Game For Tonight
by Karen Erickson
Copyright © 2014 by Karen Erickson. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Chapter One
Sometimes, a desperate woman resorted to desperate measures.
The cliche repeatedly ran through Aubrey Cooper’s head as she strode through the crowds clustered within the small restaurant, her gaze scanning the dimly lit room with ruthless efficiency. The restaurant had been closed to the public tonight, and everyone was in full celebration mode. Plenty of alcohol flowed—most generously through her veins, which wasn’t helping her state of mind. Giant plates of appetizers were currently being passed around, and the delicious scents wafting through the air were making her stomach growl.
Not that she could eat right at this moment. She needed to find him, needed to talk to him right—
Ah, there he was. Flynn Foley. Second-string quarterback for the San Jose Hawks. The Golden Boy—that was the nickname he’d earned from the media last season. Young
and strong and fast, tall and broad and gorgeous as hell, he was an exceptional football player who had been sitting on the bench for far too long this season.
He also made Aubrey’s toes curl every time he so much as looked her way. A rather difficult thing to ignore, considering she was his publicist and worked with him all the time. As in, she had to stare at that handsome face and listen to that deep, delicious voice all the time, too. Which in turn led to her curling-toe affliction and the rapid development of her mad, crazy crush.
The crush had become too much to ignore.
The Hawks franchise had a stringent no-dating policy— though it wasn’t a major issue, considering there wasn’t a ton of women who worked there. Of course, she would have to fall for her client. Not that he seemed to notice. He was always nice to her, easy to work with, very easy on the eyes. At first, she’d thought there was a spark between them, but that spark must have died a quick, painless death, because the man clearly wasn’t interested in her.
Or maybe there was a chance she could make him interested. She had no idea. Alcohol was fueling her all- over-the-place thoughts tonight. Alcohol and finding out via Facebook that her ex-boyfriend was getting married. Jerk. Asshole. The man who’d promised her his undying love, then dumped her as soon as she’d moved to San Jose to start her job with the Hawks—one minute there, the next minute gone. This woman—he’d started dating her almost immediately after Aubrey had moved away—was supposed to be his rebound.
Not the one.
Ugh. She paused near the bar and glanced around, wishing she had another drink. Everyone seemed so happy, all the single players congregating together—probably planning where they were going later tonight to party harder, because tomorrow they were back to business. The paired-off players were sitting with their significant others, looking cozy as they all chatted among themselves.
And then there was her, Aubrey, all alone in the middle of a packed restaurant. She needed to stop thinking about Derek and his impending marriage to Rebound Girl. She wasn’t in love with Derek. She hadn’t ever really thought of him, either, until the Facebook announcement. Heck, she’d had her rebound guy already and moved on. It just…irked her. That Derek had found someone and she was still alone. Lonely.
One more drink could give her more of a spine, she figured. Then maybe she could go up to Flynn, drag him into a dark corner, away from prying eyes, and offer him a congratulatory kiss—accompanied by tongue?
Aubrey shook her head, shook the very idea straight out of her mind. They worked together. Any type of relationship, however temporary, especially temporary, was frowned upon. Her thoughts were ridiculous. Her bold idea to approach Flynn and kiss him? Reckless. Risky.
Stupid. Right?
Okay, maybe she didn’t need any more liquor coursing through her veins. Her thoughts had derailed straight into Crazy Town. Clearly she was feeling down and out over her ex. And over the fact that she’d found out some other unpleasant news that might change everything.
Rumor had it that Flynn Foley wasn’t going to be her client much longer. She’d earlier overheard her boss, the head publicist, Harvey Price, discussing Flynn’s fate with the coach. And Coach Walsh had specifically said they were considering trading Foley.
She’d heard it come straight out of his mouth. It wasn’t a rumor. And that meant Mister Hot Pants himself—a nickname she’d come up with because, good Lord, the man looked hot in his uniform—was possibly leaving. Silver lining? She could pursue him all she wanted if he wasn’t going to be a Hawk any longer.
