Game For Love: Love Games (Kindle Worlds) (17 page)

Oh, Declan, you are so close. I love that I can do this to you. How many women have you had in your lifetime, and me, Marlee Reeves, can make you respond so intensely.

The confidence that thought gave her bolstered her onward. She leaned back onto her haunches and again made eye contact with Declan. He made to move, but, at her raised brow, kept his hands on the counter. He watched as she reached for the pint of ice cream. She took a medium-sized spoonful and held the utensil in an extended reach for Declan. He leaned down and took the bite. She then took a larger spoonful and set the container back on the floor.
 

As Declan watched her, she put the entire spoonful in her mouth. She then put the empty spoon back into the now nearly empty pint. She sat with the mouthful of ice cream. She didn’t touch him in any way, but kept her eyes locked with his. She saw the question in his eyes, and she gave a slight nod of reassurance, as if to say, “Relax, I know what I’m doing.” Even though she had no idea what she was doing.

As the seconds went by, her cheeks deflated as the ice cream melted in her mouth. She could almost see him thinking,
Her mouth must be ice cold.
Then she saw the moment in his eyes when he got it. He realized her intent just as Marlee swallowed the remaining ice cream, placed her hands on his thighs, leaned forward, and took Declan fully into her mouth.

He gasped. “Marlee, good God, that feels…incredible.” The cold, sticky cavern of her mouth as she took in all of him sent a shudder through his gorgeous body.
 

He reached for Marlee’s head, and came into contact with his scarf that was still around her neck and draped across her breasts. He grabbed the scarf on both sides of her and pulled up. It slid to the back of her neck and lodged at her nape. He pulled again, bringing her entire head even closer to his body.

Marlee had turned her mouth into a tingling, cool, sensation-driven vacuum. She sucked hard on Declan’s shaft and brought her hands back to his balls to squeeze and caress. Her tongue, so cold, began to thaw from the intense heat of Declan’s erection. She continued to swirl as she moved her head up and down his shaft.
 

He wound the excess material of the scarf around his hands. “Marlee. Darlin’. I’m gonna come.” He tried to lift Marlee’s head by tugging on the scarf, but she was having none of it. She clasped one hand around his iron-hard thigh and wrapped the other hand around the base of his shaft, stroking him quickly as her sucking motion increased, quickened.

Declan tried to protest again, but the jerking spasms of his body took over instead. He groaned, and swore, and bucked into Marlee as she milked him dry. The explosion seemed to shake him to the core.
 

After several moments, his grip on the scarf loosened and it fell back onto Marlee’s chest. He looked down at her just as she extricated her mouth from around him.

She took another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth and swallowed it. Then another. She looked up at Declan and smiled.

“You know, women would do this much more frequently if there was always ice cream attached. No pun intended.”

Declan reached for her, pulled her up, and kissed her deeply. His tongue dove deep into her waiting mouth. She tangled her tongue with his, sucking it softly as she had just done to a different appendage.
 

She tasted ice cream and Declan and she wasn’t sure which was sweeter.

Chapter Twelve

T
hursday morning their work at the studio went smoothly. Declan taped his same spiel again, with new scores that Marlee got online. His hand usage decreased until it was unnoticeable. She hadn’t given him much other advice; she said he hadn’t needed any. It was her saying that which led him to believe he could actually do this without making a fool of himself. Marlee wouldn’t lie to him just to make him feel better. He wasn’t even sure Marlee knew how to lie.

“You’re perfect, Declan. You didn’t really need my help. The professionals in New York would have caught the hand thing in a minute. You definitely got the short end of this partnership.”

Knowing what she meant, but playing dumb, Declan said, “Oh, I don’t know—seems to me I was on the receiving end last night in your kitchen.” There was a devilish grin in his eyes, as there always was when he teased her. And he teased her a lot. He thought at first that he was shaking loose her buttoned-up veneer, and he was. But he’d soon realized that Marlee had a playful side all her own, and it didn’t take much prodding from Declan to bring it out. His ego allowed him to think that he was the man who could bring it out most easily.

“Actually, if you want to get technical, I was the one who did the receiving.”

He hardened with arousal as he thought about Marlee draining him dry. She was standing at the newscaster set, resting her great ass against the corner of the desk, her long legs (again covered in jeans, much to Declan’s delight and Marlee’s chagrin) stretched out and crossed at the ankles. Today she was wearing a maroon cardigan. Not as tight as yesterday’s sweater, but the buttons held some possibilities.

She took his breath away. She had an effect on Declan that he’d never experienced before. Even when she wore her hair up with the severe suits, he was more attracted to her than any other woman. But when she was like this, all warm and fuzzy in jeans and a sweater, her auburn waves gently framing her oval face, it made Declan think about moving up his future’s timetable.
 

Maybe he didn’t have to know for sure what his future held before he pursued a long-term commitment. It wasn’t like he was hurting for money and wouldn’t be able to support a wife and kids. He would never be idle; he wasn’t the type. And who was to say that even if he got the broadcasting gig he’d like it, or be good at it, and still want to be doing it in a couple of years? He could conceivably be going through a professional upheaval the rest of his life, trying several different things. Waiting until he had it all figured out would never work in that case. Besides, if he did go through a variety of choices, wouldn’t it be better to have a supportive wife and children to come home to for balance?

He’d never played it safe on the field, so why was he doing so now? If his father’s untimely death had taught him anything, it was to live each day to the fullest. He’d always thought he was doing just that; his life was plenty exciting. But living to the fullest was no longer about sports accolades and sex with pretty young things. Nearing forty, Declan knew he longed for a family like the one he grew up in. He could be hit by a drunk driver, like his father had, tomorrow. Did he really want to put off pursuing a family until his professional life was settled?

