Running Interference (16 page)

“My dad's here,” she said. “With Jace.”

“That's cool.” He rubbed her back, and then gave her a hard look. “It's cool, right?”

“Yeah. It is.” Whatever had brought her father here, he was here, and that was where he belonged. Like Aunt Grace would say, she didn't need to be borrowing trouble.

“Good. Now, tell me you have nothing planned tonight or tomorrow morning, because I have something planned for you.”

“Cam … ”

“What? You've been stressed. I want you to have one night with no worries.”

Her eyes narrowed. That sounded a lot like something mushy and romantic people in long-term relationships would say.

“Fine.” He lowered his lips to her ear. “I want you to be my sex slave for twelve hours. Better?”

“Better.” She grinned.

“Good. Then we have plans at eight o'clock. You hear?” He gave her ass a pat. “I'm going to go have some fun with your nephew.”

Despite the tiniest hint of warning bells, Tanya joined them after she dumped her sparring gear into her locker. Cam was on the bike beside Jace, challenging him to ride five more minutes. MJ was making fun of how small the bike looked beneath Cam's weight. Pure fun.

“Okay. Grandson, come with me.”

Jace hoped off the bike and joined her father.

“That is so cute,” MJ said.

It was, and she hoped it was something she would see for years to come, but the move to Chicago was still hanging over the kid's head. It was yet another reason why she and Terrell needed to pay off the debt and stabilize this place—so Jace had someplace cool to hang when he came back to town to visit his dad.

“Cam, my man!”

Tanya turned to see Terrell walking toward them with a striking, familiar-looking blonde.

“I have someone who wants to meet you,” Terrell said. “This is the one, the only Katerina Kloss, anchorwoman extraordinaire, and former Miss Ohio. Gotta throw that in there.”

He made a cheesy move with his hands, like lights were flashing somewhere, and Tanya rolled her eyes. At her brother. Not at the woman who wanted to meet Cam. She had no reason to do that. Really.

“Wow, that's some introduction!” Katerina grinned at Terrell.

“I'm a fan.” He was practically panting.

Disgusting. Tanya glanced at MJ to see if she was taking this all in.

“And I'm a fan of you, Mr. Simmons.” Katerina held out a manicured hand.

“Call me Cam.”

“Cam.” It was breathy and full of admiration.

Oh barf! The woman could be complimentary without going all fangirl.

“Katerina, this is my sister, Tanya, and her friend, MJ,” Terrell said.

The woman greeted them with a little less excitement than she'd greeted Cam with, but she was still very nice. Actually, she was flawless. Even her hands were perfect. Soft. Not a single workout-related callus.

Suddenly, Tanya had the urge to invite her into the ring.

“So a bachelor auction,” Katerina said. “Tell me all about it, and I'll make sure you get the coverage you need.”

Cam was on like a game-time JumboTron. Bright eyes and killer smile.

“How much are you trying to raise?” Katerina asked.

“Thirty grand,” Cam said.

“Done.” The woman laughed. “I'll write you out the check right now provided you take me to dinner.”

Ooh. Ballsy. Normally Tanya admired that, but not when it was directed at her man.

Her man.
Where had that come from? He was her friend, and her temporary booty call. That was it. And while this woman was flirting with him, she was also offering publicity that could make the fundraiser a success and save Pop's gym. That was what Tanya needed to be worried about, not whether or not Katerina had the hots for Cam. There was no room for jealousy in this arrangement. No way. She wasn't going to start that crap. She'd been the one to say if either one of them developed feelings, they'd take them to their graves. And she was a woman of her word.

“I'm flattered,” Cam said. “But I think a lot of people would be disappointed if we called off the auction now, and a few of them are here. Fellow bachelors, in fact. Let me introduce you.”

Tanya watched them walk away, smiling, talking, and sparkling. “Are you going to follow them?” MJ asked.

She shook her head. Katerina Kloss looked good beside him. “That's the kind of woman he's going to end up with, isn't it?” That was the kind of woman he seemed to gravitate to. Both Abigail and Sabrina looked a bit like that.

