Playing it Cool (Sydney Smoke Rugby) (7 page)

Where the hell this would end up, Harper had no idea. More mutual masturbation? Or further? Wherever it was, she was pretty sure they’d just coasted on past Platonic-land.

“How do you win?”

“How do you not?” he joked, but he sobered as she shot him her best
be serious
face. “First one to naked is the loser.”

Harper calculated that since she had one more piece of clothing than him, he’d probably be the first one naked. He was good, but she was better. It was a risk she was prepared to take to see him in his birthday suit.

Sure, she’d held his cock in her hand, but she’d seen precious little of him, considering. He’d seen a hell of a lot more of her through the open zip of her overalls.

“Turn the lights out while I set it up.”

If she had to lose her clothes in front of him, she wasn’t going to do in the bright splash of the overhead light.

“How will I see you?”

“You’ll see enough,” Harper said, setting her chin.

She may be doing something crazy and spontaneous, but years of self-consciousness about her body were hard to overcome, no matter how much Dex seemed into her.

And there was nothing as flattering as low light.

…

Dex groaned when Harper drew first blood in the second minute. She whooped and grinned at him. “Take it off, rugby.”

He laughed as he hauled his shirt over his head. It was hard not to, seeing her utter glee, but he needed to pay more attention to his big head instead of the expectant buzz coursing through his little one if he wanted to keep his wits about him and his clothes on for longer than five minutes.

He’d been disappointed when she’d wanted the lights out, but the glow from the television screen was enough. In fact, the low light was kind of romantic, playing as it was in her hair, and shadowing the V of her chest not covered by T-shirt. It fell against the jut of her breasts, the line of her arms, and the dark denim of her thighs.

If she hadn’t eaten off her very distracting lip gloss a couple of hours ago, it would probably be reflected in that, too.

This night was about to become a whole lot more interesting, and he, for one, couldn’t wait. Ever since their rub and tug sessions the other day, he’d been dying to get her naked.

And horizontal.

God, he doubted he’d ever played as hard as he had last night on that field. The thought of Harper naked on her couch watching him, touching herself, had put a rocket on his feet and a motor in his mouth. He wasn’t usually very vocal during a game. He had a job to do, and he just put his head down and did it, leaving the directions and rallying up to others.

But last night he’d been animated, desperate not just to win but to score as many tries as they could. Desperate to score one himself so the camera would zoom in on him and he could stare straight into it, and through it at Harper.

It had been a tough game and a loss was always hard, but at least this one came easier knowing that while
he
may not have scored,
Harper
sure as hell had.

“We going again?” he asked as she sat there, the game waiting patiently for her to restart it as her gaze roamed his chest. He resisted the urge to puff out like a peacock under her scrutiny.

It may have been dark, but he could see the flare of heat in the golden brown depths of her eyes, could hear the slight roughening of her breath as it fell from slightly parted lips.

Her stare slammed into his groin and jolted through his dick like an electric shock. He was stiff as a pike in seconds.

“Hmm?” She glanced at him with what appeared to be difficulty. “Oh…sure…yeah.”

Dex suppressed a smile as the game restarted. He hoped she was distracted enough to make a mistake with the game, because he meant to have her clothes off as quickly as goddamn possible.

Within a minute he’d taken down one of her guys. “Your turn.” He smiled, his heart thudding against his ribs, his mouth salivating at the thought of seeing her breasts again.

She hesitated for a moment before standing and peeling herself out of her jeans. It hadn’t been the move he’d thought she was going to make, but he wasn’t complaining as the lines of quad and calf were revealed for his viewing pleasure. She had the legs of an Amazon—long but sturdy, the muscles solid, the thighs kissingly enticing. Legs that would grip a man’s waist and hold him in deep.

She was fucking Xena, warrior princess.

He caught a glimpse of rounded booty and black lace riding up butt cheeks before she quickly plonked her ass back on the couch.

