Game, Set, Match (A Humorous Contemporary Romance) (Love Match) (6 page)

In a blink, he perused her willowy, half naked form. Dark hair and pale skin gleamed in the moonlight. She’d left the shirt unbuttoned at the bust line, perhaps in the hopes of creating cleavage. It didn’t work. But it’s not like models were known for their bust lines unless they worked for
 
Victoria’s Secret
. She was gorgeous and elegant and sexy.

Yet, he didn’t want her. He’d made this date before he’d seen Izzy again, and now, all he wanted was her luminous dark skin under his hands, not Delilah’s.

As she drew closer to him, his nostrils filled with the scent of expensive perfume. Her arms looped around his neck, and she whispered, “How come you’re out here all by yourself? I could have come down with you.” She indicated the leather upholstered benches. “We could have christened those.”

He gulped past the lump in his throat even as he removed himself from her embrace. “We already did remember? Those used to be on the balcony.”

Her brow furrowed as she stepped into his space, again she trailed fingertips down his torso. “That may be, but didn’t anyone ever tell you, to christen things properly, you need to do it at least twice?”

Damn
. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed the fevered attraction he’d felt for her when they met at Mr. Chow’s six months ago to overtake him. Now, all he felt was mild affection. She wasn’t Izzy.

If he felt like this already, and he’d only seen her once, he was in for a world of trouble.

“I think I might have heard that somewhere before.” He stroked Delilah’s cheek with his finger. “Tell you what, why don’t you head upstairs to my bedroom. I’ll use the outdoor shower to clean up, and I’ll join you in bed.”

A small pout marred her otherwise perfect face, but she didn’t argue. “Okay, but don’t make me wait too long.”

He nodded his acquiescence even as he did a mental calculation as to which guest bedroom had an extra pair of clothes for him to wear in the morning, so he didn’t have to wake her by going into his room when he woke up. She’d be disappointed, but better that, than he attempt to sleep with her while he imagined Izzy, beneath him, on top of him, in front of him. It was a recipe for torture. Not like he hadn’t done it before, but he was too tired for charades.

He turned on the shower and hissed a curse as ice water sluiced his arm. As he sent a silent prayer that the water would warm, he unfastened his brace. Only one more day, and he could toss the albatross. Unaccustomed to the weight, his bad leg wobbled, but he remained upright as he scooted into the stall.

Stars illuminated the sky and winked at him as the water ran through his hair. He saw his bedroom light fade out just as he finished. His cock twitched in hopeless protest as the wish of accessible pussy winked out with the light.

As if on cue, his mind went to the one place he didn’t want it to go. The vision of him and Izzy in her storage closet fanned his memory before he could prevent it. Every muscle he had tensed at the recall of her body molded to his, at the memory of her movements against him. The hitch he’d heard in her voice, the way her pupils dilated.

Shit
. He’d never get any sleep this way. Wrapping his fist around his cock, he pumped the soap slickened flesh in a slow, deliberate motion. As blood surged to his groin, he pictured Izzy on her knees before him, all that glorious hair slicked back with water as she wrapped those luscious lips around him.

He could almost feel her tongue lap the length of him before circling the tip in a deliberate motion. He could feel her delicate hands, wrapped around his girth as she stroked in time to her suckling mouth.

Blood roared through his head. He slapped a hand against the shower stall to steady himself against his release. He bit off a stream of colorful curses as he dragged in gulps of air. He had to get Izzy Connors out of his head before she completely derailed his comeback.

Chapter Five

Izzy knew what obsession was. Knew the pain, joy, danger of it. But it didn’t stop her rebellious brain from keeping up with the obsession. She couldn’t take her mind off of him. The way he smelled, felt, sounded. And she, like a fool had wanted to fall for it. 
When did I become a masochist?

