Taming the Legend (17 page)

“If you really, truly don’t want me to, Ash, I won’t. Say the word and I’ll back away right now.”

His gaze was tortured and his jaw ticked when
he finally looked at her. “I’m saying the word.”

Surprise heated her face, followed swiftly by shame. She shouldn’t have pushed him. If the conversation had been reversed… She shuddered and murmured, “I’m sorry.”

She reached for the door handle, but he stopped her. “Mila, I don’t want you to get me off in a car. At home, when we’re alone, absolutely. But not in a car outside a restaurant.”

“But you did it to me,” she said, suddenly feeling really cheap.

“I know and I—I don’t think anything I say right now will make much sense. Just give me a minute to get things under control and we can go eat.”

She did her best to hide her confusion. He was eager to get her off in the car but didn’t want reciprocation. Why not? Was he just concerned about the mess? She probably had
a box of tissues somewhere. Or did he have an aversion to public sex? She could completely understand that. Five minutes ago she would’ve said she did too. That time on the beach was her only experience of public coming.

Quiet and subdued, she reached for the handle, only for him to curse and stop her again.

“Please don’t be upset. I’m not trying to be insulting. I just want to show
you that I respect you.”

Shock rippled through her. “What?”

“Just now, I couldn’t keep my hands off you. I needed to touch you, and it seemed like you needed it too. But if you do the same for me I’ll feel… I’ll feel like I’m not showing you the respect you deserve. You deserve a bed, Mila, not a grope over a gearshift.”

She rubbed her hand over her mouth, desperately trying not
to smile. But she couldn’t help it. It was the sweetest, most unnecessary thing anyone had ever said to her. “Ash, would it be okay if I kiss you for that?”

“Not right now. How about later? You can even kiss my penis. He’ll be really grateful.”

She shoved his shoulder. “You’re such a gentleman.”

Sex with Ash. The best and stupidest decision she could make.
You are so screwed—in
both senses.

Post-orgasmic endorphins made her feel buzzed as she led him into Los Banditos, a sprawling 1930s adobe hacienda converted into a restaurant
.
The outside was beautiful in its simplicity; the inside was manic in its kitchiness. A mariachi band walked from table to table, singing loudly. Colorful donkey piñatas dangled from exposed wooden beams. Red candles with pictures of saints
burned in every window recess. And—Camila’s favorite feature—a huge mural covering one wall depicted Mexican and American flags melting into each other, with two eagles standing proudly in the middle where the flags met. She pointed it out to Ash. “My dad got some of the ex-gang members he worked with to paint that. I came up with the design idea. The brown eagle on the left is an Aztec symbol
that’s on the Mexican flag, and the bald eagle’s the American national bird. I thought it would be nice to show them coexisting peacefully.”

His brows shot up. “Really? It’s brilliant.”

Her chest filled with pride, and she tried to bat away his praise before she died of blushing. Seriously, all that blood in her cheeks couldn’t be good for her brain. “What’s England’s national bird?”

“I don’t think we have one. If we do, it’s probably some kind of tit.”

She grinned and leaned into him, probably looking like a love-stricken girl when Federico rushed over to her with his arms open wide.
“Mila preciosa! Qué alegría verte!”

“
Igualmente, tío.
I’d like you to meet my friend.
Tío,
this is Ash. Ash, this is my tío Federico, who isn’t really my uncle but should be.”

The two men shook hands, Federico shaking Ash’s a little too enthusiastically as he said, “Ash. It’s an unusual name. We have a saying in our family, though.
I need to take an Ash Trenton.
” He laughed so hard half the restaurant looked at him. “I have no idea where it comes from, but I use it all the time.”

Mila bit down hard on her lip, cringing. But Ash managed to quickly blink away
his horror. “That’s…fascinating. You can just call me Ash.”

“I will, I will. Come on, let me find you a table.” He led them to a small secluded booth behind a water feature. “I’ll leave you in peace.
Buen provecho.
”

He left them, and a young guy arrived immediately with a basket of so-fresh-they-were-still-hot tortilla chips and some salsa. Ash dug in like a starving man.

“Hungry?”
she asked.

“Ravenous. Can we order quickly?”

“Sure. What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything as long as it’s huge and used to moo.”

She ordered him a plate of two
carne asada
enchiladas with rice, black beans and guacamole. And for herself, she got one of Federico’s specialties,
nopales
—cactus in a spicy tomato sauce. While they waited, he consumed twice his body weight in
chips and salsa and talked about the team, and she tried hard not to picture him naked. But the view up his shorts this morning followed by his unexpected tackle made her eager to get even closer to his…tackle.