His brain temporarily flatlined, but then they were off again, and Dex was determined to get her naked. Gaming wasn’t instinctive to him. There hadn’t been video games in his house growing up. Hell, there’d barely been enough money for food. He’d gotten into the scene late. A lot later than Harper, clearly, who took down another of his men after fifteen minutes of brilliant, methodical, relentless play.

Dex’s hands trembled as he peeled his jeans down, a thrill of anticipation shooting through him. He was conscious of cool air relieving the building heat in his thighs and cooling his groin. Conscious of her head being level with the thick press of his erection against the fabric of his briefs.

Conscious of her deliberately averted gaze.

He wondered if she’d be so proper when he was completely exposed to her view.

Blood pounded thick and hot through his system. He could almost feel it surging through his neck and chest and groin.

As it happened, she lost the next man and her T-shirt came off. She didn’t stand this time, just lifted it over her head to reveal a matching black lace bra before quickly restarting the game with absolutely no comment. Unfortunately Dex couldn’t afford to take his eyes off the screen for even a second to check her out because he was damned if he was going to lose his last piece of clothing before she’d at least lost that bra.

It took another ten minutes of furious play for him to kill another of her guys. He was breathing hard by the time the shot hit its mark. From the mental exercise. From the thrill of the chase. From the high-octane sexual anticipation.

This time he did look. Wild horses couldn’t have stopped him.

“You want some help with that?” he asked, as her hands slid around her back to the fastening of her bra.

“This would be a good time to do the gentlemanly thing and avert your eyes,” she suggested, her voice husky.

“Are you kidding?” he murmured. “I’ve been fantasising about what’s in that bra ever since the day of the overalls.”

Dex swore he could see a splash of colour darken her cheekbones, despite the poor light.

“They look better
in
the bra.”

“Oh, baby.” Dex shook his head. “I can absolutely guarantee you they do
not
.”

She hesitated for a beat or two then flicked the clasp open, letting the straps fall down her arms before she tossed the bra away.

His breath hissed out as her breasts swung free. She didn’t try to hide herself but she didn’t look at him either as he ogled them like some horny teenage boy salivating over his first girlie magazine. They were big and soft, the glow from the television accentuating the uptilt of two hard nipples, appearing mocha in the low light.

Saliva coated Dex’s mouth as he remembered how good those nipples had felt against his tongue. Hell, he wanted to throw the controller down and devour every inch of them.

Every inch of
her
.

“Let’s play,” she said, still not looking in his direction.

Dex had barely gathered his wits when the game started again and within seconds his next man was dead. She whooped and turned a victorious smile on him, making an
L
on her forehead with her thumb and forefinger as she beamed at him.

She was magnificent, the state of her undress temporarily forgotten in her triumph.

He grinned at her. “I think you may just be the perfect woman.”

“Oh?” She kicked up an eyebrow.

“Curvy,” he said, his gaze drifting to her breasts then lower to her hips and belly and lower again to follow the line of her thigh, “
and
kick-ass. My two favourite traits.”

She grinned at him. “That’s game over for you, rugby.”

“You’re right.” Dex stood, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his Calvin’s, restrictive against the urgent push of his erection.

“No,” she said hurriedly, the controller clattering to the coffee table as she reached out to still him with a hand on his arm. Her breasts jiggled with the movement, and his dick bucked at the sight. “No need. The win is enough.”

“Oh no,” he shook his head. “You won fair and square. To the victor the spoils.”

Chapter Six

Before she could utter another word to stop him, or draw breath to change her mind, Dex peeled his underwear off. He almost groaned as his cock sprang from the constriction of fabric. It felt so damn good to set his junk free, sticking out hard and potent in front of him like a goddamn divining rod sensing a nearby woman.

He glanced down at her, suddenly nervous at her reaction. Would she tell him to get dressed and get out? Or would she reach out and touch him?

