Breakaway (14 page)

He was beautiful.

His lips parted as he gently pushed her thighs wider and her
teeth sank deeper into her bottom lip as he studied her. She wanted to squirm,
heat cascading over her body, wanted to close her eyes against the intensity of
his gaze, but she kept them open.

His fingers hard on her thighs, his hands large enough to
almost close right around them, he licked his lips, then bent his head and
pressed a kiss to the fluff of blonde hair on her mound. “Sweet,” he whispered.
He kissed his way to one side, his mouth warm on the flesh of her groin, his
breath like a feather, tickling, tormenting. He pressed his nose there and
inhaled deeply and she melted into the bed.

“You smell so good,” he said. He licked her. “You taste so
good.”

She quivered and throbbed for more, but let him take his time.
He played and touched and explored with big broad fingertips, assertive yet
gentle, and with his eyes, hot and avid. When he slid one finger inside her,
she arched off the bed and fisted her hands into the bedspread.

“So tight,” he whispered. “So tight and hot. You have the
prettiest pussy, Remi. So tiny and smooth and pretty.”

He laid a firm, closed mouth kiss right over her clit. She
quivered. Pulsed. Ached.

And then he tasted her. His tongue swiped up in a long,
luxurious lick, up one side of her slit, then the other. He nibbled and sucked
at her pussy lips, gently drawing her sensitive flesh into his mouth. She
writhed beneath him, eyes now tightly closed, everything centered on the
sensation between her legs. She had never experienced oral sex like this. He
worshipped her with his mouth, with lips and tongue and teeth, as if he couldn’t
get enough of her, as if he wanted to eat her alive, breathe her in.

And then he closed his lips around her clit and sucked. She
bucked off the bed again, made a low, hoarse noise in her throat, turned her
head from side to side on the mattress. He sucked and sucked, gently, then more
firmly as pressure built inside her, exquisite twisting pressure. Her orgasm
ripped through her like wildfire in her veins, her body taut and arching, and
she cried out.

“Oh, dear God.” Her body limp, she whimpered as he continued
to kiss her pussy with soft, gentle purses of his lips and nudges of his
tongue, so sensitive that every touch sent a barrage of sparks through her. “Stop,
please.” She reached for him and tried to grab his hair. “I can’t take any
more.”

“Mmmm.” He took one last little lick, then lifted his head. “Wanna
make you come again, baby. You taste so damn sweet.”

“Please.” Her chest ached from trying to breathe.

“Please yes? Or please no?”

But he ignored her garbled response, probably couldn’t
understand it anyway, and proceeded to lick her to another shuddering,
mind-shattering orgasm.

* * * * *

“I want you to stay,” he whispered to her much later. “But I
have an early flight to Boston in the morning.”

She tilted her head and gave him a regretful smile. “Mmm.
That’s okay.”

“I’ll drive you home.”

It sucked having to get out of bed and get dressed. Once at
her place, he walked her to the door.

“Good luck,” she said. “I’m cheering for you guys. You can
do it.”

“Thanks.” He paused. He didn’t want to leave her. He
swallowed. “I’ll call you after the game.”

“Okay.”

He slowly walked back to his Jeep. It was the middle of the
night. He didn’t want to leave her.

What was happening here? All he could think about was Remi,
all he cared about was her and how she was feeling. He hated it that the
paparazzi had scared her. It had never bothered him before, but suddenly it
mattered to someone else and she mattered to him and…

He climbed into his vehicle and sat there for a moment.
Christ. He had to stop thinking thoughts like that. He’d just broken up with
one girl because she was getting too serious. He was in no way ready for a
serious long-term relationship. Hence the breakup.

He was going to let loose and have fun in Boston like the
single guy he was. Road trips were always good for some action.

* * * * *

This place was killing him.

They’d won their Sunday afternoon game against the Bruins.
They’d been out for dinner to celebrate and now were hanging out in some
glittery club not unlike Rouge, full of beautiful people in designer clothes. A
bunch of girls had latched onto the hockey players, literally in some cases
hanging off their arms, and Dominic and Matthieu and the others were lapping it
all up. Oh yeah, they’d be getting lucky tonight.

