Playing for Hearts (78 page)

She looked away from him. For the first time since she met him, she didn't believe a word he said.

The only thing yesterday's emotional talk with Gary accomplished was to make Angie more determined to figure a way out of their predicament. She followed the team toward the locker room. They'd changed fields today, putting them at the coliseum to hand out new scrimmage and game uniforms instead of at the practice field.

John cut through the throng of players toward her. “Torville needs to be rubbed down. He's on the table in the locker room.”

“Great. I'll get right to it.” She peered ahead at the opened double doors.

The second John turned around, she swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth. Locker room? Her?

All kinds of scenarios played in her head. She looked around for Gary, wanting to share the monumental moment of her first time walking into a room of men who would soon be naked and showering and strutting and—she gulped—naked.

Then she realized Gary would also be stripped bare and heat consumed her face and quickly spread to her whole body. It wasn't Gary she needed to tell. Jules would be the one who'd celebrate her newfound privileges with her.

Head down, she walked through the doors with professional determination and straight toward the back of the room. A quick glance around told her that although she was out of the way from traffic, she had a clear view of the walk in showers with the half wall.

Lockers lined the perimeter of the room, followed by a row of benches. Off to the left were dressing room and closed bathrooms. She found Gary, stripping out of his shirt talking with one of the other players—number 74. He looked in her direction and raised his brows before glaring at her.

Uh oh. Obviously he'd never realized that having her working for the team would put her this close to him at all times. She swiveled around and put her hand on Tim Torville's back.

“Are you comfortable?” she asked.

Tim grunted, and remained flat on his stomach. She squatted and removed a bottle of oil from her bag under the table.

She stood and leaned over Tim. “This will feel cool on your skin after going through practice, but we don't want to cause any swelling in your muscles using heat products. It'll only take a moment and the pressure from my hands will warm you. Try to stay relaxed. It'll be enjoyable for you, and won't hurt your shoulder. If you feel yourself tensing, let me know and I can try something different.”

She squirted the oil in the palm of her hand, rubbing it into her skin to warm it as much as possible. She placed her hands on Tim, and he swiftly inhaled. Within seconds, Tim relaxed again and she set about doing her job.

Being the quarterback, Tim's back wasn't as broad or as muscular as Gary's. The towel covering his hips lay low enough that she could tell he also had no tan line. She leaned over and put her elbow into his upper quadrant, manipulating the muscles. In fact, he was rather pale and freckled.

Tim moaned loud. She smiled, continuing to press into his back. There was a fine line between pleasure and pain. Experience taught her the difference between a moan and a groan. He was definitely enjoying his massage.

After causing friction to his cross muscles, she used long, flowing swipes with the heel of her hand, putting the cords of his back into proper alignment. One, two, three, she moved in precise practiced control.

Tim's moans grew louder. She shifted to her side, and leaned against the table, placing both hands on his lower back. In quick, short movements, putting weight on his back, she shook him. The guttural wail echoed in the locker room.

Accustomed to the sounds clients made during their sessions, she tuned everything out. She braced herself as she vibrated up Tim's back with her hands. His whole upper body shook, causing a warble in his voice. Near his shoulders, she stepped to the edge of the table, putting all her weight on her arms, pressing onto Tim.

The skin around Tim's neck reddened, and she slowly eased out of the movement and started petrissage, a kneading action that penetrated the deep muscles and temporarily caused a client to lose control of the area. If she asked Tim to sit up, she doubted he'd be strong enough to push himself off the table—she was that good in her work.

She removed her hands and leaned close to Tim's head. “I'm all done. Just lie there for at least ten minutes. Don't tighten your muscles. Once you're ready to get up, go slow. Sometimes a session can wipe you out.”

Tim struggled to open his eyes. Without moving, he mumbled, “Thank you.”

She smiled. “You're very welcome.”

After putting her supplies away and zipping her bag, the silence in the locker room became apparent. Warmth crawled up her spine. She'd forgotten about her audience.