To his relief, she didn’t avert her eyes this time. On the contrary, she was looking her fill, her mouth slightly parted. Dex’s balls contracted. Her head was about a foot from his cock, and all he could think about was her saying she should have gone down on her knees for him.

He ached to feel her mouth pushing down the length of him, the hot clamp of her lips, the light scrape of her teeth, and the hollow of her cheeks as she sucked.

“So, we’re not doing the platonic thing, then?” she asked, dragging her gaze off his cock for a moment to meet his eyes.

Dex chuckled. “All my good intentions seem to disappear around you.” That should be panicking him. Dex always meant what he said to women. And he never changed his mind.

Harper Nugent seemed to be the exception.

“I think you may just be the perfect man,” she whispered.

Dex smiled. “Oh yeah?”

She nodded, her gaze lighting again on his dick. “Big.” She flicked her gaze upward. “And kick-ass.”

He chuckled, but then she wet her lips with her tongue and the laughter ended on a strangled groan.

“Bring those spoils over here,” she said, crooking her finger at him.

Dex’s heart punched like bullets into his rib cage, and his legs almost gave way as he willed them to move. One pace brought him level with her, and it was all he could do not to push her back against the couch and devour her.

“What do you want?” Her voice was husky as she slid her hands onto his thighs, and Dex shivered at her touch.

He shrugged. Just looking down at her like this, her face upturned, her long dark hair falling down her naked back, her breasts thrust out and tipped in a golden glow from the television, was driving him crazy. “They’re your spoils.”

She wet her lips again, and it took all Dex’s willpower not to swoop down and crush his mouth on hers.

“I want to know.”

Dex shook his head. She’d be shocked if she knew the things he wanted to do to her. “Trust me.” He reached his hand out and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You don’t.”

She dug the pads of her fingers into his thighs and the sensation streaked straight to his balls, sizzling hot at the base of his spine. “Humour me.”

Dex locked his gaze with hers. He could see fever glint in their depths. The kind of fever that heated his blood and stirred deep in the muscles of his inner thighs.

She wanted to hear the words…

“I want to strip that underwear off you. I want to lay you flat and bury my head between your thighs and stay there until you forget the name of any other man who’s ever gone down on you.”

He trailed his fingers along her jaw, not trusting himself in this moment to not follow through on what he’d just described. His thumb rubbed at the full, soft crescent of her bottom lip.

“I want to kiss you until we both can’t breathe. I want to push your gorgeous breasts together and thrust my cock between them until I come all over them. I want to look down and see your mouth around my dick.”

Dex sucked in an uneven breath. He was dizzy with the images bombarding his mind, intoxicated by the possibilities, by the things he wanted to do to this woman.
With
this woman.

“I want to turn you upside down and inside out with wanting me. I want to bend you over the arm of this couch and fuck you until you’re begging me to stop. Hell, I want to bend you over every goddamn piece of furniture in this place.”

Dex stopped, the breath thick in the back of his throat, his mind swirling into an abyss of devolving scenarios. Ropes, paddles, wax encrusted nipples.
All that
Fifty Shades of Grey
shit.
He wasn’t into pain—hers or his. But the way she was looking up at him, her pretty, wet lips parted and so very near, was fogging his brain with reckless lust.

“Well all right, then.” It was gratifying to hear her voice was as husky as his. “How about we start with this one?” She moved swiftly, her mouth sliding down the length of his cock in one purposeful movement.

“
Fuuuck
,” Dex groaned, grabbing for her shoulders as his knees threatened to buckle.

She withdrew, swirling her tongue around the head before plunging onto him again, her fingers digging into his thighs.

“
Yesss
,” he hissed, his eyes shutting. “Fuck. Yes.”

And she did it again and again, sure and slow and thorough, her mouth just the right amount of wet, applying just the right amount of suction.

