Play Maker(65)

But when I opened it, I found Nicole standing on the doorstep. She was holding a bag.

“Hi,” she said, looking adorably nervous. And hot as hell. I practically did a double take at the red dress she was wearing. It was tight and short and extremely low cut. I wanted to dive right into that cleavage.

But I didn’t want to get ahead of myself.

“Hi,” I croaked, finding that she had left me a little breathless. “Would you like to come in?” I asked, feeling like a bumbling teenager on his first date.

She nodded and brushed past me, the scent of lavender drifting behind her.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” she told me, looking over her shoulder.

“Thanks.” I assumed that she had seen the press conference, but this was not the response I had been expecting. Not that I minded. The view was fantastic. That dress was going to be burned into my memory for years to come.

“I’m glad to see you.” I closed the door and when I turned, she was gone. It took a moment to find her but when I did, she was in the bedroom, staring out the enormous window that looked out onto the ocean.

“It’s beautiful here,” her voice was quiet. I noticed she had put the bag down next to her.

“Nicole—” I crossed over to her. “I am so sorry.”

She took a deep breath and turned to face me.

“You really hurt me,” she confessed, and I could see that hurt in her eyes. It made my stomach twist to know that I had caused her such pain. “I thought you had betrayed me.”

“I know,” I reached out and smoothed back her hair. “I should have stopped the whole Play Maker thing a long time ago.”

A smile lifted the corner of her mouth. “It is a ridiculous nickname.”

I held up my hands. “I didn’t come up with it.”

She arched an eyebrow at me, and I relaxed, now seeing playfulness in her gaze.

“I would have come up with something much cooler.” I promised her. “Like, Sexiest Man Alive.”

“Ha!” She snorted.

“Or, Best Legs on the Field.”

Nicole rolled her eyes.

I grew serious. “Or The Sorriest Wanker That Ever Lived.” I took a deep breath. “I promise you that I will never give the paparazzi any reason to photograph me. Unless it’s for doing something really, really awesome. Like saving kittens from trees.”

“Or helping foster kids,” Nicole added, her lips now curved in a familiar smile.

“Or that,” I agreed. My pulse was racing. “I would never, ever betray you,” I said earnestly. It was important that she knew that. And I felt a weight lift when she nodded.

“I know,” she said. “For so long I’ve been afraid. Afraid of letting someone new into my life. And then you came along and suddenly all of this—” she gestured to the space between the two of us. “Was more than I knew how to handle. But now—”

I took her hands. “Now?”

Nicole lifted her eyes to mine. “Now I think I’m ready to let you in. Really let you in to my life.”

My heart felt like it was going to burst, but before I could kiss her, she had pulled her hands from mine and was bending to pick up the bag she had left on the floor. She handed it to me. It was heavy and when I looked inside I saw there was a bottle. I pulled it out, along with two glasses. It was the cognac I had given her after that first night together. Unopened.

“A housewarming present,” Nicole said.

I quickly opened the bottle and poured us two glasses.

“Cheers.” I clinked my glass against hers.

But she didn’t drink. “We should toast to something,” she told me.

“Ok.” I took her hand. “Let’s toast to love.”

She peered up at me through her lashes and I could see that there were tears sparkling in her eyes.

“To love?”

I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her to me. “Because I am in love with you,” I told her, my eyes never leaving hers. “Completely, utterly, wonderfully in love with you.”

“Well that’s good,” she whispered. “Because I’m in love with you, too.” And then she tilted her head up and kissed me.





39





Nicole





It was unlike any of the other kisses we had shared. This one was sweet and tender, his lips firm against mine, his hand on my back. I felt safe and loved and happy. And I wanted more. Parting my lips, I licked into his mouth, enjoying the way his grip tightened on me. His tongue found mine and I tasted heat, my skin warming, my pulse quickening. James pulled away, his eyes burning with need.

“Have I mentioned how much I love that dress?” he asked, his voice low.

“This old thing?” I teased, swiveling my hips against his.

He groaned and I felt his cock harden, our bodies pressed close together.

“Might I recommend something?” His lips were close to my ear, his breath hot on my neck.

“Anything.”

“Let’s see how good it looks on the floor.”

Sliding his hand up, he found the zipper and slowly eased it down, the stretchy material gaping to expose my back. My naked back. After all, this dress was too tight to wear a bra. Or underwear. Stepping away from him, I handed him my glass and let the red fabric drop away.