“I told you to sit.” She ran one hand behind her neck and lifted her hair as she slid her other hand across her stomach. It had been years since she’d danced for a man, but she hadn’t forgotten. She moved toward him,
step step pause…step step pause, touching her body as she looked him up and down, and letting her gaze turn all hot and sensual.
His gaze slid down her body, stopping at her hands before continuing to her feet. “I like the shoes.”
“Thank you.”
Step step pause…step step pause. “I’m sure you are well aware of the rules.”
“There are no rules,” he said as he sat.
A sexy smile touched her lips. “No touching,” she informed him as her fingers slid upward and she cupped her breasts. “I can touch you. You can’t touch me.”
His brilliant blue eyes stared up at her. “Ah. Those rules.”
She grinned as she walked around him, trailing a hand across his shoulders. From behind, she leaned forward and ran her hands down his chest. “I’m hot. Sticky sweet,” she whispered along with the words of the song into his ear. “From my head, to my feet.” She continued around him, then straddled his lap, facing him.
He ran his hands up the backs of her legs to her bare behind and pressed his face into her cleavage.
“No touching,” she reminded him and removed his hands from her behind. She sat with the skimpy crotch of her G-string inches away from the zipper of his pants. She ran her hands over his chest, rocking her hips, coming close to touching the bulge in the front of his pants, but always pulling back.
He groaned deep in his chest and sucked in an agonizing breath. “Touch me, Faith.”
“I am.”
“Lower.”
Instead of doing as he asked, she stood and teased him with her hands and body. She took off his tie and shirt and rubbed against him, turning up the heat and turning them both on, her hard nipples grazing his chest through the thin lace of her bra.
He reached for her and she danced out of his grasp. “This is killing me,” he said, his voice a lusty gravel. “Come slide your little hand into my pants, and I’ll slide my hand into yours.”
“That’s real tempting, but I’m pretty sure that’s against the rules.” She turned with her back to him and sat, grinding her bare behind into him. His palms slipped up her back and he unhooked her bra.
“That’s definitely against the rules.”
“Fuck the rules.” He kissed her spine and slid his hand up her stomach to cover her naked breasts. “We don’t play by the rules.”
Chapter 17
You’d be surprised at the number of men who slipped their number in my G-string.”
Ty wouldn’t be surprised at all. Faith lay with her head on his bare chest, brushing her fingers across his stomach. The tips of her short nails spread fire to his belly and groin and if he had the time, he’d make love to her again. If he had time, he’d damn sure have her dance for him again. She’d been beautiful and erotic and he’d loved it. “Did you call any of them?”
She looked up at him and rolled her eyes. “Sure. Like I would ever date a man I met in a strip club.”
“I’ve hung out in a strip club a time or two.”
“I’m not surprised. Strip clubs attract jocks and musicians like ants to a picnic.”
“I haven’t been in a few years,” he defended himself, although he wasn’t quite sure why he felt the need to. He ran his hand down the smooth skin of her back. “My father still loves the strippers.”
“Which explains his attraction to my mother.”
“Your mother was a stripper?” Again, no big surprise.
“Yep. She was a stripper and sometimes a cocktail waitress.”
“Sounds like she worked hard.”
“She did. She played hard too. I was alone a lot.”
“Where is your father?” She rubbed her foot on the inside of his calf and came dangerously close to kneeing him in the nuts.
“I haven’t seen him since I was little.”
He rolled her onto her back and looked down into her face. “You’ve never tried to find him?”
“Why? He didn’t want to know me. Why would I want to know him?”
Good point.
She pushed a piece of blonde hair from her face. “What about your mother?”
He fell onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. He didn’t like to talk about his mother. “What about her?”
“Where does she live?”
“She died about five years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
He looked across the pillow at her. “Don’t be.
She wasn’t.” He ran his gaze across her beautiful face. Her green eyes and long lashes. Her perfect nose and the bow of her full pink lips. “My father has always said that she was crazy, but that’s because he never tried to understand her.”
She turned on her side. “Did you?”
He shrugged. “She was very emotional. Laughing one minute, crying the next. She never got over the divorce, and I don’t think she had a real interest in living after that.”
“When did your parents divorce?”
“I was ten.”
She looked into his face and her smile was sad when she said, “I think my mother was on her third divorce when I was ten. I used to ride my bike to dance classes at the Y so that I didn’t have to think about it.”
He pictured a little girl on a pink Schwinn, her blonde ponytail flying behind her. “I played hockey twelve months out of the year.”
“Well, all that hard work paid off.”
He’d had great coaches to fill the voids in his life. Good men and mentors. He wondered if she’d ever had anyone. He bet not. “So did your dance classes.”
She laughed. “Yeah, but not with the moves I learned as a kid. I had to learn all new moves.”
He liked her moves. Especially tonight. While it was true that he’d played great hockey Monday night, he really didn’t believe it had anything to do with sex. He’d just used it as an excuse to be with her. He loved the touch of her skin beneath his hands and the look of pleasure in her eyes when he was buried deep inside her. He was quickly becoming addicted to the sound of her pleasure and knowing he was the one giving it to her. Even on days when he told himself he didn’t have time for her, he managed to hook up with her anyway.
Ty sat on the edge of the bed and scrubbed his face with his hands. She was an addiction. Why else would he risk everything to be with her? How else could he explain it to himself?
“Are you leaving so soon?” she asked as she moved behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her breasts pressed into his bare back and he fought the urge to turn and push her back down on the mattress.
“I have to go before I’m missed.” He wanted to ask more questions about the little girl on the bike. To spend all night discovering all the moves she’d learned.
She softly kissed the side of his neck. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow night after work.” He looked into her eyes a few inches from his and wondered how much she’d miss him. “I have a game to win. And a few more after that.”
She sat back on her behind and wrapped her arms around her knees. She looked up at him as he stood and got dressed. “What are you going to do after you win the cup? Are you going to take a long vacation?”
“I never think that far ahead.” He stepped into his boxer briefs and adjusted his package.
“You never think about what you’re going to do after you win?”
“Sure. After I win, I’m going to skate around with the cup over my head.” He pulled up his trousers and looked at her, sitting in the middle of the bed, naked and perfect. “My focus has always been on winning. For as long as I can remember, that’s been my goal.” He’d never really thought beyond that. “I’ll work out and keep the body in shape so I won’t show up at camp fat and out of shape like some of the guys.” He reached for his dress shirt on the end of the bed and shoved his arms inside. But as he worked the buttons, he thought about Faith in a bikini, lounging on a sandy beach beside him. The sun warming her smooth skin. Maybe she’d have on a floppy hat and big sunglasses.