She did it until he was dizzy with pleasure. Until the centre of his universe narrowed to the point where her lips met his dick, and all sensation burst from that point only, streaking heat and pleasure in waves up his torso, down his legs and driving it deep into his buttocks, wrapping silken fingers around the base of his spine and squeezing, sparking red-hot need all the way up to the base of his skull.

She moaned her own pleasure, her hands sliding around to the backs of his thighs, urging him closer, taking him deeper, and Dex groaned as the head of his cock hit the back of her throat.

“Harper,” he murmured, his legs trembling and his glutes clenching as he prised his eyes open, looking down at her.

Her eyes fluttered open, and their gazes locked as she continued to work him.
Fuck.
He pushed the wavy curtain of her hair back. A hand clutched at his gut and squeezed hard. Dex hadn’t seen anything more beautiful than her looking up at him, her bare breasts swaying as his cock slid deep into her mouth.

And he was hit with an overwhelming urge to be inside her—over her, on top of her. He wanted another part of her clamped around him as his building orgasm hit. He wanted to
kiss
her as he slid inside her body. He wanted to cover her mouth with his and mingle her cries with his own as they came.

God knew, her blowing him like this was tempting. He was about as turned on now as he’d ever been, and for damn sure he hoped that she’d do this again, but…not this time.

With supreme effort he pulled his dick out of her mouth, taking a half step back in case he was tempted to just plunge it back in there again and to hell with it.

“Dex?” She blinked up at him, looking a little puzzled and confused, her mouth so damn wet, her lips dark and full from the sucking.

She looked lust drunk and needy. Wanton. Like a fucking goddess.

And
he’d
done that to her.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his heartbeat galloping as emotion erupted in his chest and fogged his senses. He swooped down to claim her mouth. To taste it. To lick it. To devour every swollen millimetre of it. His fingers ploughed deep into her hair, and she moaned against his lips as he kissed her harder, hyperextending her neck in his greedy demand for more.

“Lay back,” he panted, breaking away finally.

“Condom?” She was panting, too.

He nodded. “In my wallet. I’ll get it. You…” He reached down and pinged the side seam of her underwear against the flesh of her hip. “Get out of those.”

Dex turned away, groping for his jeans on the floor, the sounds of Harper squirming around on the couch behind messing with his fine motor control. He located his wallet quickly and grabbed a condom. The foil packet slipped out of his hands twice, and he cursed it under his breath.

In rugby, Dex was known
worldwide
for his sure, safe hands. Someone threw him a ball and he never let go of it—not even in rainy conditions that made grip nigh on impossible. But right now—as he dropped the condom for the third time—a small square foil packet was absolutely defeating him.

He steadied himself and took a slow deep breath, trying to still the fine tremble of his hands and clear some of the sticky fog of desire from his brain.

It worked. He grabbed hold of the condom, ripped it open, and had himself sheathed in seconds. Which was just as well because when he turned back to the couch, what he saw just about caused him to lose his load on the spot—a buck naked Harper on her knees, leaning over the high arm of the couch on bent elbows, heavy breasts swinging free. The glow from the television accentuated her tan, the river of hair flowing down her back, and the round globes of her ass pushed enticingly in his direction.

She was looking over her shoulder at him. “Is this okay?”

Dex blinked.
Okay?
She couldn’t have been any more okay had she been dipped in marshmallow and rolled in coconut.

“Uhh…” At least Dex hoped it came out as that, instead of the
uhmphgng
it had sounded like in his head.

“Well?” Harper smiled, arching her back as she angled herself up onto the palms of her hands and wiggled her ass. “Are you bringing your spoils over here, or am I going to have to start without you?”

That pulled Dex out of his inertia and had him striding the two paces to the couch. “As tempting as it is to stand here and watch you getting off”—he sunk a knee down on the sofa’s edge—“I need to be inside you more.”

The front of his thigh fit along the back of hers as Dex stroked a hand up the furrow of her spine. She shivered as he pushed her hair aside and it slid over the shoulder closest to the couch.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, brushing his mouth up the path his hand had just taken, from the small of her back to the first notch of her nape. Goose bumps buzzed his lips, and she moaned long and low when he swiped his tongue up the side of her neck.

