The Penalty Box (14 page)

Katie let her eyes drift shut a moment, imagining the two of them stretched out before dancing firelight.

“Yes,” she whispered. Yes to everything.

 

 

Paul had just
put another Duraflame log on the fire and was sitting back on his heels when Katie entered the living room. She assumed he was waiting to see if he'd need to poke at the flames to get a good roar going. Absorbed in his task, he hadn't heard her come in. Katie took advantage of the opportunity to study him in the firelight. He looked relaxed, his normally watchful gaze almost peaceful, the hard muscles of his thighs straining through his jeans. Katie cleared her throat to make her presence known. Paul glanced up at her over his shoulder, smiling. “So, what do you think?”

“It seems to be going okay.” She sat down on the rug before the fire. Paul was still standing, back to her, poking at the rising flames. Katie let her gaze drift to his calves, remembering them from the day she'd bumped him with her car. They were sculpted and firm; an athlete's calves. Her gaze traveled up his back; beneath the black turtleneck she could make out the perfect V formed from his shoulders to his waist. Katie couldn't help noticing how the ribbed material hugged the strong, broad shoulders. Her gaze crept down again; Boxers or briefs? An image flashed in her mind of silk sheets barely covering his naked hips as he lay back against a mountain of pillows, his rock-hard chest bare and inviting. Swallowing, she forced her eyes to the dancing flames.

“The fire's doing well now,” she noted lamely.

“Yep.” Paul laid down the poker and sat beside her, putting his arm around her. Katie rested her head on his shoulder.

“This is nice.”

He tilted her face up to his. “Let's make it even nicer.”

Katie closed her eyes. She heard him murmur her name softly as his hand slipped from around her shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into a loving embrace. It was so easy to return his affection and twine her arms around his strong neck, to surrender to the feeling of his mouth slowly clamping down on hers, eager, restless. Delight tripped through her as she became aware of how effortlessly their tongues danced together.

Secure in Paul's embrace, Katie felt as if she were awakening from a long slumber and was now experiencing the glories of the world for the first time. Here was desire, need, unforgettable fire. And here was Paul, flickering candlelight tracing patterns on his strong, handsome face.

“I want you, Katie.” He sounded as if he were aching.

“So take me,” Katie whispered, her hand reaching up shakily to begin peeling off her turtleneck.

Paul groaned, a low rumble escaping from his chest as he gently took her hand from her shirt, replacing it with his own. Their eyes met and held as he slowly, painstakingly, slid her turtleneck up and over her head, letting it drop to the floor. Paul smiled his approval, his lips just grazing her throat as he quietly reached around to unfasten Katie's bra. Blood was pounding in Katie's ears as that garment, too, fell away, revealing her bare chest. Silently, almost reverently, he bent his head down to kiss the top of each breast before taking a step back and tearing his own shirt off over his head, his eyes once again locked on her face.

“C'mere,” he said softly. Katie stepped in to the gap between them and into his embrace. Someone's body felt as if it were alight—hers? His? Both? She couldn't be sure. She watched his face as he languidly closed his eyes, his hands coming up to cup her shoulder blades and anchor her against him.

The sweetness and restraint in Paul's movements was almost too much for Katie to bear. Already excited, she dug her fingers deep into his neck as she pulled him down for a hard kiss, her tongue swirling around his, daring him to return the favor. He did—but not before tightening his grasp around her and using the full force of his body to maneuver them toward the couch, sitting on the edge with Katie standing before him. She shuddered sharply as his hands tantalizingly caressed her sides, her ribcage, the hollow of her stomach—everywhere but where she most wanted him to touch.

“You're torturing me,” Katie whispered, her fingers brushing the soft buzz of his hair.

“Well, we can't have that, now, can we?” Paul teased. Katie's breath froze as he leaned forward, his tongue snaking out to taste each hardened nipple. Then, opening his mouth wide, he took as much of her right breast into his mouth as he could before scraping his teeth back and forth across both nipples. Katie felt herself dissolving.

