Winning Love (9 page)

“Let’s finish this,” he held out his hand.

Ah, well.

Taking his offering, she squeezed as a burning stung the back of her eyes. This had been a very difficult decision for him. So many questions filled her, wanting to explode from her mouth, but she pushed them back. After her family died, she’d hated being asked questions, being put on the spot, while the person asking stared expectantly at her. She’d sworn she’d never do it to another human being. Maybe one day Mac would open up to her. Until then, she’d be what he needed.

Someone to bring a little fun back into his life.

That, she could do.

She tugged her hand free, swatted him on the ass, and ran off. A chuckle followed her and she smiled. The distress of the moment had been broken, and they’d veered back onto the happy course. Mac fell into stride beside her. They came to an assortment of ropes hanging from a tree. People were using them to swing across a muddy water-filled pit.

“Ladies first.”

Mud caked her hands and the rope from the amount of people who had swung across before her. “We’re not making it across the water. You know that, right?”

“Speak for yourself. You look like you could use a good bath, anyway.”

She struck an attitude. “Oh, really? Is that a challenge?”

“Sure. Why not?”

She eyed him. “Okay. Whoever makes it across without falling in gets to make the other do something.”

“Like?”

“Open game, handsome. The something can be issued anytime, anyplace, anywhere.”

His gaze lit with something resembling mischief. “I like those conditions.”

“We have a deal, then?”

“Oh, yeah. We have a deal.”

Without waiting, she jumped up, wrapped her legs around the rope, and held on. Halfway across, her grip slipped, but she tightened around the rope and landed safely on the other side. She gave a whoop of victory.

She turned to see Mac holding another rope. He jumped up and immediately slipped off, splashing in the water below. He waded out, then climbed up beside her.

“Hey! You let go on purpose,” she said in mock outrage.

A wicked smile she’d never seen before lifted one corner of his mouth as a twinkle entered his eyes. “You’ll never know.”

Then he was the one to take off.

Stunned, she stared after him. A thrill shivered through her body. Whatever decision Mac had made earlier had released a side of him she couldn’t wait to get to know.

She took off after him. They came out of the trees and she saw a billow of black smoke off in the distance. They must be close to the finish line. They hurdled over hay bales, jumped over a fire pit, then belly-crawled under barbwire through thick mud. Holding hands, they waddled their way across the finish line, laughing every time the other slipped. A volunteer handed them each a medal of completion. As they moved off to the side, Mac wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her toward him. The mud caking their bodies squished between them.

The sincerity on his face made her breath catch.

“Thank you,” was all he said.

She wanted him to kiss her again, to pick up from that very brief but extremely electric kiss from earlier, but he released her and stepped back instead.

“Now, where do we go to clean off?” he asked.

“You won’t get clean clean, but they have hoses over there.” She pointed to an area where a group of people who’d gathered in a huge mudded area were being sprayed with water by volunteers. “It gets the worst off.”

“Come on, then.” As he started off in that direction, he grabbed her hand.

She let him tug her behind him, her heart fluttering. There was something extremely arousing about his large masculine hand swallowing her much smaller feminine one. Hell, mostly it was just the man. Despite all the baggage he carried, Mac had called to her sexual side the moment she’d bolted around the side of the house and soaked him with the water gun. It was taking a massive amount of restraint to keep from jumping the man. Had he been anyone else, she would’ve. But if she wanted Mac in her bed, she would have to let him take the lead and go at his own pace.

They reached the group of runners, and Mac maneuvered them to the middle, then pulled her in front of him. Just because she had to take it slow didn’t mean she couldn’t egg it on a little, right? Get his mind going in the direction they both wanted it to go.

One of the volunteers arched a hose up so the spray reached where they stood. Gayle faced Mac. Inches separated her breasts from his chiseled, mud-coated chest. Tilting her head back, she let the water sluice over her face and upper body, then ran her palm over her neck and chest. She lifted her head, and the air whooshed out of her lungs at the tight way Mac was watching her. Coiled. Ready to pounce.