“You make me feel beautiful,” she gasped, reaching both hands behind her to plough into the back of his hair and anchor his front to her back.

Her chest opened up and her breasts thrust out enticingly as his other knee hit the couch. Their thighs nestled together as the rock hard length of his cock found the cleft of her buttocks. Dex ground against her as he slid both his hands up her stomach and over her ribs to claim her breasts.

“Fuck, I love these,” he groaned in her ear, still grinding as he squeezed the lush flesh in his hands and pincered the hard peaks of her nipples between thumb and forefinger. She bucked and cried out, and he taunted them some more just to hear the noises she made—the breathy pants, the whimpery moans—and know that it was he who caused them.

“Dex…please,” she begged on a hoarse moan, her hips rotating in an agitated rhythm to the slow grind of his cock.

She sounded as desperate as he felt.

“Shhh,” he soothed, his hands falling from her breasts and feathering down her body as he eased away from her. Her hands fell from his hair as his trailed to her back, urging her gently down over the arm of the couch again, his thighs bracketing hers. She went eagerly, falling onto her elbows as if she could no longer keep herself upright.

God
, she was magnificent. Her rich brown hair tumbling over the straight plains of back, the hourglass curve of her waist flaring out to the buxom line of her hips, her ass jammed into the cradle of his pelvis and
perfectly
splayed.

Her tiny waist leading to the rounded flesh of her butt was dizzying. He grabbed a cheek in both hands and kneaded.

Vigorously.

The arch of her back, her answering moan almost brought him undone.

“I want to…” Dex sucked in a breath. God, he didn’t know where to start. He vibrated from toes to scalp with the need to
possess
, his heart galloping in his chest. He wanted to kiss it, lick it.
Bite it.
He wanted to grip it hard as he hammered into her. He wanted to feel it move and clench with every thrust and slam of his body.

He shifted slightly to rub his cock up and down the slick folds of her sex. She gasped this time, rotating her hips.

“Yes, yes.
Please, Dex
. God, yes.”

The urgency in her voice, the throbbing in his groin, the roaring in his blood reached a crescendo that could not be denied, and Dex swiftly notched himself at her entrance and thrust.

Her head reared back, and they both cried out as he pushed high and hard inside her. Neither moved for long moments. Dex just breathed, absorbing the tumble of sensations before primal instinct kicked in demanding more.

“Christ,” he murmured, sagging against her back and planting kisses down her neck. He wondered if she could feel the frantic punch of his heart. “You feel good.”

“You feel
big
,” she panted, amusement lacing her voice as she flexed her pelvis a little.

“Jesus.” He gripped her hips, holding her tight against him as her internal muscles massaged his cock. “Do that again.”

She laughed and undulated muscles up and down the length of him again. “Yoga,” she said. “Great for the pelvic floor.”

He laughed. “You want to know what else is good for the pelvic floor? Orgasms.” And he withdrew his cock almost all the way before sliding in again.

“More fun than yoga,” Harper moaned as she pushed back, inviting him in deeper.

Dex followed. He couldn’t not. And then there was no more talking as the spark caught and the rhythm of their bodies took over. Instead, he tuned into the saw of his breath and the wash of blood through his ears and the unbearable ache in his balls. Into the incoherent noises falling from her mouth and the delicious tightness of her and the glorious shift and clench of her ass with each flex of his hips.

But soon it wasn’t enough. He needed to touch her, all over. He needed more skin on skin. He needed his mouth on hers. Not missing a beat, he slid his hands from her hips around to her belly and then up—up her stomach, over her ribs, urging her against him as he thrust in and out, rocking her body with each jerk of his hips.

Finally his hands found her swaying breasts, and she gasped as he cupped them. “Yes,” she moaned as his fingers taunted the nipples to stiff points.