“The truth is, Mila, I need you to be my assistant coach.”

Her brain struggled to catch up as he continued the conversation she’d started in the car. A tortilla chip crumbled
in her grip at the thought of being around him for hours every day. “Why?”

“Because you bring things to the team that I can’t.”

“You know I have approximately zero coaching experience, right?”

“Yep.”

“And
I
know you only made me your assistant coach so you would have an excuse to stare at me all afternoon.”

“You’re right, I’m incredibly transparent. But look at what you
helped me figure out today. It was the first time they started acting as a team, and that’s down to you.”

She shook her head. “You were the one who gave the motivational talk and had them coming up with a name and motto.”

“Okay, so it was down to both of us.” He crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward to pierce her with a serious look. “We make a good team, you and me. And if
we’re to have a shot in hell of winning this thing, I really need your help.”

She sat back against the soft pleather of the booth and swallowed all her fears about getting her heart broken. Her camp was more important than her feelings. Her feelings could mend; once taken, her camp would be lost forever. She let out a deep breath and faced reality. “Okay. I’ll do it. Whatever you need.”

He grinned. “Good. First order of business. I’m thinking of making Hannah our team captain. What do you think?”

She took a bite of a beautifully greasy chip. “She seems like the most natural choice. What are you worried about?”

“I’m wondering whether it’s the right thing for her. She’s a clever kid, but she also gets her back up easily.”

“What does that mean?”

“She’s defensive.
Overly sensitive. Put that kind of person in a position of power and she’ll either temper her impulses and become a leader, or she’ll lord her powers over others and become a bully.”

She leaned forward and contemplated him. “You put a lot of thought into this already, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah. Every team needs a captain.”

“No, I mean, you thought about what kind of person makes
a good captain and how being a captain affects different people. You put a lot of thought into coaching.”

He dipped another chip and gave her a long look. “When you and I first met, I’d just finished my time at the Legends Academy. Most professional clubs have an academy to develop talented young players who’ll hopefully go on to play for them, but obviously a lot of them never make it. They
might not be good enough or might get injured. Their careers could end quite suddenly. So we all have to do vocational or academic qualifications too. I did mine in coaching, and I kept those skills up by helping out with our A team and academy players while I was on the first team.”

“That’s…really impressive. And must’ve been really time consuming.”

“Well, yeah. But I enjoyed it, so
I managed my time fairly well.”

“It couldn’t have left much time for relationships.”

One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Are you digging for information, Ms. Morales?”

“That’s Coach Morales to you.”

“I think I’ll stick with Mila.”

“No changing the subject.”

“The subject being…?”

“The loves of Ash Trenton.”

One of his brows arched teasingly. “Loves, plural?”

“Ah. I forgot. Only one love.” Rugby.

His chagrined face acknowledged the truth of it.

She picked up a chip and dipped it in the salsa. “You know, I’ve been dumped a few times, but you were the only one who dumped me for a sport.”

“It was my career, Camila. Not just a sport.”

“It
is
your career. Still. I can’t imagine you doing anything else.”

He took a deep breath.
“Neither can I. But there’s a lot of scope within the sport for different careers.”

“And is there any scope within those careers for a relationship? I’m asking on behalf of a friend, of course,” she teased, but it fell flat.

He glanced around the restaurant, and she followed his gaze. Nearly every table was occupied by couples. Candlelight flicked between them, highlighting the various
seasons of relationships. A couple of teenagers probably no older than the two of them had been when they’d met sat nervously across from each other. The boy wore a tie that he’d splashed some salsa on. The girl wore a dress and had her hair pinned up in clips with big, glittery butterflies on them. A few tables away, a tired-looking couple tried to get their fussy toddler to eat his burrito. And
not far from them sat an elderly couple, completely silent as they chewed, as if they didn’t need to speak because they both already knew what the other would say.

Ash reached across the table and started toying with her fingers in a way that made her want to sweep the chips aside and launch herself at him. “Right after I played my final match, I had this weird moment where I was carrying
the last trophy I would ever play for around the pitch, and I noticed my teammates were all surrounded by their families. Their wives, I mean. Kids. Partners. And I had this cup.”

She swallowed hard. “That sounds lonely.”

“Maybe. I never felt lonely. I had my teammates. I devoted years to winning silverware, and I’m proud of everything I achieved. But I’ve got no fucking clue what happens
next. Not in my career. Not in anything.”