“More?” Paul asked seductively.

Katie nodded fervently, gasping aloud as he latched on to her and suckled hard, a deep whimper rising up from her throat. If he kept up much longer, she was going to come just standing there, the deep throbbing intensity within her abdomen blazing out of control the longer he suckled. She was beginning to feel crazed. She wanted him here, now, in her.

Through sheer force of will, she tore herself from his mouth, looking down at him. Paul gazed at her with desire while Katie hurriedly undid the zipper of her slacks, peeling them down her hips.

“Feeling shy?” Paul taunted as his eyes dipped down to take in the sight of her in her panties. Pulling her roughly to him, he hooked his thumbs over the silky top of her bikini underwear, yanking them down. Katie kicked them aside, a throaty, primitive groan escaping her lips as he pulled her onto his lap, her legs straddling his hips. The pounding of her own heart, the crackling of the fire, Paul's ragged breath—all were making her fevered. She twined her arms tightly around his neck, reveling in the delicious torture he inflicted upon her as his mouth returned to sampling her breasts, one minute biting the nipples, the next soothing them with his tongue.

“I—I want—” Katie gasped.

“Just relax, Professor,” Paul soothed, clearly delighting in pleasuring her. Katie moaned softly to herself as his tongue tickled and licked its way up to her earlobe. That alone would have been enough. But Paul gave her more, his nimble fingers reaching down between her legs to stroke her. Katie held her breath, and then he was there, two fingers snaking their way inside her at the precise moment his teeth sank into the soft underside of her throat.

“God!” she cried out.

“That would be me,” Paul replied, and they both burst out laughing, though Katie's laughter quickly turned to staccato gasps as his teasing fingers continued to move in and out of her body.

“Paul, please,” she begged him. “Please.”

“Please what?” Paul growled, fingers quickening their pace.

“Please make love to me,” Katie rasped, her head falling back.

For a second, nothing happened. Then she felt the universe tilt as he lifted her up and she was on her back, sprawled on the rug before the fire. Katie panted, waiting, as Paul fumbled with the zipper of his jeans. He was naked now, and she took him in her hand. He was hard, silky in her palm, his whole body going rigid as she slowly stroked him. Now she was the torturer, the one calling the shots. Still holding him in her hand, she brushed the tip of him over her and was rewarded with a feral growl. Close, they were so close, and he was perfectly positioned: one thrust and he would be deep inside her body, the agony of their bodies quenched. Katie's hips began angling up to meet his as she barely rode the tip of him. But instead of plunging deep inside her, he took care of protection, and then came up on his elbows, looking down into her eyes as he lovingly pushed the damp tendrils of her hair off her face.

“This is it,” he said, his mouth covering her face in passionate kisses. “No turning back. You sure?”

“I'm sure,” Katie whispered feverishly, pulling her knees up as he eased himself into her.

The fit was perfect, tight. Katie's breath came rapidly as he began thrusting slowly, almost dreamily, inside her. “I've fantasized about this from the minute I saw you at the reunion,” he said, the huskiness of his voice giving Katie goosebumps. He pushed deeper.

Katie groaned her response as his body continued moving in hers: hard, deep, assured. “This okay?” he rasped, changing the angle of his thrusts so that every one of his strokes was rubbing against her sex. Katie swallowed, barely having time to nod yes before he began quickening the pace, his teeth carving a groove into her shoulder as he bit down. That was it: Katie's head snapped back and an unrestrained scream of pleasure erupted from her lips as he drove her over the edge. When she returned to her senses, she saw his eyes burning in the firelight, the intensity almost too much to bear.

“Hold on,” he said, thrusting relentlessly. Katie could feel her own pulse begin to climb back up as Paul started to lose control. She savored the moment, watching as his open mouth drew in great gulps of air. He was close now, she could tell. He pulled her thigh up even higher on his hip, Katie matching his rhythm. At last, he gave one final, frenzied thrust before emptying himself into her.

