Risky Play (Red Card #1)(8)

And in such need of more of his warmth, his taste, that I found myself whimpering when one of his hands brushed across my breast. My body jolted against his in response.

He chuckled darkly against my mouth. “I knew you’d taste like this. Everything about you is . . . on fire.”

I opened my eyes.

His intense gold orbs seemed to swirl before me.

A wave crashed over us and against the rock wall, ruining the moment as he grabbed my hand and dove under water.

I followed him.

And swam to the nearby beach.

By the time I made it to the shore, I was exhausted. I lay back against the warm sand and looked up at the clear blue sky as the sound of waves crashing against the shore filled me with peace.

And then Hugo was blocking the sun with his body as he hovered over me. “This is crazy, right?”

“Crazy,” I agreed.

“Tell me to go back to the hotel. Make me go back to my room—anything, Ashley—”

It wasn’t my name.

I almost winced.

Instead, I kissed him again, and with a hungry growl, he pressed me down against the sand. I could feel his arousal press against my thigh.

I wanted more.

I wanted him.

I wanted to be the woman I saw reflected in his eyes.

Our mouths met in a frenzy as he pulled the string to my one-piece and shoved it down to expose my breasts, his mouth hot, punishing, as he sucked one nipple, then grazed his teeth across it.

Anyone could see us.

And for once, I didn’t care about what people thought.

All I cared about were the sensations he awakened within me.

And the way he made me feel in his arms.

His wet hair slid against his forehead as he moved his mouth, and then kissed up my neck to my jawline. I reached for the string on his shorts . . .

And then he broke the kiss.

We stared at one another.

I was being impulsive.

And stupid.

I didn’t even know him.

I’d known Alton my entire life, and he’d touched my boobs maybe a dozen times.

But this guy? This guy I was ready to just strip and lie down for?

He bit back a curse and blew out a rough exhale. “We should get back.”

Disappointed, I quickly tied my suit back up and nodded.

I could still see how painfully aroused he was.

How much he wanted me.

And I knew it wasn’t a lack of attraction that had him stopping.

But probably because he had more self-respect than I did.

Which seemed to be the problem with the men in my life.

Not that I was complaining.

It was chivalrous.

But sometimes, a girl just wants wild.





Chapter Six SLADE

Self-control was not something I lacked. It had been an essential part of my training since I was a child. My father, a soccer coach, now retired, thanked God when he discovered my skill with the ball.

And ever since then.

It’s been soccer above all else, even family.

It was everything.

Until it stopped making me happy.

Until it became a job.

Until the money became meaningless.

Until I was betrayed by those closest to me.

So maybe my self-control was frayed and well on its way to snapping, and at the worst possible moment in time, alone, on a beach with the most tempting woman I’d ever met.

I don’t know how I stopped.

I just knew I needed to.

Because I was seconds away from being the guy that has random unprotected sex in Mexico like every spring break gone wrong.

And she didn’t deserve that.

Even though I was in physical pain as I pried my body away from her.

By the time we made it back to the resort, night had fallen. I walked her to her door and leaned against the frame. “Dinner?”

She tapped her chin. “Dinner, hmm?”

“Dinner and drinks.”

“In an hour?”

“Of course.” I kissed each of her cheeks, wanting to do more, then pulled away and made sure she made it safely into her room.

When I opened my own door, loneliness descended.

I hadn’t planned on this.

To be thirty and without a wife, kids. Family was important to me. The only thing that rivaled that was soccer, and that was because my father had made it so.

I took a quick shower then checked my cell.

Ten missed calls.

All from my mother, who had been expecting me this week in the States, and one from my dad.

She was worried.

And lonely now that she and my dad were separated and living in different countries.

I was supposed to be in Seattle by now, relaxing before the season.

Instead, I escaped to the first place that caught my eye on the search engine. Maybe it was fate?

I sent off a text. I’m fine, something came up, I’ll see you in a few days.

The next phone call was from my father; he’d left a voice mail. “Look, I know this decision did not come lightly, you love soccer, I love soccer. I don’t want to see you throw your life away, but you’re old enough to make your own choices. I talked with Philamena, and we decided that I will visit for the holidays, but I’ll do the cooking, God knows that woman burns rice because she knows it drives me crazy.” I snickered and kept listening. “I just want you to be happy.”