Kelly Jamieson - Faceoff

It was their last night together.

He wasn’t supposed to think about that. He was just supposed to remember how much fun this week had been, how beautiful she was, how hot the sex had been. It was just sex.

He buried his face in the side of her neck and breathed in her scent, a scent he would never forget, spicy sweet and coconutty. Maybe she only smelled like that here at the lake from the sunscreen she used, but he loved it. He opened his mouth on the soft skin there and tasted her.

Her hands ran up and down his back and she made needy little noises deep in her throat. He lifted his head and raised his hand to her forehead, pushing her hair back, resting his hand there. Gazing down at her, he said, “You know how much I love foreplay.”

“Yes,” she breathed. “You’re a god. A foreplay sex god.”

He couldn’t help the laugh her words tugged out of him. Jesus. “I’m just warning you, tonight’s not about foreplay. I have to be inside you, Kyla, like now.”

“Okay, yes, yes.” She wriggled her hips against him again, sending flames shooting from his balls up his spine. He groaned.

He rose up to strip off her T-shirt, tonight a little black one that said “Lawyers do it with appeal”. He’d shaken his head in amusement earlier when he’d seen her in it. Now it was coming off.

She half sat so he could pull it over her head, her hair a wild tangle around her head once the shirt had dragged through it. Hot. He reached behind her to unfasten her bra. Another source of fascination, the underwear she wore beneath those saucy little Ts and short shorts, all silky and sheer and lacy, in colors of bubble gum and peach and lemon.

She lifted her hips so he could pull off the little shorts and tiny thong panties. His heart raced in his chest and his dick throbbed. He bent his head to kiss each thigh, drew her scent inside him, kissed the patch of curls between her legs. He slipped his hand between them as he moved back over her. “Oh yeah,” he said. “So wet.”

He yanked his own T-shirt over his head, then stripped off his cargo shorts along with his briefs. With warm eyes and a sweet smile, she watched him as he moved back over her, supporting himself on his arms while he kissed her mouth again. Her hands came up to his waist.

More emotion rose inside him, surprising him, almost choking him, and then he was inside her, her sweet heat clasping him, her hips lifting to meet his. “Yes,” she whispered. “God, yes. Tag. Fuck me.”

Oh yeah. Oh yeah. He kissed her, then moved back onto his knees, spread wide. She raised her knees for him and he thrust in deeper still, so deep, fucking her deep. He curved his hands around her slender waist and held her, bracing her for each plunge of his cock inside her. Her breasts quivered, so soft and perfect. Her lips parted and she gazed back up at him with those beautiful dark eyes, full of something…

He closed his eyes, his heart stuttering. His breath dragged in and out of his lungs as pleasure poured through him with each stroke. And then he had to look at her again, to see her face even though what he saw there made his insides tremble.

Lots of times good sex made him feel like he was in love, and maybe he was, a little, with the woman he was with at the time, but it didn’t usually last and the one time he’d let it, he’d ended up fucked over. He’d vowed that would never happen again, so sex was sex and that was all it was.

This was so much more than sex it made his heart hurt. But Christ, he couldn’t go there again. With a long shredded groan, he fell over her and buried his face in the side of her neck, sucking her flesh so gently, licking her there, his arms around her head. Her fingernails bit into his back, scraped up and down, and every nerve ending ignited. They moved together perfectly in exquisite unison, their bodies fitting together flawlessly, the drag and pull of her pussy on his dick an almost unbearable sweetness. Tension coiled inside him, a twisting flame, and he gasped her name.

She urged him on with whispers and murmurs, her legs wrapped around his hips, rocking and clutching, and once more he lifted up to kiss her, his hand on her forehead, then he looked down at her. Her eyes glowed with unspoken emotion, a connection between them he could feel pulling them together. His chest clenched, his body tightened and he was gone, all the way gone, every thought in his head lost, just feeling, feeling her around him, her hands on him, feeling love.