Paul's words brought Katie back to herself. Her body might be snuggled against his in front of the roaring fire, but her mind was floating blissfully out in the cosmos. She wondered how long they'd been holding each other, the need for speech superfluous.

Katie brushed her nose against his. “Please don't call me that. It makes me feel like I'm on
Gilligan's Island
.”

Paul laughed. “Who does that make me? The Skipper?”

“Ginger.”

“Mmm, kinky.”

Katie turned on to her back, eyes following Paul as he rose to fetch an afghan from the couch. The flickering shadows created by the fire played across his rippling muscles. His body was perfect.
And
he was good in bed. Katie couldn't believe her good luck.

Lying beside her, Paul propped himself up on one elbow while the fingers of his free hand brushed easily over her right hip. He slid down her body, kissing the spot he'd just caressed. “What are these?” he asked innocently.

Katie lifted her head, peering down the length of her body as Paul continued to gaze curiously at the intricate network of pearly white lines crisscrossing her hips.

“Those are stretchmarks,” she said quietly, moving to turn away from him. “From when I was fat.”

Paul pulled her back toward him, pressing his mouth to the marks and letting his lips linger. “I think they're beautiful.”

Katie snorted. “My God, you can sling the bull.”

Paul lifted his eyes to hers. “I'm not bullshitting you, Katie. They're hieroglyphics. I read them and I can see where you've been and how hard you've worked to get to where you are now. They're part of you, so they're beautiful.” He kissed her right hip again before spreading the afghan over the two of them and settling back down with Katie nestled in his arms.

“This is very romantic.” Katie sighed. ”But please tell me you have a bed we can repair to after a decent interval of canoodling.”

“Of course I have a bed. What do you think I am?”

“With all these unpacked boxes, I thought you might bed down on the couch every night,” Katie ribbed.

“I have a bed,” Paul repeated, kissing her forehead. “Trust me.”

“I could help you unpack, you know.”

Slightly, almost imperceptibly, Katie could feel him tense.

“No, that's okay. I don't need help.”

“It might be fun.”

“I don't think so,” Paul said with unmistakable terseness. He drew her closer, stroking her hair. “Let's just concentrate on us.”

“Us,” Katie repeated uncertainly. The concept made her feel nervous.

Paul's gaze was questioning as he pulled back so he could look at her. “You don't sound too thrilled.”

“No, I'm fine, I mean, I'm thrilled, this was thrilling, look at my thrilled face.” She made a silly face, but Paul didn't laugh. It was best to tell the truth. “I just think we should keep it kind of quiet, that's all.”

“What the hell for?” Paul scowled. “I'm going out with the smartest and most beautiful woman in Didsbury and I have to keep it a secret?”

“I'm only in Didsbury temporarily. Remember?”

“So?”

Katie sighed with frustration. “People talk, Paul.”

“
So?
” he repeated.

“Maybe it's not such a good idea for us to be too obvious, you know? You're Tuck's coach, remember?”

Paul groaned.

“And then there's Liz,” Katie brought up tentatively.

“What?”
Paul bolted upright, staring at her in horror as if she'd just started speaking in tongues. “What does Liz have to do with anything?”

“She wants you, Paul. Everyone knows it.”

“Stop saying ‘so'!”

Paul's expression remained incredulous. “You're going to let
Liz Flaherty
dictate what we can and can't do? Are you nuts?”

“She can stir up trouble,” Katie muttered. “You know she can.” His inability to see the implications of Liz knowing about them irked her. Tugging on his fingers, she pulled him back down beside her. “I just think it's better if we keep this quiet,” she said, resting her chin on his shoulder.

Paul thought about it for a moment, then drew back suspiciously. “You sure this isn't about me?”

“You?”

“Yeah. Me. As in the hotshot college professor doesn't want it to get around she's playing footsy with the loser ex-jock.”

Katie stared at him. “Is that really how you see yourself?”

Embarrassment flashed across his face. “No, of course not—”