Though she should probably break it to him that they might let him go…
Nah. She couldn’t do that. Just because she was down and out in the midst of a celebration didn’t mean she needed to bring Flynn down, too. The Hawks win this afternoon was a big deal. And the team’s owner, Charlie Monroe, loved any excuse to use the restaurant he owned in downtown Carmel to bring his team together and honor their wins.
Raining on Flynn’s parade tonight would be mean. Cold. And she wasn’t that type of person. She was nice. Responsible. Probably too nice and responsible. Maybe she needed to loosen up and be irresponsible for once. Nice got her nowhere. Maybe if she was bold for once, she could approach Flynn. Tell him she’d love to throw down on him. As in, grab hold of the front of his shirt and yank him down for a kiss. Or maybe she could crawl up that rock-hard body, letting all of her important bits rub against his important bits. He was so tall that she might need a ladder to reach his lips…
She needed to find Flynn. Would he think she was crazy if she made a pass at him? And she wasn’t talking about the sort of passes he was used to on the football field. Would he
blow her off? Rumors were rampant that he was a virgin, and she was pretty convinced they were true.
“Hey, hey. Where’s the fire?” Strong fingers curled around her upper arm, halting her in her pursuit. Glancing over her shoulder, she found Nick Hamilton, tight end for the Hawks and one of her other clients, smiling at her, his grip lessening on her arm so she could pull away from him.
“Sorry.” She offered a wan smile. “I need to find… somebody.”
The knowing look on Nick’s handsome face said he knew exactly who she was looking for. Damn it. “Haven’t seen him.”
“Seen who?” She schooled her expression, trying her best for utter innocence, but she couldn’t fool Nick. She’d spent too much time working with him the past couple of months, and clearly he had her all figured out.
Just as she had him figured out—for the most part. It was her job, after all. When she’d started as the assistant publicist for the Hawks, Nick Hamilton had been her first major assignment.
Flynn Foley, secret mad crush, her second.
“You know who.” Nick gently socked her in the arm, making her wince, though it hadn’t hurt. More as if her pride had been bruised because, man, was she that obvious? “Sorry. I’m trying to say I haven’t seen Flynn.” He whispered the last word, his eyes dramatically wide.
“I wasn’t looking for Flynn.” And anyway, somehow, she’d lost him. Again. Her gaze cut left. She thought she saw his familiar, outrageously perfect profile, but the person wasn’t him. She ignored the disappointment that filled her, silently berating herself for being so hung up on a man who
clearly didn’t notice her, beyond her being his pain-in-the- ass publicist.
Not that he’d ever call her a pain in the ass. She knew he didn’t think of her that way. He was the epitome of polite. One of the most dedicated football players she’d ever witnessed—and she’d witnessed quite a few of them already in her just-beginning career. A do-gooder with a kind heart, an earnest smile, and always a thoughtful word, Flynn was a publicist’s dream.
Well. He was more like her very own, personal, sexy, haunt-her-in-the-middle-of-the-night, make-her-wake-up- gasping dream. He had those big hands and arms bulging with muscles. And his butt… It was the stuff of her very dirty, she-wondered-if-he’d-mind-if-she-spanked-it fantasies…
“Liar,” Nick said softly, shaking her from her thoughts. “The course of true love never does run smooth, does it?”
“Not true. Look at you and Willow.” Nick and Willow were a couple again, after being together years ago, when they were young and stupid and their burgeoning relationship had ended so horribly. Nick had regaled Aubrey with stories about what had happened between him and Willow long ago, when he dumped her like the scared dumbass he’d been, even looking for Aubrey’s opinion at one point as to how he could make it right with Willow.
Now they were the cutest couple she’d ever seen, besides star quarterback, Jared Quinn, and his wife, Sheridan. If she didn’t like them all so much, she’d be filled with an obscene amount of jealousy.
Being surrounded by love and romance when the one you wanted didn’t ever notice you was hard.
“I worked my ass off to make that woman mine.” Nick
tilted his head, his gaze focused over Aubrey’s shoulder. “Hey, he’s over there, talking to Walsh.”
Aubrey whipped around, her eyes locking on the very man she’d been searching for since she’d arrived.
