Kitabı oku: «Body Check», sayfa 2

The sexual fog in his brain cleared, leaving him alert and composed, and completely aware of the flush on the brunette’s cheeks and the hint of attraction in her eyes. If this woman was looking to score with Mr. Hockey, she had another think coming.

“I’m Hayden,” his new opponent said, uncertainty floating through her forest-green eyes.

“Brody Croft,” he returned coolly, waiting for the flicker of recognition to cross her features.

It didn’t happen. No flash of familiarity, no widening of the eyes. Her expression didn’t change in the slightest.

“It’s nice to meet you. Brody.” Her voice lingered on his name, as if she were testing it out for size. She must have decided she liked the fit, because she gave a small nod and turned her attention to the table. After a quick examination, she pointed to the ball he’d failed to sink and called the shot.

Okay, was he supposed to believe she genuinely didn’t know who he was? That she’d walked into a sports bar and randomly chosen to hit on the only hockey player in attendance?

“So…did you catch the game last night?” he said with a casual slant of the head.

She gave him a blank stare. “What game?”

“Game one of the play-offs, Warriors and Vipers. Seriously good hockey, in my opinion.”

Her brows drew together in a frown. “Oh. I’m not really a fan, to be honest.”

“You don’t like the Warriors?”

“I don’t like hockey.” She made a self-deprecating face. “Actually, I can’t say I enjoy any sport, really. Maybe the gymnastics in the summer Olympics?”

He couldn’t help but grin. “Are you asking or telling?”

She smiled back. “Telling. And I guess it’s very telling that I only watch a sports event once every four years, huh?”

He found himself liking the dry note to her throaty voice when she admitted her disinterest in sports. Her honesty was rare. Most—fine, all—of the women he encountered claimed to love his sport of choice, and if they didn’t truly love it, they pretended to, as if sharing that common interest made them soul mates.

“But I love this game,” Hayden added, raising her cue. “It counts as a sport, right?”

“It does in my book.”

She nodded, then focused on the balls littering the table. She leaned forward to take her shot.

He got a nice eyeful of her cleavage, a tantalizing swell of creamy-white skin spilling over the neckline of her snug yellow top. When he lowered his eyes, he couldn’t help but admire her full breasts, hugged firmly by a thin bra he could only see the outline of.

She took the shot, and he raised his brows, impressed, as the ball cleanly disappeared into the pocket. She was good.

All right, more than good, he had to relent as she proceeded to circle the table and sink ball after ball.

“Where’d you learn to play like that?” he asked, finally finding his voice.

She met his eyes briefly before sinking the last solid on the table. “My dad.” She smiled again. Those pouty lips just screamed for his mouth to do wicked things to them. “He bought me my own table when I was nine, set it up right next to his. We used to play side by side in the basement every night before I went to bed.”

“Does he still play?”

Her eyes clouded. “No. He’s too busy with work to relax around a pool table anymore.” She straightened her back and glanced at the table. “Eight ball, corner pocket.”

At this point, Brody didn’t even care about the game Hayden was certain to win. The sweet scent of her perfume, a fruity sensual aroma, floated in the air and made him mindless with need. Man, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so drawn to a woman.

After sinking the eight ball, she moved toward him, each step she took heightening his desire. She ran her fingers through her dark hair, and a new aroma filled his nostrils. Strawberries. Coconut.

He was suddenly very, very hungry.

“Good game,” she said, shooting him another smile. Impish, this time.

His mouth twisted wryly. “I didn’t even get to play.”

“I’m sorry.” She paused. “Do you like to play?”

Was she referring to pool? Or a different game? Maybe the kind you played in bed. Naked.

“Pool, I mean,” she added quickly.

“Sure, I like pool. Among other things.” Let’s see how she handles that.

A cute rosy flush spread over her cheeks. “Me, too. I mean, I like other things.”

His curiosity sparked as he stared at the enigma in front of him. He got the distinct impression that she was flirting with him. Or trying to, at least. Yet her unmistakable blush and the slight trembling of her hands betrayed the confident air she tried to convey.

Did she do this often? Flirt with strange men in bars? Looking at her again, now that he was able to see through the fog of initial attraction, it didn’t seem like the case. She was dressed rather conservatively. Sure, the top was low-cut, but it covered her midriff, and her jeans didn’t ride low on her hips like those of most of the other women in this place. And sexy as she was, she didn’t seem to be aware of her own appeal.