The way he’d held her as if they were the only two people in the world. That was classic Jason. She coaxed her previously focused, normal, non-obsessed brain into this parody of a working one. The way he’d brazenly asked her to play. Who said that? She could just imagine what game he wanted to play. He may have substituted the word tennis for sex, but she knew him better. She’d played before, and lost.

As hard as she tried to focus, she couldn’t drag her mind back to work. Though, she supposed, if she had to choose between Jason’s unceremonious reentry into her life or Sabrina’s, Jason’s was marginally more welcome.

Over the years, avoiding him wasn’t an issue. They moved in vastly different circles. Los Angeles could be as immense and limitless as any galaxy. The only time she’d been unable to avoid him was televised tennis matches. She no longer played, but Nick did. And, as her bad luck would have it, he idolized Jason.

What she needed was a serious distraction. Maybe it was time to refocus her energies where they belonged, with Simon. With someone who was dependable and stable, and didn’t say inappropriate things to her about coming to play—

Jessica interrupted her thoughts. “Your new Canon came in.”

She looked up from the paperwork on her desk to see Jessica shifting from foot to foot in the doorway, excitement vibrating off her body.

“And are you going to tell me the deal with tall, blond and hot enough to melt in your mouth?”

Izzy worked to keep her grin under wraps. Jessica had shown remarkable, uncharacteristic restraint through a night of Arts and Tarts, the cleanup afterwards, not to mention taking pity on Izzy’s world weary appearance last night. But now, it was morning. And she wanted answers.

Only, Izzy didn’t want to talk about Jason. He already occupied far more of her brain power than she cared to admit. She considered exhaustion as an excuse but Jessica held the camera package in her arms, and Izzy had been waiting for that camera for weeks.

With a deep sigh of acquiescence, she mumbled, “There’s nothing to tell.”

Jessica placed the FedEx box on a shelf and plopped herself in the guest chair. Delicate, pierced eyebrow raised, she wouldn’t let Izzy out of her trap. “Don’t lie to me. You’re terrible at it. I caught you two in the closet having a moment. A blind man could see the sizzle between you. Not to mention, I know you never miss one of his matches. Give me the
deets.”

Izzy cringed at her exposed secret and stood up to inspect the package on the shelf. She fiddled with the box, but resisted the urge to tear it open like a kid on Christmas. It’s not like she had the time to play with it anyway.

“There was no sizzle, no tension. Nothing happened in the closet. He stopped a box from falling on my head. That’s all.” Hand on her hips, she huffed. “We’re old friends. That’s it. In fact, I wouldn’t even call us friends. More like acquaintances.” Her fingers played with the tape on the box as she angled her head to give Jessica a look. “And I don’t watch all his matches. I do happen to love tennis, you know.” She rolled her eyes for exaggerated effect, before she added, “Besides, isn’t he getting married to that actress, the tiny, pert blond one?”

Jessica leaned forward. “The plot thickens. What’s the matter,
Iz, jealous? Are you two lost lovers?” Jessica rubbed her hands together with maniacal glee. “Even better than I imagined.”

Izzy laughed and shook her head. “No plot. Just…” Izzy’s voice trailed off as she searched for the right word.
“Friends. Never lovers.”

Not for lack of trying.

Jessica shook her head. “Even if I believed that, which I don’t, but if I did, that doesn’t change the fact you need to get some, and he’s clearly interested. Even daft Simon couldn’t have missed that. And I heard what he said about going to play at his house.” She shivered. “So hot. I’d be more than happy to go and play with him.”

“A, I do not need to get some. B, he is not interested. Trust me. And C, have you forgotten Simon and I might start something?
 
And
 see earlier comment about Mr. Hot Enough to Melt in Your Mouth getting married.” She sighed. “And don’t call Simon daft.”

Jessica snorted a dismissal. “When are you going to realize that you and Simon have no future? He’s not what you need, no matter how much he insists he is. And that you can’t believe everything you read in a trashy tabloid.”

“This from the woman who lives and dies by Perez Hilton.”

