The Matchmaker's Playbook (19 page)

“Not all men,” I answered truthfully. “At least not about something like that.”

The restaurant was just coming into view. It was a local favorite, something you had to experience at least once if you were in Seattle, but because she’d just moved here, I assumed she hadn’t had a chance to go.

“Look!” She pointed as someone from the dock waved at us. I quickly steered us into the spot while one of the employees grabbed the canoe and tied it up.

“Mr. Hunter, right on time.” He held out his hand to Blake, helping her onto the dock. “We have you seated outside. The heaters have been placed near your table so your date shouldn’t get cold, though we do have blankets to offer you if it gets too chilly.”

“Fantastic.” I slipped him a twenty, patted him on the back, and turned to Blake. “Shall we?”

Her eyes freaking lit up like I was sunshine. “Why, yes, Mr. Hunter.”

“Mr. Hunter was my father.” I shivered uncomfortably. “And if rumors from my nanny are believed to be correct, he was a horny bastard. To you, I’m always Ian.”

“Hah!” Blake laughed. “Rumor has it so are you . . .” With a sigh, she whispered my name again. “Ian.”

The way she said my name always had a dizzying effect on my senses. Funny, because for years I’d been surrounded by hot chicks who freaking shouted it from the rooftops, yet it never reverberated in my chest the way it did when Blake uttered it.

A tiny moan crossed her lips. “This place smells so good.”

The waiter stopped by, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline.

Back off, dude.

“I’m Julio. I’ll be your server this evening. Can I get you started with anything?”

“Two lime margaritas on the rocks,” I said before Blake could open her mouth.

“Salt on the rim?” Julio asked.

“Sugar.” I licked my lips while staring at Blake’s mouth.

“Got it.” He walked off.

“Rule number four.” Chips and salsa were placed in front of us. “Two drinks. Never three . . . or four. You may be nervous, but if you go past two, you start to lose your inhibitions, and things can easily go downhill really fast. Two is a safe number, but only if you’ve eaten normally that day.”

Blake shoved a chip into her mouth. “Do I look like one of those girls who doesn’t eat normally? I eat, Ian. I can’t help it.”

“Don’t want you to.” I laughed as she hungrily grabbed another chip. “Plus, you need food with all that cardio you’ll be doing later.”

The chip paused midair. “Cardio?”

“Sex.” I nodded. “Isn’t that what you want to eventually do with David?”

Her face paled. “I, uh, I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Come again?” I was in dangerous territory. She was my client, and I should have been worried that she hadn’t thought about it rather than elated.

“I don’t think about David and sex.”

Our drinks arrived. Julio cleared his throat. “Tonight’s special is—”

“Give us a minute.”

He walked off while I was still staring at Blake like she’d lost her mind. “Sweet cheeks, it’s going to happen eventually.”

She shifted in her seat, tucked her hair nervously behind her ear, and then leaned forward. “I don’t want to think about it, because it makes me want to puke. I’m going to be horrible, he’s going to hate it, and I’m going to make a fool of myself.”

“Rule number five.” I shook my head slowly. “Guys never hate sex. If they don’t get off, it’s either because they mistook numbing cream for K-Y, or they’re gay and you lack the goods to get them there.”

“K-Y?”

“Still need a minute?” Julio asked.

I glared.

He held up his hands and walked off. What, were we his only table or something?

Blake started downing her drink.

“Blake”—I grabbed her wrist and helped her set her drink down—“if you can’t think about sex with him, should you be . . . going on a date with him? I mean, why use my help?”

“It’s just moving so fast.” She grabbed another chip and chomped down. “I wanted him to notice me, not take me to bed two weeks after your little plan worked.”

“Okay.” I leaned back. “So tell him no.”

“I can do that, right?”

“Rule number six,” I said softly. “You can always—and I do mean
always
—say no. In fact, when it comes to David, I strongly encourage it. Who knows where his dick has been. Maybe he has herpes. How would you even know?”

“Okay, now you’re freaking me out.”

“Good, no sex. Go to a nunnery. Lex and I will sneak in chocolate and wine for you every year on your birthday.” I reached across the table and patted her hand. “Blessings, child.”

Blake glared, but she was laughing all the same. “Stop!”

“Okay.” I grabbed a menu. “Let’s order before Julio spits in our tacos.”

Our drinks were already empty. Huh, when did that happen? We both quickly decided on a variety of tacos to share and ordered another round of drinks.

“To our first date.” Blake lifted her glass into the air and clinked it against mine.