Flynn stood on the opposite side of the restaurant, towering over Jim Walsh, the head coach of the Hawks. At six foot four and 220 pounds, Flynn was a giant—and sexy—hunk of a man, though he seemed oblivious to his power over the ladies. He’d informed her more than once that his body was a machine. He’d been put on this earth to play football, and he was using his body to the absolute maximum to fulfill that prophecy.
When he talked to her like that, she sort of lost herself. She secretly believed he’d been put on this earth to drive her crazy with lust, what with that deep bedroom voice and those intense green eyes. The short dark brown hair she wanted to run her fingers through, his chiseled jaw, that lush mouth that made her imagine what it might be like to be kissed by him…
Focus!
She shook herself, concentrated on Flynn’s body language, which she’d become particularly skilled at interpreting since she’d started working with him. He was tense. She could see it in the firm line of his broad shoulders, the stiff way he held himself. The expression on his face was beyond serious, his mouth turned into a frown, his gaze somber. Whatever Walsh was telling him couldn’t be good.
Which meant she needed to go play interference and quick.
“I’ve got to go,” she murmured to Nick, ignoring the huge, knowing grin on his face. Jerk. She knew he would
keep her crush on Flynn a secret, though. They’d grown close since they’d started working together. She trusted him and he trusted her, like the bossy big brother she’d never had.
Without thought, she wound her way through the crowds of people, all of them there to celebrate the Hawks latest play-off victory. The team was having a superior season so far. She’d been in a celebratory mood, as well, excited at the possibility of her team going all the way to the Super Bowl.
Not that anyone from the Hawks actually ever said those words. That would be a total jinx, and athletes were the most superstitious bunch she’d ever worked with. So they all gathered together and celebrated each individual success while barreling their way toward the ultimate goal.
Super Bowl Champions.
Unfortunately, her let’s-celebrate mood had deflated like a popped balloon when she’d randomly checked Facebook right before walking into the restaurant. So stupid. Why was she still friends on Facebook with Derek-the-ex anyway? She’d immediately ordered a drink at the bar. Then, when she’d overheard the conversation regarding Flynn’s possible nonexistent future with the Hawks, that had called for another drink. Maybe two.
Aubrey stopped short, teetering on the super-high- heeled boots she wore so she could be—talk about wishful thinking—within reach of Flynn’s kissable lips.
God. She was so wrapped up in her lusty thoughts, it was sort of ridiculous. She needed to focus on the here and now, not let her imagination carry her away like it tended to do lately whenever Flynn was around.
Nearly stumbling over her own feet, she stood straighter, brushing off her skirt as she lingered near where the two men stood intently talking, silently arguing with herself over what she should do. Should she interrupt their conversation or wait for them to finish? It was sort of rude and presumptive, barging in on what was clearly a private moment.
Deciding to channel her inner Harvey, she strode right up to them and cleared her throat. Turning to look at her, Walsh had a scowl on his face that indicated his irritation. Flynn’s expression softened, his tense jaw relaxing enough for her to notice. “So sorry to interrupt, gentlemen. Flynn, do you have a minute?”
“Can’t you see we’re talking here?” Walsh grumbled, looking extremely put out.
“Hey Coach, come on. Treat Aubrey with some respect.” Flynn smiled at her, and her knees threatened to buckle at the sight. Would she ever grow used to having that potent grin aimed directly at her? The man had dimples for miles, and she’d always had a weakness for dimples. “Everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine. It’s great,” she reassured, lying through her teeth. “I just—I have something I need to tell you.” Well, that was certainly the truth.
“No problem. We can talk later. Right, Coach?” Flynn asked with a little frown.
Walsh grunted. “If you say so,” he muttered before taking off.
Aubrey watched him go, nerves eating at her insides. Crap, she was…scared. Petrified, really. Her liquid courage was slowly evaporating. What if she confessed all to Flynn and he didn’t feel the same way? Or worse, what if he laughed at her?
