Taming the Legend (18 page)

Her hand fluttered over her tummy, covering a scar
that he assumed was from her C-section and giving him a hesitant look. “Why are you stopping?”

“Because I can’t believe you’re even more beautiful than I remembered.” She’d always been a beacon of loveliness in his mind. After he’d grown up and gained experience with more women, he’d decided his memories of Camila were rosy-tinged because she’d been his first. But he’d been wrong. She might
not have been as toned or gorgeous as some of his previous partners, but she took his breath away like no one else ever had.

She sat up, her legs widespread and draped over his thighs. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. She sifted her fingers through his hair and tugged just enough to make the pleasure border on pain. “You’re not supposed to say those things to me.”

That was right. She wanted dirty talk so she wouldn’t fall in love with him. “Fine. I’ll tell you this instead. You make me harder than anyone else I’ve been with. When I look at you, all I can think about is how much I want you. You’ve got a smart mouth and I want it all over me. And if you don’t like the things I say to you, you’d better find another way to shut me up because I held myself back
from you before and look where it got us. I learned wisdom through tears, Camila. They may not have been my own, but that only makes them hurt me more.”

Her eyes glistened, and he hated himself for pushing her so hard. She wasn’t ready to hear the truth. She wasn’t ready to cope with his feelings. But
he
couldn’t cope with letting her fool herself into thinking he was just here for sex. He
wasn’t and never had been.

“Damn you,” she whispered a split second before attacking him with that smart mouth of hers.

Chapter Seventeen

Kissing
didn’t describe how she touched him. She ravaged him, tried to consume him. Fury and desire swirled into a great, dark mess inside her, confusing her and spurring her on to make him lose his mind the way he made her lose hers. She gripped his head and smashed herself against him, gripping him with her legs, her arms, and everything in between. He met her
plunge for plunge and groaned into her mouth like a man completely undone.

His erection grew between them. She marveled at it. Either her memory had diminished him over time or he hadn’t finished developing when she’d known him before. Whatever the reason, he was bigger than she’d remembered. All of him—bigger, stronger, bolder, harder. The sight of him made her want to give him everything.
The touch of him made that feeling double in size. And the things he said to her? Maddening. No one had ever said those things before.

But their power came from more than novelty. It came from him. From the fact that he was the one saying them. The first man to teach her she was worthy of respect. The first man to destroy her. Her first lesson in love and loss and agony and regret.

She kissed him and writhed against him. His hands slid down to her ass, his fingertips teasing places that made her squirm and gasp for air.

“I want you, Mila. All of you. Everything you are, I want.” He pressed openmouthed kisses along the sensitive line of her throat, down to her collarbone. She would’ve raised herself to her knees so he could reach her nipples, but her legs had liquefied
and wouldn’t hold her. His erection pressed so hard against her softest spots, the pressure bordered on pain. Her heavy head fell back as he rubbed against her, outside her body but inside her in all the ways she didn’t want him to be. Resurrecting that place in her heart he’d carved out for himself so long ago. The one he’d left barren when he hadn’t written back. The one he’d started to reoccupy
despite her best efforts to evict him.

“Ride me, sweetness,” he whispered against the hollow behind her ear, his rough, shaking voice making her vibrate in all the right spots. “Take whatever you need from me. I’ll give it to you. Everything.”

Desire exploded, supernova bright and so fucking hot she lost all control. Her voice no longer belonged to her. Her body was no longer hers to
command. She cried out in agonized relief and held him tightly when he tackled her to the mattress, rolled the condom down his thick cock and pushed inside her. He filled her so full the ache built up again before the waves of orgasm had completely died down. Before she knew it, she squirmed against the sheets, desperate to get more and more of him. He gripped her hips and thrust so hard her whole
body inched higher up the bed until she nudged the headboard. Shifting his knees back, he yanked her back down, impaling her on him in a spine-tingling, toe-curling move that had her coming again, harder this time, harder than ever before.

And as he pumped into her one last time, held her groin tight against his and shuddered with his own release, she realized something she should’ve thought
of before.

Dirty talk wouldn’t have protected her heart. Nothing would have. She was desperate and doomed because this man tempted her to believe in things she knew were lies. Fairy tales and big dreams didn’t come true for girls like her. Knights didn’t exist in her world, and shining armor tarnished quickly. Fair maidens had to save themselves.

But when destruction felt this good,
why would she want to be saved?

