Page 37 of Game On

The blood returned to his brain, forcing him to realize the shitload of trouble he was in. Sex with Carly March was not what he’d been fantasizing about all these weeks. It was more. So much more.

Raking a hand through his hair, he tried to make sense of the situation. He’d had one-night stands before. But never with someone he’d have to face at the watercooler every day afterward. Most of the women he’d been in relationships with were hung up on the idea of dating a jock. A celebrity jock at that. Sex had been part of the bargain. But the no-strings-attached proviso had been understood by all parties concerned. He liked his life unencumbered.

The fact that he had struck such a deal with Carly—the coach’s sister-in-law and the GM’s assistant—was crazy. He was risking what was left of his career fooling around with her. Not only that, but he felt more than a twinge of guilt for using her. Something he’d never felt with other women.

Shane wasn’t the type to bask in the afterglow, so he slid out of bed, gently repositioning Carly on one of the many remaining pillows before heading for the bathroom to dispose of the condom. As he splashed cold water on his face, he tried to rationalize away the guilt. Christ, he was tired. That didn’t help matters. It also hadn’t helped that she had practically thrown herself at him, coming to the door dressed as she had. He should have gone straight home and picked up Beckett in the morning.

Leaning against the vanity, his body tensed as he replayed the evening in his head. She’d been upset by something when he arrived; he’d sensed it. He’d assumed she was still jumpy from the incident at the gala the other night, but Carly was made of sterner stuff. She’d rallied quickly after the attack, showing none of the hysteria he would have expected from a woman who’d just been physically threatened.

It had to be something else. And it bothered him that he needed to know what it was. That’s when it hit him: This connection between the two of them was more than sexual. It was why the guilt nagged at him. He actually cared what happened to her. Sex was sex. Only this time it wasn’t. He didn’t have any room in the equation for caring. He needed to focus all his attention on his game. On winning the starting job. But first, he needed to get out of Carly’s house.

He stalked back into the bedroom to do just that, but the sight of her on the bed halted him in his tracks. She lay right where he’d left her: on her stomach, one arm draped over a pillow allowing a rosy nipple to peek out. Her lush rear end was partially covered by the sheet and her mane of soft chestnut curls covered her cheek. His cock was apparently doing the thinking again, because rather than leave, he climbed back into bed as she murmured softly. Bundling her up, he settled her in the crook of his arm, her warm breath fanning his chest. Forgetting he was trying to extricate himself from the situation, he brushed a kiss on top of her head.

“Thank you,” he said, pulling the sheet more fully over them.

“Hmm,” she mumbled. “I’m glad I could do something to make you feel better.”

“So that was just pity sex then?” The words were out before his brain could remind him exactly why he didn’t engage in pillow talk: he sucked at it. Shane felt her tense instantly. Slowly, she pushed the hair back from her face, rolling more fully on his chest so she could level her eyes at him, eyes that were now as blue as the Arctic Ocean. Her elbow jabbed him in the ribs, but he bit back a complaint; he’d said enough already.

“What did you say?” Her voice was as frosty as her eyes.

“Umm . . . it’s like you said, you wanted to make me feel better. You work for the team. I’m sure no one in the organization will fault you for wanting to make the quarterback feel better.” He sounded like an arrogant jerk, he knew. But the more he thought about it, the more this tack made sense. He wanted to sever whatever was between them. He seized on the idea of making her angry with him and ran for the end zone.

With a huff, she shoved off his chest, slamming her head back against the other pillow and snapping the sheet against her breasts. “Oh. My. God!” she railed at the ceiling.

Somehow, it didn’t sound nearly as gratifying as it did when she’d screamed it a few moments earlier.

“You are an insufferable, egotistical ass! You think that I had sex with you out of some sort of . . . of . . . duty?”

She was flailing an arm around in agitation, and the gesture caused the sheet to drop lower, which gave him a nice view of her full breasts. Her skin was flushed and her nipples puckered. The sight was making him hard again.

“You have definitely taken a few too many licks to the helmet, Devlin, because they don’t pay me enough for that.” She pulled the sheet back up and pressed her arms tightly across her chest. “You’re not the only one in the Blaze organization, Devlin. Maybe I needed a little comfort tonight. Did you think of that, huh?”

And just like that, the niggling feeling that something—or someone—had upset her earlier returned with a vengeance. Concern for her flickered in his belly, totally distracting him from honing in on her comment about not being paid enough. He reached over to caress her shoulder, but she pulled away.

“You jocks are all alike.” Her voice had lowered, but her tone was still hard. “You all think the world revolves around you. You wouldn’t even consider the fact that perhaps I might enjoy a little sex now and then.”

He had to hand it to her. Most women would have either been crying hysterically by now or throwing his clothes out the window. But not Carly. She wasn’t a drama queen. He rolled on his side to face her, propping his head on his hand.

“So did you? Enjoy it, I mean.” His hand itched to touch her, but he didn’t dare. He knew if he did, he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. And the game-plan still was to get out of there. Shane was just having a little trouble executing the play.

She shot him a quick look out of the corner of her eye. With a huff she returned her gaze to the ceiling.

“It was okay, I guess.” She shrugged.

Okay? Shane inched closer, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. She wasn’t going to give him an inch, and he had to admire her toughness.

“I seem to remember you screaming in the middle of it,” he said, his mouth just an inch away from her bare shoulder. A shoulder he desperately wanted to nibble.

“It seemed like you could use some encouragement at the time,” she said, examining a cuticle.

He stifled a laugh.

“Are you saying I was a dud?” he taunted her. She had definitely not been a dud, and his body hardened just thinking about it. She tried unsuccessfully to suppress a shudder as his arousal nudged her thigh.

“Well, I made allowances for the fact that you were tired and you’ve been through a lot these past few days. But I’m not going to be singing your praises to my book club, if that’s what you’re asking.”

A man’s ego could only take so much. Ripping the sheet from her, Shane pinned her with a leg. She raised her hands to push him away but he was too fast for her. Shackling her wrists, he pulled her arms over her head. Carly flinched slightly and he loosened his grip. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel threatened. She could get out of his grasp if she wanted, but he made an effort to tame her with his tongue before she tried. Reverently, he traced the outline of the areola on her breast. She shivered as he teased the nipple with his lips. His free hand cruised along the hollow of her waist to the curve of her hip and lower to the thigh.

---