Jason had politely extricated himself from the clutches of a
gorgeous redhead and then a hot blonde, finding himself bored and distracted.
He’d had a few beers and didn’t want any more. The throbbing music was giving
him a headache.

The peace and quiet of his hotel room was calling to him. He
wanted out. So he left, to the surprise of his teammates.

Back at the hotel, he sat on the bed with the remote for the
television and channel surfed. Nothing appealed to him. He decided to play
Nintendo for a while, but when he kept screwing up, he ditched that too. He
tossed aside the controller and stretched out on the bed, hands behind his
head.

Remi. He’d said he’d call her to tell her how the game went.
He’d wanted to call her the minute he got off the ice, jubilant and triumphant,
but had to deal with the television and newspaper reporters asking a million
questions about heading into the playoffs with such a dismal record lately and
the much-needed win and his hat trick. He was always polite and patient with
the press. It was important for the team and for the league, so he always tried
to give them his best, most thoughtful answers and take the time to chat with
them.

He grabbed his cell phone and punched the button that was
now Remi on speed dial. She answered right away.

“We won,” he said.

She laughed. “I know. I watched it on TV.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” He grinned and relaxed. “Feels pretty good.”

“I guess so. See, I told you you’d do it.”

“You did.”

Again they talked for nearly an hour.

“I wish you were here,” he said and then he couldn’t believe
the words had popped out of his mouth.

“I wish you were here,” she replied in a sexy voice. Hell.
They were about eight hundred miles too far apart.

“Wanna have phone sex?”

A pause. “I’ve never done that.”

“Get outta here. Really?”

Another pause, slightly frosty-feeling. “And you do it all
the time?”

He laughed. “Of course not, I was just kidding.” Sort of. “Okay,
get ready.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Serious as a missed penalty shot.”

She giggled.

“Come on, Miss I Just Wanna Have Fun. Let loose. What are
you wearing?”

She laughed again at the cheesy question.

“Um …flannel pj pants and a long sleeved T-shirt.”

“Mmm. Sexy. Take them off.”

“Jase.”

“Right here.”

“I can’t do this.”

“Why not?” Ah, hell. “Don’t tell me your sister is back
again.”

“No! No, I’m alone. I just…”

“Just do it.” He put a hand over his fly, testing his
erection. Yup, hard as a goal post. “I’m gonna. I’m unzipping my pants right now.”

He heard her breathless noise as he did what he was telling
her.

“Okay,” she said in a throaty voice. “I’m taking my top off.”

Jason groaned.

* * * * *

Remi sat in her living room Monday night, papers spread out
around her as she marked social studies projects. But her mind kept wandering
back to Jason.

Earlier, she’d done a little additional research. About Jason.
Google brought up a treasure trove of information—personal information with
oodles of photos of him, including sexy photos of him shirtless, advertising
for a brand of hockey equipment and aftershave, and many, many photos of Jason
and Brianne. Not to mention older photos of Jason and other women. Lots of
other women. But he and Brianne had apparently been together for two years.

That was a long time. What had happened?

There were articles about his family—the new “first family”
of hockey with three brothers in the NHL and the fourth brother a top draft
pick although he now played for a farm team. He’d be in the NHL too, one day.

She also found lots of stats on goals and penalty minutes
and things she didn’t understand and salary information and—holy crap! Jason
made nearly six million dollars last year! She actually felt nauseous when she
read that.

No wonder he thought women were after his money.

With a sick feeling in her stomach, she dropped her pen and
leaned back into the couch. She wished she hadn’t found that out. She did not
want to know how much money he made. If she didn’t know, he couldn’t think she
was after his money like every other woman. Because she wasn’t. Hell, she wasn’t
even after him. They were just playing around. Having fun.

She felt unreasonably annoyed, irritation like a persistent
itch, at the things she’d discovered on Google. He was rich. Famous. Talented.

Except the last two days she’d actually missed him. Missed
him with an aching intensity deep inside that scared the crap out of her.
Because she wasn’t supposed to be getting emotionally involved. Especially with
someone like Jason.

