Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3) (62 page)

A smile creased his face. “How would you feel if we had?”

“That it was unmemorable, and you must be a dud.”

“I’m not a dud,” he said.

His voice carried such implicit promise, a shiver of excitement swept her. She swallowed, feeling disadvantaged with her damp curling hair, her nakedness beneath the scanty top. However, she crossed her legs, trying to match his coolness.

He abruptly leaned forward, his smile disappearing as he traced a finger over her swollen lip. “I noticed this earlier. Who hit you?”

“No one. I bumped the ground.” She tried to ignore the quiver created by his touch but felt the jolt right to the tips of her toes.

“The police? Were they rough?” His finger stilled, and his voice had an odd quality, almost scary.

“No,” she said quickly. “It was my fault. I wanted to find the boy first. They were trying to put me in the car. We…scuffled a bit. That’s when they put me in handcuffs.”

“Oh, Jess. I’m so sorry.” His finger remained on her bottom lip, his eyes darkening as he stared at her mouth. His focus was so intense she could feel his heat. And his desire.

She swayed forward.

His eyes shuttered, and he dropped his hand and leaned back. “I don’t want you stooping again. I’m sure your grandfather doesn’t either.”

Regret laced his voice, but he wasn’t looking at her anymore—in fact, he was studying his watch. She stared in dismay, certain he’d been about to kiss her. She didn’t understand his mixed signals…and then she realized. Of course. He was worried about Gramps. He’d never risk angering his most important owner. She tried not to smile; however, knowledge was a powerful thing.

She leaned back in the chair and stretched her legs, aware the meshed shirt was very revealing. And that Mark was tempted. He just needed reassurance—and a new approach. “Oh, Gramps never worries about what I’m doing. Or who I’m doing it with.” She circled her knee with a slow finger. Mark liked Thoroughbreds so he probably appreciated long legs, and she certainly had those. “I used to be a skier until I wrecked my knee,” she went on, “but he wants me to forget about that life.” She picked her words carefully as she pretended to examine her knee. “He wants me to go out with other guys…forget about my old boyfriend.”

Mark’s breath hissed as he jerked forward. “He
wants
you to forget a boyfriend?”

“Yes,” she said quickly. “He wants me to meet other guys. Have some fun while I’m at the track.”

“Fun?” Mark’s voice had thickened.

“Casual fun, casual friends,” she said, remembering all she’d heard about Mark’s aversion to anything or anyone that might distract him from work. She stopped tracing her knee when his hand stilled her fingers.

“So you’re looking for something casual, something temporary?” His voice was hot with hope and sexual hunger. “And your grandfather wants that too? You both want that?”

“That’s right,” she said. “We’re temporary kind of people.”

“Temporary is great.” He grinned then, his relief so obvious it ripped her heart, but already his hand had slipped under the bottom of her shirt. “Then maybe I can be of some assistance after all.”

He circled the sensitive skin on her inner thigh, and her misgivings scattered. It shouldn’t be that hard to rein in her feelings. She’d learned a lot from Anton. She could keep things light too. Pretend this was all part of an agenda.

She forced a jaunty chuckle. “And maybe you can help me buy Buddy.” Her voice trailed off as his hand moved higher on her thigh.

“Okay,” he said. “So this is all about Buddy. That’s good. I understand now.” It was good he understood because she couldn’t concentrate on his words, not when his wicked massage left her gasping. “But two thousand dollars is a big chunk of money,” he added.

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, not while he was doing that wonderful thing with his hand.

“A lot of money, don’t you think?” he prompted.

She was mortified her brain was stalling, mortified her breath escaped in pants. “Maybe you could just buy me a coffee then,” she managed.

His chuckled and his left hand slid around her bottom, holding her in place, while his other continued its brazen massage, between her legs now, working its magic until she writhed against his hand. “I’ll buy you all the coffee you want, honey,” he said. “I just need to know this isn’t about a horse.”

“No,” she gasped, wishing he’d unbutton his jeans and quit talking. She no longer even knew what they were talking about.

“I’d be delighted to help you forget your old boyfriend.”

“Who?” she squeaked.

But he nudged her legs wider and dipped his head. She shattered in seconds, quivering as he held her in place, riding out her waves until she collapsed, boneless against the chair.