Kyla had the hour-long drive back to Winnipeg to do a lot of thinking. A lot of thinking about Tag. About what had happened last night between them. She’d come so close to telling him she loved him and she didn’t even know where the words had come from. They just seemed to rise up inside her, uncontrollable. It was ridiculous. She had no intention of falling in love or messing her plans up with a relationship. Guys expected too much—they wanted all her attention, didn’t want her working sixteen-hour days, expected her to be free on weekends.

Who the hell was she kidding? Who wanted that kind of life forever? She wasn’t stupid, but she’d definitely been blind. Or blinkered. Or stubborn. Whatever. The closer she got back to the city, the tighter her stomach got and the more her head began to ache from clenching her jaw.

She had time to think about her career and all the questions Tag had asked that she didn’t want to answer. She had time to think about her dad’s words to her, about family being first. The truth was, when she really thought about it, she hadn’t been entirely happy for a while. And looking into the future, even if she did get what she wanted, which was making partner, she wasn’t so sure now she’d be any happier. A heaviness filled her.

Her BlackBerry, plugged into the charger, chimed on the seat beside her. It was against the law to talk on a cell phone while driving, so she just glanced at it. Then it chimed again. And again. Shit.

She grabbed the phone, hoping there weren’t any RCMP cars out patrolling to see her, and thumbed the track ball. Christ. A ton of missed calls, starting Wednesday. All from the office. That iffy cell-phone coverage up at the lake had let her down.

She tossed the phone down and bit her lip. What was she going to do about it now, on a Sunday evening?

But she found herself parking in the small loading zone outside the Richardson Building. She could run into the office and her car would be okay there on a Sunday night for a couple of hours.

She turned on the lights in her office and powered up her computer. She surveyed the folders and documents that had piled up in her week’s absence.

Three hours later, she’d checked emails, found out what all the calls were about, done some research and had solved the problem. Now she was ready for Monday morning. Sure she was.

Her condo felt empty and cold when she walked in even though she’d turned down the air conditioning before she’d left. She didn’t bother with lights, just grabbed a pair of pajamas out of a drawer, washed her face and climbed into bed.

Alone.

For the first time in a week, she slept alone, her bed cold and empty, especially after last night, after the impassioned, heated way she and Tag had come together. She’d felt so cherished, so cared for, so free to be herself without judgment, only respect. Admiration and affection had emanated from the depths of his dark eyes as he watched her with steady eyes while they made love. She rolled, turning her face into her pillow and closing her eyes, an ache of longing spreading through her body. Tag.

Hell. If she needed an orgasm she could give that to herself. She slipped her hands under her shorts and between her legs. But it only took a few seconds to realize she wasn’t in the least turned on. She just…missed him. She was in big trouble because she didn’t need sex…she just needed Tag.

Tag and Jase left Twin Pines Country Club after finalizing some details for the charity golf tournament the four brothers were hosting the next day. They climbed into the Jeep Cherokee Tag had just bought a week ago and Tag reversed out of the parking spot.

“Looks like we’re good to go,” Jase said.

“Yeah.”

“You did a lot of work on this.”

“Yeah. You guys weren’t here, so someone had to do it.”

When Jase said nothing, Tag glanced sideways at him and caught his pissed-off look. “What?”

“We couldn’t get here any sooner, Logan or me. Matt was here and he said he helped.”

“Yeah, he helped a little.” Tag shrugged.

“What the hell’s your problem?” Jase demanded as Tag pulled out onto Highway #1 just outside the Perimeter.

“I don’t have a problem.”

“Yeah, you do. You’ve been snarly all week, with everyone. Ever since we came back from the lake.”

“I’ve just got a lot on my mind. There’s a lot of stuff going on with the team and this golf tournament.”

“Yeah. And what else?”

Tag shot him an annoyed glance. “Nothing else. Lay off, all right?”

Thick silence filled the Jeep and Tag stabbed at the button for the radio. The music of Eminem filled the Jeep, the expensive sound system creating a deep booming bass. Jase reached over and cranked the volume down.

Tag glared at him again.

“What’s bugging you?” Jase asked again.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” Jase sighed. “Jesus. Are you really that pissed off that you had to do most of the work for this tournament?”

Tag sighed. “No.”

“Okay, I’m gonna go out on a limb here. Does this have anything to do with Kyla?”