego, bigger than anything his broad shoulders could carry, was a welcome reminder of her life. She was still one of them, the group of misfit athletes … but different, maybe better because now she love-loved one of the men in the group.

“Okay, that's it. Scratch the marriage celebration; we'll have a party whenever we can all get together again and call it good.” Shauna lunged and scooped up a running Trevor. “What have you been in?”

Trevor's toothy grin showed through a face covered in chocolate. Crista bit her lip to keep from laughing because Grayson's eyes darted to Gary who looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. Earlier, she'd seen Gary set a bag of Dove's chocolate on the table and she suspected little Trevor had found the mother lode of candy.

Grayson walked over to his family. “I'll take him upstairs and clean him up.”

“That's okay, I'll take him, and you can visit with your friends,” Shauna said.

“Yeah, well, my friends are all big boys, and they'd understand that I want you upstairs, alone.” Grayson turned Shauna around and guided her up the stairs with his hands on her hips amid a chorus of catcalls.

Crista's chest warmed. If Grayson and Shauna weren't fighting, they were having sex. She laid her head on Bruce's chest. Now that she thought of it, she hadn't seen them fight since six months ago when Shauna decided to dance on the table at Girl's Night Out. Not that it was strictly the girls anymore. Every one of the men came, too.

“So training, huh?” Juan leaned against the end of the couch, pulled Dana back into the V of his legs, and wrapped his arms around her stomach. “Won't you miss winning?”

“Honestly, I don't think so.” She glanced up at Bruce. “At the last two Ironman events, the high never came the way it did at the beginning. Once I was done, it was more about what I could do to improve my technique and how to condition better. I've found that I get more enjoyment from the training aspect of it all and teaching others so they can reach their goals. I'm also getting old, and training hours each day is pushing me too hard.”

Dominic coughed. “Twenty-six years old. Ancient.”

“Twenty-seven.” She looked at the other women in the room. “I'm the oldest female here, and look what each of them has done with her life. They're all married, business owners, event planners, a mother. I've only trained. It's—”

“It's Crista's time to enjoy life, have a family, and maybe if we're lucky, we can add another rug rat to the group to keep Trevor from being too spoiled.” Bruce grinned and Crista swore his chest grew broader.

“I would like a family,” she said softly.

Gary nodded. “What did your parents think of you getting hitched in Vegas?”

“Oh, you know, they were happy for me.” Crista shrugged. “They told us to stop by sometime when we're in Idaho.”