She turned.

Every player on the team stood around the room, staring at her, their hands clutching their towel or in midpoint of undressing. Three guys in the shower stood under the spray of water, watching her intently. She moistened her lips and headed straight to the bathroom area to wash her hands. Then she'd slip outside and leave them to…do whatever men did in a locker room.

At the washbowl, she soaped up her hands and rinsed off the suds. She peered up at the mirror and groaned. Her hair, windblown and messy, looked like she'd rolled out of bed and came straight to practice. She hadn't. In fact she'd spent an hour in the bathroom this morning hiding from Gary, contemplating how she'd woken up in his bed again because she hadn't remembered wandering across the hall in the middle of the night or crawling under the covers.

Yet she'd woken up on top of him. His fingers threaded through her hair, holding her in place, and she was more turned on than she'd ever been. In the car on the way over, she'd jumped every time he went to shift the car. All she could hear was her own breathing as the blood rushed through her veins.

She couldn't keep doing this to herself, or him. Something had to give, and the only thing she could come up with was to move out. She'd borrow money from him, and find herself an apartment when they got home. Even the Los Gatos club would be easier to face than another night spent with Gary and tormenting both of them.

Trying to find a loophole that'd allow her to be with Gary was proving impossible. He was a professional football player, and she had a posh job working for the team. They both had a lot to lose.

After drying her hands, she walked outside. The door hadn't even closed and Gary was on her. She backed up, and he planted his hands on the side of the building at the sides of her head.

She shrieked in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“Taking what's mine.” He captured her open mouth with his lips.

She gasped, losing her breath. The hardness with which he kissed her eased into softness and exploration. She fisted his shirt in her hands, and kissed him back.

The first swipe of his tongue weakened her legs. He pressed her against the wall, holding her up. His thigh thrust against her pelvic bone, sending pleasurable pressure scattering throughout her body. She moaned and deepened the kiss, wanting more.

Gary's body shifted down and back up, rubbing against her. She squirmed, pressing closer, loving the heat of his mouth. The impatience in his kiss. The excitement of him giving her everything she wanted without any thought, and—

He pulled his mouth away, staring down into her eyes. Anguish and confusion etched across his forehead. “We can't do this,” he whispered, breathing hard. “But hell if I can take seeing you touch other men when I want your hands on me, your body against me, and your mouth on mine.”

She nodded, frantic for him to understand they could and should, and she wanted and needed him.

“Not here.” He glanced around. “Someone is going to see us.”

He looked back to her. At the same time, they both said, “Home.”

She hustled along with him to the car. He squealed out of the parking lot as he drove and passed the lot attendant at the exit gate. She latched her seatbelt by the time they hit the interstate. Excitement, anxiety, lust, and impatience swirled inside of her, making her pant and clutch at his arm as he drove.

Gary had finally come to his senses. They could work their relationship out later. Right now, she was going to go home with him, and whatever happened next, she'd accept everything he gave her.

He barely pulled into the garage, and he was hitting the remote to close the door, and ushering her through the condominium. Her shirt came off in the kitchen. His shoes were kicked to the corner of the living room. She held on to him with one hand, and hopped along beside him, dragging her pants off in the hallway.

At the bedroom door, he picked her up and sailed with her to the bed, cushioning their fall, keeping his weight off her. He gazed down into her eyes. “Tell me now if you've changed your mind. There's no going back once I'm sunk deep inside of you, Ang. I'll never let you go once I have all of you.”

She warmed, stroking his cheek. “I'm begging you not to let me go.”

“Honey…” He laid his forehead against hers. “This screws up your whole life.”

She smiled, because for how much she loved her career and needed stability in her life, everything paled to how much Gary gave her by being beside her, letting her in his bed, and admitting that he had loved her longer than she even thought possible.

“The only thing you're screwing is me.” She laughed softly, wrapping her legs around his thighs. “Don't make me wait any longer.”