She scowled. He wouldn’t laugh. He was too nice. He
always treated her with respect, even when some of the guys would tease her or try to shock her with their colorful language. Not that they blatantly harassed her, but pretty much the entire Hawks team loved to give her a hard time.
Except for Flynn. He was “good ol’ boy” personified. Polite. Demanding respect for her and that she be treated like a lady, which both embarrassed her and made her fall for him a little bit more every time. When they had meetings and Harvey cut her off in his usual way, Flynn always interrupted, asking that they let the lady finish speaking.
It was sweet. He was sweet. And all that niceness intrigued her. Made her wonder if the rumors about his sexual status were correct. Could he really be a twenty-five- year-old virgin? He never denied it. Didn’t confirm it, either, choosing to let everyone speculate instead, which Harvey loved with a fierce passion. Flynn brought the Hawks a lot of media attention, what with his stellar good looks, his wholesome reputation, and the way he’d taken over for an injured Jared Quinn and practically turned the entire past season around.
“So what’s going on, Aubrey? Why do you look so tense?” Flynn’s deep, slightly teasing voice broke through her thoughts, and she lifted her head, her gaze meeting his.
“I’m not tense.” She took a deep breath. She was so tense she could shatter. “Why would you say that?”
“You get this little line right here.” Reaching out, he drew his calloused finger between her brows, easing the line that was, yep, right there. Tingles raced over her skin at his innocent touch, disappointment filling her when his hand dropped away. “I’ve spent enough time with you to know that look when I see it. Don’t tell me you have bad news,
too.”
“No, nothing like that.” She shook her head. Did that mean Coach Walsh had told him he was going to be traded when the season was over? Maybe he was in a terrible mood now. She hoped that what she was about to tell him wouldn’t seem like bad news.”Can we go somewhere more…private?”
“Sure. We can head outside.” He nodded toward the open doorway that led onto a terrace.
“That’ll work.” She released a shuddery breath when he settled his big hand at the small of her back, then guided her through the crowded restaurant. Plenty of people said hello, a few congratulated Flynn, and he smiled obligingly, always friendly, always agreeable.
Nick sent them a smirk as they passed by, but she ignored him, focused instead on the warmth from Flynn’s hand permeating her skin, even through the fabric of her sweater dress. His scent wrapped around her, clean and masculine, and she felt downright tiny standing next to him, despite her too-high boots.
She liked that. A lot. His sheer size made her feel petite and protected. She liked even more how he touched her as if she belonged to him, though she knew he didn’t mean it like that. He was just being polite. He had manners. Respect. His mama had taught him well, and Aubrey appreciated that, really she did.
But she wanted to see Flynn come undone. They flirted sometimes, and she thought she felt that they had a connection. Did he feel it too? She had a feeling he might. She’d seen the way he looked at her when he didn’t think she’d notice. There was interest in his gaze. Undeniable interest.
Just thinking about those moments she caught him staring sent a shiver down her spine. If given the chance, would he become so consumed with passion that he couldn’t resist her? She wanted him to kiss her until they couldn’t breathe, undress her until she was left a naked, shaky mess and then push inside her until the both of them were coming together with erotic moans.
“You okay?” He dipped his head, his mouth right at her ear. They were near the doorway that led to the terrace, which was near the crowded and noisy bar.
She turned to look at him, realizing a little too late how close they were. His gaze was focused on her mouth, making her lips tingle, and she licked them unconsciously, surprised at the sudden energy seeming to bounce between them.
He lifted his gaze to hers, heat filling their brilliant green depths. Hmm, interesting. “Are you cold?” he asked when she didn’t answer.
Slowly, she shook her head. More as if she was so hot she wanted to shed her dress and see what he might do when he caught sight of her sheer white lace bra and matching panties for the first time. “I’m fine. Great. Why do you ask?”
“You shivered.”
At those two words, she promptly shivered again. “Like that.”
“Well, I’m not cold,” she murmured, wondering if he’d get the hint.
Silence hung between them, thick with tension. Everything else in the restaurant, the talking, the music, the sound of glasses clinking and silverware scraping against plates, all faded until the noise became a faint buzz. She could focus on only him, and it seemed, for once, he could
focus on only her.