His gaze clashed with hers, and the heat there almost seared her to the spot. Yet he did not move. Just observed. Keeping their gaze connected, she let a saucy smile come to her lips and she continued to run her hands over the sides of her face, her neck, the tops of her shoulders, her arms, and the upper part of her chest. She kept her movement PG for those around her, but she had no doubt the thoughts going through Mac’s mind were anything but family oriented.

When she had the worst of the mud off her, she bit the bullet and touched his cheek. He jerked but didn’t move away, so she took that as encouragement. She washed away the streaks of mud on his face and neck. The entire time his heated gaze stayed fused to hers as his arms stayed by his sides. Her nipples tightened.

Something she’d thought to tease him with had taken a left turn straight to intense. When she finally got Mac where she wanted him—in her bed—he wouldn’t be skittish like he’d been since she met him. No, the man would be masterful. Dominating. Even when she thought she was the one in control, she wouldn’t be. He’d be.

Sex with this man would be amazing.

“I think you’re clean,” she said. He wasn’t. She hadn’t even touched his torso, but she couldn’t go there.

“Really? I’d say I’m still pretty filthy.” He nodded down to his chest.

The pointed look he gave her ensnared her. It was one of those moments where everything around her faded into the background. All she was aware of was the soulful brown eyes full of heat and promise directed at her, and the way he’d never, not once, during her entire show, taken his gaze off her—and it was too intimate.

She stepped back first. “Nah, you’re clean.”

A crooked smile came to his lips as he took her hand again and said, “Chicken,” then tugged her out of the crowd.

She winked. “Just didn’t want to get arrested.”

Was it really that, or had she simply spent so many years being the aggressor, that she wasn’t sure what the hell to do as the aggressee?

H
er hands on his body had been so fucking hot.

As Mac tugged his T-shirt over his head in the changing tent, he could still feel the warmth of her palms sliding down the sides of his neck. It was like the woman had branded him out there, and he’d wanted to buck and thrash with all the lust her searing touch had brought forth.

God, he hadn’t felt like that in years.

Consumed with raw lust.

He’d let her see it, too. She’d
needed
to see it. He’d made the decision to go all in, which meant no more hesitation with her, and letting the attraction run free. Over the last few days, she’d watched him struggle. She needed to see there was a man underneath all the baggage. A man who wanted her and
would
take her.

He’d gotten a little insight into Gayle from their encounter, as well. She’d read his intentions clearly, had backed off from his challenge. She was used to having the upper hand, probably felt in control of a situation when she was the one leading the reins. Join the club.

They could prove a very interesting combination.

He looked forward to seeing what that dynamic ignited between them.

After he shoved his feet into a pair of flip-flops, he left the tent in search of her. He found her standing by the refreshment tents. She’d changed into a pair of denim shorts and a pink spaghetti-strap tank. She also wore a pair of matching flip-flops. Dried mud streaked her legs.

She turned and their gazes connected. She smiled. “What is it about a man in camo?”

He glanced down at his camouflage cargo shorts. “And here I thought it was the tat.”

“Oh, the tat’s hot, too.” She ran her hand over his exposed bicep.

Seemed she’d gathered her composure again and was trying to take back the upper hand. He’d let her…for now.

“How about we go grab that beer we earned and something to eat?” he suggested.

Her lips split into a pleased smiled. Yeah, she definitely believed she had the upper hand again. “That sounds great.”

Within minutes they were sipping an ice-cold brew. Mac had selected a Polish dog while Gayle had settled on chili. They found a picnic table to listen to the live band. Mac waited for her to sit down, then took a seat beside her, making sure to press his thigh into hers. She froze for a second and shot him a look.

He had to take a gulp of his beer to fight back a chuckle.

This was fun. He liked throwing her off balance. God knew, the woman had kept him on his toes since the moment he’d met her. It was time for him to return the favor.

He leaned over and whispered, “That streak of mud between your breasts is pretty fucking hot.”

Her mouth dropped open and her head fell forward to look at her cleavage, then she gave a sputtered laugh and pointed her spoon at him. “You’re as bad as I am.”