She stared, enjoying her delicious lassitude but resenting the satisfied look on his face. Resenting how, once again, he’d so easily aroused her. “Don’t look so smug,” she said. “It’s been a year.”

He chuckled and began unbuttoning his shirt. “Must have been a helluva boyfriend. Sounds like I have a lot of work to do.”

She straightened her poor excuse for clothes and leaned back in the chair, watching as he pulled off his shirt. Clearly his exercise equipment wasn’t just for show. She liked his rippled abs, how his chest hair tapered into the waistband of his jeans, and totally understood why Trish was so reluctant to give him up.

And then he scooped her up, and she stopped thinking as he carried her into his bedroom and dumped her on his wide bed.

His belt buckle clinked. She watched the intricate play of his muscles as he yanked off his jeans. Her gaze dropped lower and she gulped. He was big—big everywhere.

“Let’s get that shirt off, honey.” His eyes darkened with primal intent as he reached down and tugged it off. “Skimpiest shirt I could find, but it’s gotta go,” he said, his breath an appealing mix of coffee and male hunger. He lowered himself over her, covering her mouth with a possessive kiss until their tongues entwined like familiar lovers.

She ran her hands over his contoured chest, savoring his hardness, enjoying the kissing. His mouth nuzzled the side of her neck as his knowing hands roamed her body, searching, feeling, caressing her intimately. Minutes later she writhed with fresh need.

He paused and reached toward the bedside table. Slid the drawer open in an obviously practiced move and removed a condom. He was back over her soon enough, using his knee to separate his legs, and she gripped his shoulders and arched against him.

He entered fast, thrusting deep, and she wrapped her legs around his thighs, abandoning herself to the hot, hard feel of good sex. Great sex, she amended as he adjusted her legs higher over his hips, driving deeper, harder. And that was all he wanted, she reminded herself, but his gaze held hers as he shuddered above her and when he kissed her, so tenderly, her arms tightened around him and she didn’t want to let go.

He rolled over, pulling her with him, silent for a moment as he pushed a strand of hair off her face. “No more stooping, okay, Jess. I’ll buy Buddy for you.”

“That’s okay,” she said quickly. “Just help me…ah, forget my ex.”

He was silent for a moment. “I would very much like to do that,” he finally said, running a possessive hand over her hips.

She kissed his chest, slick with sweat and the smell of pine soap, but his hand now palmed her right knee. She tried to wiggle away remembering how her grandfather had called it misshapen. However, he held her still, massaging the swelling. “This was the accident that made you stop skiing?”

“Yes. Last race of the year.”

“Bummer.” His fingers skimmed over the sensitive area behind her knee sending jolts to her nerve endings, and from his expression, he didn’t seem to think it was ugly at all. In fact, he touched every inch of her, watching her reaction, until she quivered under his slow touch.

She could feel he was aroused again and couldn’t understand why he lingered. She was more than ready. She tried to pull him on top, but he was so very strong and far more patient than her. She reached out and fumbled in his drawer. Found another condom and ripped it open. His breath caught when she rolled it on. She tried to go slow, shocked by her desire, but finally he pulled her on top, holding her hips as she straddled him.

He slipped a finger between them, splaying his other hand across her bottom, playing her until she gasped with pleasure and wiggled against him, desperate for release. He slowed, moving his attention to her sensitive breasts, controlling her until she gave his shoulder an impatient nip.

“In a hurry, are you.” He growled and flipped her over, hooking her knees around his hips then filled her with his thrusts. She gripped his back, their bodies rocking in perfect rhythm as waves of sensation built. She heard her single cry of release, but it was overpowered by his groan and they collapsed in a tangle.

She held his hand, their hearts beating as one. She didn’t want to let go. Didn’t ever want to leave his bed. He was silent for a long time, his other hand caressing her neck. She looked into his dark eyes, wondering if he had felt it too, an intense connection that left her speechless.

“We gotta go,” he said.

She swallowed. Even managed a careless nod.

“I’ll use the shower in the guest room,” he added. “You can have the Jacuzzi but hurry.”

“What about my clothes?” she managed, relieved her voice sounded completely normal.

“They’re ready, on top of the dryer.”

She propped up on an elbow. “But you said they were wet.”

