Challenging the Center (Santa Fe Bobcats #6)(73)

“Sore?”

“Circuit training today. De’Shawn didn’t let me rest. I’m dead. Pulling beer all night is going to kick my butt.”

He walked her to the bed, sat her on the edge, then crawled up behind her so she was nestled between his thighs. Then he began to massage, concentrating on the spots where she moaned louder and attempted to avoid his touch. Those points, he knew, were the ones that needed the massage the most.

“Not fair,” she said on a gasp at one point. “You know how to do this.”

“It’s good for you.”

“But—ow!” She tensed when he hit a particularly sore spot on her forearm. “Most lovers give their partners sweet backrubs, where the point is to seduce.”

“Most boyfriends,” he said, stressing the word, “don’t have girlfriends who are also professional athletes and need more than just a light touch to get the job done.”

“The dangers of dating inside your work circle,” she muttered.

He kissed her shoulder, then her neck, but didn’t let up on the pressure of his fingers. “It’s interesting,” he said, thinking out loud while her head bobbed and swung loose. “The conversation at dinner tonight made me think. I didn’t realize until tonight what sort of benefits there were to dating another athlete… benefits outside of the bedroom,” he added, nipping her jaw lightly.

“Benefits?” she breathed. Her skin turned hot under his lips.

“Sure. The bedroom benefits are obvious. Added stamina, flexibility, strong core for more interesting… positions.”

She made a sound in her throat that might have been a laugh, or a groan, or a mixture.

He kissed below her ear, then nibbled on the lobe a little.

“But there are different plusses I hadn’t considered.”

“Like?”

Her voice was thready now.

“Like, you can relate to me when I talk about the physical side of my job. It’s not just me complaining to someone who feels sorry for me but doesn’t get it. You do. You’re in the gym, same as me, working toward the same goals. You’ll come home with similar injuries. You’ll face PT like I will, coaching worries, travel shit. It’s all stuff that comes with being an athlete that you instinctively know. You can give me a rubdown sometime and put pressure exactly where I need it.”

He did just then, and she moaned and fell back against him as if she’d suddenly become boneless.

“There’s something sort of awesome about that.”

“About what?” she breathed.

He smiled against the skin of her throat. She was putty in his hands. “About knowing your girlfriend not only respects what you do, but gets what you do, on a level you can’t achieve any other way than by doing. You’re a warrior, Kelly. That’s sexy as hell.”

And I’m falling in love with you. Each and every crazy cell of your being.

Of course, he kept that part silent as he let his hands wander up to cup her breasts. If he told her now, she’d bolt. He wasn’t sure he could survive it if she up and left him.

Kat turned then, almost as if she’d heard his innermost thoughts, and kissed him. “Thank you.”

“Thanks for the kiss or the rubdown?” he teased, then quit smiling when she looked at him so seriously.

“Thank you for seeing me as a warrior. That… I don’t know. It means a lot.” She curled a fist by her breastbone as if fighting off an ache. “You’re one of the good ones, Michael Everett Lambert.”

A little piece of him unraveled at that, and he cupped her face and kissed her, pulling her down flat on the bed, and slowly showing her without words exactly how good he wanted to be for her.





Chapter 22





Breathing heavily, Kat patted Michael’s back so he got the message and rolled over, taking her with him. They settled together in bed, sweaty skin sticking to each other. She’d need another shower before work tonight.

“Quit.”

The word was murmured low against her hair.

“I… shouldn’t,” she said weakly. “They’re expecting me.”

“Take Gary’s offer.”

“I want to,” she admitted. “I can’t keep working myself like this. Too old. I’ve already cut back on the smaller tournaments I used to hit.”

“Why?”

She sighed. It was so hard for someone else who made a living in a sport to understand, especially when he was a male, and on top of that, playing a beloved sport that raked in billions each year. “You mentioned we have a lot in common. The whole athlete-athlete thing.”

His hand crept up her bare back, rubbing circles over her cooling skin. The combination caused her to shiver. He rubbed briskly to warm her, then went back to the gentle circling motion.

“But there’s some stuff that we’ll still never relate to. Like travel.”

“We both travel,” he pointed out.

“Yes, but when you need to go somewhere for a game, how does that work?” He was silent. “You show up in your uniform—”

“Suit,” he corrected. “We travel in suits. Uniform is only for games.”

“Whatever. You show up at the designated time and place, you get on a plane—and that’s no commercial airline, is it?”