Grinning, he took another swallow of his beer, only to scowl when Milton came and practically sat on her lap. He hadn’t liked the familiarity between the two earlier, and he liked it even less now. And yet, it bothered him that he was bothered by it.

“Hey, gorgeous. How was the race?”

“As exciting as ever. What’s your opinion, Mac?”

“It won’t be my last, especially if Gayle is going to be my partner.”

Milton squeezed an arm around her. “Gayle is pretty damn awesome, isn’t she? She’s run with me on a couple of races over the years. It’s always an adventure when she’s involved.”

Mac tensed. “How long have you guys known each other?”

“What? Two or three years? Gayle taught a seminar a few years ago that I attended. I hung around afterward because I had to get the beautiful professor’s digits.” He grinned like a fool.

“You guys used to date?” He’d deal with the professor part later.

“Used to? Hell, we still hook up from time to time. What do you say, babe, tonight? Nine o’clock. Your place?”

A fiery stab of jealously pierced Mac’s gut.

Gayle slapped Milton on the arm. “Would you stop! His wife of three years is right over there.” She pointed to the dark-haired woman handing out beers. “I met them
both
at the seminar.”

Milton leaned in conspiratorially. “Did I forget to mention she hooks up with me
and
my wife from time to time?”

“For God’s sake, Milton.”

He laughed, then stood. “I’ve got to get back. Glad you
came
, Gayle.” He waggled his eyebrows and Gayle rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

“Don’t mind him. Milton loves to be shocking. He gets a kick out of people’s reactions. He’s harmless, though.”

Mac dropped the remainder of his dog in the container and wiped his mouth with a napkin. Jealousy. What the fucking hell? Gayle wasn’t a permanent. She was a temporary. That was the compromise he’d come to earlier. Keep his distance emotionally, but allow himself to have some fun. Gayle was the perfect person to do that with—but he didn’t plan for this to be any more than a good time while he was here. He needed to tell her that, as much as he needed to remind himself, apparently.

“Hey, what’s the matter?”

“Can we be up front with each other?” he asked. If she didn’t like what he had to say, it was probably better things ended now, anyway.

“I prefer honesty.”

“I’m only here for a few weeks while I help Lance out.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You’ve really been persistent in spending time with me, so if you thought a lasting relationship would come out of this, it’s not going to happen. I’m not looking for one.”

She blinked at him. “Oh my God. Are you serious?”

Her response confused him. “Yeah.”

“Why is it when a man pursues a woman he only wants sex, but when a woman pursues a man, she’s trying to tie him down?” She leaned forward. “Here’s a little piece of news for you, Mac. There are a lot of women out there who aren’t looking for anything more than a good time. I’m one of them. I saw you. Thought you were hot as hell and wanted to fuck you. It’s that simple.”

At her words, he inhaled sharply. God, the woman really did hold nothing back. She’d most likely be the same way in bed. And didn’t
that
thought cause his gut to clench.

“I’ll forgive this one little slipup of yours because I get the impression you have been out of the dating scene for awhile, and I can see why you took my actions the way you did. But, are we clear now?”

He swallowed. “Perfectly.”

She smiled and squeezed his forearm. “Good. Now, what would you like to do with the rest of the day?”

He knew exactly where the day was headed. There’d be no stopping them, and he wasn’t going to fight it. “I want to make you dinner,” he said. And added meaningfully, “At your place.”

Chapter Five

M
ac checked the grocery bag for the fifth time to make sure he had everything packed. Fucking nerves. Since he’d returned from the race, the fact that it’d been years since he’d been with a woman for the
first
time had started to get the better of him. He’d been fine until he’d borrowed Lance’s truck to run to the grocery store to pick up what he needed to cook dinner. Then reality had given him a stinging bitch-smack across the face. Where?

In the condom aisle.

He hadn’t bought protection in over a decade. The wide assortment presented before him had almost made him lose his cool. Glow in the dark? Really? In the end, he’d ended up grabbing a box of extra ribbed. The nerves were temporary, though, a mind-over-matter situation. He always got edgy before he took the walk to face his opponent.

