Page 41 of Play for Keeps

Chapter 10

She wished she had the strength to pretend she didn’t want him. Not wanting him would be safer. Easier. After a lifetime spent cleaning up other people’s messes, the last thing she wanted was complications in her own private life. And this man was the most magnificent complication that ever existed.

Millie let her eyelids drift shut as Ty wrapped one of those deliciously enormous hands around her ankle. She looked to see if his fingertips overlapped, but she already knew they would. She’d been memorizing bits and pieces of Ty Ransom since the day they’d met. His big hands topped her list of things she liked about him.

Like a squirrel gathering nuts, she oh-so-casually picked up a hint here and a factoid there, then stashed them away in her private hidey-hole. The man was a study in contrasts. Strong but unfailingly gentle. Large but born with a grace nonathletes could never emulate. She could stare at him all day. Would think about him night after night. And tonight…this night would live on in fantasy for years to come.

The second he’d walked into the bar to claim her, she’d started taking a greedy inventory of their time together. She’d gathered every tidbit she could. The deep furrow between his brows. His freakishly long legs. Every bit of his Stretch Armstrong body. Then she noticed the tan lines. He had the faint lines of a golfer’s tan on his arms and legs. She was a fairly uniform pasty pale from top to bottom, but Ty was a veritable Pantone study in browns. The knowledge that he’d earned those tan lines while freeing himself to be with her made every shade of him even more irresistible. He ran his hand up her leg, his fingers loosening to fit the curve of her calf, his palm hot along her shinbone. Thank God she’d shaved her legs.

“Millie, look at me.”

He spoke so softly she had no choice but to obey. With superhuman effort, she opened her eyes and waited for his handsome face to swim into focus. Almost immediately, she wished she hadn’t. The way he looked at her. So intent. So absorbed. His unabashed desire for her was almost too much to bear. Not when she had so little to offer him.

Desperate to deflect his rapt attention, she forced a flash of a smile. “Wanna tie me up with your ties, Ty?”

Astonishment wiped his face clean. He blinked once, then gave his head a sharp shake. “Huh?”

A fierce blush scalded her cheeks. “It’s a line from an old movie,” she explained. When she saw he wasn’t catching on, she shifted straight into babble mode. “Caddyshack. Chevy Chase’s name was Ty and this girl… Never mind. Kate, Avery, and I do that a lot. Use movie quotes, I mean. Not tie each other up with ties.”

He cocked his head to the side, then let his hand slide higher up her thigh. “I’ve spent the last six weeks doing two things—playing golf against the septuagenarian hustler who calls himself my father and thinking about all the ways I want to crawl inside you. You ask if I want to tie you up with my ties, and you think I’m gonna cop to a quote from a golf movie?”

“I’m a little nervous.”

She wished she could take the words back. Millie wasn’t the kind of woman who let any man get the better of her. She never got nervous, even with dozens of cameras pointed in her direction, and she didn’t babble, for God’s sake. Words were her weapons. A strong offense was always the best defense. She needed to get ahold of herself.

“You?” Ty’s surprised expression went a long way to soothing her nerves.

She covered with a wry twist of her lips and a pointed look at the wall of windows. The last rays of summer sunlight streamed through the panes, washing the entire room in a golden glow. While she was thankful the room wasn’t lit with banks of harsh fluorescents, bright light from any source was rarely kind to a woman her age. Making a show of shielding her eyes from the brightness, she squinted. “I don’t suppose you have any shades on those things?”

Ty barked a laugh, then rolled onto his side, effectively blocking her from the light. “How’s this?”

Blinking up at him, the first thing she noticed was the halo. He ran an appreciative hand up her thigh, over her hip, waist, and rib cage. His wandering hand stopped beneath her breast, but his thumb had gone rogue. The rough pad teased the shallow valley between her breasts. Golden glow or not, the wicked grin he wore was sure to disqualify him as a model for one of those old portraits of saints they used to print on funeral cards.

“I keep thinking I should make some crack about throwing shade, but I’m a little distracted.” He cupped her breast gently, then lowered his head. “Quick, think of something quippy while I do this.”

His mouth closed on her nipple, and any chance she had at concocting anything clever flew right out one of those massive windows. She bucked and bowed, her body responding to the heated pull of his mouth. He squeezed her, shaping her to fit his palm. The sharp edges of those toothpaste-white teeth abraded the sensitive flesh. Millie could almost feel the debate going on inside her nerve endings. Part of her softened like melted butter with each swipe of his velvet tongue. Another part stiffened against the sharp edge of want he unleashed in her.

She wanted him, and she couldn’t think of one logical reason in the world she shouldn’t have him. They were colleagues of a sort, but he wasn’t her boss, nor she his. Unlike his ex-wife, people would consider her an age-appropriate match. Of course, she could come up with dozens of illogical ones. Number one being the very high probability of falling hard for him. As a newly divorced man, he wouldn’t be looking to her for anything serious. She had to keep things light. Easy. Physical, not emotional. All she had to do was concentrate on the feel of his hands on her body, the tug of his lips and hot slash of his tongue.

“Harder,” she panted.

He complied without hesitation, sucking her deep into his mouth, then teasing the hypersensitive skin with each retreat. His body moved against hers. Funny how well they fit when they were horizontal. Each hard plane of muscle matched up to her softer counterparts. She vowed not to think about the roll of excess flesh no amount of jogging could budge. Didn’t matter. The long, hard length of his cock pressed insistently against her thigh. She felt invincible. Like a goddess. She was Atalanta, the great huntress from Greek mythology. The woman no man could outrace.

Unless she chose to let him catch her.

Which she wouldn’t. Couldn’t. When the time came, he’d pick someone younger. A better prospect for a future. And a family. This was a fling. One she could enjoy for as long as it lasted.

He moved down her body, mapping the curve of her rib cage with tiny kisses, murmuring sweet, sexy words of praise and appreciation. She drank them in, letting them fill her up. He didn’t know their relationship had already sprung a slow leak. And though she should, Millie couldn’t quite bring herself to tell him the pale skin he seemed to like so much was a hint as to who she really was—a ghost of a woman. Translucent on the outside, hollow within.

As if following the trail of her thoughts, he kissed his way down to the scar that traced the curve of her lower belly. His tongue highlighted the long-healed wound. He looked up. Questioningly. She could feel the heat of his stare on her face, but she couldn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she gave the briefest, bluntest explanation she could. The kind designed to stop any further questions cold.

“I had cervical cancer in my thirties and had a hysterectomy.” She nodded to the condom box. “We don’t have to worry about any late-in-life babies, but safety first, right?”

He gave her a puzzled look, then nodded. “I’m sorry—”

Millie pressed her finger to his lips and fixed him with an unwavering stare. “It was a long time ago. I’m fine.”

In an effort to obliterate any other notions of sympathy—or worse, pity—he might be harboring, she removed her finger and slid her hand around to cup the back of his head. Ty hummed his approval when she exerted the barest bit of pressure. Nuzzling and kissing his way, he slipped down farther and pressed his full, wet lips to the apex of her pussy.

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