Games We Play (7 page)

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Authors: Ruthie Robinson

Tags: #romance contemporary, #multicultural romance

BOOK: Games We Play
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“You don’t play much in Austin?”

“Nowhere near as much as I’d like,” she said.

#

Hole eight was a delicate little par three that ended in a net push with Kendall recording a five and Cooper finishing with a par. Now they stood at the nine tee box.

“Hole nine is aptly named Devil’s Ditch. It’s a par five
,
and it’s a bitch of a tough finishing hole. There’s this little ravine in front of the green, about one hundred seventy yards out, that you’ve got to clear,” Cooper said. “By the way, we never did settle on what you would do for me if I won,” he continued, lowering his voice.

“Whatever you want,” she said, the look in her eyes drawing him in until he stood in front of her, like they were more than friends. She was a lot shorter than his six-feet-two-inches frame, maybe five seven. He leaned in close to her and watched her tongue slowly swipe her lips and her eyelids close in anticipation. He didn’t kiss her, though, not yet.

“Let me finish beating you here, and if you’re interested and you’re not angry about losing to me, I’ll show you what I want,” he said through lips that were an inch away from hers, still making no move to touch them to hers. His hand moved to her waist, however, arriving there of its own volition, itching to slide down to her backside. He stepped back instead and watched as she swung.

“Nice shot,” he said, following her ball as it landed to the left of the fairway, ten yards away from the sand trap. They traded places, and she watched him swing.

“Impressive,” she said when LC reached her again.

“It is, isn’t it?” he said, smiling. “Lots of lessons too,” he said, putting his driver away.

Four

“C
ongratulations,” Cooper said, picking up his ball fifteen minutes later. She’d won. They were standing on the green of hole nine.

“Thank you. I enjoyed playing with you this evening,” she said.

“Me too, Professor,” he said.

“Professor, huh?”

“I like it, and you are one, right?” he asked.

“That’s correct. Meet you at the clubhouse?” she asked.

“Sure. I have to put the gator away, so give me a few. Pull your cart to the back of the lot where the used carts go.”

She nodded. “See in you five?”

“You will,” he said.

This was a nice way to spend the evening
, Kendall thought, guiding her cart to behind his. One day away from Austin, and she was enjoying herself immensely. Playing in the company of a handsome man. That wasn’t unusual—she’d played with handsome men before, most recently Houston, but playing with her ex had been vastly different from today’s match. Houston was irritating, with his smug
I’m a man and of course I can play better than you, a mere woman
attitude, competitive in everything, which had grown old quickly.

The first time she’d played with Houston, he’d taken his early defeat well, laughing after she beat him on the first few holes. Then she’d continued to win, and it suddenly wasn’t so funny anymore. He’d grown quiet and doubled his efforts to beat her, not that it had helped any. He hadn’t, couldn’t beat her, and he’d turned out to be quite the sore loser. What had she been thinking, spending her time with a man who couldn’t handle a winning woman?

#

“So what did you think? You enjoy your first time on our golf course?” LC asked. He’d gotten to the clubhouse first in spite of what he’d said. Putting away her golf cart had taken her longer than she’d thought, and again, she was impressed at the level of thought that had gone into designing a course that required so much from its players. There was no one around to pick up after you. Not like some of the upscale places she’d played where someone met you at your car, then gave you a lift to and from the clubhouse.

“I did,” she said.

He was standing at the bottom of the steps, watching her as she made her way over to him. The parking lot was empty save for her SUV and his truck. She recognized it now—grey and beat-up.

“Drinks on me, then—your winnings,” he said, bringing her attention front and center to him.

“What if I want something other than a soda for my winnings? What if I want—” she began.

“You can have that too,” he said, interrupting her before she could finish.

That sentence was delivered softly, with a huge dose of sexy in it, a good combination on any day.

“You don’t know what I was going to say.”

