Below the Belt(33)

“Okay,” he said hoarsely. “Yeah, that’s sexy. I see the appeal.”

“It’s all about the rip.” She ran her hands down his chest, thumbs dipping into his navel for a moment. “And you’ve got to be careful. If you get caught up on a boob or an earring, it’s game over and you spend the next ten minutes trying to get unstuck or cutting your shirt off.”

“You know this from experience?”

“Girls talk.” She pressed a finger to his lips when he would have made a joke. “No more talking for you, though.” Her hands ran down his chest, nails scratching lightly. “I’m about to tell you something, and I hope you’ll understand what it means when I do.”

He hissed in a breath when she skirted around, but didn’t pull down, the waistband of his pants. “I’m a smart guy . . . most of the time.”

“Hmm.”

He wasn’t sure if that was an agreement or disagreement, but when the button to his jeans popped open, Brad wisely chose to give exactly zero f*cks about which.

“You’re my first.”

At that, his eyes flew open. “Beg pardon?”

“My first athlete,” she corrected, smiling a little. Then she bent and pressed a kiss to his sternum. “I’ve never gotten involved with someone I was working with before.”

When she looked up, the teasing light was gone, replaced with a more sincere hope. And he was pretty sure he followed along.

“I get it. This isn’t a habit.”

She nodded.

Threading his hands through her hair, he pulled her close for a kiss. Of course it wasn’t. Nothing about them, about their spark, was normal for him, either. He’d never felt this pull before with a woman. Never realized that there would be a single person on the planet that would call to him without saying a word.

Love? No. There was no love at first sight. He would never buy it. But recognition? In spades. He recognized her, and she did him. They met each other on a level above normal interaction.

Unwilling to follow that rabbit hole any farther while the object of his thoughts was currently topless and straddling him, he pulled back and waved down his torso. “You can continue.”

She sent him a saucy grin. “Oh, can I? Maybe I should just get up and get dressed instead.”

When she started to throw one leg over him to leave the bed, he grabbed her waist with both hands and held her firmly down. “No way. You’ve got the anatomy training. Tell me what happens to a man with blue balls?”

“If he’s wise, he suffers in silence,” she said dryly, but finished unzipping his jeans and pulling them down. There was little art or grace to the movement, and he muffled a laugh when she nearly stumbled out of bed tugging the jeans over his knees. But he let her do it her way. The look of satisfaction that gleamed in her eyes when she dropped his pants on the floor was more than enough reward.





CHAPTER


10


Without Brad even prompting, Marianne pushed down her pants, revealing she was pantyless beneath. When he raised a brow, she shrugged. “I was going to bed, remember? You’re the one who showed up uninvited.”

“I did. And you’re welcome.”

She slapped his thigh as she crawled back up. She tried crawling on her hands and knees like a cat, but the sexy effect was ruined when she let out a horrific snarl and bit at his ribs. He yelped and rolled, which hurt his knee, and he groaned.

“Okay, okay, sorry. Bad joke.” Missing that the groan was from pain and not from the bad imitation of a panther on the prowl, she massaged the tops of his thighs for a minute. That seemed to soothe the dull pain a little, though not enough. If she asked to switch positions, he was a seriously dead man.

Toying with the band of his boxers, she let one finger trail down to the fly opening and graze his cock. His entire pelvis twitched with need. She smiled from her perch above him. “You’re really at my mercy here, aren’t you?”

“Turnabout’s fair play,” he growled, but let her have her fun. It was more amusing than he would have considered, being in bed with a woman who considered fun to be a part of the pleasure. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been with someone who’d done more than lie back expectantly. “But just so you know, if you’ve got some condoms in that dresser, you should probably have them ready to roll.”

She glanced at the nightstand and nodded absently, pulling his boxers down over his cock at the same time. “Sure thing. They’re right . . .” She stroked her fist over him from root to tip once, then froze.

If he hadn’t been clenching his teeth against the sensation of her soft hand around his shaft, he might have laughed at the stricken face she made. “What? Jesus H., what?”

“Condoms,” she whispered, then her eyes darted around the room. “Where the hell are the condoms?”

“You said they were . . .” He slapped a hand over the top of the nightstand, making the alarm clock rattle. But she was already gone, jackrabbiting off the bed and into the attached bathroom so fast he knew she didn’t hear him finish, “. . . right here.”

“I’m still not fully unpacked,” she said, voice muffled. If he had to guess, he’d say she had her head stuck in a cabinet. “I put most of the stuff away, but the nightstand stuff was in a box by itself, and my mom was over here hovering while I unpacked and I wasn’t about to open that up while she was around and . . . ah!” Emerging, still naked, she grinned foolishly and held up a strip of condoms. “We are cleared for takeoff.”