“I lied. That bath almost killed me last night. Thought I deserved a peek.”

“I didn’t think you noticed the holes,” she muttered.

“I notice everything about you, Jess,” he said, so sweetly she didn’t feel quite as rejected, and she let him tug her from the bed and propel her down the hall.

She washed and dressed quickly, pulling her clothes on with only a faint grimace. One mustard stain marked the front of her shirt, but he’d done a capable cleaning job. Skilled at everything— unlike her, she thought with a pang.

She joined him in the kitchen. He was dressed only in jeans, hair still slick, as he whipped together two peanut butter and jam sandwiches. His muscles rippled when he reached for a plate. Ridges, he was all hard ridges. Normally she wasn’t into Rambo men, more accustomed to lean, skiing silhouettes but she liked him shirtless, liked seeing his magnificent body, and her admiring sigh leaked out.

He glanced up. “Allergic? I don’t have much salad stuff. But want something else?”

“No, peanut butter’s great. Unless you have a Mars Bar tucked away somewhere. I always like a bit of chocolate…afterwards.”

His boyish grin made her heart lurch, but he only kissed her cheek and shoved the sandwich in her hand. “Eat in the car, okay. I want to be in time for the night feed.”

“Right,” she said, washed with an inexplicable sadness. She found her bag of betting tickets and moved to the front door, nibbling on her sandwich while she waited. He reappeared, fully dressed, briefcase in hand, swallowing the last of his sandwich.

His mouth tightened when he spotted her garbage bag but he didn’t say a word, merely waited for her to step outside. Then he locked the front door and followed her to the car.

She’d tossed her bulging bag of tickets in the back and slipped into the passenger seat before she noticed the stink. “Gosh, something smells.” Wrinkling her nose, she lowered the window and sucked in the fresh outside air. Couldn’t remember his car smelling so bad.

He didn’t say a word, only lowered his own window and backed the car from the drive.

And then she realized. “Oh, the smell…that was from me?” Her voice was small, and she remembered she’d been crawling over discarded food. That she’d vomited and rolled in the mud. She must have been a mess.

She shrank against the seat, feeling small, It was amazing he hadn’t put her in a taxi last night. Even more amazing that he’d taken her home and kindly cleaned her up. “I guess I didn’t thank you enough,” she said.

“Oh yes, you did.” He reached over and gave her knee a reassuring squeeze. Suddenly she didn’t feel nearly so bad.

Traffic was heavy but steady. He drove fast, checking the time and adjusting the volume on his phone while he spoke to Dino, giving her a perfect chance to study him. She liked his hard jaw, his lean cheeks, how his thick brown hair curled at the back of his neck. The way he handled the car, his staff, the way he handled everything.

But she didn’t like it when he skirted the gate behind the clubhouse and veered down a wide road toward the paddock entrance. She fiddled with her seatbelt, her nails tapping on the metal buckle, when she realized where he was going.

A security guard rushed from the guardhouse. “Here are her credentials, sir. Sorry about the mix-up.”

“It’s not me who needs the apology.” Mark’s voice hardened, and he pointedly kept his hands on the wheel. “It was my fault too. I should have checked your call.”

The guard peered in the window, spotted Jessica and hurried around the car to the passenger’s side. “Here are your credentials, miss. We’re very sorry about the misunderstanding.” His gaze slid to the stuffed plastic bag on the rear seat then bounced back, his expression carefully blank as he returned her laminated pass.

She gave a regal nod, but neither she nor Mark spoke again as he drove to the backside and parked in his usual spot close to the office. He switched off the ignition and turned to her. “I’ve shuffled some horses,” he said. “Starting tomorrow, you’ll be rubbing a second horse, My Silent Miss.”

“Missy!” Jessica jerked in delight. “And the fun New Jersey ladies? Does that mean I’ll see them again?”

“It does. In fact they’ll be more delighted than you. People like you, Jess,” he said. “They like you a lot.”

She smiled, buoyed by his approval, then deflated. “Oh, but what about Maria? I can’t take her horse.”

“No problem. I already assigned her your grandfather’s filly. Last night, in fact. Maria can fill you in on your new horse.” His gaze settled on her mouth. “Just make sure you finish up by lunch each day. I’d like to spend time with you in the afternoons, if you’re agreeable.”