Unfortunately, his need to be prepared had brought forth a serious case of holy-shit-he-was-having-sex-tonight awareness. Made him think stupid-as-shit stuff like, what if he was rusty? Or clumsy?

The hell he would be.

As soon as he saw Gayle tonight, all that raging lust would take control again and he’d dominate the fuck out of her bed. Just as he did in the cage.

Oh, yes, he would.

Damn, he liked this new way of thinking.

While he’d battled his demons on the course, Gayle had become his today—his in-the-moment. She
wasn’t
his future—and thankfully she was on the same page with him about that—but she was a symbol of the future he could hope to have with somebody, someday.

Taking Gayle’s hand had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. But he’d done it. He’d taken one huge step toward letting people into his life again. It terrified the living crap out of him.

The back screen door squeaked open, then snapped shut. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Lance step into the kitchen.

“Hey,” his friend said.

Other than to borrow his truck, he and Lance hadn’t really spoken since last night. Seemed clearing the air with his friend was becoming a constant part of being back in Kansas. “You were right. Gayle’s gotten under my skin, and I was freaked the hell out. I was struggling with my attraction to her.”

Lance regarded him evenly. “All said in past tense. Something change?”

“Gayle took me to a mud race.” Mac exhaled with what may have sounded like resignation, but was anything but. “She has a way about life. She just enjoyed every damn second we were out there. She made
me
want to enjoy it. I hadn’t felt like that in a long time, and I kissed her. It felt good. Right. So, yeah, something changed.”

He waited for Lance to respond, but all he got was a squeeze of the shoulder as Lance walked past. Before he walked out of the room, his friend said, “She’ll be good for you, Mac.”

Staring at the empty doorway, he hoped to hell Lance was right, and this wasn’t the biggest mistake of his life. Taking a steadying breath, he gathered up the bags and started the trek across the field.

As he reached the edge of her yard, Gayle stepped out onto her porch and an unfamiliar sensation squeezed inside his chest. A smile tugged his lips. Just like that, the hours of edginess were gone.

“Hey, handsome,” she called.

He strode across the lawn, taking in her pale yellow tube-top sundress. The tops of her shoulders were slightly pink from the day in the sun, and her auburn hair hung freely around their slender curves. He trotted up the stairs, and his grin broke free at her bare feet.

“Hey, yourself,” he said when he’d unstuck his tongue at the tempting picture.

She opened the door and motioned for him to go inside.

The modest living room was decorated in such non-Gayle colors it took him by surprise. “White walls and beige furniture doesn’t seem to fit you.”

The house didn’t have a Gayle feeling at all. No pictures on the wall. No personality. Even the throw rug on the deep cherry wood floor was just a boring mixture of neutral colors.

A chuckle sounded behind him. “Decorating is overrated.” She pointed to her left to another room. “That’s a bonus room. I spend more time in there than I do in here.”

He craned his neck to peer inside. Laptops and a lot of unfamiliar equipment. “Like a work space?”

“Yeah. I really only use the living room when I have Skylar here or watch a movie.” She motioned to the stairs. “Of course that’s the upstairs. Two bedrooms and a full bath up there.” As she walked through the living room, she pointed to a door on the left. “There’s a half bath down here. This is a much smaller place than Lance’s.” She disappeared through a doorway at the back of the living room. “And this is the kitchen.”

Now, this wasn’t so bad. The room still didn’t have a sense of Gayle at all, but he loved the polished wood walls and floor. Very rustic. The actual kitchen wasn’t huge, just a U-shaped setup with a limited amount of counter space. The stove was positioned so when he cooked, he could still converse with someone seated at the table. He placed his bags on the counter.

“I’m starving. What are we having?”

“Baked courgette and wild mushroom risotto.”

The blank expression she gave him had him coughing into his fist to cover a laugh. The woman had no idea what the hell that was.

“Um. Sounds delish.”