* * *

Ash’s morning erection was cradled against Camila’s soft bum, an unbelievable sensation to wake up to even if he couldn’t feel her bare skin against his. She’d borrowed one of his T-shirts, so the cotton got in his way. He’d tried to convince her the shirt was unnecessary—he’d ended up taking it off her twice in the night—but then she’d admitted
a phobia of sleeping naked. Apparently she’d had to evacuate from a hotel one night, thanks to some drunk guy pulling the fire alarm. She’d ended up standing butt-naked in a parking lot with her then-boyfriend, who’d panicked and rushed her out of the hotel before she could grab anything more than a sock—a sock he then commandeered to cover his dick.

Ash had teased her about her terrible
taste in men before going down to taste her. Hopefully he’d proved that she’d chosen well this time.

She was finally sleeping in his arms again. Anticipation and nervous energy buzzed through him, practically making him vibrate in the bed as his memory taunted him by replaying that first night he’d held her, that night they’d made out on the beach…and everything that had happened afterwards.

Camila hadn’t been eager to go back to her cousins’ house after everything that had happened at the dance club. It was her day off babysitting, but she’d figured she needed to check in so they parted ways long enough for him to go back to his hostel, have a shower and a nap, and not-so-skillfully dodge Hardy’s impertinent questions. Then he met up with her at the entrance to the most bizarre
park he’d ever seen. Perched on a hill overlooking the city and filled with mosaic creatures and huge stone carvings, it was like something out of Dr. Seuss.

He couldn’t touch her enough. They held hands all day. Every innocent brush of her body against his skin ignited adrenaline spikes inside him, the same pulses of excitement and anticipation that he experienced when he lined up in the
tunnel before matches. The first day he’d met her, she’d sat next to him for God only knew how long before he noticed her. If he’d been asked to describe her for a police sketch artist, he’d have said brown hair, fucking brilliant eyes and a one-piece swimming costume. Basically, other than the eyes, she could’ve been anyone. But today he noticed a dozen new adorable things about her. When she flirted,
she averted her gaze, as if to hide her underlying shyness. When she laughed hard, she covered her mouth and let her eyes do all the smiling. When she thought deeply before answering one of his questions, she rubbed her pointer finger across her chin.

She became the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

He’d wanted to have sex with her and he’d wanted to treat her right, not just in bed, but
outside it too. He had ten days left in Barcelona, and he wanted to spend them pretending he could have something he actually couldn’t—a real relationship. So that night, after treating her to paella and sangria in the best restaurant he could afford, he surprised her by handing her an old-fashioned key as soon as her empty dessert plate had been cleared away.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“I’ve moved into a hotel for a couple of nights.” He held his breath, wondering if she would leap across the table to kiss him or punch him. But she sat quietly until he rushed to explain. “I asked them for two keys. That one’s yours. I don’t expect anything in return. If you want to spend the night with me, that’s great. If not, that’s fine too. Totally your choice. But it’s a nice place,
and if you want to escape your cousins for two days, you’re more than welcome. Even if nothing else happens.”

He nearly divulged more details, like how the bathtub could easily fit three people, but he bit his tongue in case she thought he wanted something kinky. He didn’t. He just wanted her.

“I’ve never stayed at a hotel before.” She kept her focus on the key, and her long hair hid
most of her face from him. She rubbed her chin with one finger. She was thinking about it.

“Mila, if you don’t—”

She tilted her head back and hit him full-force with glistening eyes. “I think this is one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.”

“Really?” He couldn’t hide the surprise from his voice.

“Really. Everything. Spending the day together, this dinner, a hotel…a
real hotel?”

“Well, yeah. Why would I spend money on a fake one?”

“I mean, it’s not a motel?”

He’d seen those in American films, but they weren’t as common in England as they appeared to be in the U.S. His family had certainly never stayed in one. As far as he’d gathered from films, motels were the places where cheap sex and murders took place. Trenton family holidays avoided both.

Had Camila been taken to a motel for cheap sex? The thought made him want to hurt someone.

He reached across the table and took her hand. “It’s a real hotel. It’s got a balcony overlooking the Med. And a Jacuzzi tub. There were chocolates on the pillows when I checked in. I saved them for you.”

“Both of them?”

“I don’t eat chocolate. I try to be really careful about my diet,
and chocolate’s lethal to me. If I have one, I can’t stop.”