Not that he didn’t give her his full attention when they talked about work stuff, oh no. He just always seemed restless. A little distracted. He’d listen. He’d nod. He’d give her the right answers and then jam back out onto the field. Or head to the locker room. He never wanted his concentration off football. The game was everything to him.
Well, she wanted to be everything to him. At least for one night…
Her breath leaving her in a shaky exhale, she pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, desperate to find composure. He still hadn’t spoken, still stood so close she could feel his body heat seeping into her. His hand rested on her back, his thumb stroking a maddeningly slow circle, and she went damp at his subtle caress.
God. She was in big trouble if the stroke of his thumb on her back aroused her this much. Couldn’t imagine what might happen if he touched her anywhere else…
“Let’s go outside,” he murmured, surprising her by taking her hand and practically pulling her behind him.
She willingly obliged and let him drag her out of the restaurant, thrilled at the sudden, aggressive move. The cold night air slapped her in the face, shocking a gasp out of her as Flynn led her to the giant tree that stood on the far end of the terrace. The tree was large, with low, overhanging branches wound with twinkling white lights. The branches were currently bare, but the darkened corner offered plenty of privacy.
As in, hardly anyone would be able to see them if they stood there. And didn’t that give her a little buzz of hope?
“What did you want to talk about, Aubrey?” he asked
once they stopped under the tree. They turned to face each other, his hand still swallowing hers whole, and she studied him unabashedly.
He wore a charcoal gray dress shirt, with a single button undone at the neck, and black dress pants, and he looked so hot she almost needed to squeeze her thighs together to stave off the need rushing through her. In his football uniform, in sweats, in low-hanging athletic shorts and nothing else, with sweat running down his chest in rivulets—it didn’t matter. He looked hot. Always.
“Um.” She licked her lips, her brain short-circuiting. Finally she had him where she wanted him, and she was blanking out. She probably had only a few minutes tops, and she’d already messed it up.
“Nice dress,” he said, his voice soft, interrupting her wayward thoughts.
Oh. Aubrey glanced down. The dress was black, clung to her like a second skin, and she’d had a total chicken moment when she’d first slipped it on.Afraid it might look too skanky, as though she was trying too hard. But then she’d put on some black tights and knee-high boots, thrown on a chunky silver necklace, and decided she didn’t look so skanky after all.
That Flynn complimented her, and that he actually noticed she’d put a little extra effort into her outfit tonight, sent her head spinning.
Or maybe that was the alcohol. She couldn’t be sure.
“Thank you,” she said, clearing her throat. She really needed to tell him how she felt. But how? Just blurt it out?
Flynn, I want to have wild monkey sex with you. You game?
Aubrey pressed her lips together. Maybe she should take a more subtle approach.
Want to come back to my place for a drink? And maybe… later…wild monkey sex?
Crap. She was hopeless. Maybe she should be 100 percent truthful.
Flynn, there’s something between us. I know you must feel it, because I feel it, too. So let’s go…have wild monkey sex.
She needed to stop while she was ahead. It wasn’t just about wild monkey sex with Flynn—though she was desperate for that, she couldn’t lie—she also liked him. A lot.
Maybe too much.
Fine. On top of her lusty Flynn-filled thoughts, she was feeling down and out. Rejected. Damn Derek—who she hadn’t thought about in months, who she definitely wasn’t in love with anymore—and his stupid engagement picture. After everything she’d learned tonight, she wanted to be reckless. Throw caution to the wind and indulge in Flynn for just one night. Forget the fraternizing rules and just…do what she wanted. When had she ever done exactly what she wanted with no worry over the consequences?
Never.
Yeah. That sounded perfect. She needed to focus on the here and now. Grab at what she could, even if it really was for only tonight.
She’d take what she could get.
“Your mind is working overtime.” He reached out with his free hand, easing the frown line between her brows with a gentle stroke of his finger. Again. “You think too much.”