“Answer me this, Batman. Does Simon make you feel the way that Jason did yesterday?” Jessica continued to give her stern look, and Izzy grew warm under her discerning gaze. She didn’t want to talk about Simon. Not with Jessica, certainly not with Jason.

She’d played Jason’s conversation through her head since yesterday. How dare he question her relationship with Simon? Her relationships were her business. He’d opted out of her life years ago.

Izzy stiffened her spine. “What is your problem with Simon, anyway? You act like he’s this major troll, but he’s not. He’s very attractive. For Pete’s sake, he looks just like Blair Underwood.”

“And he knows it.”

Annoyed, Izzy said. “He’s dependable.”

Jessica sighed. “He’s dull.”

Izzy spread her arms. “He’s committed to making something work with us.”

Jessica shook her head. “When was the last time you were with your battery operated boyfriend and fantasized it was Simon? Oh yeah, scratch that, you can’t picture kissing him, let alone doing 
The
 
Do
.”

Izzy dropped her head into her hands and pushed her hair back off her forehead. “Is there any hope you’ll let this conversation go?”

Pink wisps floated around Jessica’s head as she shook it. “Nope. I care about you. You should be happy, and have real love. Not just date the guy who’s convenient.”

“He’s not convenient. He’s great. He—”

Jessica interrupted. “When’s the last time your toes curled? When’s the last time you had one of those passionate, mind-numbing kisses, so good you forgot your name? Can Simon give you that? I’m guessing Jason can.”

Had she ever had that with anyone?
 The answer formed in her mind before she could stop it. Yes. With Jason. Izzy didn’t like where this conversation was headed. It depressed her. “Look, not every relationship is supposed to be like that. We have respect for each other and enjoy each other’s company. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Not if you’re sixty. Even at that, I’m sure Grandma May wants to get some at some point. You can’t have everything in your life so careful and controlled. It’s not good for you.”

“I’m fine. I like my life the way it is. I appreciate your concern, but it’s not necessary. I know what I’m doing.” She huffed. “Besides, I’m about to turn down the job.”

Jessica stood, a frown pulling at her lips. “If you really think it’s best to run away, I can’t stop you. Like I said, I care about you. I watch the way you keep yourself so closed off from people, afraid to make a ripple. You can’t live that way. No one can. Tell me you’re in love with Simon all you want, but I saw that spark between you and the tennis hero. If Simon made you spark like that, I’d stay out of it and mind my own business. But he doesn’t.”

“Jessica, I’m tired. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

Jessica made her way to the door. “Yeah, I hear you. I have a date with Dingo anyway.”

“As in the dingo ate my baby? What happened to the Mormon rocker?”

“I missed my favorite curse words too much. Anyway, back to
you, just ask yourself this, how does Simon make you feel? How did tennis hero make you feel when you went toe-to-toe with him yesterday?”

Alive
. Excited from the minute electrical charges she felt any time he touched her. Weak and jelly kneed as he licked those sexy lips of his and bent his head to kiss her.

But like hell, she’d tell Jessica that. Like hell, she’d let herself remember the feeling. Like hell, she’d let Jason Cartwright melt apart her carefully constructed defenses. She’d work with him because
she had to, but she sure as shit wasn’t going to play with him. He was dangerous to her, but she was ready for him.

****

Would anyone blame him for postponing facing his demons?

Jason had needed to kill a half hour before physical therapy, and he needed to take his mind off of it.
Even if it put him in the direct path of his favorite paparazzi stalkers. The Grove wasn’t normally a Pap hangout, at least not like the Ivy. He flicked through the GQ and paused over a Men’s Health, but instantly put it down when he saw himself on the cover. He knew he couldn’t avoid all media, it was everywhere. He only wished there wasn’t so much of it everywhere. Finally, with another quick perusal, he found what he was looking for. A clue. And there it was.

The sub headline of
 
Life and Style Magazine
 caught his attention. “Shocking scandal from the world of tennis.”