“To our first date,” I repeated. But my mind kept reminding me that it was also going to be the last.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-S
EVEN

“We broke a rule,” Blake announced. “You had two margaritas and a tequila shot.”

“Because”—I laughed and tugged her against me, burrowing my face in her neck—“you’d never done a tequila shot. I felt sorry for you. Besides, aren’t rules meant to be broken?”

Blake glanced up at me, tilting her mouth so close that I had no choice but to lean down.

“Your paddleboards are ready,” the employee announced.

“Wait, what?” Panic crossed Blake’s features. “We just had a ton of food, not to mention a tequila shot, and we have to somehow paddle our way back?”

“It’s a half mile,” I said. “You’ll be just fine. Just, you know, try to stay on the board.”

“Hah!” Blake shoved me hard and grabbed her paddle. “I’ve never done this before, so if I drown, it’s on you.”

“Mouth-to-mouth. Thank God for CPR.” I gave her a serious nod. “Do what you have to do, just don’t get pissed if I have to save your life.”

“Enjoy!” The man handed me my paddle.

I pulled off my shoes, put them in the bag that the attendant had, which I’d made Lex swear to pick up later, and then hurried over to Blake. “Give me your heels.” I held open my hands.

“My heels?”

“Yup.” I pulled them from her feet. “Lex is picking up our stuff later. Going barefoot will be easier. Besides, you’ll be too busy staying upright with your puffy life jacket.”

“Alright.” She wiggled her toes, crouched down on the dock and slid to the board on her knees.

“Balance is key,” I called.

“Oh man.” Blake huffed out a curse. “I’m going to ruin Gabi’s dress.”

“Hmm, Blake in a wet dress, me giving mouth-to-mouth—you sure this isn’t a dream?”

“Not funny, Ian!”

The attendant chuckled while I handed him the rest of my stuff and quickly got on my board. “Follow me, sweet cheeks.”

It was a struggle for her at first, but within a few minutes, because of the athlete she was . . . it was a race.

It was one of those unspoken races. The type that happens without anyone having to say anything.

I pulled ahead, and then Blake, and then me again.

“What do I get if I win?” I teased.

Blake barked out a laugh. “Please, when have you ever beaten me?”

“Sure, talk down to the hero, sweet cheeks. It won’t work! I’m still kicking your ass.”

Blake’s laughter was like a caress as she nearly rammed me with her board and then flew by.

“Shit,” I yelled, putting my back into it.

“Neck and neck,” Blake said when we were a few feet from shore.

“Winner takes all!” I shouted.

Blake was ahead by one inch.

So I did what any sane man would do.

I pushed her into the water.

It only came up to her waist, but it was enough to completely soak the dress.

“I can’t believe you did that!” She slapped the water.

“Rule number seven,” I called back once I reached the shore. “Never trust a man during competition.”

“Noted!” She flipped me off, then used the ladder on the dock, climbing up it. “You win.”

“That’s right . . . I win.” I turned, my mouth dropped open, and some foreign-sounding moan emerged from between my lips.

“What are you staring at?”

“Damn, you’re even more beautiful wet.”

“You’re such a guy.” She rolled her eyes and made her way toward me, her legs and feet dripping with water.

“Yes.” I couldn’t help it anymore; I tugged her against me and kissed her hard. “I am.”

She shivered in my arms; whether it was from the cold or the kiss I wasn’t sure, and I really didn’t care.

I didn’t stop.

“Rule number eight,” I whispered against her mouth. “If he goes in for the kiss, let him.”

“Mm’kay.” She kissed me back, wrapping her arms around me, her cold body rocking against my heat. She may have thought she was going to suck at sex, but I knew, right then, her body was very much aware of what needed to happen.

Her tongue flicked mine lightly as she rubbed herself against me.

Shit.

It wasn’t that it had been too long without a girl.

It was that it’d been a lifetime without the right one.

We kissed for mere seconds, minutes, before she withdrew, not just physically but emotionally. And I knew I only had myself to blame, for blurring the lines so freaking well.

For making her believe it was all just a game, when it was so much more.

“So, almost done.” Blake nodded, then wiped her mouth with her hand. “How am I doing so far?”

My heart cracked a bit. “You’re doing fantastic.”

“Good.” She gave me a light shove. “Not only do you owe Gabs a dress, but I’m going to kick your ass for pushing me into the water. Who does that?”

“Conceited bastards who like to win?”

“Oh, so only Ians. Gotcha.”