MJ punched her shoulder. “Don't make me say I told you so.”

Hell, no.
She laughed, hoping to shake off the icky feelings and spark something she could live with. Something like, “I don't care what that woman does with him as long as she hands him over to me at eight o'clock.” She grinned. “We have plans.”

• • •

Cam rolled up outside the Ritz-Carlton and watched Tanya for any sign of discomfort. He had to admit, this was a little over the top—even for him. But he was tired of folding his big ole body into tight spaces like the backseat of his car and twin-sized beds. And having sex at his mother's place just wasn't working for him.

“What is this?” Suspicion was written all over her crinkled up face.

“Sex.” He grinned. “My way.”

“There better be whips and chains in a room up there, because if I walk into roses and champagne, I'm going to … ”

He slipped a hand to her thigh and squeezed. “You're going to what?”

She smirked. “Maybe think about not coming here with you next time.”

He laughed. “See? I got you hypnotized with this mouth and these hands. I can do whatever I want, and the next twelve hours we're going do things my way.”

“We'll see about that.” But she wasn't exactly protesting.

He checked in, under an assumed name, and declined help with their overnight bags. When the elevator door slid shut behind them, she backed against the farthest wall.

“So, what exactly is your way?” she asked.

Nervous. He liked that. “You'll see.” He kept his hands wrapped around his bag and his eyes on the numbers lighting their way. Let her stew a little. She'd be practically begging by the time they reached the room.

But instead, she was smiling. “You don't have anything planned, do you? You just booked a room because you're sick of squeezing into my small bed or worse, your car. Right?” She poked the ticklish spot on his side. “‘Fess up.”

He squirmed as he struggled to open the door. But she kept the pressure on and only stopped when she saw the suite.

“Holy shit! This is huge.” She stood in the doorway like she was afraid to come in.

He tossed his bag a good four feet to the sofa, and then reached for hers. “I was looking for the biggest bed … and the biggest TV.”

She walked in then, roamed the elaborately furnished, white-and-green room with wide eyes that made him smile. “Good God, this view! The lake almost looks like the ocean.” Then she faced the television. “Wait a minute. Are we going to watch porn?”

Ha!
“Better. College basketball.”

“What?”

“UConn.”

Her face lit up. “Are you serious?”

He nodded.

Those gorgeous eyes pinned him. “What about the sex?”

“We'll get there.” Definitely.

She seemed to think it over. Her head tipped. Her lips curled. “Okay.” But she still looked unsure.

What would it take to bring that last bit of wall down?

Forty-five minutes later, they were stuffed with cheeseburgers and fries from room service, and UConn was down by fifteen.

She wiggled out of the crook of his arm and crawled to the end of the bed, blue-jean-covered bottom in the air. “You want another beer?”

He shook his head against the mound of pillows behind him. He really didn't want anything but this. This was … the perfect life. The stuff that dreams were made of.

She sat, stretched for the remote, and turned off the TV. “What
do
you want?” she asked all sultry and sex kitten-like as she crawled back up the king-sized bed.

He smiled. “What do you think?”

She crawled over his legs, settling her bottom right above his knees, and reached for the hem of her shirt.

He grabbed her hand to stop her, and then brought her palm to his lips. “Not yet.”

She looked confused.

“My way starts like this.” He slid his hands up her arms and pulled her closer to him until they were belly to belly and almost lips to lips. The lemonade she'd been drinking sweetened her breath and made his mouth water.

When he couldn't take it anymore, he cupped her face and pulled her down the last inch.

Like he'd gotten used to these last few weeks, she took control, slipping the tip of her tongue between his lips, and urging him to open wider.

Instead, he rimmed her mouth with his tongue and held her closer, one arm across her butt, the other across her back. Her warm weight sprawled over him. This was how he did it. Slow and long. Like they had all the time in the world.

