Love and Other Games (16 page)

"I've wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you," he said, holding her down on him, making it difficult for her to move, which she desperately wanted to do.

Yeah, he wanted her all right. He wanted her naked and in his bed. That was it, and she wasn't delusional enough to think otherwise. She wouldn't allow her mind to wander with thoughts of being the first and only woman to make Cole want to settle down, and she definitely wouldn't allow her mind to voice the one thought that truly terrified her: that she was starting to fall for him. No, this was just sex. Nothing more.

Brenna cupped his face with her hands and nipped at his lips as she tried to rotate her hips—to no avail. "Stop teasing," she whined. Cole gave her what she needed: several fast thrusts. Then he stilled again.

"More," he groaned as he stood. She kept her legs around him while he awkwardly made his way into the bedroom. "I need more, Brenna. I need to feel you, all of you." He laid her on the bed and removed himself from her body.

The lack of contact, the sudden intense feeling of emptiness hit her harder than a runaway freight train. She wanted to reach for him, to pull his body back down on top of hers, but she was paralyzed by her thoughts: If this was how she felt now, how was she going to feel when the Olympics were over and they parted ways never to see each other again? She mentally chastised herself for allowing Cole to get to her in that way, for letting her guard down and getting emotionally caught up with a man who clearly didn't want anything other than sex. That's just who he was. She knew that going into this.

"You are so beautiful," he said as he kneeled on the bed between her still parted legs.

She'd been so consumed with her own thoughts she hadn't seen him get a condom or put it on, but one look at him and she knew that's exactly what he'd done. Her heart beat loudly in her chest as she watched his mouth get progressively closer to hers. Kissing him would never get old. Then she felt the exquisite thrill of him filling her so completely—in more ways than just the physical. He kept his weight in his arms, his hands on either side of her head, and his upper body poised over hers. It wasn't enough. She needed to feel the warmth and strength of his body fully pressed to hers. Brenna's fingers dug into the hard flesh of his biceps as she attempted to pull him down on top of her.

As if knowing exactly what she needed, Cole gave it to her. She wrapped her arms around his back and tucked her feet under his ass, riding the sinfully rhythmic motion of his hips. "Brenna," he murmured, lowering his mouth to her neck, peppering it with kisses before dragging his lips back to hers. "God, baby, you feel so good."

She half moaned half groaned. No man had ever called her baby before, not even her last long term boyfriend. The sound of it, soft, needy, filled with affection, had her throat constricting with the threat of tears. Each whispered word he spoke; every gentle kiss he gave had a devastating effect on her. What they were doing wasn't having sex; they were making love. It was so far from what she expected from Cole that she wasn't really sure how to comprehend it. She'd expected something frenzied, animalistic almost. Not something soft and caring. Not something that was both physically and emotionally satisfying. What the hell had she gotten herself into?

"Open your eyes for me, darlin'."

It wasn't a request she could deny, and when she opened her eyes, she was a little surprised to see him staring at her so intently. His eyes weren’t the same sparkly green they normally were. They were darker and wolfish with hunger, yet there was also something calming about his gaze. She lost herself in him. Totally, completely, and without regret, she gave everything she had to this man. And Christ if he wasn't doing one hell of a job chipping away at the barrier she'd worked so hard to keep in place to protect herself from men like him. He was single handedly annihilating all of her defenses, leaving her raw and exposed to him.

"That's better," he said with a faint smile.

"Cole … yes … " Had sex always been this good? Or was it just the man she was with? No, it was all Cole she decided.

He took both of her hands and pinned them above her head, intertwining their fingers, effectively preventing her from being able to touch him. That did not please her. But then he steadily increased his pace, sending her careening toward the edge, and she forgot all about wanting to course her hands up and down his back, of wanting to feel him shudder beneath her touch. Moments later she lost what little control she had left. Cole's name fell from her lips as a wailing moan. They succumbed to their orgasms, leaving them both sated and exhausted; and leaving Brenna with one all-consuming emotion: love.