I smirked and pulled out my keys. Once the SUV was unlocked, I grabbed a blanket from the backseat and handed it to her.

She stared at it. “Do I even want to know why you have a blanket in your car?”

I rolled my eyes. “Not for the reasons you’re assuming.”

“Oh, so you don’t screw girls in the backseat?”

“Can’t say that I have.” I wrapped her tightly in the blanket. “Then again, there’s always a first time for anything.”

“No,” she said quickly.

“Ah.” I stepped back. “Good, you’re listening to the rules.”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Thanks for the help . . .”

“Anytime.” The date was ending. Why the hell was I allowing it? We drove in silence back to her house.

I turned off the car and stared at the porch light, willing the electricity to go out, or for her house to suddenly get burglarized so I’d have an excuse to go with her inside.

“Final rule,” I muttered under my breath. “If you’re feeling that the date’s gone well and you want it to continue, it’s up to you to invite the guy in.”

Blake chewed her lower lip and nodded. “Alright.”

Shit. I wiped my face with my hands, then gripped the steering wheel. So that was it. I guessed. There was nothing left to say.

“Ian?”

“Yeah?” I croaked, not looking at her.

“Do you want to come in?”

My heart stuttered in my chest as I slowly turned my entire body to face her. “That depends.”

“On?” Her smile was confident, sexy.

“Do you have refreshments to offer me? That’s kind of the next unspoken rule—don’t invite them in assuming something will happen. Invite them in for a drink, coffee, late-night movie.”

“All of the above,” she said with a nod. “How’s that?”

“Well, then.” I shut off the car. “I accept.”

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-E
IGHT

The door shut behind us, blanketing the house in silence except for some engine-revving in a car commercial playing on the TV. I tried to even my breathing, but it was damn near impossible.

Blackness filled the small hallway.

“Gabs must be sleeping,” I said, mainly to fill the awkwardness with my voice.

“Serena and Gabs are at a movie,” she whispered back.

“Oh.” I clenched my eyes shut. I needed to seriously back off.

Blake dropped the blanket to the floor and turned in one swift movement. Her eyes searched mine.

I reached for her, needing to just touch her. One last time. Just one last time before I let her go to David . . . Just once before . . .

But her eyes were so hopeful.

And she was just so damn sexy.

More than that.

I’d gone from being the coach to the damn client . . . wanting so desperately for the girl to notice me that I’d go to any lengths to get her attention.

Blake’s eyes met mine. She didn’t turn away.

Life is full of choices. Some good, some bad. I wasn’t sure, in that moment, if I was making a bad choice or the first good choice in a really long time.

Tension hung in the air while we both continued to stare at one another.

When my eyes locked in on her mouth, she moved, ever so slightly, toward me, her body giving me the tiniest hint that I wasn’t going insane, that she wanted me just as much as I wanted her.

Without thinking it through any further, I slammed my mouth against hers, coming up for air only long enough to utter, “Screw David. You’re mine.”

My hands flew at her dress, tugging the wet material down her legs. She stumbled out of it, her wet body sliding against mine. My fingers fumbled for her hips, and I lifted her into the air while my mouth was still fused with hers, tongues twisting, entwining. I wasn’t sure where she ended and where I began. She let out a loud moan that reverberated through the nearly silent hallway.

Her hands dug into my back, gripping me tighter, harder. Control long gone, I swept my tongue across her lower lip, then pulled back and glanced at her swollen mouth and attacked it again from a different angle. My dick strained against my jeans as her core rocked hard against me.

“Damn it.” I stumbled back against the wall with her in my arms, then slowly started taking the stairs one at a time. And with each step, another kiss to her mouth, then one to her neck. Her soft moans were going to be the absolute death of me as I made it to the landing and charged toward her room. The door slammed behind us.

The room was quiet.

Except for my heavy breathing.

And hers.

Slowly, I slid her down my body, growling in pleasure as the friction from her legs caught on my jeans, making me mindlessly thrust toward her.

Blake’s eyes zeroed in on my mouth. I licked my lips in anticipation, still tasting her, my body so hot I felt like I was going to explode. When had it ever been like this? When had I ever been so . . . obsessed?

She reached for me.

I leaned back and wagged my finger.

Blake’s eyebrows shot up. “Too fast?”

I burst out laughing as the warm light from the lamp illuminated her perfection. “Yeah, something like that. As in if we don’t slow down, it’s going to be over way too fast.”

