Game for It: Game for Trouble Part 10

She couldn't stop shaking.

Willow lay in Nick's arms, snuggled against his chest. His skin was smooth, hot and unyielding beneath her cheek, and she burrowed closer, his deliciously familiar scent filling her head, soothing her.

Freaking her out.

What they'd just shared had felt...monumental. Being in his arms again, having him inside her body, moving with her as if they'd never been apart... Like they'd always been together, all these years later.

It was too much. Not enough. She wanted more. She wanted to run away.

G.o.d, could she be more confused?

"I'm staying the night," he murmured, his deep voice rumbling from his chest, vibrating against her cheek. "No way can I get my a.s.s out of bed and drive myself home."

"No, I suppose you can't drive all the way to San Jose this late," she said, sort of put out that he stated he was going to stay versus asked to.

Then again, she also found it incredibly bossy and arousing.

She was sick. Sick in the head. All twisted up over a man who was forcing her to go on dates with him so she could get what she wanted-so that the both of them could get what they wanted. She wanted her business and he supposedly wanted...her.

And then he'd leave her in the dust just like the last time they were together. Was she a glutton for punishment or what? Did she purposely seek out trouble?

That's exactly what Nick Hamilton was. Trouble. He was playing a game with her body, mind, and heart and she would pay the price sooner rather than later.

There was no doubt in her mind.

"You're awfully quiet." He squeezed his arm around her shoulders, drew his fingers down her bare arm. She shivered beneath his light touch. "Tired?"

Nodding, she closed her eyes, her lips brushing against his skin. She didn't mean to kiss him but next thing she knew, she was pressing tiny little kisses all over his chest, licking the colorful tattoo on his pec, tracing his number as her leg curved around his thigh, as she rubbed herself against him.

"Will, I hate to tell you this, but you're acting like a woman who isn't tired at all." The lazy amus.e.m.e.nt in his voice sent a thrill shooting through her.

What the h.e.l.l was wrong with her? Not even ten minutes ago he'd given her the o.r.g.a.s.m of her life. Now she was humping his leg and acting like she wanted to get it on again.

Which she did. Desperately.

"I am. Trust me, I'm exhausted." She rode his leg, shameless with her movements. His thigh was huge, covered in light hair, and solid as a rock. The friction that sparked between her legs with every rub was already pushing her close to the edge.

"Are you going to make yourself come on my leg?" He sounded incredulous.

"Maybe." She bit her lip and closed her eyes, bending her head so he couldn't see her. He just felt so d.a.m.n good, and she was still so amped up. She needed the relief. Badly.

"Well, if you're gonna do it like this, at least let's make it a little more enjoyable." He clasped her face between his hands and tilted her head back, his mouth moving over hers. She sighed against his lips, opening for his tongue, twining hers lazily with his. She rode his leg faster, their kiss becoming more urgent, his fingers twisting in her hair.

"Oh, G.o.d." She murmured the words against his swollen lips, and he shook his head, pushing her off him so he could make a dive for the bedside table. He practically tore the drawer out of its slot in his haste to grab another condom, and she lay back against the pillows, breathless with antic.i.p.ation, enraptured with watching him move that finely muscled body of his.

"No way am I going to let you come like that, rubbing against me like a cat in heat." He slipped the condom on his erection, his expression tight, mouth grim. "I think you're trying to drive me crazy."

More like the other way around. All he had to do was lay there and she became aroused. Like she had some sort of sickness and Nick Hamilton was her only cure.

"I was so close," she said, her voice small.

"And you will be again in a matter of minutes. That I can promise you." He grabbed her by the waist and drew her beneath him, his c.o.c.k poised at her entry. "Sore?"

She shook her head, but it was a complete lie. He'd taken her hard earlier, and she was a little tender between her legs. But she didn't care. She wanted him.

He slid inside her body, groaning at first contact. She stared at him in wonder, loving the agonized expression on his face, his eyes screwed tightly shut, his jaw clenched. Ramming so hard inside her he pushed her up the mattress with his every thrust. Further and further until her head became almost submersed beneath the pillows. G.o.d, he felt so good inside her, despite her earlier soreness.

Laughing, she batted them away, making him still above her as he cracked open his eyes. "Being inside you, I forget myself."

Her heart split open at his words. She parted her lips, ready to toss out some glib retort, but he cut her off.

"Being with you, Will, it feels like...being home." He leaned in, brushed her lips with his, the kiss tender. Full of too much unnamed emotion that threatened to make her cry.

d.a.m.n it, she refused to cry. Not with Nick. This was nothing between them. They were just old lovers who gave in to each other. Old friends who were pretending to go on dates.

Correction. She was being blackmailed to go on dates with him. Why, she still wasn't quite sure. He gave her some song and dance about wanting to be with her, but she didn't believe him. He was just laying on the Nick charm nice and thick to get her naked and into bed.

Second date in and he made it happen. He was more talented than even he probably realized.