“It won’t take me long. I’ve precooked everything except the risotto.”

“Well get to it, handsome. That chili didn’t stay with me long. I’m famished.”

“Can’t have that.”

After she showed him where the cookware was, he went to work heating the chicken stock in a pan, then warming olive oil in another pan. He added the arborio rice with a splash of white wine. While he waited for it to bubble, he was aware of Gayle watching him from the far end of the counter. It’d been a long time since he’d cooked for a woman, and he found he still enjoyed it.

“You know your way around a kitchen,” she mused.

“I should. I used to be a chef.”

A moment of silence followed. He glanced over at her. She was standing up straight instead of leaning against the edge of the counter. She shook her head. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope. Used to be head chef at Tuscany in Kansas City.”

Her jaw dropped. “That’s, like, the most expensive restaurant in Missouri.”

“Uh, yeah, I know.” He chuckled at her dumfounded expression.

She snapped her mouth shut, then shook her head again.
Holy shit.
Gayle Matthews was actually speechless. He never thought he’d see the day.

“And you let me feed you
my
cooking?” She pressed her palms to her cheeks. “
And
it was cold. I’m horrified.”

“If you’ll remember, the cold part was my fault.” He added the heated stock to the rice. “And even cold, the chicken you made was lovely.”

She grimaced. “Yeah, it really compares to the blah-blee-blue you’re cooking.”

Laughter shot out his mouth. “Courgette and wild mushroom risotto.”

“Like I said, blah-blee-blue.” She shrugged. “Okay, shock worn off. I’m going to eat this up for all it’s worth, and considering how expensive that damn restaurant is, I
know
how much this dinner is worth.”

The grin wouldn’t leave his lips as he sautéed the mushrooms. Once he had them completed, he added it to the risotto and sprinkled in the parmesan. He then divided the meal onto two plates, turned, and held one out to her. “
Bon appétit
.”

“This looks amazing.”

And suddenly he was very self-conscious. He wanted her to enjoy it, but what if she didn’t? He didn’t cook much anymore. Just on occasion, like when he’d helped Tommy with Julie. What if he added too much wine or sea salt? “I’m a little rusty. So I hope it’s good.”

The smile she sent him eased his worries. “This is going to be the best blah-blee-blue I’ve ever had.”

She took the plate and sat down at the wooden kitchen table. He took the chair across from her, watching as she dipped her spoon in and took a bite. Her eyes closed and a low moan came from her.

“Now I am
truly
horrified you ate my chicken.”

Relief had him releasing a breath. “Glad you like it.”

They ate in silence, mostly because Mac couldn’t concentrate on anything besides watching Gayle enjoy his food—which she did with the same relish that she lived life. Each bite came with a cock-hardening moan of appreciation and mumbled words of praise. Would she be just as vocal in bed? The idea made him shift in his seat.

After she took the last bite, she dropped the spoon in the bowl. “Handsome, that was delicious.”

“I could tell.” He sent her a cocky smile.

“What in the world would ever make you leave the kitchen?”

All the hot and bothered feeling he’d had over the last few minutes instantly turned to a block of ice. “I wanted to focus on fighting.”

Not a lie, but not the whole truth either.

She tipped her head. “How’s that going for you?”

“Best decision I ever made.” That wasn’t a lie.

“Don’t you miss being a chef?” she asked.

“I miss cooking for others. Not necessarily the working in a restaurant part.”

There, a nice balanced response. He could do this.

“Well, you can cook for me anytime.”

When she stood and reached for his plate, he said, “I’ll get the dishes.”

“Nope, you cooked. I’ll clean.” She took the dishes to the sink. “Do you want anything to drink while I do this? I have spiced rum in the liquor cabinet just waiting to be opened.”

Alcohol sounded good. “Yeah, I’ll take one of those.”

As she added coke to a shot of rum in a tumbler, he leaned against the end of the counter, and when she offered it to him, he sipped while she started washing the dishes. His gaze traveled over her body, lingering on the swell of her hips. She reached for one of the pans and he noticed a dark bruise on the back of her arm, right above her elbow. “Did that come from today?”