“That’s good. Other things can be a lot of fun,” he answered, unable to stop the husky pitch of his voice.

Their gazes connected. Brody could swear the air crackled and hissed with sexual tension. Or maybe he just imagined it. He couldn’t deny the hum of awareness thudding in his groin like the bass line of a sultry jazz tune, but maybe he was alone in the feeling. It was difficult to get a read on Hayden.

“So…Brody.” His name rolled off her lips in a way that had his body growing stiff. That didn’t say much, considering that every part of him was already hard and prickling with anticipation.

He wanted her in his bed.

Whoa—where had that come from?

Five minutes ago he was telling himself it was time to quit falling into bed with women who didn’t give a damn about him and look for something more meaningful. So why the hell was he anticipating a roll in the hay with a woman he’d just met?

Because she’s different.

The observation came out of nowhere, bringing with it a baffling swirl of emotion. Yes, this woman had somehow managed to elicit primal, greedy lust in him. Yes, her body was designed to drive a man wild. But something about her seriously intrigued him. Those damn cute freckles, the shy smiles, the look in her eyes that clearly said, “I want to go to bed with you but I’m apprehensive about it.” It was the combination of sensuality and bashfulness, excitement and wariness, that attracted him to her.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but promptly closed it when Hayden reached out to touch his arm.

Looking up at him with those bottomless green eyes, she said, “Look, I know this is going to sound…forward. And don’t think I do this often—I’ve never done this actually, but…” She took a breath. “Would you like to come back to my hotel?”

Ah, her hotel. An out-of-towner. That explained why she hadn’t recognized him. And yet he got the feeling that even if she did know what he did for a living, she wouldn’t care.

He liked that.

“Well?” she said, fixing him with an expectant stare.

He couldn’t stop the teasing twinge in his voice. “And what will we do in your hotel room?”

A hint of a smile. “We could have a nightcap.”

“A nightcap,” he repeated.

“Or we could talk. Watch television. Order room service.”

The little vixen was teasing him, he realized. And, damn, but he liked this side of her, too.

“Maybe raid the minifridge?”

“Definitely.”

Their eyes met and locked, the heat of desire and promise of sex filling the space between them. Finally he shoved his pool cue in the rack and strode back to her. Screw it. He’d told himself no more sleazy bar pickups, but damn it, this didn’t feel sleazy. It felt right.

Barely able to disguise the urgency in his tone, he curled his fingers over her hot, silky skin and said, “Let’s go.”

2

DEAR GOD, he’d said yes.

She’d invited a gorgeous stranger back to her hotel room for a nightcap (translation: sex) and he’d actually said yes.

Hayden resisted the urge to fan her hot face with her hands. Instead, trying to remain cool and collected, she said, “I’ll meet you outside, okay? I just need to tell my friend I’m leaving.”

His smoldering blue eyes studied her for a moment, making her grow hotter. With a quick nod, he exited the bar. Tearing her attention away from his criminally sexy backside, she spun on her heel and hurried back to Darcy, dodging people along the way. When she reached the table, Darcy greeted her with a delighted grin. “You bad girl, you,” she teased, wagging her finger.

Sliding into the chair, Hayden swallowed hard and willed her heartbeat to slow. “Jesus. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“I take it he said yes?”

Hayden ignored the question. “I just propositioned a complete stranger. Granted, he’s a very sexy stranger, but hell! I’m not sure I can do this.”

“Of course you can.”

“But I don’t even know him. What if he hacks me to pieces and hides my dismembered body parts in the air-conditioning system of the hotel or something?”

“You have your cell phone?”

She nodded.

“If you see any sign of trouble, call the cops. Or call me and I’ll call the cops.” Darcy shrugged. “But I wouldn’t worry. He doesn’t seem like the serial-killer type.”

Hayden blew out a breath. “That’s what they said about Ted Bundy.”

“You can back out, you know. You don’t have to sleep with this guy. But you want to, don’t you?”

Did she want to? Oh, yeah. As the image of Brody’s chiseled face and scrumptious body flashed through her brain, some of her nervousness dissolved. He was hands down the most gorgeous man she’d ever met. And she got the feeling he knew his way around a bedroom. The raw sex appeal pouring out of him told her she might be in for a very stimulating night.

“I want to.” Newfound confidence washed over her. “And I probably shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

Darcy winked. “Have fun.”