"d.a.m.n, you feel so good." He clasped her hands with his and brought them above her head, entwining their fingers tightly. It was yet another connection, another way for her to feel how much he wanted her. She bowed her body beneath his, sending him deeper, making him groan as he rocked within her faster, his movements less controlled. "You with me? You gonna come with me, Will?"

"Yes." She so was. Never had she been a big believer in simultaneous o.r.g.a.s.m but looking at them, their bodies wracked with shudders, the both of them crying out as their climaxes took them over completely. A little cry escaped her, and she tightened her fingers around his, needing him to know how amazing that felt.

Needing him to know how much this night meant to her, despite her secretly believing it was a mistake.

Because it was. It so was.

Chapter Ten.

"You really want our date to be here?" Willow wrinkled her nose as Nick pulled his car into the parking lot of Monterey's Fisherman's Wharf. Another night out with Nick and she kind of felt sad that they were getting closer to his part of the deal being finished. She enjoyed her dates with Nick.

Not that she'd ever really admit it. He'd take that information and run with it. Rub it in her face. Taunt her. He loved nothing more but giving her a bunch of grief.

She thoroughly enjoyed returning the favor.

"What's wrong with it? I love this place. I don't get over here very much, either." Nick pulled into a parking spot and cut the engine.

"It's super cold tonight," she protested. It really wasn't. An unusual heat wave had swept through the entire bay over the last two days, increasing the December temperatures and keeping the sun high and warm in the sky.

"If you get too cold, I'll buy you a cheesy tourist sweatshirt," Nick offered, that easygoing smile seemingly plastered on his face. She was growing quite used to seeing it, not that she'd ever admit that little tidbit to anyone. Especially Nick. "Come on, Will. Loosen up and have some fun. You've been working hard, and you need a break. h.e.l.l, we both need a break. I know this sort of thing isn't your scene, but I bet you could enjoy this date tonight if you just let yourself."

"It's full of tourists." She watched him, the single light that burned within the car's interior casting him in a shadowy glow, looking incredibly handsome as usual. The man was too gorgeous for words, dressed in his plain navy blue sweatshirt and jeans, looking for all the world like a regular guy, not the amazingly talented football player he really was.

"So?" He shrugged, always so casual, so easygoing. He made her feel extra tense and b.i.t.c.hy when he was like this.

G.o.d, she both adored him and wanted to smack him for being so...disgustingly perfect. "Why aren't you wearing your Hawks sweatshirt?" she asked.

He glanced down at his chest. "People will be less inclined to recognize me. The place is full of tourists, remember?"

She thought he was all for being recognized. It drove her crazy, his legion of fans coming at him all the time, yet he seemed to love it. "Don't you think they'll recognize you regardless?" She knew she would. "It's a Thursday night and for whatever reason, the place is packed. Look at this lot."

Cars surrounded them. Maybe there was some sort of event going on, she wasn't sure, but he was right. The Wharf seemed at full capacity, which meant the crowds would be ma.s.sive.

"If I don't make a big deal about it, no one else will either. And no one will recognize my a.s.s. I'm not that important," Nick said.

"Don't downplay yourself," she protested, surprised that he would say such a thing. He was totally important. An integral part of the Hawks team.

She frowned. Since when did she rush to defend Nick? He had a point. She shouldn't want anyone to recognize them. What if her father found out they were seeing each other? She really shouldn't care, but he'd hated Nick all those years ago and wouldn't be a fan now, either. Her dad always expected more from her. And she hated to think it, but she knew Nick wasn't the sort of more her father was talking about.

"Aw, are you defending me, darlin'? That is the sweetest thing I've ever seen." He leaned over the center console and kissed her, his lips warm and insistent, his tongue darting out for a lick. She opened for him immediately, heard him growl low in his throat, and then he was pushing her away, shaking his head. "I'm not gonna get all caught up in those tasty lips of yours yet again, no matter how hard you try to lure me in. Let's go."

Dazed, she watched him climb out of the car and round the front, coming to open her door. She stepped out, secretly thrilled with his gentlemanly manners, with the possessive way he pressed his hand to the small of her back as he guided her through the parking lot toward the Wharf.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea." Panic rose within her and she fought it down. G.o.d, she sounded like a such a b.i.t.c.h, but she preferred staying home with Nick.

Less chance of them being caught together.

"You used to be up for anything, Will. What the h.e.l.l happened to you? You get old and stuck in your ways?" he asked incredulously.

She sniffed. "I'll remind you that you're older than me."

"Yeah, well who's acting like the senior citizen now, huh?" He grinned when she sent him a deathly glare. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

Without another word she let him lead, her brain churning over what she should say next, wishing she could just drop it. At least for a little while. The scent of the sea hung heavily in the air, the cry of the seagulls overhead both irritating and familiar. They circled above, looking for any sc.r.a.p of food they could find-and there was surely plenty, what with all the tiny restaurants that lined the Wharf.

As they drew closer, the mouthwatering scents from all of those restaurants a.s.sailed her, making her stomach growl and her head light. She hadn't eaten lunch today, which was a huge mistake, but she'd been so busy...