I couldn’t tell if she was blushing; the room was too dark. But what I could tell? She was mind-numbingly beautiful with her wavy hair sticking to her neck, her perfect, nearly naked body beckoning me to take a little bite wherever I wanted. To mark her as mine.

“You about ready now?” she teased.

“Sweet cheeks”—I reached for her hands and tugged her roughly against me—“I’ve been ready since I saw those sexy flip-flops.”

Laughing, she pulled back, or at least tried, but I started moving my lips across her neck, sucking, licking, just freaking tasting, as if I’d never been with a woman before. And maybe I hadn’t, at least not a woman like Blake. One who drove me insane by just breathing.

Blake was in the sexiest damn lingerie I’d ever seen, and my hands ran down the red lace in appreciation as she deepened the kiss. Her chest heaved, splaying her breasts against my chest. I could feel her nipples harden.

I was mindless, an animal, consumed by the feel of her.

Knowing she wanted me as much as I wanted her.

I released her so I could fully admire the red lingerie, desperate to see what I had already felt.

Her gaze heated, but then insecurity washed over her features.

“Oh no you don’t,” I growled, reaching for her again, my mouth angling harshly against hers, my kiss more aggressive than gentle, because, hell, I felt aggressive, like I would die if I couldn’t be inside her.

“I think I need more rules,” she whispered once our mouths broke free. “So I know what to do.”

“No more rules.” I traced my finger down the curve of her breast and gave her bra a little tug. “Rules in the bedroom only lead to confusion and lack of orgasms.”

“How do you figure?”

Shit, I knew that look: she was starting to think. And thinking was always frowned upon. Thinking meant she was going to be the sane one, the one who said, ‘Let’s just be friends,’ when I really wanted to get her naked and fill her to the hilt again and again, until I was dehydrated or near death.

“I figure”—I slid my hand down her arm—“because women concentrate way too hard on
thinking
their way through sex rather than
feeling
.”

Her lower lip trembled as I reached behind her back and undid the clasp, my hands skimming over her bare skin, memorizing the smoothness. I pressed a kiss to the place where her shoulder and neck met.

“Feel,” I whispered, “all you want. And if you say no . . . mean it.”

“What do you mean?”

I pulled back and cupped her chin between my fingers. Damn it, now she was making
me
think, and that also wasn’t a good idea. I’d never been guilty of developing a conscience, until now. “The minute you say no, I’m covering you in as many layers of clothing as I can, and getting as far away from you as physically possible. So don’t say no unless you really mean it, because I won’t be coming back if you change your mind.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I don’t believe I asked you a question, sweet cheeks.”

With shaking hands, she touched my sides, then my hips, where my jeans were already hanging painfully low, and then she reached for the button. She made new definitions for torture as she slowly played with the zipper and then said, “I’m saying yes.”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

My dick jumped to full attention as her fingers grazed the front of my jeans.

Gritting my teeth, I hissed. “You can do better than that.”

I didn’t expect her to slip a wicked little hand into my jeans and grab me.

But she did.

And the small part of my brain that told me this was a bad idea, that it would change things forever, died as she squeezed.

“Better?” she asked.

“Don’t stop touching me,” I said through clenched teeth. Her innocence was staggering, but more than that, the innocent way she explored my body was enough to set me off before any sex even took place.

There was something to be said about being with the right girl.

Waiting for the right moment.

She grunted and then pulled her naughty little hand back. “I think you should take off your jeans.”

“You think?” My eyebrows rose.

She leveled me with a glare, then gave my jeans a damn hard tug. “Take them off.”

“Did you just boss me around? In your bedroom?” I smirked, enjoying the way her cheeks reddened.

She reached for me again.

“Whatever you say,” I groaned. “I’m yours.”

I slid my jeans off slowly. I wanted to do everything slow, to give her time to change her mind but also to make sure she knew without a shadow of a doubt what she’d be saying no to.

She sighed loudly. “I’m disappointed.”

“What?” I had to fight to keep myself from yelling. When had a girl ever said that to me?

She gave me a teasing smile. “I thought for sure you wore an old-school Speedo.”

“That’s it.” I grabbed her by the ass and tossed her over my shoulder, marching her over to the bed. “Teasing time’s over . . . at least for you.”

I flopped her onto her back and crawled up her body, my erection painful, my vision blurring from want.

Blake licked her lips.

“Do that again,” I instructed.

“What?”

“Lick your lips. While I lick you.” I winked and lowered my line of sight so she’d get the idea of exactly where I was going to lick her. “Trust me.”

