Seduced by the Game (53 page)

“I think I
misunderstood—it doesn’t matter. Would you like to have coffee with me? Or we
could go out for a beer.” He loosened his hold on her arm, but didn’t move it.
“I’ll pick you up wherever you’re staying.” His lips twitched at the edges.
“We’ll have to stop by the hotel to bring White his pillow though.”

“Naturally.” She wasn’t
sure why it made her so happy that he’d finally stepped up, but it did. She
turned to face him. “And I wouldn’t mind a beer actually. My treat if your boys
win.”

“Hell no! I’ve made enough
of a mess of this.” He lifted his hand, brushing his fingertips across her
cheek, his gaze as soft and warm as his touch. “Let me show you I can be a
gentleman.”

Dean covered a laugh with
a cough.

Madeline ignored him.
Which was so much easier now with Tim so close. All the Doms she’d been with
were sure of themselves, took control of her easily, fulfilled her needs—and
nothing more. She had a feeling Tim could give her more, which was frightening
and thrilling all at once. She hadn’t gone on a date in a very long time unless
one was to count a few meetings with potential Tops. Having a beer with a man
who clearly wasn’t trying to get in her pants as quickly as possible, who
wasn’t interested in her submission, would be a nice change.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever
met a ‘gentleman.’” Oh, that sounded lame. She rolled her eyes and laughed.
“Forget I said that. Going out for beer would be nice.”

“Nice?” Tim slid his hand
into her hair, moving forward until she was trapped between a seat and his
body. His lips were so very close to hers, close enough to feel his breath on
her flesh, his heat. “Nice sounds boring.”

She swallowed hard,
waiting for him to kiss her. Knowing if he did she was a goner. “It does.”

“I promise not to bore
you, Madeline.”

“Good.”

“I hope you enjoy the
game.” He released her hair and took her hand. Bent down to press a kiss to the
back of it. Smiled up at her when she stared at him. “The way you were looking
at me, you were about to make me into a liar. You should go before I stop
caring that this bus is about to get very crowded.”

Hell, she was going to
need a very cold shower when she got to her hotel room. She quickly gave him
her cell number and got off the bus. She knew she was blushing when a few of
the boys grinned at her.

That had to have been the
strangest way she’d ever been asked out on a date. To have had him simply come
on to her would have been simpler, made her feel sexy, but she might have
turned him down because he
wasn’t
a Dom. Somehow, he’d managed to make
her forget that she needed that dominance from a man. She wasn’t thinking about
doing a scene with him, but she did want to be near him. Wanted him to touch
her, to feel his lips on hers.

Which was so wrong,
because she knew it could never work. She’d stopped dating a long time ago
because her needs weren’t going to change. Accepting that meant she didn’t
date. The men who satisfied her needs didn’t date women like her. Her job kept
her away for too long for her to serve as a proper sub, even
if
she’d
consider delving that deeply into the lifestyle. Diving in once a month to take
off the edge was usually enough. She was happy with her life, had never
considered changing it.

And she didn’t have any
reason to start.

Chapter Two

Tim straightened his tie
as he held open the door to his rental car for Madeline outside of her hotel, arching
his brow at the small, black plastic box on top of the pillow in her arms. She
looked adorably flustered, her hair pulled back into a soft ponytail, tendrils
framing her face—which he was pleased to see was free of makeup except for a
light peach lip gloss and maybe some mascara. Her cheeks were pink, but he had
a feeling that was natural.

“I’m sorry, my mother
called about some trouble my youngest brother got into. It looks like I’m going
to be an aunt again!” She shook her head as she slid into the passenger seat.
“I completely lost track of time. Won’t take me long to finish mending the
pillow, though.”

“In the car?” He held the
box for her as she put on her seat belt. She nodded and he returned the box to
her, then closed the door and found himself grinning like an idiot as he went
around to the driver’s side. By the time he pulled the car out onto the road,
she had a needle threaded and was making precise stitches that almost
disappeared into the material.

Her focus on the task, the
comfortable silence between them, had him taking the opportunity of every red
light to just look at her. She was a refreshing change from the young women who
hung around the team—those girls did nothing for him. The laugh lines around
her lips, the sparkle in eyes that had seen the world, made her absolutely
beautiful. This was a woman who’d lived, who knew what she wanted and wouldn’t
be shy about telling him what that was.

Part of him still wondered
if she wasn’t better suited to his brother, but Tim wouldn’t let old insecurities
ruin a good night. His boys had won the game in overtime. Callahan was proving
to be the ideal captain after only a few months in the position, his talent and
natural leadership skills providing the team with all the direction they
needed. White had dropped the gloves—big surprise there—when an overeager
forward from the Panthers crashed the net. The fight had ended with White
spitting blood and holding two teeth in his hand, but he’d won and earned the
respect of his teammates. Not that most hadn’t respected him before, but they’d
seen him as more of a hothead than anything. It was hard to stand behind a
player who had a hair-trigger and got penalties for losing his cool. A man who
made the other team think twice about targeting your star players? He was
invaluable.

“Done!” Madeline put away
the needle and ran her hand over the pillowcase as they pulled up in front of
the hotel. “Would you give White a shout so he can come meet us? Then we can go
have that beer. Did you have a particular place you’d like to go or would the
hotel bar do?”

“If we stay here, the boys
will likely join us. So it depends on how much time you’d like to spend with my
entire team.” He got out of the car, handed the valet his keys, and texted
White as he joined Madeline on the sidewalk. “There’s a bar within walking
distance with a live band that plays rock classics. I usually go there every
time I’m in Miami, but it’s not the type of place the guys like to hang out.”

“Sounds nice.” She shot
him a playful look when he raised his brows at her. “And no, I don’t mean
boring. Do they serve any good imports or just weak local brews?”