He smiled and just watched her. It made her a little nervous, but not
that
nervous.
A record day for Kendall, folks
, she thought. Today she’d flirted with a handsome man at a gas station, played an excellent game of golf with the same man, and had been issued an invitation to play a different type of game altogether. Hell yes, and so out of the ordinary for her. “Will it be worth it?” she asked.

“I can’t answer that. You’ll have to see for yourself,” he said, and stood there, eyes locked on hers, arms folded across his chest, cool and relaxed, as if he could take it or leave it.

#

Make no mistake, he was interested, and all that flirting at the gas station, in addition to the flirting that had gone on the golf course, had just been preliminary for him. He stood by the door to see what she would do, to see if all her flirting had been preliminary too.

She took the steps up to the door, put the combination in the lock, and opened it. He followed her in and stood leaning against the door, watching, content to let her set the course. One never knew with women, whether they were all talk and tease or all put up or shut up, so he waited for her to give the signal.

She made her way over to the couch and, standing in front of it, turned to face him and reached for the bottom of her shirt, pulling it over her head. Just like that, he had his answer. He turned the extra lock on the door so that no one, even if they had the code, could get inside.

“No one can get in unless we want them to?” she asked, eyes on him, on his body. She was turned on and tuned in. “You have a condom, I hope.”

#

“Never leave home without one,” he said, leaning against the door, his hand on the doorknob behind him, the other arm across his chest, cool and relaxed except for his eyes, which were a whirlwind of green.

“Good, then,” she said.

What a way to get over Houston
, she thought as her hands went to the waistband of her skirt, watching his eyes focus on her hands like a laser, or one of those T. rex dinosaurs in that movie
Jurassic Park
, silent and watchful, listening for the sounds that will help it zero in on the location of its prey with a single-minded sense of purpose.

She slid her skirt down her legs, leaving the front of her G-string visible, baby blue in color, matching the bra she wore on top. She watched his eyes darken. Good lord, maybe he was the answer to her prayers, ’cause that was one powerful look of lust he’d handed her. She turned for him then, heard him suck in air at the back view of her.

“I could marry your ass,” he said, and she giggled, looked back over her shoulder at him, smiling at the sight of him standing there, one hot male, his eyes smoldering and glued to her ass. She dropped the bra and stepped away from her skirt.

“Does this happen a lot with you? Women you meet for the first time hook up with you in this trailer?”

“If they all looked as good as you do, hell yes, it would, but it’s mostly men who come here to play when they’re on vacation at the state park and are sick of family time. I’m not into men,” he said, eyes burning holes into her skin. “I can’t remember the last time I played with a woman.” He held out an arm, his palm facing forward, to stop her from turning around to face him.

“Don’t turn around just yet,” he said, moving over to her now. He reached over and pulled his shirt over his head en route, then unsnapped and unzipped his shorts, stepping out of them. His eyes were glued to her ass the whole time—he didn’t want to let it out of his sight for an instant.

He pulled his wallet from the pocket of his shorts.
I only have one condom, so I’d better use it wisely
, he thought as he took it out and slid it over the part of his body that could probably hammer nails if called upon, so worked up was he at seeing this beautiful sight before him.

She felt him at her back now, his stomach, smooth and muscled, against her, his hips behind hers,
and
…her thoughts trailed off. His hands were on her hips, holding her in place as he pushed his hips into hers and moaned low in his throat at the contact. His face was in her hair, near her ear, so she could hear his sounds, the change in his breathing, the soft moans that escaped his mouth as moved his hips, sliding his member along the seam of her ass.

He kissed her neck then, softly, while his hands moved around to cup her breasts. He pulled, tugged, kneaded them before they moved down to skim her waist, to hold her hips to his again, while he ground against her, again and again, then his hands were back up to her breasts, setting little fires as they moved over her skin, his mouth still at her neck, sliding across the back of her skin, setting little fires there too. She could probably come from the sound of his noises alone, his groans of pleasure and the changes in his breathing, the soft catches, the soft panting, and that didn’t even account for the way his hard body felt against hers.