“If your teammates can balance their careers and families, why couldn’t you?”

“Bloody good question. Honestly? I don’t know how well they balance everything. One of my teammates gave up his chance to play in the World Cup final because his wife went into labor. Others make the opposite decision, putting their careers first because they figure
those’ll end sooner, only to discover that that attitude leads to very short marriages.”

“Was there ever anyone you came close to sacrificing your career for?”

He regarded her seriously. “Yeah. You.”

Her face twitched, and she was pretty sure her heart tore a little.

“You twisted me up in knots. You were all I thought about. Do you know how confusing that was for a boy who
thought he knew exactly what he wanted? I’d been hardwired to win, so it was hard to stop competing—still is. It’s hard not to see everything as a goal I need to achieve.”

“Including me?”

He took another chip and didn’t answer, and she didn’t push for one because she didn’t want to hear she was just a challenge or something he didn’t even want to win. Either way, she lost.

She tried
to push those thoughts aside and focus on the man in front of her, but misgivings planted themselves in her gut. They ate and chatted about the team, and she got the feeling he wasn’t being completely honest when he told her he wasn’t worried about their chances of winning. When they left, they drove back to the camp in comfortable silence and Camila made a decision.

She wanted him. She might
not be able to have him for always and forever, but she wanted him for right now.

And she wanted him badly.

She just didn’t know how to have him without sacrificing her heart.

Chapter Sixteen

They walked down the path from the camp’s car park to the cabins. Ash still wasn’t sure which one was Mila’s, so he didn’t know if she was walking alongside him because it was also her way home or because she planned to come home with him. Something had happened at the restaurant that seemed to twist a dimmer switch in her. She’d been playful, and then they’d been
discussing his all-or-nothing tendencies and the light inside her had dimmed. She’d gone all introspective, and he didn’t know how to draw her back out.

He needed more of her. That first taste in her car wasn’t enough. His whole body thrummed with need for her, but he didn’t want to push. The thought of having sex with a woman he had to cajole into it was about as erotic as the idea of sex
with broccoli. When they arrived at his cabin, he stopped in front of his porch. “Mila, you can follow me inside if you want, but I won’t make promises I can’t keep.” He was afraid he’d already done that when he’d said he would win the sevens tournament for her. “If you come in, it’ll be because you understand what this is and what it isn’t.”

He stepped back and forced himself to shove his
fists into his jeans pockets. “Just in case you’re not planning to follow me, I’ll say goodnight now.”

She didn’t respond. Didn’t give him any indication which way she would go. He took the three steps up to his porch, unlocked his door, stepped inside and closed it behind him. Then he perched himself on the arm of his couch and waited.

Three, two
…

The door opened, and Ash released
a pent-up breath. He hadn’t been sure whether she would go stomping off into the night with her pride incinerated or into this cabin with determination burning inside her. He’d hoped for the latter, not simply because he wanted her but because he’d torched her pride once and planned never to do it again.

She closed the door softly behind her and leaned back against it. “I’m not going to fall
in love with you.”

“I’m not going to ask you to.” Love would complicate everything. They shared a pretty significant history. They could be friends. They could be lovers. But he couldn’t see a life for himself here, even if he didn’t have family obligations that meant he couldn’t stay long. He could see Camila loving life in a little English village, but not the overcrowded push-and-shove
of London. Besides, what did he have to offer her? His whole life was up in the air. He didn’t even know what he would be doing a month from now.

“The thing is, Ash, I know this is going to hurt in the end. But then I remind myself that I eat chocolate and ice cream and enchiladas and tamales, even though I know they’ll turn to fat and have bad long-term consequences. I eat them because they
make me feel temporarily good. Having sex with you will be the same. It’s going to hurt in the end, but I’ve started to think you’re worth the heartbreak.”

Oh, fuck.
He reached for her. “Come here.”

She shook her head. “I took the first step. You come to me now.”

He grinned and, two strides later, swept her into his arms. “You took the first few steps, if you count seeking me out
in London.”

“You’re right.” She stretched up in his arms, pressing her soft breasts against his chest and making the blood drop out of his brain. “I guess you’ll need to make several moves to make up for it.”

“I moved here, didn’t I?” He nuzzled her nose, her cheek, that spot under her jaw that made her squirm just…like…
that.

“Temporarily.”

“Temporarily,” he agreed. “And I
made a pretty big move in the car.”