This woman is something
else.
He
laughed and put his hand on the small of her back as he opened the front door
to the hotel for her. “They have some pretty incredible local brews. If by
local, you mean American?”

“That’s exactly what I
mean.”

“What makes you think only
foreign beers are good? I’ll assume you’re not saying that just to sound like
you know what you’re talking about?”

Her eyes widened, but she
didn’t seem upset by his comment. Instead, challenge lit her eyes. “I’ve been
all over the world, spent a month touring Europe in my early twenties,
determined to expose my palate to more than the moonshine my daddy let me try
when I turned nineteen.”

“Nineteen? You were a good
girl then?” He could picture her as a teen, long skirts and modest shirts, so
polite and proper while under her parents’ roof. Then running wild as soon as
she got the first taste of freedom. She’d have broken his heart if he’d met her
back then.

The sweet smile she gave
him had him wondering if his heart was safe, even now. She laughed, the sound
full of light and warmth, pulling him in as she faced him in the center of the
lobby. “Are you implying I’m not a good girl anymore, Tim?”

“I wouldn’t be with you if
you were a ‘girl’ anymore, Madeline.” He could tell she liked his pointing that
out. Many women didn’t want to be reminded they were no longer young, but he
had a feeling she was confident with who she was. Which was sexy as hell. “But
about your refined palate, I’d like the chance to prove to you that some
domestic brews are just as good, if not better, than anything you’ve had
overseas.”

“You’ll have it.”

They chatted a bit more
about beer, and about her travels, before they both realized White was taking
way too long coming down from his room. Tim checked his phone to see if the boy
had texted him back. The message he’d sent wasn’t marked as read.

Had White fallen asleep?

All the rookies roomed
with a veteran player. Tim would have liked White to have roomed with Perron or
Mason—the latter could have helped the kid pick his fights a bit better from
the start—but the head coach had paired him up with Mirek Brends, a Swedish
defenseman who didn’t speak much English. Which made calling Brends to check on
White pointless. He considered calling Callahan, but the team’s captain had
probably gone out to celebrate with a few of the guys.

“Maybe White’s not here?”
Madeline seemed to read his thoughts, but concern shadowed her eyes. She’d
decided White needed her to look out for him.

The kid clearly needed
someone
to do it. Tim wouldn’t have left him alone if he hadn’t been cleared by the
team’s doctor, but White had said he’d be in his room watching TV because he
wasn’t feeling up to going out. He wasn’t impulsive, so Tim didn’t see him
changing his mind.

He
did
see him
putting on a brave front for the doctor and the team though. Tim didn’t want to
second-guess the doctor, but he couldn’t help worrying a little. He glanced
over at Madeline when she cleared her throat to get his attention.

“He wasn’t feeling up to
going out. He got in a fight and was a bit roughed up.” Tim braced himself for
her to give him hell. One of the things he’d liked most about her was that she
cared about the boy, but that could be the very thing that ruined his chances
with her. He scratched his jaw when she simply looked at him expectantly. “I’m
sorry to delay our date, but I want to go check on him.”

She inclined her head. “I
thought you would. Should I wait here?”

Now that impressed him.
With how motherly she’d been to White, Tim had assumed she’d insist on tagging
along. That she trusted him to decide what was best made him a lot more
comfortable than her not giving him a choice. He motioned for her to follow
him.

“I think he’ll be happy to
see you.” He chuckled as he pressed the button to call the elevator. “And his
pillow.”

“Probably.” She went quiet
as they got on the elevator, her expression thoughtful. After a few minutes,
she met his eyes. “Why did you look so surprised when I offered to wait?”

Tim shrugged, seeing no
reason not to be up-front. “You’ve been babying him. I honestly thought you’d
plow me down on your way up to make sure he doesn’t need a Band-Aid.”

“Ha! I did mention I have
younger brothers?” She smirked at his nod. “I’d have a head full of gray hair
if I panicked every time one of them got hurt. I’m sure he’s a mess, but he’s a
big boy. And you’re his coach—”

“Assistant coach.” He
corrected her out of habit, but he had a feeling she hadn’t said that by
mistake. Some of the men considered Tim their coach and saw Paul as more of a
figurehead. White was one of them.

“His coach,” Madeline
repeated, clearly feeling the same. “You’d know if he’ll be comfortable with me
being around.”

“I’m positive he’ll be
fine with it.”

“Good.”

The elevator stopped and
Tim let Madeline get off first, but stopped her partway down the hall with his
hand on her arm, his tone very serious even though he struggled not to laugh.
“I don’t need you making my boys soft though, so no kissing all his little
bumps and bruises better.”

“Agreed. No kisses.” She
took his hand and rose up on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to his in a slow,
sensual kiss that had him wanting to continue down the hall, past White’s room
and straight to his own. He ran his hand over her hair, inhaling slowly as she
put a breath of distance between them, speaking with quiet laughter in her
voice. “I’ll save the kisses for you, but I can’t promise not to pet on him a
little.”

He snorted and knocked on
the door to White’s room. “Fine, but you’re not tucking him in.”

“May I sing him to sleep?”

White didn’t answer. Tim
tested the doorknob. Found the door unlocked.

“Yeah. Sing to him if you
want.” Tim swallowed hard as he pushed the door open. The room was dark except
for the flickering of the TV. “Hey, White? You in here?”

Shit, what if the kid
did
have a concussion? Blood on his fucking brain and he was alone, had maybe
fallen asleep and—

“Ian?” Madeline reached
out and squeezed Tim’s hand as she called out. She crossed the short hall with
the door that led to the bathroom. Moved into the bedroom. “Hello, darlin’. Oh,
that looks like it hurts. No, don’t sit up. Tim, can you go fetch some ice?”