He nodded and kissed her quickly, before scrambling off the bed, disappearing into the bathroom and returning with a condom. She propped herself on her elbows, watching as he rolled the protection along his hard length. She inhaled a shuddering breath, wondering if she was even prepared for the size of her defensive lineman.

“It'll be fine.” He moved over her, laying her back.

She sighed, relaxing. “You read minds now, huh?”

“Only yours and I want to make sure you don't take twenty minutes chitchatting about what we're going to do.” He kissed her neck. “This is it, honey. Me and you.”

“I wasn't going to talk,” she murmured, trailing her hands up his arms and over his broad shoulders. “You won't even hear a word from me.”

He shifted lower, unclasping the clip in the front of her bra and settling his mouth around her nipple, drawing the bundle of nerves deep in his mouth. She moaned, arching off the bed.

“That feels…God, so good.” She dug her fingers in his hair.

While he concentrating on her breasts with his mouth, Gary pulled down her panties. She lifted her hips and kicked the offending material away. Bare and exposed, she trembled as a thrill went through her.

This wasn't anyone. Gary wasn't even her boyfriend. They'd never dated. Yet, she'd slept with him more often than she had any old boyfriend, and she'd told him more secrets than she told Jules. He slipped his hand between her legs, stroking her wetness, finding the spot that had her head coming off the mattress, and then falling back in delight.

She could worry about tomorrow later, but because everything they were doing and going to do felt right, she put her trust in the fact that whatever happened afterward, it'd be worth it.

“Gary,” she said, writhing underneath him. “I need you—” she gasped as heat flooded her body “—inside me.”

“Not yet.” He kissed his way over her ribs, her stomach, her mound, and dipped his head.

Shock, quickly replaced with the most wonderful caress in the world, consumed her. She clutched at the comforter as his mouth, his tongue, his lips loved her. “I c-can't believe you're doing this.”

He swiped his tongue, barely hitting her clitoris, but sending her higher. She panted. Her muscles strained, relaxed, and then spasmed in pleasure, unable to make their mind up whether to let her explode or to ground her to the moment.

“Oh, oh…” She squeezed her eyes as pleasure vibrated inside of her. “Right there. Right there. Gary…Right. There.”

He eased back, blowing warm air over her sensitive sex. She dug her heels into the bed and bounced her hips.

“Don't stop. Not now. Go back to—”

His mouthed settled on her.

“Oh, thank God,” she screamed, laughter bubbling out of her. “That feels…yes, perfect.”

A nip, lick, roll between his lips, and she had no idea what she was saying, because her body convulsed on its own. Her knees came up to her chest on their own and she leaned to the side. Too sensitive to take anymore, she lay there catching her breath.

Gary moved up her body, and smiled down at her. “Finally, I've figured out a way to make you stop talking.”

“I-I…” She inhaled deeply, melting again at the supreme confidence on his face. “I got nothing.”

“I think you have one more.” He lifted her leg to his side, and situated himself between her legs.

“Oh, God. I can't.” She peered up at him. “I've never…I'm too worn out.”

“I'm about to prove you wrong.” He slid his hand between her legs, and fingered her wetness. She quivered under his touch, her body waking from her orgasm.

“This can't be happening,” she whispered in a heavy voice.

“It's happening. You're tight, honey.” He held himself and rubbed the end of his hardness along her sex.

She lifted her hips, ready for him. “It's okay. It'll be perfect. Please.”

He lowered himself to his elbows, looked into her eyes, and whispered, “Yeah.”

Inch by inch, he stretched her. She bit her lip on a mew of urgent need, and he gave her more instantly.

“Jesus,” he said on an exhale.

She looked at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her hands shook and she lost concentration as he moved inside of her.

He held her eyes, and her sex squeezed him in response. His eyes warmed and his hips bucked. Never before had so much power built inside of her at the knowledge that he was reacting to what she could give him.