Authors: Liz Crowe
But he had promised Mo. He grabbed his phone and keys and headed for the door as his phone rang again. "Hey babe. What's up?"
Mo sounded chipper for a change, more like her old self. "Hey. I rescheduled my spa weekend. Gonna take the kids out to dad's old place in Whitmore Lake instead. You are invited, but don't have to join."
"Why? Didn't you want the pampering thing? Kids and I had our whole weekend planned down to the pancakes and ice cream for breakfast."
"No. I'm good. Another time."
"Well, alright but let me know if you change…"
"I won't. Go to Katie's tournament. I want you to."
She hung up before he could say another word. Suddenly he wasn't quite so exhausted as he raced home to pack.
****
He rolled into the resort around ten p.m. The lobby teemed with squealing soccer players and their mostly drunk parents. He got his condo upgrade and caught sight of Blake across the huge space, sitting at the bar with a couple of the dads.
"Blake," he shook Sara's brother's hand. "What are we drinking?"
The handsome blond man smiled at him. After about thirty minutes of chitchat and beer, he surmised that Lila had auditioned for the role of surrogate mom and had passed with flying colors. Jack smirked. He figured it wouldn't be long before Frietag worked a female into their mix. Blake certainly wouldn't complain. Could get interesting.
"Hey, where' Sara?"
"Oh, she's, um," Blake looked suddenly nervous. "Her room number's 1507. Not sure where she is though." Jack drained his beer, slapped the other man on the back and headed for the elevators. Humming with excitement and already picturing the pleasantly surprised look on her face, he strode down the hall. It took a couple of knocks before the door opened enough for Sara to peer out at him. Surprise, yes. Pleasant, no. He frowned as she tried to step out into the hallway.
"What are you doing here? I told you Mo needed..."
"Mo cancelled. Thought I'd surprise you." He tried to look around her. "Katie alright? Asleep?"
"Um, no, I mean, yes, she's alright. She'd down the hall with..."
"Sara? You okay?" A distinctly male, accented, voice floated out to greet him. He put a hand on the door and shoved it open. The coach sat, beer in hand, in tight jeans and a team tee shirt that had to be a size too small. "
Hola
, Jack!" The smarmy bastard had a nerve to smile at him. Jack clenched his jaw and looked down at Sara. She had the decency to blush.
"I see I'm the one who gets surprised. Sorry to interrupt."
"Jack, it's not like that. We were only talking."
The testosterone vibe in the room wavered, visible to his eyes. A bolt of raw jealous fury tore through him. He stayed quiet, eyes fixed on her. "Maybe that's what you think. But you should ask him his plans." She put a hand on his arm but he flinched, yanked it out of her reach. Dear God he was a fool. "I'll leave you to your…chat." He slammed the door, not caring if she moved out of the way or not and headed back to the elevator. The hallway darkened, and the primal male in him roared in his ears, begging him to act. The simple act of pressing the elevator button took effort.
"Jack!" He didn't turn. If he looked at her, he'd say things he could never, ever take back. "Goddammit Jack, stop! You don't know what…" He took a breath and looked at her. Everything about her screamed sexy. And that pipsqueak asshole of a washed up athlete had tried to move in on his woman.
"Don't come any closer. I can't talk to you right now. I need air." He stepped into the elevator, and took a last look at her before the doors slid shut. Slumping against the railing he tried to calm his clamoring brain and shaking body. All the time, all of the effort, wasted.
He truly had been played.
He strode to the bar, offered the guy a hundred dollar bill in exchange for a bottle of Woodford Reserve and without a glance at anyone, including Blake, he walked out and towards his condo.
Sara slid down the wall opposite the elevator, shock and adrenaline keeping the tears at bay for the moment. Mateo walked over and helped her up, holding her close. His deep masculine smell, leather, grass and a slight hint of clean soapiness made her close her eyes. She did not want him. She wanted no part of him. But now, Jack thought she did. Dear Christ did she know how to screw up a good thing.
"Stop, Mateo. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give you the wrong idea."
He smoothed her hair back, planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you and Katie's father..."
"No, no, he's not, I mean. Oh hell." The tears let loose then, rolling down her face, blurring her vision. She stumbled back to the room. "Go, okay? Just go."