“I do?” Her voice came out a breathy whisper. The glow in his gaze was unmistakable, and he bent his head, his
mouth coming closer. Closer…
Her heart leaped into her throat. She couldn’t believe it. This was it. The moment she’d been waiting for since she’d started working with him. She’d fought her attraction because they had a business relationship and she hadn’t wanted to risk taking that relationship any further.
She also hadn’t wanted to risk rejection because… hello…rejection sucked. And she was already feeling pretty low at the moment.
“Yeah, you do,” he murmured, all low and husky. Oh yes, and sexy. “I do, too.”
His admission shocked her. “Maybe all that thinking holds us back,” she suggested, leaning into him slightly.
He backed away, contemplating her, his eyes full of surprise. “You’re probably right.”
Yes, she probably was. She liked that they were on the same page with this conversation. “Instead of thinking so much, maybe we should relax and just…let things happen.” She also liked the way his curious gaze zeroed in on her lips, making them tingle.
“Let things happen, huh? Like what?” He smiled, the sight of it short-circuiting her brain. He was looking at her as if he might want to kiss her. This worked. This worked really well. Seeing the heat in his gaze, having him so close, gave her that last burst of courage she needed.
“Like this,” she whispered. Standing on tiptoe, she braced her hand on his rock-hard chest, aligning their mouths just right. He shifted, she tilted her chin up, and then…their mouths connected.
And her heart threatened to pound right out of her chest at the first, delicious touch.
The kiss was sweet, more of a question than a demand. His mouth was hot and soft, his hand moved to skim across her cheek, down the length of her throat until his fingers rested about her nape. He pulled her in closer, a low murmur escaping him when their bodies collided and she parted her lips.
Letting him in.
He released her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist, his fingers spanning her back, and she murmured his name against his lips. She melted into him, sighing when his tongue rasped against hers and, oh, good Lord, she wondered for a brief moment if she was dreaming.
But she wasn’t. Finally, she was in Flynn’s arms, and there was no going back.
…
Flynn couldn’t believe this was happening. Yeah, he’d been interested in Aubrey from the moment they’d first been introduced, but no way had he been able to act on it. So after a while, he’d put her in the forbidden zone. As in, out of respect for Aubrey, out of wanting to stay professional with the entire publicity team and within the Hawks organization, he’d chosen not to pursue something with her. Hell, he’d stayed away because he didn’t want her to get in his head and screw up his game play while he was in the midst of the play-offs.
Plus, it was in the handbook. Company policy. No fraternizing with fellow employees. He wasn’t about to risk anything when it came to his career. He followed the rules. He definitely didn’t break them.
Not that he’d played much so far. Jared Quinn was, once again, the number-one-ranked quarterback in the NFL, and that left Flynn sitting on the bench in his second-string dust.
And didn’t that just bite his ass?
So he told himself to resist Aubrey Cooper no matter how much he was drawn to her. She made him want to do every dirty, wicked thing he could imagine—and he wasn’t one to let dirty, wicked thoughts derail him from his goals.
Just looking at her, thinking about her messed with his game play. So what the hell was he doing right now, kissing her? This had “mistake” written all over it.
But the magnetic pull between them had been too much to deny. She fit perfectly in his arms. The sweet, honeyed taste of her mouth, how her delicate, wet tongue circled around his, the soft murmuring sounds of pleasure coming from deep in her throat. She’d wound her arms around his neck, her fingers plunged into his short hair, stroking his scalp. Her curvy body was nestled close, and though she wore sexy-as-hell black boots with the highest heels he’d ever seen, he still towered over her.
Flynn broke the kiss first, staring at Aubrey like he was starstruck.Temptation flashed through him.What would she do if he picked her up, his hands gripping that pert ass, and pushed her against the tree? Would she protest or give in with ease? He could slip his hands under the hem of her dress, though she was wearing black tights. He’d rather encounter bare, soft skin…
He’d done a lot of things in his life sexually. Not lately, though. When he was younger, yeah, but once he’d gone pro, he’d wanted zero distractions. His focus was razor sharp and always on his career. Always on football. No girlfriends, no
side pieces, no one-night stands, no groupies, none of that. They didn’t tempt him. No one tempted him. This was how he kept his virginity intact.