He smoothed a hand up her back to her neck and angled his head, lifting off the pillows the slightest bit so he could deepen the kiss—at his pace. She responded by shoving her hands beneath the pillows and melting into him.

Mmm.
He got lost in the simple pleasure.

He had no idea how much time had passed before she said, “It's hot in here.”

They laughed, and it seemed like one sound.

He lifted her up and rolled her to the mattress beside him. So beautiful. And he was so blessed. Propped up on one elbow, he unbuttoned her shirt with his free hand, spreading open the plaid fabric over her warm skin. “Better?”

She looked up at him, but didn't say a word.

He unbuttoned her pants and smoothed a hand over her belly, prolonging every movement, even as he was driving himself crazy with need.

Her breath hitched, but her eyes didn't move.

There were feelings here. More than physical ones. And they were big. But he wasn't going to say it out loud. He wasn't stupid. So he shifted his weight and dropped his mouth to her ear, where he nibbled a bit.

Finally, she reached a hand to the back of his head and made him good and hard with a moan.

“It's still hot,” she said.

And between them, it always would be. The question was, what could he do about it?

• • •

He moved in her and above her, and she rose to meet him. Dragging her open mouth down his neck and her fingernails down his back. Squeezing her eyes shut, but unable to block anything out.

This would be the end of it. His way had stripped away more than clothes. And now too much of her wanted too much of him.

Protect this heart.
That was the name of the game.

She managed to make it through the night by rolling to the edge of the giant bed the minute he fell into a deep sleep. When the sun came up, she showered and dressed well ahead of him. Room service and SportsCenter filled the space between them. Although, to his credit, Cam didn't seem to sense the shift. Maybe he hadn't felt it. He smiled a lot, talked a lot too. Then again, maybe this was just the way he was the morning after.

That thought caught in her chest. She'd never had a morning after, never allowed herself to indulge like that. Another first with Cam Simmons. Ha! Why did life torture her like this?

After he dropped her off at her apartment and left her with a brain-draining kiss, Tanya lay in bed, staring at the Yadier Molina poster hanging on the ceiling above her bed. Her next bed buddy was going to be a genuine booty call, and he was going to be a baseball player.

She slid her headphones on and fell asleep to Bruno Mars. She woke to bouncing on the end of her bed.

“Somebody didn't get very much sleep last night.” Jillian looked ready to burst from excitement.

“I don't want to talk about it.”

That did the trick, sucked the enthusiasm right outta her. “Oh.” She frowned. “Damn. That bad?”

That good. “Good or bad doesn't matter. He's leaving. Just like last time. God only knows when I'll see him again.”

“He's not leaving for another week and a half.”

“Why prolong it?”

“Man, you let him get to you, didn't you?”

MJ had told her so.

Tanya's eyes burned.
Bitch, if you cry, I will kill you.

“So you're walking away before he can,” Jillian said. “Are you sure that's what you want to do?”

She nodded. Absolutely. Tonight she would wallow. Tomorrow she would go back to being just friends with Cam.

After the beep, Cam said, “Good Monday afternoon, Ms. Martin. I'm calling to see if I can give you a ride to practice today.” She hadn't been in her office this morning when he'd stopped by after first-period strength training.

A few minutes later, his phone buzzed. But it wasn't Tanya. Katerina Kloss. Again. She'd called three times this morning, and had left one message for him to return her call.

Ugh. He plastered on a smile and said, “Hello.”

“Oh, I'm so glad I got a hold of you. Great news! The sports anchor at my station wants a full segment with you. I was thinking the three of us could go out for drinks and come up with an angle.”

Drinks made it sound friendlier than what he was comfortable with.

“We have the number-one sportscast with the eighteen- to forty-nine-year-old female demographic. Seems like that hits your target audience for the auction right there,” she said.

Bullseye.
“Okay.” But he was doing this for Tanya and her dad, not in any way shape or form for him.

By the time practice rolled around, Tanya still hadn't called him back. Now, he was officially worried. Was something wrong, or was she dodging him on purpose?

“Hey!” he called out when he saw her hit the turf.