Page 42 of Game On

“Sure you don’t want to stay for dessert?” His tongue trailed along the soft skin below her ear.

“I really shouldn’t,” she whispered. Her body was saying something else as it came to life beneath his roving hands. Reaching behind her into the fridge, he pulled out a can of whipped cream. A squeak barely escaped her lips as he shook the can.

“You sure? I got fat-free.”

Her skin betrayed her again as a blush crept from her chest to her forehead.

“Only if we can work it off first.” She licked her lips.

“Your wish is my command, Dorothy.”

THIRTEEN

Carly woke early the next morning. Shane’s house sat secluded at the back of a cul-de-sac and they had forgotten to draw the shades before going to sleep. The long June days began early and sunlight spread out over the bed. A muscled leg hung outside of the sheet. His breathing was steady and deep with sleep, giving her a moment to take in her surroundings.

The house was a large contemporary. He’d filled it with comfortable, rented furniture, but it had the feel of a monastery. With the exception of the kitchen, there wasn’t one picture or personal effect evident in anywhere in the house. The walls were bare. The tables lacked any knickknacks. She wanted to believe the sterile environment was because he’d only lived in the house for a month, but she knew better. Shane Devlin was the ultimate loner. His house was a reflection of his personality. She doubted he’d ever lived any differently. Sadness crept into her heart as she thought of the anger he still held on to.

Slowly, she rolled over onto her side so she could leisurely take in his face, relaxed and boyish in sleep. His body was beautiful. She thought of how that body had merged with hers last night and heat rose from her toes to the pit of her belly. Shane was a powerful lover. Playful at times, focused and intent at others. Tuned into her needs, he never left her wanting. But he took as much as he gave. The man sleeping beside her was dangerous to her senses. Dangerous to her heart.

The intimacy of their dinner last night shook her more than their lovemaking. Perhaps it was their similar life stories that bonded them together. It was more than just sexual chemistry, she knew. That’s what scared her. He would have no trouble keeping things on a physical level. Could she?

Reaching over, she traced a finger along his chest, trailing it down along the line of hair at his belly and lower. Mumbling to himself, he blinked his eyes open. With a slow, dazzling smile he rolled over on top of her. She wrapped her hand around him and he covered her mouth with his. The shrill ringing of the telephone startled them both.

“This is starting to get old,” he growled. “For crying out loud, it’s six-fifteen in the morning.”

“Don’t answer it.” She tried to pull his hips back in contact with hers.

He swore as he looked at the caller ID. “It’s the guard house.” He snatched up the phone. “Yeah?”

Carly winced as his warm body rolled off hers. He sat up on the side of the bed. She trailed a finger down his spine.

“What?” he bellowed. He stood searching for his clothes. Tucking the phone between his neck and his ear, he pulled on a pair of jeans over his naked butt. “Are you kidding me? Sure. Fine. Send him here.” He slammed down the land line phone before grabbing his cell off the nightstand, swearing under his breath.

“Shane? What is it? What’s going on?” Carly sat up, clutching the sheet to her bare chest.

“It’s the kid.” He pounded the buttons of his cell phone.

“What kid?”

“Bruce’s kid!” he all but shouted.

“You mean Troy?” she asked incredulously, taken aback by his reaction. “Your brother?”

Finally bothering to look at her, he pierced her with a menacing glare. “Yeah, that kid.” Shane stormed out of the bedroom, yelling into his cell as he went. “I know what time it is, Tif, just put him on the phone,” he demanded as the stomped down the stairs.

And just like that, the sympathetic lover of the past two nights was gone and the Devil of the NFL was back. Carly flopped back down onto the bed listening to Shane argue with someone on the phone. He’d gone into the kitchen so she couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying, which only heightened her curiosity about who he’d called. Staring at the ceiling, she took a few deep, cleansing breaths. Obviously there would be no returning to the bliss of five minutes earlier. One thing she knew for sure: she needed to get some clothes on before his younger brother arrived. Things were difficult enough to explain without a preteen boy finding her naked in his brother’s bed.

It only took a few minutes for her to brush her teeth and pull back her hair. They’d showered together last night after their adventure with the whipped cream. She’d grabbed her gym bag out of her car afterward, which, thankfully, had clean clothes in it. A pair of yoga pants and a modest V-neck T-shirt would have to do. Her sneakers were next. She was shoving yesterday’s clothes into the bag when the doorbell rang. She didn’t want to intrude, so she kept herself busy by tidying up the bedroom. Turning on the TV was out—she might miss something important going on downstairs.

Standing in the doorway she strained to hear the voices. Shane and the voice of a boy were easily distinguishable, but she heard other voices as well.

Several other voices.

Curiosity got the better of her and she made her way to the top of the stairs. After all, Shane hadn’t actually told her to wait upstairs. Maybe she could slip out to the garage without anyone noticing. But then she’d miss the action. What if Shane wanted her there? Somehow she doubted that. She wasn’t exactly sure what she should do. Her feet were already moving before she could make up her mind.

The voices were louder now, interspersed with the sound of Beckett’s paws clicking on the tile floor. He was obviously more excited than his owner at this morning’s company. Carly couldn’t see the boy clearly from this vantage point, but he obviously hadn’t come alone. Three other men were with him. They were large, one of them as big as some of the players on the Blaze. One wore a college T-shirt. If she had to guess, she’d say they were players from Bruce Devlin’s team.

No way this was going to go well.

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