Her annoyance rose, now at herself for missing him when he so
clearly out of her league.

God, if Darryl had thought she was boring, what on earth was
Jason doing with her?

Besides having phone sex.

Oh, lord. She pressed a hand to her tummy. She’d done a few
things lately with Jason that she never would have thought of doing before.
What was happening to her?

Her doorbell startled her into a straight up position and
she blinked, then got to her feet.

Jason stood on her doorstep.

Her heart expanded, softened, accelerated. She opened the
door to him.

“Hi.” His smile crinkled his eyes and made her melt.

“Hi.”

And then they were in each other’s arms, kissing
frantically. Her arms slid under his leather jacket, finding warm, male muscles
beneath his cotton shirt. He hoisted her up against him, feet dangling, and
kissed her until the room spun around her.

He lowered her to her feet and she clutched his arms to keep
herself from falling. “Wow.”

“Yeah.” His eyes sparkled. “What are you doing?”

“Marking projects.” She led the way into her living room and
grimaced at the sight of all the papers everywhere. “Uh…sorry about the mess.”

He shrugged. “No biggie. You saw my apartment.”

“Oh, yeah.” She grinned as she picked up papers and piled
them on the table, remembering the chaos she’d only noticed as they’d been
leaving his place.

Jason sat on the couch and she sat beside him, but he
immediately picked her up and set her on his lap and kissed her again, long,
deep, kisses.

Her skin tingled and her breasts swelled. She ached between
her legs and pressed into him, until sanity intruded into her lust-fogged brain
and she drew back.

“Jase.” She put a hand on his chest, feeling his heart
thudding beneath her palm. “What are we doing here?”

“Making out.” He nuzzled her neck.

She pushed on his chest. He was like a frickin’ wall.

He lifted his head and gazed at her quizzically. “What?”

She shifted in his embrace. “I mean, what are we
doing
?”

“Fun. Remember?” He held her gaze, then his smile faded. “Aw,
fuck.”

“Yeah. That’s kind of what I was thinking.”

Chapter Nine

They sat there, silence swelling around them, dense and
tense.

“I missed you,” Jason finally said.

Remi bit her lip. She’d missed him too, so much, but she was
vexed from all the stuff she’d found online about him and how this was supposed
to be fun and how much fun it had
not
been, missing him like that.

“Remi.” Jason put his knuckles under her chin to lift it. “I
think I’m falling in love with you.”

She stared at him. Her body went stone-still and stone-cold.
Her heart suspended beating. He did not just say that.

The look on his face—the hopeful, nervous anticipation—gave
her a splintery feeling in her chest. And it pissed her off.

She shoved at his chest with both hands and scrambled off
his lap.

“You are not!” she yelled. “Are you insane?” She stood there,
hands on hips, glaring at him. “That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

His eyes shuttered and the cracking feeling inside her
intensified to the point of hurting.

“I think you should go,” she snapped. “We hardly know each
other. This was supposed to be fun. If you can’t keep it fun, then let’s just
forget it.”

He set his big hands on the couch cushions beside him and
stared at her. She kept her frown firmly in place although the corners of her
eyes were stinging. She blinked rapidly.

“I think you’re kind of overreacting,” he finally said, the
words long and stretched out. “What’s gotten into you?”

She breathed out through her nose, lips pressed together. “This
isn’t working, Jason. You live in a different world. I had no idea who you were
or what you did or that you make freakin’ millions of dollars.”

“What does that have to do with anything? And besides, I
never knew you were a teacher, either, but I didn’t let that stop me from
getting to know you.”

She took a step backward. What was he talking about? That
made no sense at all. “You have something against teachers?” She gave her head
a shake at that.

“Forget it.” He stood, towering over her. “You’re acting
weird, Remi. You knew that stuff last week. Why is it such a big deal now?”

“Because you…you said…that!”

He ran a hand through his hair, making the short dark
strands stand up in all different directions. He closed his eyes briefly. “I’m
sorry. I just wanted you to know…ah hell. This is fucking nuts. What the hell
am I doing?”