Cole released her fingers and slid his hands down the length of her arms, letting them settle on the pillow by her head. He buried his face in her neck, breathing in deeply, memorizing her scent and every curve of her body that melded so perfectly with his. Brenna stroked his sweat dampened hair and neck, bringing a sense of calm over him. He could stay here like this, with her, forever. The thought was terrifying. Sure, he was all for a little bit of cuddling after sex, but no woman had ever made him long for that seven letter F word like Brenna did.

"Mmm, that feels good," he said in response to her fingers tracing lazy circles on his shoulder blade. He made no attempt to move, and she gave no indication that she wanted him to, either. He kept his face buried, though, because knowing how he felt; he couldn't bring himself to look at her, to see the lack of any emotion in her eyes except that of sexual gratification, of course. No, he had to get his shit together before he did or said anything stupid.

"That was incredible," she said.

"Yes it was." He smiled into her neck, and then gave her a few lingering kisses just below her ear. What he really wanted to say was that she was incredible, the most incredible woman he'd ever met, but he refrained. "So tell me," he said, adjusting his body so that he could look at her. "Do you still think Olympic athletes are a bunch of spoiled rotten, self-obsessed, over-indulged rich kids who do whatever the hell they please without any regard for anyone else?"

Brenna laughed. "Yes, but my opinion of you is starting to change."

Well, that was something at least. "For the better, I hope."

"Definitely for the better," she said, lifting her head and capturing his lips.

He kissed her with an easy laziness, his tongue rolling over hers like a slow-moving river. "Who was he?" he blurted out before he could stop himself. He mentally cringed. Post coital cuddling was one thing. Pillow talk was another. The first he was happy to do. The latter he avoided like the plague.

"What?" she asked, giving him a quizzical look.

Too late to take it back now. "The man who hurt you. I'm guessing he was an athlete based on your strong hatred of them."

She shook her head. "Do you want to know about the man who broke my heart or the man who biased me against all athletes?"

His eyes widened with shock. There were two different men? That shouldn't surprise him. Brenna was a smart, beautiful woman with a lot to offer. Of course she'd been with more than one man. That shouldn't bother him nearly as much as it did. "Both," he said after a moment.

"It was my brother, Brendan. He was a swimmer, a damn good one, too. My father was obsessed with getting my brother to the Olympics, and he succeeded. But in the process, everyone and everything fell by the wayside, including me and my mother. The world revolved around Brendan. My father didn't know I existed except for when he required us to go to the Olympics with Brendan. We had to pretend to be the perfect, all American family for the press." She sighed; then laughed. "Talk about a ruse."

"Brendan Jessup is your brother?" Why hadn't he made the connection sooner? "The press had dubbed him as the next Michael Phelps."

"Yup, they sure did. And that only fueled my father's obsession. I hated being forced to go to the Olympics that year. Everywhere I went I saw spoiled athletes acting like drunken college kids, doing whatever they wanted, not caring how it affected anyone else. They all reminded me too much of my father and my brother. I swore never again."

"Yet, here you are." He eased out of her and adjusted his body so that all of his weight wasn't on her, but he didn't move off her, either.

"Here I am."

"Why?"

"My boss didn’t give me a choice."

"Remind me to thank him for that.'' She rolled her eyes and smiled. Cole laughed. He loved her smile and her snarky attitude and her sense of humor and her … whoa! Did he just … loved? Holy fuck, he was in some serious trouble. Shaking the thought from his mind, he said, "And the man who broke your heart?"

"His name was Dave." Her voice took on a sad tone; one that he could tell was deep and painful. "Not much to tell, really. It's your typical story. I loved him with all of my heart, and he loved to sleep around. I came home from a shoot one day and caught him in bed with our neighbor." She frowned. "I knew how he was when I met him, and I thought I could change him. It was stupid. People don't change."

No wonder she was the way she was. And no wonder she'd fought this attraction between them. Cole sighed, rested his forehead on hers, and closed his eyes. His heart constricted, and then broke as the truth of the situation settled over him. He was everything she hated. "People can change," he said, opening his eyes and lifting his head. He wasn't sure if he'd said it for his own benefit or hers. But he knew he had to make her believe that. He just had to. Otherwise, he didn't have a chance in hell of winning her heart. And he wanted that more than anything because her body alone wasn't enough.