Having a hard time breathing, she reached around, wanting to touch,
needing
to touch, but he’d pulled his hips away from hers, just out of reach of her fingers, preventing her from making contact, and he chuckled at her whimper of loss. His hand found her sweet spot then, and she almost came unglued. He’d gone right to it, like he’d been there before. Nope, he hadn’t needed to figure out where to touch her, no groping around like he was in the dark looking for the light switch, like some men did. He was spot-on, sending waves of pleasure through her with each movement of his finger.

She closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, pushed her body into his, trying to get away, but he wouldn’t let her. He just kept smoothly, softly moving his finger around and around in her, and then pressed hard until she came a few moments later, standing on her tiptoes with the power of it.

His hands were back at her breasts again, squeezing, tugging, and then all over her body, like she was a map that was his only path home. His hands moved over her hips, glided over her thighs, bending her forward so that he could touch her all over, and his finger found her again, and she was coming before she knew it, hands up above her head, reaching back to hold him to her as she tried to catch her breath.

He nudged her forward then, on legs that could barely support her slim frame, moving her along with the thrust of his hips, his hands on her, kissing her neck, and then he turned her to face him, kissing her hard on her mouth, like he was in a hurry now. He moved lower to take one of her breasts into his mouth, found her spot again with his hand, and started moving that damn finger again, and it wasn’t even a second before he had her coming. She moaned and held on to his arms like he was a life preserver.

He turned her then, her back to him again, pushing her with his hips until they reached the edge of the sofa. She guessed that was their destination, ’cause he stopped pushing.

She opened her eyes, wanting to see where they were. He had her bent at the waist, lying over the arm of the sofa. Her face was now resting against the couch cushions, and she couldn’t see, couldn’t move. He was bent over her now, his body holding hers down, and his hand at her core, again, oh God, she couldn’t come again, could she? He was unrelenting as he moved her toward another climax that was a mix of too much pleasure and a little bit of pain, and she screamed this time when she reached it.

He spread her legs then, rubbed hands on and over her ass, kneaded it, a hand gripping each cheek tightly, rubbing, tugging, and smoothly caressing in turns. He spread her legs and lifted her hips up a little higher on the arm of the chair, seeking a perfect position, she guessed. He thrust into her with enough force to lift her off her feet, and then pulled his hips back and thrust into her again and again and again and again, lifting her to the top of her toes each time before pulling out, only to thrust into her again.

“Oh God,” she said into the couch, feeling the stirrings of another climax. She closed her eyes, lost to nothing but this, him in her, pushing her up, again and again, and how he managed to hit her nerves from this position, behind her, minus his hands, ’cause they were clamped tightly on her hips, holding her in the position he wanted. She couldn’t move, could only lie there and take him, and “Oh…” she moaned when he pushed back in again, the moan continuing as he hit her spot with every powerful thrust of his lean hips, and she came again, sending her cries into the sofa’s cushions.

He continued his thrust, in and in and in, faster and faster, and then he groaned, loud and long, but he kept at it, how long she didn’t know—one minute, two—the thrust of his hips into her over and over, the sound of bodies slapping against each other, mixed with their labored breathing the only sound in the room. In and up, and he moaned, his forehead pressed against her back now, teeth clenched together. Still, he continued to slam into her, hips moving to the sound of some silent beat that only he could hear, in and in, and he groaned again, held himself stiff over her as he came, putting his head down against her neck, letting his climax race through him while he continued to push into her, like he was trying to climb inside her body, bringing her to another climax.

#

He collapsed onto her back a few minutes later; it was all he could do, needing a few minutes to give the parts of himself that had scattered at his climax time to settle back into place.
What the hell?
he thought, trying to catch his breath.

He stepped back eventually, but he didn’t know if a minute had passed or ten before he managed to lift his body from hers. He helped her up, and when she turned to face him, he could see the same feeling of whatever this was, whatever had come over them reflected in her eyes. He pulled her to him, arms around her waist, and kissed her. Who knew why, but it was a soft kiss, meant to convey deep appreciation and wonder at what had just transpired between them.

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