Yes, his virginity. He’d had blowjobs, he’d fooled around with women, he’d gone down on them, but he’d never done the deed. He’d decided never to go that far so he wasn’t distracted from football, which had become his whole life. The media might’ve even joked about it, that he saved himself for football. Put in bold print, it sounded kind of lame.
Damn it, though, it was the truth. His focus was all about football. He’d soon started ignoring women completely to focus on the game. He wanted to be the best, and at one point, he’d felt on top of the world.
Then all focus had swerved away from his playing abilities and on to his virgin status. And then it had become this thing that hung over him, reminded him of what an anomaly he was. How his fellow teammates thought he was some sort of weirdo who didn’t like sex.
Aubrey cracked open her eyes, studying him like he’d lost his mind. Which he sort of had—over her. He kissed her again before she could say a word, losing himself in her sweet lips, the soft little moans sounding low in her throat.
He liked sex. And he liked the woman in his arms plenty. So much, that he’d kept her at arm’s length for months for fear of falling hard for her and ruining his concentration. Besides, he wasn’t much of a rule breaker, damn it. If it was against company policy to date a fellow employee, then he wasn’t going to do it.
But screw it. He felt as if everything was uncertain right now, up in the air, unconfirmed. Walsh wasn’t talking—at least he wasn’t talking enough. The conversation they’d had before Aubrey had interrupted them had been full of nothing but a bunch of crap. Coach had acted downright evasive.
The vibe he was getting from his coach? He didn’t like it. At all.
He was tired of worrying about things that were out of his control. What was the big deal if he kissed Aubrey anyway? Maybe he could work her out of his system. Maybe kissing her wouldn’t be all that special and he could walk away from this.
Ha. Tell that to his overheated, turned-inside-out body.
Flynn broke away from Aubrey’s lips to catch some air, though really, he wanted to look at her, memorize this moment when he’d first kissed Aubrey. Even in the dim light, he could see her lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed. She opened her eyes, the dazed look in them sending an arrow of arousal shooting straight through him, making his cock twitch. Pride suffused him. He put that look on her face.
“Flynn.” She pursed her lips, exhaling softly, the sound shaky. “What in the world was that?”
He smiled. She was a bundle of nerves, his publicist. Always running around, a little manic, a lot frantic, riding his ass to do this, do that. She’d been harder on Hamilton, but that crazy guy needed someone to rein him in most of the time.
“I thought it was a kiss? Unless I’m doing it wrong…” A chuckle escaped him, and he hoped she was in on the joke.
“No. You were definitely not doing it wrong.” She blew out a trembling breath, her gaze cautious. “I just want to make sure we’re both on the same page.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure we’re on the same page.” Leaning in, he nuzzled her cheek with his, kissing a soft path along her fragrant skin until his mouth was on hers once more. “A shame you didn’t recognize it.”
She smiled against his lips, her fingers tightening in his hair. “I just thought…”
“Thinking gets you nowhere,” he whispered just before he took the kiss deeper, his tongue thrusting, his mouth devouring. She was a thinker, which meant she set her brain to smoking more often than not. And he wanted her feeling, not thinking or worrying.
He gripped her hips with both hands and pulled her in, wanting her as close as he could get her. This…thing between them had been brewing for a while, torturing him. She’d been by his side almost constantly the past few months, guiding his career, carefully preserving his image.
Every time he was with her, the scent of her hair drove him wild. The way he caught her looking at him, her gaze hungry, her lips damp, echoed an answering call deep within him.
When it came to the women from his past, he’d tended to fall hard and fast, so he generally ruled out all women during the regular season. It was easier that way. He didn’t need sex like the majority of his teammates. He loved women, but he wasn’t a dog, didn’t crave that constant attention the groupies were more than willing to provide. He needed to focus on bettering his game, improving his arm, making himself an invaluable player to the team.
Plus, as weird as it was to admit, the virgin thing brought him a lot of attention. A lot of positive attention, and not just from the female fans. Though they were ever present, dying to help take his virginity in any way they knew how.
