Tackling Her Heart (4 page)

Neither came and she
silently admonished herself as she recognized she wanted him to do
those things, even if it would threaten her journalistic integrity.
The minute he put a finger on her, she should back down from the
story.
Should.
She wouldn’t, even if he did, only because she was
greedy.

Not greedy for the money, or the
attention the story would get.

Sofia hungered for time with him. His
presence alone inflamed her like no one she’d ever met. The
magnetic attraction she felt was life altering and something she
couldn’t simply walk away from.

He flipped a switch, light invading
the darkness. Sofia narrowed her lids slightly to grow accustomed
and then turned to look at the room. It wasn’t just a room, but a
suite—a full living room, with a settee and two Queen Anne chairs
on either end, surrounding a marble coffee table sat nearest her.
That helped her relax a little. They’d conduct the interview here,
where it felt more appropriate.

When she lifted her gaze, she could
see into the bedroom where a large four-postered bed was turned
back and ready for whoever would slip under the luxurious covers.
Did Marc sleep naked? Would he slide into those silky looking
sheets, his skin bare, his muscled body slowly relaxing as he
drifted off to sleep?

Or were his intentions as she assumed?
Would he be drawing her into those sheets with him with the goal of
having his wicked way with her? Her pulse jumped, sweat breaking
out along the back of her neck.

Didn’t he have a house here in
Baltimore? Why the room? Did he get this simply for her? The
questions came a mile a minute, and she didn’t even know where to
begin, especially since most of them were completely
inappropriate.

“
Have a seat,” Marc said
as he found his way to the small bar. “Can I get you
something?”

“
Water,” she replied,
setting her leather satchel on the floor next to one of the chairs.
She sat, in a chair to keep her distance, and dug out her notepad
and recorder while he made himself another drink.

Marc walked over and handed her a
chilled bottle, then sat down on the settee. The furniture was
elegant, with graceful lines. It looked too delicate to hold his
large body, and she wondered if the thin legs wobbled under his
massive size.

He sat there, drinking, and regarding
her as well. What was going through his head? She’d give anything
to know what he was thinking right at that moment.

“
Where do you want to
begin?” she asked after turning on her recorder, her pen at the
ready.

Marc leaned over and turned off her
recorder. “We haven’t discussed price yet.”

What was he playing at? “What is your
price, then?”

Marc drained his glass and leaned
forward to deposit it on the coffee table. “I want a kiss for every
answer. My choice of when and where the kiss occurs, and what type
of kiss. And the questions are limited to this incident. Everything
else is off limits.”

Kisses?
He
was
toying with her. She closed her notebook and
threw it into her bag along with her recorder before standing.
“Have a nice evening, Mr. Anders.”

“
Would kissing me be so
terrible?”

She stopped midway to the door, not
able to face him. Of course kissing him wouldn’t be terrible. Sofia
had dreamed of doing it over and over again, but she wasn’t going
to be forced into subjecting herself to his whims for the sake of a
story. That wasn’t the kind of reporter she was.

“
Well, would
it?”

Sofia jumped. He had spoken right into
her ear, sneaking up close without her realizing he’d even moved.
She turned around to face him, wondering if he’d spot the lie or
not. “I don’t want to kiss you.”

“
Liar,” he said, a wicked
smile on his lips. Her gaze was attracted to those lips, wondering
what they’d feel like against her own. “You want me to kiss you
even now.”

Sofia narrowed her eyes and glared at
him. “I won’t kiss you to get a story.”

Marc stepped slightly closer, their
bodies a hairsbreadth apart. She could feel the heat of him against
her, warming her. His lips hovered inches from hers and looked so
inviting.

“
But you do want me to
kiss you.”

It was a statement of fact, not a
question. And he was right. “No, I don’t,” she declared, even as
she felt herself tilting closer to him. Her lips parted, and she
wet them nervously.

He leaned down slightly, his mouth
closing in on hers. She released a slight sigh and closed her eyes,
ready for him to kiss her senseless.

And she waited.

The kiss never came.

She opened her eyes and stared up at
him. Marc was still close, but had backed off some. He watched her
intently, observing her every emotion. Sofia felt as if he was
reading her like a book.

“
I always thought you were
the type of woman to reach out and grab what she wanted,” he said
lowly, his voice laden with innuendo.

“
I am. I haven’t let
anyone get in the way of something I wanted.”

“
You want me, but you’re
being timid right now,” he replied.

“
Timid?” Sofia the
reporter wasn’t timid. Sofia the meek girl hiding behind the
glamorous mask was. Marc couldn’t see that part of her, or he’d
win, for sure. She grabbed his head and planted a kiss on those
lips of his, and then pulled back from him. “There, was that
timid?”

The kiss had been quick, almost
chaste. She’d only done it to prove to him she wasn’t timid. What
she hadn’t realized was she’d just given him an invitation to kiss
her back. His eyes darkened, the pupils enlarging as he stared down
at her. Marc looked hungry as he gazed at her, and that hunger
spoke to her deep down.

Marc grabbed the back of her head in
one massive palm and brought her lips closer to his. When he
planted his own kiss on her, it wasn’t chaste. It wasn’t a quick
kiss to prove he wasn’t timid. The kiss he gave her was the
claiming kind, the kind that makes a woman dizzy and makes it hard
for her to breathe.

As soon as his mouth touched hers, she
knew he’d won the battle and her defenses would crumble as if
they’d not even been there. Marc swept his tongue across her bottom
lip, tasting her and urging her to open wider to him. She complied,
letting him taste the depths of her. His tongue warred with hers as
they drew closer together.