“Actually, I don’t think you moved much at all in the car.”

“Hmm…you may be right. But it seems like I didn’t have to move much in order to really move you.”

“What can I say? With you, I’ve always been easy.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. He tightened his arms around her and nipped at her earlobe. “With me, you’ve always been adored.”

She pulled back, horror writ large across her face. “Don’t say things like that. I can’t take it.”

“I don’t know any other way to do this with you, Mila. I don’t just want you. I
like
you.”

She laid her forehead against his chest, her shoulders collapsing as if she’d just heard the worst news in the world. “If you like me, if you respect me and want what’s best for me, then keep
your feelings to yourself.” She tipped her head back, her eyes glistening with a curious mix of anger and pain that hit him like a fist to the gut. “If you want this to go any further than hugging, then listen up. I don’t want lovey-dovey words. I want dirty talk. I want your mouth to get so filthy you feel like you need mouthwash. I want you to wake up ashamed of what you’ve said to me. Because I
really,
really
want to get off with you, but I also really,
really
need to protect myself here. Understand?”

Yeah, he understood. The thought of hurting her made him feel ill. The thought of using her made him feel even worse. But maybe he could give her what she wanted and hope she came around to his way of thinking, that sex without emotion was a pale imitation of the real deal.

And
he wanted the real deal with her, even if he couldn’t make it last.

That was why he found himself backing up, perching his arse on the arm of the couch and saying, “Take off your shirt. I want to see your tits.”

She froze. “What?”

“You heard me. Tits. Out. Now.”

She glared at him. “That’s not the kind of dirty talk you used when we were younger.”

“When we were younger,
you didn’t force me to pretend I don’t like you.”

She pressed her fingertips into the corners of her eyes. “This was a really bad idea. All of it. Asking you to come here…”

He couldn’t let her regret that. Leaning forward, he hooked his finger through one of her belt loops and tugged till she stood between his knees. With him half-sitting on the arm of the couch, they were the same height.
He wrapped one arm around her back and one around her bum so he could hold her close, and he kissed her. He kissed her the way he’d wanted to for years, with nothing held back. He opened her mouth, tasted her, conquered her, let her conquer him. His hands roamed over her, gripping her bum and relearning her curves, all the dips and rises he’d explored as an inexperienced young man. Now he knew
what to do with those curves. Now he knew how to touch her.

He squeezed her bum and she moaned against his mouth, making him so hard so quickly that he groaned in return. Her hands got busy yanking apart his shirt, and he let go long enough that she could strip him to the waist. She stared at his chest, running her fingers over his shoulders, his biceps, his pecs, his abs, so lightly an involuntary
shiver rushed through him.

“Remember me?” he murmured.

“Yeah. You’re the guy I fell in love with when I was a kid. But you look different than the Ash I was used to.”

“How?”

“Bigger. I mean, you weren’t skinny back then. I remember being amazed by your body. But now you’re…wow. You would make a Greek god jealous.”

He grinned. When he’d started playing rugby, guys in his
position had to be fast. By the time he retired, he still had to be fast but the game had changed so scrum-halfs had to be powerful too. He’d spent years developing his body to do the job. Judging by the way Camila’s tongue wet her lips in anticipation, his body was doing another job too.

“You have a tattoo.”

He moved his arm so she could see better. Ink covered his upper arm in a tribal
tattoo. In the middle was a rugby ball, the word
Legends
running from end to end. And a quote curved around the ball in a script so ornate that at first glance it looked like it was part of the tribal design. In fact, he’d got the ball and quote done first, later adding the design to obscure the quote because he’d grown tired of people guessing why he’d got it. If anyone could figure it out, Camila
would.

She peered at it more closely. “‘Much wisdom is learnt through tears, but none by forgetting our lessons.’ Funny, I was thinking something similar when you shoved me back toward my cabin a few minutes ago.”

“I didn’t shove you.”

“It was a verbal shove, but it was a shove.”

He waited patiently for the words to make sense to her. She stared at them a long time, her teeth
worrying her bottom lip and her eyes narrowed in concentration. “I feel like…like I’ve heard this before.”

“You’ve read it before.”

Her brows shot up, and she gasped. “It’s from
The Squatter and the Don.
”

Finally. Some of the tension left him. Why would he have been disappointed if she hadn’t remembered?

Because you were young, dumb and obsessing over her when you got it.
The
quote had come from the book she’d been reading at the disco the first night he’d come on to her. The first night they’d lowered their guards and begun exploring each other.