“Are you going to be okay here alone?”

“Of course.” Darcy gestured to her fruity pink drink. “This daiquiri will attract the fellows like flies to honey. For the purpose of this analogy, I’ll be the honey.”

Hayden laughed. “Whatever you say.”

With a quick wave, she threaded through the crowd toward the door. When she stepped into the cool night air, she spotted Brody standing near one of the potted plants in the entrance, his hands slung in the pockets of his jeans. A shiver tickled her belly as she took in his profile. He really was spectacular. Her gaze lowered to his lips. She wondered what they would feel like pressed against her own. Would they be soft? Hard? Both?

“Hey,” she said, her voice wavering.

She took a step forward just as he turned to face her. His expression, appreciative, anticipatory, sizzled her nerves. “Your car or mine?” he asked in a rough voice that made her toes curl.

“I don’t have a car. My friend drove here.” A squeak, her voice had come out in a damn squeak.

“My car’s over there.” He nodded, then began walking toward the parking lot. He didn’t check to see if she was following. As if he just assumed she was.

This was her chance to walk away. She could hurry into the bar and pretend she’d never asked this man to come back to her hotel. She could phone up Doug, have a heart-to-heart, maybe entice him into engaging in some phone sex…. Ha! Fat chance.

She hurried to keep up with Brody’s purposeful strides.

“Nice car,” she remarked when they reached the shiny black BMW SUV.

“Thanks.” He pulled a set of keys from his front pocket and pressed a button. The car’s security system beeped as the doors unlocked, and he reached for the passenger door and opened it for her. Hayden settled against the leather seat and waited for Brody to get in.

After he’d buckled his seat belt and started the engine, he turned to her and asked, “Where to?”

“The Ritz-Carlton.”

He raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything, just pulled out of the parking lot and made a left turn. “So where are you from, Hayden?”

“I was born in Chicago, but I’ve been living in San Francisco for the past three years.”

“And what do you do out there?”

“I’m a junior professor at Berkeley. I teach art history, and I’m also working toward a Ph.D.”

Before she could ask him what he did for a living, he said, “Sounds exciting.”

She got the feeling he wasn’t talking about her career anymore. Her suspicions were confirmed when his gaze swept over face and dropped to her cleavage. Under his brief—but appreciative—scrutiny, her nipples tightened against her lace bra.

She played with the sleeve of the green wool sweater she’d brought instead of a coat, focusing on the scenery along South Michigan Avenue, afraid to look at him again. If he got her this aroused from one hooded glance, what on earth would he do to her in bed?

Gosh, she couldn’t wait to find out.

The rest of the car ride was silent. They reached the hotel, and Brody pulled into the lot and killed the engine. Still, neither of them spoke. As she unbuckled her seat belt, her pulse began to race. This was it. An hour ago she’d been complaining to Darcy about the lack of sex in her life, and now here she was, walking into the lobby of the Ritz with the sexiest man she’d ever encountered.

Her heart thumped against her rib cage as they rode the elevator up to the penthouse. Shooting her a quizzical look, he said, “You must make good money at Berkeley.”

She simply nodded, her expression vague. She didn’t want to tell him that the lavish penthouse actually belonged to her father. Her dad had lived here up until three years ago, before he’d married Sheila. He kept the place so Hayden would have somewhere to stay when she came to visit. But she didn’t want to tell Brody, mostly because that would lead to questions like what does your father do? Which would then lead to questions about her dad’s hockey team and that was one topic of conversation she tried to avoid.

With the exception of Doug, most of the men she’d dated over the years had gone a little crazy when they found out her father owned the Warriors. Once, she’d dated a man who’d badgered her constantly to get him season tickets—which had driven her to promptly break up with him.

She understood the sports obsession that came with most males, but just once it would be nice if she were the source of a man’s infatuation.

The elevator doors opened right into the living room. Decorated in shades of black and gold, the room boasted four enormous leather couches in the center, all positioned in the direction of a fifty-six-inch plasma television mounted on the far wall. The suite had three large bedrooms, as well as a private covered balcony with a ten-person hot tub. In the corner of the main suite was a wet bar, which Hayden made a beeline for the second they stepped inside.

She wasn’t a big drinker, but her nerves were shaky, making her hands tremble and her heartbeat erratic, and she hoped the alcohol might calm her down.