"You've stiffened up. Everything okay?" Nick asked as he leaned in close to her ear.

She both loved and hated how easily he read her. "I'm hungry."

"Smells good, huh? I want clam chowder in a bread bowl."

"Oh, that sounds delicious." She hadn't had that in years. It was a calorie bomb ready to detonate on her b.u.t.t. "But I can't. I don't eat that type of stuff anymore." She skipped meals all the time lately-too busy working.

"Why the h.e.l.l not?" He exerted gentle pressure on her back, guiding her through the growing crowd as they walked down the sidewalk toward the beckoning Fisherman's Wharf. "You need to take better care of yourself, woman. That means three square meals a day."

How did he know? It was like he kept tabs on her when she wasn't even aware of it.

"G.o.d, you're bossy," she said with a little groan, secretly pleased he was watching out for her.

"Someone's gotta tell you how to take care of yourself. And three meals a day, enough sleep, and exercise is the proper way to keep you strong."

"You sound like you're in the military, what with your three squares and proper sleep and exercise talk," she returned, slightly offended. She knew how to take care of herself. So she hadn't slept much lately and was working all the time. Big deal. Building a business took everything out of her. She'd have time for sleep later.

"I play for the Hawks. Same diff." He made a face when she glanced up at him. "Not really. I'm not out on the front lines defending our country against the bad guys. But it's drilled in my head to eat properly. And you, my sweet little Miss Cavanaugh, do not eat properly. Skipping meals and s.h.i.t."

He sounded irritated with her, and as usual that riled her up. "You're not my dad."

"Thank Christ for that," he said with a scowl. She smacked his arm, making him yelp. "What the h.e.l.l was that for?"

"I know you hate my father so I don't need the reminder." Yeah, she so didn't need to think about her dad tonight. Couldn't even work up an ounce of pleasure at seeing big bad Nick rubbing his arm where she hit him.

"Can't I ever catch a break with you?" Nick asked.

"Buy me clam chowder in a bread bowl and you're forgiven," she suggested, a little smile making her lips twitch. "Then you can't get on me anymore about my lack of sleep and eating."

Nick flashed her a wicked grin. "Oh, I'll buy you that bread bowl. But I'll also get on you before the night is through, if you know what I mean. I can guarantee that. And then you won't be doing much sleeping, though that'll be my fault so I'll take full responsibility."

She rolled her eyes and turned away from him, ignoring her heated cheeks as she studied the mult.i.tude of businesses they wandered past as they pushed through the crowd. There were lots of little shops filled with knickknacks and clothing for tourists to take home and prove where they'd gone, and quite a few candy shops, including a taffy place that smelled divine and one that sold a variety of flavored popcorn.

A flash of inspiration for new cotton candy flavors came to her. She should come to these sorts of places more often. Her time was consumed with the new location and she didn't get out much. But coming to these sorts of places with the scents and the sounds and the colors-not to mention the tastes-was the perfect starting point for new ideas.

Her stomach growled again, d.a.m.n it, reminding her she needed to eat before she did something horrendously humiliating. Like faint.

"So where are you taking me?" she asked, sounding way grumpier than she felt. She blamed her empty stomach.

Nick took her hand as if he needed the connection and, entwining their fingers, gave it a gentle squeeze. His palm was large, his fingers long, and he tugged her close in a protective gesture. "The place I like to go to is up ahead on the left. I think you'll like it."

He stopped in front of a building that had seen better days. Yellow chipped paint, a grungy looking interior, and a walk up window where they could make their order to go greeted them. "This is the place, huh?" she asked warily, wondering if the kitchen was up to code.

"Baby, they make the best clam chowder I've ever tasted. Even better than the chowder I've had in San Francisco." He nodded at the employee who stood behind the counter, gaping at him. "How ya doing? Two clam chowders in a bread bowl, please."

"Aren't you..." the employee trailed off, shaking his head. "You are, aren't you?"

"What are you talking about?" Nick schooled his expression, his face completely neutral while the kid continued to stare.

He slowly shook his head. "Never mind. Coming right up."

"Why did you do that?" Willow asked when the teenager moved away to serve up their chowder. She was surprised. He usually reveled in the attention.

"I don't need all that superstar s.h.i.t. Tonight is about you and me and clam chowder." Nick smiled slowly, his gaze warm as he bent down and dropped a kiss on her lips. "You look extra pretty tonight, Will. Did I mention that already?"

He might've when he came to pick her up but she'd let him say it again. "You look good, too," she said reluctantly. He always looked good. It drove her crazy.

Nick shrugged those s.e.xy broad shoulders. "Same ol' me. Maybe I'm just growing on you."

Well. Wasn't that the truth? Not that she'd ever admit it.

They grabbed their bread bowls, Nick paid, and they found a bench to sit on, eating and watching people as they pa.s.sed by. The breeze off the ocean became bitingly cold, and Willow shivered beneath her thin sweater.