“Why?”

“I read it after I left Barcelona.”

The admission revealed far more than just the fact that he’d read a book—though, admittedly, that had been a big fucking deal at the time. His mum had nearly fainted
dead away when she caught him reading not just a book but
literature,
and not just literature, but—as he’d smugly explained to her—the earliest example of Chicano literature written in English. She’d felt his forehead for a temperature and demanded to know what planet he was from and what he’d done to her son.

“Why?” she repeated.

He told her the truth. “Because I missed you.”

Her cheeks flushed dark pink, and she kept her gaze carefully trained on his tat. “And why this quote in particular?”

“Because I was worried that leaving you had been a big mistake, and I wanted a second chance.”

Her jaw clenched hard, her lips trembling with the force of how hard she smashed them together. He stroked her hips as she struggled to regain control. “Damn you, Ash Trenton.
Why can’t you make this easy for me?”

“If you want easy, you came to the wrong man. I don’t do easy. I do worth-it.”

The top button of her fitted shirt was still unbuttoned from his earlier taunt. Willing to distract her from the emotions that seemed close to overwhelming her, he fingered the button between her breasts. “Can I see how much I remember?”

She nodded, and he slowly
undid another button, revealing a hint of a sheer lavender bra. “I can already see some differences.”

“Like what?” Her voice had gone hushed as she focused all her attention on his fingers.

“Your breasts are bigger.” He slipped a hand inside her shirt and cupped one. Her nipple hardened against his palm. He rubbed it with firm circles, and she shifted, her legs pressing together as if
she were trying to ease a growing ache. “But you still like this.”

“I probably still like everything you do. Which just goes to show how stupid I am.” She kissed him, attacking his mouth as though it were enemy territory and she were on a midnight raid. Something she’d just said haunted the back of his mind, but he couldn’t remember what it was when she stroked his tongue like that and rubbed
her breast against his hand. His control shattered. Standing, he gripped her bum and lifted her off her feet. Her body pressed fully against his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him as he stumbled across the living room to his bedroom door.

He kicked the door open so hard it bounced off the wall and slammed closed behind them. He lowered both of them onto the bed. Camila
squirmed beneath him, trying to work her fingers between their bodies. Never breaking their kiss, Ash lifted his hips enough that she could unsnap his jeans. Her hand delved inside, shocking him with her directness. He shuddered at the unthinkable pleasure of her touch. “Mila…”

“Mmm.” Her hand wrapped around him, and she gave him just the right amount of squeeze. Just the right friction and
just the right motion.

Just right.

He gripped the two sides of her shirt and ripped them apart.
Ping ping
went the buttons against the floor. For a moment he worried she would get angry, but she smiled. “You did that our first time together too.”

“This feels like the first time all over again.”

Her smile faded a little, but then it grew stronger. “I know what you mean.”

He kissed his way down her body as far as he could without forcing her to let go of him. If he lost the feel of her now, he would probably die. He made it to her breasts, his body hunching over as he kneeled between her widespread legs. He reached behind her, encouraging her to arch her back so he could unhook her lacy bra. When its straps loosened, he tugged it off along with her tattered shirt.

Camila used her free hand to unbutton her own trousers, but she couldn’t get them off without letting go of him. Ash grabbed her waistband and tried to shove it down her legs, but his own knees got in the way. Frustration mounted inside him as he wrestled with her clothes, making Camila laugh.

“I don’t know why you think this is funny,” he grumbled, a bit humiliated as well as amused.

“You’re supposed to be the big stud athlete, and you can’t even get my clothes off.”

“I’m not an athlete, sweetness. I don’t do athletics. I play rugby.”

“You know what I mean.”

He gave her a mock glare. “And I don’t remember doing any drills that involved removing women’s clothes.”

“None at all?”

“Not during training, anyway.”

She let go of his cock, and he whimpered.
“Then let’s start now. You have five seconds to strip me naked. Go!”

It took him two. He whipped her trousers and lacy underpants off so quickly she blinked down at herself in disbelief. “Wow. You’ve been practicing.”

“Not really. I’m just good at meeting the goals I set myself. Goal one, get you naked. Goal two, make you scream for
Dios.
” He yanked his wallet from his trouser pocket
and tossed a condom on the bed. After getting rid of his own clothes even more quickly than he’d stripped off hers, he nudged her legs apart and kneeled between them again. All he could do was stare. And breathe, but even that took effort. The beauty of Camila naked, disheveled and spread out before him was almost more than he could take.