Especially when Marlee was in his life
now
. Did he want to take the chance of letting her go only to hope to meet someone else that he’d care about more in a few years?
Who are you kidding? You’re never gonna meet someone you care about more than Marlee.

The revelation shook him. Of course. It seemed so clear. He loved Marlee. Letting her go now would be like punting on first down—it made no sense.
 

Something seemed to shift inside Declan. He hadn’t felt this sense of complete clarity since he’d thrown his first touchdown pass in Pop Warner football.

As swiftly as the warmth of his newfound feelings had come, they blew away again faster than the Boston winter winds across the Charles River. Marlee didn’t love him. Seemed perfectly content with their one-week arrangement.

He had a few more days to make Marlee see the light, make her realize that they’d be good together. Either that, or he needed to get her out of his system entirely. He’d always been known to do his best work in the fourth quarter—they hadn’t dubbed him the Comeback Kid for nothing.

He was determined to win her over, yet he had lost enough games at the buzzer in his lifetime to know nothing was a sure thing. If this didn’t work out, and Marlee walked out of his life for good on Sunday, he’d have to accept that.

It was that thought—never seeing Marlee again after this week—that spawned his next actions. He’d want a piece of Marlee with him always. It wouldn’t be enough to take out her memory every now and then and polish it like the trophies that adorned the walls of his den. He knew he’d want to relive every nuance of Marlee, again and again, until he could regain his perspective. Years of watching and re-watching his losses had taught him this. Hell, he still pulled out the tapes of his rookie season on occasion and played them, dissecting his every movement, taking away the good and berating himself for the bad.
 

Declan was moving files to a flash drive to add to the one they’d made yesterday. He took a step back and aimed the camera at Marlee. It didn’t take much movement, because the camera was already pointed in the set’s direction from Declan’s rehearsal.
 

“Marlee,” he said softly. She looked at him, waiting for him to speak. “Okay if I turn this on?” He motioned to the camera.

“Do you want to do another run-through?” She started to rise from where she leaned against the corner of the desk, but stopped when he held up a hand.

“No. That’s not what I want to record.”

She shook her head a tiny bit, and pushed her glasses up her cute nose. “I’m all set for today, if you were thinking of recording me.”

“I was thinking of recording…
us
.” He said it with enough innuendo in his tone that she quickly caught on.

“Uh…that would be no.” She was giving him a “come on, get real” look, but she also sat up just the tiniest bit, and ran a hand through her hair.

“Why not? Think about how much you like it when I talk dirty to you. Just think of this as one step further. We could watch it together later.”

She shook her head again. He expected a hard no, but instead she said, “The equipment stays here in the studio. How could we…”

He motioned to the pile of flash drives on the table that they’d brought. “We copy the file onto a drive, then we erase the file from the camera and the laptop. I erase, you double-check to make sure.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never done anything like that.” She was looking at the camera and biting her lip. So damn sexy.

“Me neither. Listen. We do it. You take the flash drive with you, so you are in complete control of the file. I admit, I like the thought of having you…with me…after this week, but I don’t want you wondering what happened to the flash drive.”

“I have the flash drive. We erase it from the camera and laptop?”

Holy shit, she was going to say yes. His cock sprang to attention and he put his hand over the on button of the camera. “Absolutely. Yours to do with what you want. Take a hammer to it if that’s what you want. But I warn you, I’ll try to talk you into watching it together.”

There. That. That was what got her. She wanted to watch it together. She covered her face with her hands, her loose hair falling forward. After a tiny squeal, she lifted her head and said, “Turn the camera on.”

He flipped the switch. “You’re sure?”

“I trust you,” she said. To hear those words from her meant a lot to him. And he didn’t want to do anything that she’d regret later.

“I can still turn it off.”

She shook her head and said, “Come here, Declan.” Her voice was husky and his cock sprang to full attention as he moved toward her.

Out of the blue, the thought that he’d have to do something really special for Cole went through his mind. Maybe a trip somewhere nice and warm for him and Anna. No expense was too much as a thank-you for the introduction to Marlee. Hell, maybe he and Marlee could even join Cole and Anna on that trip.
 

The vision of Marlee lying on a Hawaiian beach, her toes dug into the sand, a bikini barely covering her spectacular breasts, made Declan stumble against the rise of the set as he approached Marlee. He nearly fell into her, but caught himself just in time.

“I thought you were known for your fancy footwork,” she said, laughing. Her arms were still open, a reaction to catch him that he hadn’t needed. She dropped them down to the desk beside her hips and uncrossed her legs, spreading them wider than necessary for a normal stance.
 

It was good that he’d stumbled. It had kind of taken the newness of the camera being on down a couple of notches.
 

He moved in between her open thighs, grabbed her waist, and lifted her so that she was sitting on the desk, her jean-clad thighs brushing his. He turned her as he lifted her so that she was now completely on the side of the desk, its entire length behind her.

“My footwork’s only fancy when I’m trying to evade defenders. And darlin’, I’ve spent all week trying
not
to evade you.” His hands were still on her waist and he squeezed her. A little harder than he would have normally, but he’d come to know what Marlee liked, and she wasn’t one for flowers and poetry when it came to sex. She liked hard touches and rough caresses, and she loved it when he talked dirty to her. Whenever she was on the edge, Declan knew saying something steamy in her ear would send her over.
 

And apparently she also liked the idea of being videotaped.

The paradox of the conservative professor getting off on dirty talk greatly amused Declan. And turned him on. It was that thought that had tempted him to turn on the camera. If she liked hearing dirty sweet nothings, would she like the idea of watching what they were about to film? He couldn’t wait find out.