He was giving her a Kissing 101
lesson. He knew just the right pressure to give without forcing his
tongue into her mouth. And he knew just the right amount of tongue
in between aggressive nips at her lips. Any man who knew how to
kiss was perfect in her book. Attach those lips to Marc Anders and
she was done for.

Sofia could feel his stiff cock
against her belly, and she secretly thrilled at the fact he was
hard—for her. She pressed her body closer, wanting to feel more of
it, to feel him throbbing against her. Her own body pulsed, her
clit aching between her legs. Sofia wanted to reach down and touch
herself, to make the ache disappear. Instead, she dug her fingers
into his shirt and held on before she embarrassed herself with the
heights of her desire.

How many nights had she dreamed of a
moment just like this? Marc Anders had been a household name in her
native Argentina for some reason. Her countrymen preferred futbol
to American football, but there was a growing group of NFL fanatics
in her homeland thanks to satellite television and the Internet.
She’d watched a game with her brother one night, and Marc had taken
off his helmet, then looked into the camera, capturing her
attention. That night he’d spurred a crush into the
stratosphere.

Eight years later and she
was in his arms and he was kissing
her
.

Marc moved his other hand to her lower
back, drawing her ever closer to him. Molded against one another,
she fit him perfectly.

All the daydreams had never prepared
her for how good it would truly feel in his arms. She wrapped her
arms around his neck as he continued to kiss her. Marc angled them
closer to the settee, pulling them both down so she almost lay over
his huge body.

He finally pulled away from the kiss,
staring up at her. He reached into his collar and opened the top
button of his shirt, loosening his tie before he sat up straighter
to capture her mouth again. As he kissed her, he removed his sports
coat and tossed it across the room, then tugged at his tie until
it, too, disappeared.

Marc drew her jacket off, baring her
shoulders. Underneath she only wore a cami. Without her jacket, she
felt almost naked compared to him, but when his hands traveled up
and down her arms, his warmth stoked the fires of need once
more.

Sofia started unbuttoning the shirt he
wore, the need she felt for him overriding the common sense
screaming in the back of her head. She’d dreamed of having him, and
that seemed good enough reason to go through with whatever this was
between them.

A one-night stand with The
Iceman?

He sure didn’t feel cold and
emotionless at the moment. Marc had made her feel hotter than she
could ever recall feeling.

But then, this was lust, pure and
simple. There were no true feelings involved.

Could she live with that? She wasn’t
the type to jump into bed with any man she met, and she sure as
hell didn’t make a habit of fucking the sports heroes she reported
on. Confusion crept into her mind as she suddenly realized the
ramifications of what she was about to do.

Marc pressed a finger against her
clit, and conscious thought left her. He circled the nub through
the fabric of her plain cotton panties, and she wasn’t able to come
up with a rational reason for him to stop touching her. A moan
swept from her lips, and he swallowed the sound, his kisses
ensorcelling her. Sofia closed her eyes, rocking against his hand
as he coaxed more cream to weep from her folds.

“
You’re so hot,” Marc said
against her lips. “You’re burning my hand.”

Sofia shuddered, knowing it was him
that heated her so.

Marc pulled her panties away and
slipped a finger through her folds. He eased his thumb back into
place at her clit, circling the hot nub skin to skin, the contact
pushing her to extremes. Marc seemed able to play her body as if it
were his own creation. He knew exactly how to kiss her, where to
stroke, and how hard. She rode his hand, the tension building in
her body. Sofia knew her orgasm loomed, and she knew she needed the
release he could give her.

When he used his other hand to press
against her bottom, she clenched against him. The sensation was
foreign, but she was surprised how good his finger felt against the
tight puckered hole. The more he prodded her, the more pressure she
felt. He continued to rub her clit as his other hand started to
stretch her rear. The tight band of nerves relaxed enough for him
to press the tip of his finger into her, but the sensation was
strangely erotic. She felt filled in a way she’d not expected, and
her pussy clenched, jealous of the taboo touches.

Marc pressed a little deeper into her
ass, and the edge of pain sliced through the pleasure. That hint of
pain was enough to push her over the edge and she came in a rush,
her body stiffening against his urging fingers. She screamed her
release into his mouth, letting his kisses swallow her
desire.

Before she could completely come down
from her high, a knock sounded at the door. Marc frowned, but
gently rolled her to the settee and rose to his feet. He paused at
the bar to quickly wash his hand and then headed for the
door.

“
I saw you downstairs,” a
woman’s voice said before a beautiful blonde pushed her way into
the room, her gaze concentrating on Sofia. “And then I saw you come
up here.” The woman’s stare took in Sofia’s appearance.

Sofia wondered what she looked like in
that moment. Was her hair a mess, her lips kiss-swollen? Was it
obvious what they’d been doing?

The woman spun to stare at Marc. “This
is the reason you left us at dinner? Your parents are in town for
just a couple of nights and you come up here to fuck some random
woman?”

Sofia immediately stood, the shock of
the woman’s words jarring her. She grabbed her jacket and her
satchel, embarrassment flooding her.

“
Kelsie, it’s none of your
business what I do, or with whom,” Marc said firmly. “I think it’s
time you go.”

Kelsie turned a distressed
look Sofia’s way. “I can finally see why I wasn’t good enough,
Marc. I can’t compete with models, but at least
I’ve
got a brain.”

Spitfire swelled in Sofia.
“Assumptions can get you in trouble, blondie.”

Kelsie turned to glare at
Sofia. “I could make him happy. He doesn’t need a woman like
you
.”

“
Enough, Kelsie,” Marc
warned.

Sofia headed for the door. She
shouldn’t have been up there in the first place, and now she
refused to stand in the middle of whatever drama was going on right
then and there. “Good night, Marc.”