“What can I get you?” she called over her shoulder. “There’s beer, scotch, whiskey, bourbon—”

“You.” With a soft laugh, Brody eliminated the distance between them.

Oh, God, he was huge. She had to fully tilt her head up to look at him. At five feet three inches, she felt like a dwarf next to him. Her heart jammed in her throat as he stepped even closer. She could feel his body heat, his warm breath tickling her ear as he leaned down and whispered, “That was the nightcap you were referring to, wasn’t it?”

His low, husky voice heated her veins. When she met his eyes, she saw the unmistakable desire glittering in their cobalt-blue depths. “Well?” he prompted.

“Yes.” The word squeaked out of her mouth.

He settled his big hands on her waist, yet didn’t press his body against hers. Despite the pounding of her heart, anticipation began to build in her belly, slowly crept up to her breasts like a vine and made them grow heavy, achy. She wanted him closer, wanted to feel his firm chest on her breasts, his hardness between her thighs.

Brody lifted one hand and brushed his thumb against her lower lip. “If you want to change your mind, now’s the time.”

He waited for her answer, watching her closely. Her throat grew dry, while another part of her grew wet.

Did she want to change her mind? Maybe she should call her own bluff now, before things got out of hand. But as she studied his handsome face, she realized she didn’t want him to leave. So what if this wouldn’t result in I-love-you’s and cosigning a mortgage for a house? Tonight wasn’t about that. Tonight she was stressed and tired and sexually frustrated. And just once she wanted to be with a man without thinking about the future.

“I haven’t changed my mind,” she murmured.

“Good.”

He skimmed his hand over her hip, moving it to her back, grazing her tailbone. Then he stared at her lips, as if pondering, debating.

His slow perusal lasted too long for her throbbing body. She wanted him to kiss her. Now. She let out a tiny groan to voice her anguish.

Amusement danced across his features. “What? What do you want, Hayden?”

“Your mouth.” The words flew out before she could stop them, shocking her. Since when was she this forward?

“All right.” He dipped his head and planted a soft kiss on her neck, lightly biting the tender flesh with his teeth.

She whimpered and he responded with a chuckle, his warm breath moistening her skin. He trailed his tongue up to her earlobe, flicked over it, licked it, then blew a stream of air over it, making her shiver.

Fire began simmering in her blood, heating all the parts that already ached for him. She reached up and touched his dark hair, relishing the silky texture. She’d never known a simple kiss could have such a slow buildup. Most of the men in her past had thrust their tongues into her mouth and quickly followed suit by thrusting themselves into her.

But Brody, he took his time.

He tortured her.

“Your skin tastes like…” He kissed her jaw, then nipped at it. “Strawberries. And honey.”

All she could do was shiver in response.

“Take off your clothes,” he said roughly.

She swallowed. “Now?”

“Now would be a good time, yes.”

She reached for the hem of her sweater, trying to fight the insecurity spiraling through her. She’d never stripped for a man before. Was she supposed to put on a show? Dance? Well, forget that. No matter how much she wanted him right now, she wasn’t going to pretend to be the sexy seductress she wasn’t.

She pulled her sweater and tank top over her head, pleased to hear Brody’s breath hitch at the sight of her lacy wisp of a bra. When she reached for the front clasp, he shook his head. “No. Not yet. First the jeans.”

Well. Commanding, wasn’t he?

Obligingly, she wiggled out of her jeans and let them drop to the floor. Her black panties matched her bra, and they, too, left little to the imagination.

Brody’s eyes widened with approval. She was starting to get the hang of this stripping thing. Hooking her thumbs under the spaghetti-thin straps that constituted a waistband, she pulled her panties down her thighs, slowly, bending over a little so he could get a peek at her cleavage.

Naked from the waist down, she held his gaze. “Like what you see?”

His serious expression never faltered. “Very much. Now the bra.”

In one slow, fluid movement, she unclasped her bra and tossed it aside. Strangely enough, she no longer felt insecure.

“I like—” he stepped closer and brushed his thumb over the swell of one breast “—these. A lot.”

She wondered if he realized he still hadn’t kissed her lips. Though the way his eyes burned every inch of skin she’d just exposed to him, she felt thoroughly kissed.

“Your turn. Get rid of your clothes.”

He grinned. “Why don’t you do it for me?”

The thought of undressing him was so appealing that her nipples hardened. He didn’t miss the reaction, and his grin widened.