She sat, staring at nothing for nearly an hour. How could she fix this? Jack was so fucking stubborn, so unwilling to listen to her. She put her face in her hands. A soft knock on her door made her startle. "Sara?" Blake's voice. She opened the door and saw him, Katie and Maddie on either side of him looking exhausted after a long round in the fancy resort swimming pool. The team parents divided duties and she'd gotten the night off but had pool supervision patrol tomorrow night.
"Can you?" She pointed to Katie. He nodded. She knelt down to her daughter's eye level. "Honey I'm gonna go see Uncle Jack, okay. Can you sleep in Uncle Blake's room with Maddie?" The girl nodded and yawned.
"He texted me. Told me not to tell you he was on his way – wanted to surprise you. Were you surprised Mommy?" Sara tried not to cry and scare the girl.
"Yeah, he did. Now grab your stuff and be sure to brush your teeth."
After pleading with the front desk to give her Jack's condo number she started down the darkened path, trying to use light from her smartphone. She stumbled once, not paying attention to the landscaping, and finally found it. Music poured from the open, well-lit windows. She frowned, but knocked. It took four times and her yelling at him to get any response. He leaned on the door way, half empty bottle of bourbon in hand. She grabbed it and took a big gulp, letting the fiery alcohol scorch its way down her throat.
He shrugged and went back inside. He'd stripped to his jeans and the strong line of his torso made her shiver. If things had worked like they should have, she'd be seducing him right now, on her big white rug in the living room of her house, not standing here like an idiot trying to explain a scene she had no explanation for.
Squaring her shoulders, she marched in behind him. After finding the iPod dock and turning down the pounding rock music she had to go out the sliding glass door to find him. He'd parked himself on the patio, bare feet up on a table, staring out onto the darkened golf course. She slid into the seat next to him.
"So, I see why you were so adamant that I stay behind."
"No, you don't."
"Actually I do. Don't kid a kidder. I know a diversion when I see it. Hell, I've used them myself."
She tried to hold her temper. Getting mad would come across as defensive. She had no reason to be defensive. She had done absolutely nothing wrong. The niggling voice in her head reminded her that she had indeed been damn close to letting the young man kiss her. She shook her head. It was silly; a lame ego-stroking moment for an older woman.
"Why are you here?" he didn't look at her.
"Because I, I wanted to make sure you were okay." She clutched her shaking hands together in her lap.
"I'm fine. Now leave. We are through, do you understand me? I can't take this anymore."
"You? You can't take it? How do you think I felt when I got to meet your surprise new toy slash girlfriend while I was trying to manage your office for you?" She heard her voice rise; tried to tamp it down. It would only raise the ante. It did.
"I explained it to you. And told you we'd broken it off. You know, so I could romance you. Jesus." He grabbed the bottle and knocked back another long drink. "But I didn't realize the full-on cougar you'd turned into. Nice one, he's probably young enough to go all night like you need."
She stood. An alarming red colored her vision as she took the one step between him and slapped him, hard. Twice. He rose, forcing her take a step back. Without a word he picked her up and carried her inside. Shocked, angry, but her body already responding to him, she shrieked, pummeled his chest. He tossed her unceremoniously on the huge bed.
"I should have done this the other night." He growled, before taking a handful of her shirt and yanking it over her head, ripping it in two in the process. She gasped at his force but glared at him. "I fucking love you, goddammit. How many times, how many ways, do I have to prove it?" She sucked in a breath at the sight of tears standing in his bright blue eyes. He narrowed them and then all she knew was his mouth, lips and tongue. She groaned and wrapped herself around him, but he shoved her down, pinned her wrists, with one hand, tugging her jeans and panties off with the other.
"Mine." He muttered into her neck. The licks and nibbles took on a painful edge making her sigh and her pussy pulse in immediate response. "Fucking mine."
"Oh God yes!" She yelled, clutching his hair, his shoulders, anything and anywhere just to touch him. He shoved fingers inside her, spread her, teased her g-spot, then stopped as she was about to climax. He stared at her, brought his fingers to her lips, then to his leaving her writhing with need.