She twisted toward him, a question on her face.

He nodded toward the bruise. “Your elbow?”

She tilted up the arm in question. “Oh. Yep. I think I got that one from the wall I slid down. Got a nice big bruise on my thigh, too. Don’t tell me you don’t have any injuries?”

“A couple of scrapes.”

“It’s that fighter’s body of yours. It’s used to taking a beating, and something as simple as a mud race isn’t going to damage it.”

Eyes on her discolored skin, he pushed off the edge of the counter and moved until he stood directly behind her. He ran his fingers gently over the bruise and the curve of her elbow as he lifted his gaze to look down at her. A shiver quaked her body.

“Don’t forget the one on my thigh,” she whispered, turning into him. As she tilted her head back and looked up at him, the invitation in her eyes was unmistakable.

“Where is it?” He reached down to run his fingers over her knee.

She dragged the hem of her dress high up her thigh. A dark bruise about the size of a fist stood out against the creamy skin. He trailed his fingers over it, loving the feel of her smooth skin. He wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her to his chest. With mouths inches apart and her hands on his biceps, they gazed at each other. It was the most intimate embrace he’d been in for so long, he took a moment just to enjoy the feel of her soft, curvy body pressed into his.

Then he ran his palms over her hips, cupped her ass, and lifted her those mere inches to capture her lips in a kiss so opposite the one earlier in the day, it could’ve been given by a different man—and in a way, it was. Unlike before, he was no longer struggling. He’d made his choice. And now it was time to claim his reward.

Her arms wound around his neck, her breasts flattening against his chest, and he swept his tongue past her lips into the warmth of her mouth. A groan erupted from deep inside him. She tasted so good—a mixture of the food he’d made, and something more, something uniquely Gayle.

Her flavor was intoxicating, addicting. Hauling her up his body, her gorgeous legs instantly wrapped around his waist, bringing her center to rest on the rigid strain inside his jeans. He took the few steps needed to press her back into the counter. As he ground his cock against her, he moaned into her mouth. Holy fuck, that felt good.

He propped Gayle in the corner of the counter and ripped his mouth away to look at her. Lips swollen, eyelids heavy, breathing rough. All from his actions. God, she took his breath away.

Now he wanted to hear her. Tugging the tube top down, generous breasts bounced free, nipples puckered into tight, perfect tips. He circled one with his tongue and was rewarded with her sharp, uneven gasp. Fingers cleaved through his hair, holding him there. As he sucked one nub deep into his mouth, he worked his hands under the skirt of her dress and found the elastic band of her panties. He tugged them over her legs and let them drop to the floor.

Now it was time to see exactly how uninhibited Gayle was.

He’d never shied away from sex. Seemed four years of celibacy hadn’t changed that. He wanted her open to him, wanted to be confident she had no modesty when it came to bed games. He raised his head, gaze locked with hers, as he lifted one of her legs and planted her foot to one side of her on the counter. When he reached for her other leg, a naughty smile curved her lips—and froze him in place.

Gayle slowly lifted her leg herself, spread her thighs, and placed her other foot on the other side of the counter. Mesmerized, he watched her grasp the fabric of her skirt hanging between her thighs and slowly draw it up to her stomach. And she was exposed. Pink, wet, with a narrow strip of hair.

“Fuck, woman,” he growled, unable to take his eyes away.

“Have a taste, Mac.”

Oh, yeah. She was definitely just as free sexually as she was with life. A thrill shot through him straight to his cock, hardening it even more.

Lowering his head, he took his first sample, the equivalent of a nibble, but it was enough to wrench a moan from her. Needing to coax more of those delicious sounds out of her, he sucked her clit into his mouth and circled it with his tongue. His actions didn’t go unrewarded. Listening to her was so fucking hot, it spurred him to increase the aggression of his mouth and tongue, and to thrust fingers deep inside her. As she came against his lips, the harsh moan of her orgasm filled him with pure male satisfaction.