"Would you?" she asked.

"Would I what?"

"Change. If you met the right woman, would you change for her? Would you give up all your philandering ways?" Her tone was mocking and playful.

"Absolutely," he said without hesitation.

Brenna stared at him with a strange look, as if she didn't believe him. "She'd have to be one hell of a woman to tame the likes of you."

Cole grinned. "I agree." One hell of a woman—that's exactly what Brenna was. She was smart and funny and sexy and she frustrated him to the point of driving him insane. He'd never taken the time to imagine what the perfect woman would be like, but if he had, it would be everything that Brenna was.

She laughed. "And there's that arrogance you're so famous for. I thought you'd lost it for a moment."

"Never." He smoothed the hair from her face and kissed her softly on the mouth.

"Good." She smiled against his lips, and then parted them for him, welcoming his tongue and his kiss.

"What about you?" he asked in between kisses. "Would you change your stubborn ways if you found the right man?"

"Despite my stubborn ways, I'm a hopeless romantic, Cole. I want a man to sweep me off my feet. I want a man who will love me, and only me, unconditionally. I'm just smart enough to know that will probably never happen."

It would happen, and he would be the one to make it happen. He'd never been surer of anything in his entire life. Cole would sweep her off her feet so hard and so fast she wouldn't know what hit her. And then there'd be no way she could deny him. But first, he had plans to spend the rest of the night exploring and enjoying every inch of her body.

***

Brenna hated to admit it, but she was excited by all the pomp and circumstance surrounding the start of the game the following day. The crowd was alive with anticipation; the press circled the rink like dogs chasing a bone, hoping and waiting to get a good shot or an interview with one of the athletes. Personally, she was having trouble standing still, too. Cole and his team had worked so hard to get here. It was the final game—the game that could win them the gold. And they all deserved it so much. She wanted them to win.

The announcer introduced the USA Olympic hockey team, and Brenna raised her camera, poised and ready to get some pictures of the team entering the rink. Cole was the last one onto the ice—he always was, but instead of following his team to the bench, he skated toward her. She slowly lowered her camera and stared at him with disbelief. He removed his mask and smiled at her—the same smile he'd given her on the plane. It was sexy as hell and just as mischievous. Her heart raced and her insides were on fire.

"Cole, what are you doing?" she whispered, her eyes darting from him to the rest of his team and back to him.

"This," he said leaning over and capturing her lips.

He had such sway over her and her body; she was helpless to stop him. All around them, cameras flashed, forever memorializing the moment that Cole Campbell chose to kiss a woman instead of showing off for the crowd. Brenna was suited to be behind the camera, not in front of it. She groaned at the thought of what kind of headlines would be in the papers after this.

When he finally released her lips, he winked and said, "Wait for me after the game. There's something I need to talk to you about. It's important."

Before she could respond, Cole skated away. Brenna stared after him, stunned and speechless. So many things were going through her mind. What could Cole possibly want to talk to her about that was so important? No doubt he was going to let her down gently, tell her that even though it's been fun there was no future for them. She knew all of that already. It had been forefront in her mind since she'd let her guard down and let him into her heart. Yes, she knew where they stood, and she didn't need him to tell her. She didn’t need to stare into his gorgeous face and his dazzling green eyes and hear him say the words. Just thinking about it brought tears to her eyes.

Brenna brought her camera up, thankful she could hide behind it, and she refocused all of her thoughts and energy on doing her job. Too bad for her, the press had other ideas. They descended on her like a swarm of locusts, snapping pictures of her and shouting questions. "No comment," she repeated over and over again until the buzzer sounded, indicating the start of the game.

That little episode only drove home what she already knew: she and Cole weren't a good match. No matter how well they clicked in the bedroom, that's where things ended. Cole was reckless. He had no problems throwing caution to the wind if it meant he could have a good time. He thrived on attention. Brenna, on the other hand, preferred to fade into the background, to live a safe, careful life.