That was sort of embarrassing.
Funny, how no other women interested him, though. Not like this one, who was all soft and warm in his arms, her full breasts pressed against his chest, her hands sliding down from his neck to grip at his shoulders with an intensity that told him she wanted more.
Which worked for him because he wanted more, too— plenty more.
“It’s probably not smart if someone catches us,” she murmured minutes later, when it was her turn to come up for air from another amazing kiss.
“Any media at this event?” he asked. She’d know, since she’d helped schedule it.
Aubrey slowly shook her head, her fingers drifting down the front of his shirt, running along the buttons. He wondered if she wanted to undo them, what she might think if she knew he wanted to strip her naked. “If they’re here, they’re not allowed inside. We made sure this is a private event.”
Breathing deeply, he glanced around the terrace, which faced out toward the street. It was quiet, but they were on the back side of the restaurant. Probably the best spot to sneak out of to avoid the paparazzi.
“Can you leave now? Or do you have to stay and work?” he asked.
“Wait a minute.” Her brows drew together and she pressed her hands against his chest, her touch burning through his shirt. “Are you suggesting we…leave? The restaurant?” She paused, wrinkled her cute nose. “Together?”
He toyed with a loose tendril of her hair, the auburn curl wrapping perfectly around his finger. She watched him with those big brown eyes, and damn if he didn’t want to kiss her again. Drown in her.
“I don’t want to stay. Do you?” He was done putting her off, pushing her away because he was trying to do the right thing. He liked her. He wanted her. For once, he was going to be completely selfish and forget about football. He was always sitting on the bench anyway, and besides, they were trading his ass at the end of the season.
He could focus completely on Aubrey, without worrying he could somehow screw up his game.
“But…” Her gaze cut away from his, and she stared out at the empty street. The air was cold, he noticed her shiver, and he tugged her in closer, pleased at how easily she went to him. “This is a celebration for you. For the entire team. You should revel in it as long as you can.”
She was right. This was a once-in-a-lifetime moment, and he should bask in the glow of the Hawks play-off division win. But spending the night with Aubrey was also a once-in- a-lifetime moment, because he had a deep-down feeling he wouldn’t be in San Jose much longer after the season was over. He might get traded for big bucks. Coach had alluded to it, and Walsh rarely exaggerated.
His career wasn’t over, but he didn’t want to leave. If he were traded, would he be ready to be a starting quarterback? Or would he be relegated to the bench yet again? At least with the Hawks, the spot was familiar. He knew his place. He appreciated everything Quinn taught him. The Hawks also had been his favorite team, when he’d been growing up, and it was still an honor to wear the jersey. Would he feel that way about another organization?
He didn’t know. The unknown pissed him off. Better to focus on Aubrey than worry about his career, at least for the moment.
“Maybe I want to revel in you tonight instead,” he murmured, letting his gaze drop to her mouth. He coasted his thumb across her bottom lip, desperate to taste her again.
Aubrey opened her mouth, ready to protest, he was sure of it. But then she clamped those pretty lips shut, her hands skimming down along his sides to rest at his hips. She hooked her fingers around the leather belt he wore, grabbing hold as if she owned him and was making her claim. “Okay. Give me five minutes,” she murmured, a little squeak escaping her when he swooped in and stole a kiss, leaving the both of them breathless as he pulled back.
“Sounds good. I’ll wait for you out here.” He nodded once, released his hold on her, and watched her hustle back into the restaurant. She paused at the door and glanced at him over her shoulder, drinking him in as if she couldn’t quite believe this was happening.
He could relate.
She offered him a little smile that sent a zing to his gut, then turned and scurried into the restaurant, with a speed that impressed. His gaze dropped to her shapely backside, appreciating the way it moved beneath her dress as she slipped inside.
Damn. He broke out into a sweat, and it was cold outside. He could hardly contain the anticipation that rode him hard, over what was about to happen.
Tonight, he was finally going to get Aubrey to himself. Find out exactly what she liked, teach her what he liked, and then they could get to liking each other all night long.
He couldn’t freaking wait.
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