I could still make out the blush on her cheeks in the dark. Damn, I wanted her response to always be one of wide-eyed innocence.

“What do you mean when you—?”

I ignored her embarrassed protests. They died across my lips as I worked her into a heated frenzy that had her reaching for my hair and tugging it so hard that I growled. My mouth trailed up and down her neck, then lower, and finally, I got the first taste of her—the first real taste. Her hips bucked.

“What are you doing?”

“I should think that would be obvious.” I pressed my hands against her hips to keep her from somehow giving me a black eye. “I’m making love to you—with my mouth.”

Another moan from Blake as her body writhed, and then her hands were tugging against my head so hard I started chuckle against her, which of course made her moan louder.

“Of course you’d be demanding in bed,” I muttered after she floated off into orgasmland. I moved up the bed and eyed her with amusement. “Are you still saying yes?”

“What was that?” Her eyes were glazed, her lips swollen. God, I could just devour her—in fact, I was planning on doing that very thing as soon as she was ready.

“Oh, that?” I winked, then kissed her sensuously across the mouth, still tasting her, not wanting the taste to go away, afraid that after tonight it would. “That was round one.”

“How many rounds are there?” Her eyes were hopeful.

“For you?” I pulled back. “As many as you can handle. And then . . . more.”

“Ian?”

“What?”

“I want to make you feel that way.”

“You do.” And that was the truth. I was nursing an erection, a.k.a. blue balls of steel, and she did make me feel that way, just by allowing me to pleasure her, to bring her to the brink of madness.

Blake leaned up on her elbows, then reached for me. “I want you to feel that way . . . right now.”

“Blake . . .” I wanted sex. I always wanted sex. From her? I wanted endless hours of sex. But . . . somewhere along the way, I’d completely fallen for more than just the promise of filling her tight body. I wanted more. I craved something beyond the physical, and it was scaring the shit out of me.

Because she
should
say no to me. I didn’t deserve her. Maybe that was it—I knew I didn’t deserve her.

“Now.” She tugged me against her, and my body bucked in response. I nearly impaled her by accident, something that had never happened to me before.

I settled between her thighs, every part of me throbbing, aching.

“Blake . . .”

She was grabbing for me, touching me everywhere, driving me insane as she kissed along my neck.

I hovered over her, positioning myself, alternating between wanting to fill her to the hilt, and wanting to back off and lock her in the bathroom. “You have to be sure.”

“Please.” She bit down on my lip. “It’s you, I want you.” Her hands tugged my hair as she pulled my head down, capturing my lips between hers. Damn, she was a fast learner, considering she hadn’t been able to kiss a few weeks ago. “Ian . . .”

“I hate David,” I admitted. Why the hell was I saying his name in bed?

“Okay.” She kissed me again and again and again.

I lost myself in her kisses.

I allowed it.

Our mouths fused together as I bruised her lips over and over. The sensation of her nails running up and down my back was the purest ecstasy. I reached between our bodies, pressing my palm against her core.

Blake let out a little moan.

I jerked back and looked into her eyes. “Rule number nine.”

Hazily, she stared back at me. “I thought you said rules in bed prevented orgasms?”

“Rules,” I said, my voice husky as I racked my brain for a way to ask her about condoms. I’d never been in a situation like this before, and it’s not like I was still in high school and had my very first condom purchase just hanging out in my wallet.

Blake was so wet, ready for me.

“Blake, I need . . .” Swallowing my absolute
need
to be already inside her, I cleared my throat and tried again. “Condom?”

With a lazy smile, she pointed to the nightstand. “I didn’t presume, I mean, ever, but this used to be Gabs’s room, and—”

“Stop”—I jerked open the drawer—“right there.”

She giggled as I ripped open the wrapper and covered my length. Eyes wide, she reached for me, but I batted her hand away.

“If it’s your first time,” I whispered, ignoring her confused look and slowly inching myself into her, “make it count. And focus on me, only me.”

With clenched teeth, I pushed forward.

She let out a little gasp and nearly fell off the bed. Her eyes fluttered closed and then opened again. “If protection’s rule nine, what’s rule number ten?”

Slowly, I started to move. “Never forget it’s me who makes you feel this way.”

“That’s a rule?”

“My new rule.” I arched back and then slammed forward again. “You’re mine, Blake, you hear me? Mine.”

“Yes.” She gasped, pulling my head down, her lips meeting mine with desperation. “Yes.”