He found her nipples next, sucked and tugged on them so hard it brought tears to her eyes and even more wetness between her thighs. He worked his way down, sucking and biting her flesh until he finally reached her center. He stopped. Their ragged breathing echoed in the room. "Please, Jack." She whimpered. "I need..."
He lowered his mouth to her clit, sucked it, elongating it, fucking her with his fingers and tongue so hard she had to bite her own hand to keep from screaming with ecstasy. But he kept on the edge, perched, ready to fall, stopping when he knew she had nothing left. The room began to dim, she felt her hands and feet get numb. Something like terror filled her heart, and she suddenly couldn't breathe.
"Sara," he spoke. When he'd moved up her body she couldn't recall. She nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Look at me." She shook her head.
"I can't." Her whisper filled the room. "I'm scared."
"Of what?" He kept working her flesh, nibbling, sucking, teasing, patting her clit, penetrating her with a finger, deep, then pulling out. Her body hummed with erotic energy. She squirmed, tried to reach out for him. "I'm not going to hurt you. I've told you that before, lots of times. Why won't you just believe me?"
"I'm afraid to love you. I can't…love anybody."
He covered her mouth, probed with his tongue, ran his hands up and down her naked body. Breaking away, he whispered in her ear before pulling her over on top of him. "Don't be afraid. Fall. I'll catch you."
With one tilt of his hips he spread her, filled her with his cock, making her gasp. "Sit up, ride me baby. Like you want." She shook her head. But he pushed her up so she sat, braced against his hard chest with one hand, gripping his thigh with the other. He thrust again, grunting with the exertion.
"Oh dear God," She thought she yelled but it came out a throaty whisper. Rocking her hips she matched his rhythm as their bodies met, released and met again. He cupped her breasts, pinched her nipples making her move faster toward release. It roared up from the soles of her feet, bringing dark to the edge of her vision. "Jack!"
He groaned, gripped her hips. "Yes. You can."
"Oh God!" The room went black as the exquisite beauty of a Jack induced orgasm rolled through her, making her forget everything but how much she loved him. He flipped them over, pinning her beneath him, pounding into her with a fierce purpose she loved. She gripped the headboard, lifted her hips. "Fuck me hard Jack. Harder! I want it!" He groaned, shuddered and she felt him, warm and wet inside her body. She wrapped her legs around him never wanting it to end. But it did, as most perfect moments did. He took a shuddering breath and pulled out, flopping down beside her.
"Sleep," he muttered, pulling her close. "Let me hold you. No more fighting."
Sara grinned and tugged the duvet over them both. "I love you," she whispered. But he was already asleep.
Jack rolled over, smacking at the annoying animal that kept chirping near his head. It would not stop. "What the fuck?" He threw the clock across the room, which took care of the noise. But his head took up the reins and started clanging, his heart beating in time with the pain the way only a true bourbon hangover can do. Groaning, he sat, noting the time. "Hey," he poked Sara's hip. She shifted, and rolled onto her stomach. "What time is the first game?" She sat up, hair tumbled over her eyes.
"Oh, um, not until eleven. What time is it?"
"It's nearly eight. You should go."
She turned over, tugged the sheet up to her chest. "Oh, okay." Her look said it all. He'd screwed up again. Acted like an idiot, made assumptions about what she'd done and with whom. Then solidified the idiocy by fucking her like an animal. He flopped back on the bed, pulled a pillow over his aching head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."
She laid next to him but he flinched and moved away. He could not take this anymore. "But, Jack, I thought…"
"You thought wrong. It was a weak moment on my part. Won't happen again; I assure you." She pulled away, anger in her eyes.
Good. Anger I can take.
After throwing the pillow across the room he stumbled into the small kitchen, drank what felt like a gallon of life-giving water, let his head droop between his shoulders.
This ends now, before we both end up lacerated one time too many.
He looked up to find her standing in the doorway, her jeans back on and wearing one of his shirts. "You ruined mine, remember?" Her voice did not bode well for reconciliation, but that worked for him.
"Whatever. Listen, Sara, I'm gonna end this now, okay? I'm sorry I brought the full court pressure these last weeks. I obviously though we could make it work. I don't think we can."