Her eyes widened. “I don’t think I could give up chocolate for
anything.
”

“It’s definitely the hardest thing for me to give up, but I train hard to be fast and agile. I can’t afford to carry any flab.” He was well fit, and he hoped dropping that little piece of information would nudge her in the right direction.

She got
up and walked around the table until she stood in front of him. He pushed his chair back so she could sit on his lap. Other patrons shot judgmental looks their way, but who gave a fuck? He was holding Camila, and she felt amazing.

“Can I spend the night?”

“Of course.” Again, his brain fired all sorts of questions at him. How had she been treated in the past, if these were her questions?

“I can leave first thing in the morning, if you want.”

He tightened his arms. “Stay the night. Have breakfast with me. We’ll order room service.”

“Room service. Oh my God.” She laid her lips on his and gave him a soft kiss. When she pulled back, she gave him a look so full of uncertainty that he wanted to wrap her in cotton wool and take her away from anyone who’d ever hurt her in
the past. “Are you really real?”

Pleasure rippled through him. Not the sexual kind, but the pleasure of feeling appreciated by someone he cared about. “Yeah. I am. Are you?”

“I feel sorta unreal right now. Let’s go before I wake up and discover I’m dreaming.”

“Do you need to phone your cousins?”

“No. I already told them I’d be out all night.” She reached into her handbag and
pulled out a familiar-looking key. “I checked myself into your hostel for the night.”

That night Ash smiled, laughed and moaned more than he had in his eighteen years put together. Sex with Camila was everything he’d hoped for and more. Natural and easy, yet thrilling at the same time. They barely left the hotel for two days, and they used their time well. Sex in the shower, sex in the tub,
sex on the balcony in the middle of the night…he learned everything there was to know, and he hoped he’d taught Camila a thing or two. Maybe nothing sexual, but something about how she deserved to be treated.

By the time they checked out, he’d racked up a hefty credit card debt from room service and a couple’s massage that had led to the best, slipperiest sex he could imagine as soon as the
massage therapists had left. But he didn’t care about the money. He could pay it off quickly as soon as he started playing for the first team.

He had one week left before that happened. One week before he had to show up at preseason training and devote everything he had to his team. That meant he had one week to devote himself to Camila.

She checked herself in to his hostel, and they
spent their nights snuggled against each other in his sleeping bag. The closeness of her body made him sweat. He ached to get closer but, despite her teasing touches, he refused to have sex with her when others were in the room. Besides, holding her as she slept was nearly as good.

Nearly.

She became all he could think about. Hardy tried to engage him in rugby chat, but Ash couldn’t
give a shit about any of it. He’d discovered a girl who could become his everything, and he obsessed over her.

He’d always been like that as a lad. Whether it was
Star Wars
or rugby or Camila, he developed obsessions that consumed him. His dad had probably been right to worry. How he’d dealt with that worry was inexcusable, but Ash couldn’t fault him for fearing that Camila would usurp rugby
in Ash’s list of priorities.

As a man he’d learned to tame those tendencies. Rugby had reigned supreme in his life for so long he couldn’t imagine anything taking its place. Or, at least, he hadn’t until Camila had literally knocked him on his arse with her hard punch and her soft body.

His mobile buzzed on the bedside table, but he ignored it. After his mum had woken him that one day,
he’d learned his lesson and put his phone on vibrate so he could sleep through it but also be able to hear it if he happened to be awake. The noise must’ve wormed its way into Camila’s dreams, though, because she wriggled closer. He tightened his hold, burrowing his nose against her neck and loving the feel of her whole body waking up. She sighed and threaded her fingers through his. Eyes still
closed, she murmured, “Time is it?”

“Don’t know. Early. Still dark.”

His phone went silent for about a minute before buzzing with another incoming call. Tension gathered in the base of his spine. It could be urgent. He rolled away just enough to grab the phone and see who was calling.

A picture of his old coach Ruud-Boy grinned at him from the screen.

It could be a social call.
A how’s-retirement call. An oh-fuck-I-miscalculated-the-time-difference call.

But he wouldn’t have called twice in two minutes for any of that.

Ash tapped the screen and lifted the phone to his ear. “All right, Ruud-Boy?”

“Trent! Not interrupting anything, am I?”

“Just my beauty sleep.” And the beauty who’d been sleeping now rolled to face him, concern drawing her brows together.

“Sorry, mate. I’ll be brief because it’s going to be a long day for both of us, I suspect. I wanted to let you know I’m handing in my notice. There’s about to be a vacancy for the Legends’ Director of Rugby.”