“Gets you going, doesn’t it, the thought of peeling these clothes off my body?” he taunted.

“Yes,” she blew out.

“Then do it.”

With a shaky breath, she grasped his sweater, bunching the material between her fingers before lifting it up his chest and over his head. That first sight of his bare chest stole the breath from her lungs. Every inch of him was hard. His defined pectorals, the rippling abs and trim hips. He had a two-inch scar under his collarbone, and another under his chin that she hadn’t noticed before, but the scars only added to his appeal, making him appear dangerous.

A badass tribal tattoo covered one firm bicep, while the other boasted a lethal-looking dragon in mid-flight. It reminded her of her own tattoo, the one she’d gotten for the sole purpose of pissing off her father after he’d grounded her for missing curfew when she was seventeen. Even now the spontaneity of her actions—getting a tattoo!—surprised her. Darcy always teased that she had a secret wild side, and maybe she did, but it rarely made any appearances.

Tonight, though, her wild side had definitely come out to play.

“Like what you see?” Brody mimicked, the heat in his eyes telling her he was enjoying the attention.

She licked her lips. “Yes.” Then she reached for his fly, un-buttoned it and pulled the zipper down. She bent over to slide his jeans off, admiring his long legs and muscular thighs and the erection that pushed against the black boxer briefs he wore, a thick ridge that made her mouth water.

Dear God, this was insanity.

Stumbling to her feet, she tugged at his waistband and helped him out of the briefs. Leaving him as naked as she was.

She shyly appraised his body, which was toned, muscled and unbelievably male. She eyed his impressive erection, then trembled at the thought of that hard, pulsing cock buried deep inside her.

Suddenly she could no longer bear it.

“For God’s sake, kiss me,” she blurted out.

“Yes, ma’am.” His eyes gleaming, Brody pressed his body against hers and finally bent down to capture her mouth.

Oh, sweet Jesus.

He felt and tasted like heaven. With skilled ease, he explored her mouth, swirling and thrusting his tongue into every crevice, hot and greedy. When he sucked on her bottom lip, she let out a deep moan then pulled back and stared at him in awe.

Brody seemed to know exactly what to do, turning her on in a way she’d never anticipated. He fondled her breasts for an excruciatingly long time before finally dipping his head and sampling one mound with his tongue.

He sucked the nipple hard, flicked his tongue over it, nibbled on it until she cried out with pleasure that bordered on pain, and just when she thought it couldn’t possibly feel better than that, he turned his attention to her other breast.

Arousal drummed through her body, until her thighs grew slick from her own wetness, and she found herself choking out, “We need a bed. Now.”

DAMN, HE HADN’T expected her to be like this. Deliciously demanding and so gorgeous. Something about Hayden sent lust and curiosity spinning through him, the need to both claim her and unravel the mystery of her.

And there was definitely plenty to learn about this freckle-faced professor who had initiated a one-night stand when it was obviously not in her nature.

He sucked on her nipple once more before pulling his head away and straightening his back. His mouth went dry as sawdust as he stared at the evidence of his handiwork on those high, full breasts. His stubble had chafed the hell out of her creamy white skin, leaving splotches of red, and the tips of her dusky pink nipples glistened with the moisture, making him want to feast on her again.

His eyes dropped to the wispy line of dark hair between her thighs. He knew it was called a landing strip and goddamn but he couldn’t wait to land his tongue down there. The sparse amount of hair offered a mouthwatering view of her swollen clit.

His already hot and hard body grew hotter and harder.

“Where’s the bedroom?” he groaned.

Hayden’s mouth quirked. Without answering, she turned on her heel toward the unlit hallway.

Brody took two steps, then stopped when he noticed the tattoo on her lower back. Oh, man. In the shadowy corridor he could just make out the shape of a bird. A hawk, or an eagle. Dark, dangerous, incredibly sexy and completely surprising. He’d known this woman was different. Her tattoo was so tantalizing he marched up to her and gripped her slender waist with both hands.

The top of her head barely reached his chin. How had this saucy little woman reduced him to a state of foolish hunger?

As his hands trailed down her hips, she twisted her head slightly to send him a look that said she was curious about his next move.

His next move consisted of dropping to his knees and outlining the tattoo with his tongue.

Hayden shuddered, but he kept one hand on her waist, keeping her steady. “Why an eagle?” he murmured, kissing her lower back.