Chapter 12
Lia walked the halls of the Hotel Alanda like a ghost.
Her whole world had tilted off-kilter in the space of half an hour, sitting on a faded red couch in Erin Finch’s hotel room.
Had it been a dream? The memory was already hazy.
No way Erin had tried to kiss her, right?
Erin, who insisted on not getting close to anyone, who would never lower herself to anything other than forced politeness with her teammates?
No, that Erin would never.
Except…she had. She’d looked at Lia with hooded, dark eyes, and surged close, close enough for Lia to feel the ghost of her touch, her heat, her racing heart.
The only explanation must be that Erin had somehow hit her head as well as injured her hamstring. Clearly, she wasn’t in a right frame of mind. Because Erin tolerated Lia nowadays, but she’d never given the merest hint of anything more.
And now Lia was supposed to forget it had happened?
A hysterical laugh bubbled to the surface as Lia stepped outside into the dark. The pool glittered in front of her, the surface rippling in the wind that also whipped at her hair.
Disco music came from the hotel bar, along with the excited chatter of the teammates Lia had left behind in order to check on Erin. She should go back, but how could she when everything had changed in the blink of an eye? Lia felt like an entirely different person.
Because she couldn’t stop wondering what might have happened if she hadn’t stopped Erin. What would Erin’s lips have felt like, moving against hers? Was Erin as good at kissing as she was at football? Would she have wanted to take the lead, or would she have let Lia take over?
With a groan, Lia sat heavily on an empty sun lounger and glanced at the sky and the stars twinkling overhead. The thing was—before tonight, she hadn’t thought of Erin in any particular way.
Sure, she had eyes. Erin was attractive, and Lia had thought so ever since Erin had burst on the scene when Lia was a starry-eyed teenager. She could blame some of that attraction on a dash of hero worship.
But since coming to Albion, Lia had never allowed herself to think of Erin as anything other than her teammate.
A clear line had been drawn in the sand there—by both of them.
Erin had rules, and Lia knew from bitter experience that they were good ones—ones she’d sworn to adopt herself in order to avoid another Hannah situation.
Now, she had an itch under her skin, a burning desire to know what Erin would feel like pressed against her, a distracting need to know the cadence of Erin’s lips against her own.
Lia was utterly ruined, and they hadn’t even done anything.
Filled with restless energy, she pushed herself to her feet. Was it too late to go for a run? Or maybe she should leap into the pool—it would be as effective as a cold shower and might dull the ache that had settled between her thighs.
Or…she could return to the fifth floor, knock on the door to room 512, and demand to know what Erin had been thinking. Why she’d done this to her. Ask her how on earth Lia was supposed to pretend nothing had happened—though, technically, it hadn’t.
Yet.
Because there was another way to dull the ache that wouldn’t involve drenching herself in chlorinated water.
It was a terrible idea, of course. Lia should walk away—and stay away. Erin was dangerous, a flickering flame daring her to lean in close enough to get burned. Erin was everything Lia had sworn she’d never involve herself with again.
But Lia had never been good at steering clear of danger.
What she did excel at, though, was going after what she wanted.
* * *
Erin didn’t make a lot of mistakes in life.
She was careful. Meticulous. She thought ten steps ahead to make sure everything went to plan. But when she did make a mistake, boy, did she go hard. And trying to kiss Lia Ashcroft was a mistake of epic proportions.
Lying in the dark after Lia had gone, staring at the hotel room ceiling fan, Erin kept replaying the moment over and over in her mind. When was the last time she’d done something so stupid?
And even more stupid: What upset her the most was the fact that Lia had pushed her away.
Someone knocked on her door. Erin glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Midnight. Alex wouldn’t call on her so late. But Lia wouldn’t have come back, would she?
Erin ignored it—she didn’t want to see anyone anyway. They’d soon go away.
Another knock. This one was louder, more insistent. “I know you’re in there, Erin. Let me in.”
God, it was Lia. What had she come back for? To rub salt in the wounds? To ask Erin what the hell she’d been thinking?
Erin wasn’t entirely sure she could answer that question.
“I’m going to keep knocking until you open this door.” Lia continued to tap her knuckles against the wood. “I can stand out here all night.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Erin wrenched off her covers and stalked to the room door for the second time that night. This time, she only opened it a crack. “What do you want?”
“To talk.”
“Okay. Go ahead.”
Lia glanced over her shoulder. “In private.”
“I don’t see anyone else around.”
“Do you really want one of our teammates to walk by and overhear us?”
“Fine.” Though her brain screamed at her not to, to keep Lia at arm’s length, Erin waved Lia inside. She closed the door behind Lia and leaned her back against it as Lia stood behind the couch.
Since Lia had left earlier, Erin had changed into her pyjamas.
The shorts left her legs bare, the tank top tight enough to make it obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra, and Lia’s eyes traced over her skin before snapping back to meet Erin’s gaze.
Even from a few feet away, Erin could tell her eyes were dark. “W-what do you want to talk about?”
“Why did you try and kiss me?”
Erin tried not to wince. Well, at least Lia was being direct. “I told you. I wanted a distraction.”
“And you thought that was a good idea?”
“No. I thought it was a terrible idea.”
“But you did it anyway.” Fingers digging into the fabric of the couch, Lia rested her hands on either side of her hips. “Why?”
“Because I wanted to.” Erin whispered the traitorous admission as loudly as she dared. “Happy?”
“No, Erin, I’m not happy.” Lia crossed the distance between them faster than Erin could blink. “Because I can’t stop wishing I hadn’t stopped you.”
Erin’s heart thudded hard in her chest. This close, she could see the flush on Lia’s cheeks and breathe in the scent of her perfume. “Then why did you?”
“Because I thought it was a terrible idea, too.”
“Why did you come back?”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about it.” Lia loomed closer until she was all but pressing Erin against the door. “Because I can’t think about anything else.”
“Me, either.” It took every ounce of Erin’s self-control to keep her palms flat against the wood instead of curling them around Lia’s hips. “But it’s still a bad idea.”
Lia sighed. “I know.”
Goose bumps rose in the wake of her warm breath on the skin of Erin’s neck. “So where does that leave us?”
“I know you have a rule. No teammates. No relationships. No drama. But what about one night? One night of distraction, to get this out of our system, and then we just forget it ever happened.”
Erin swallowed. The terms seemed simple enough. Easy to stick to, considering how staunch she’d been the last few years. And Lia wouldn’t suggest it if she didn’t think she could stick to it too, right?
“One night, huh? That’s all?”
“I wouldn’t ask you for more.” Lia swayed closer until her chest brushed Erin’s.
Beneath the thin material of Erin’s shirt, her nipples hardened, straining against the cotton. Judging from Lia’s soft groan, she noticed.
“So, what do you think?”
Erin didn’t waver. Her decision had been made the second Lia had opened her mouth. Sure, she might regret it in the morning, but she was thinking with her more basic instincts now. There was no reason she and Lia couldn’t be professional about this. No reason why it had to be a big deal.
No reason why Erin couldn’t get exactly what she needed from Lia and then go back to being teammates.
“I think,” Erin said, finally, finally, curving her hands around Lia’s hips and running her thumbs along the lines of her hip bones, “that sounds like an excellent solution.”
This time, when she leaned close, Lia didn’t push her away.
* * *
Erin’s mouth was hot and hungry as it moved against her own.
Never in her wildest dreams had Lia imagined something like this—Erin’s lips on hers, Erin’s tongue in her mouth, Erin’s hands gripping her hips hard and holding her close.
It meant Lia had Erin backed against her hotel room door, the full length of her body pressed against Erin’s, and, oh, what a body it was.
Toned, lithe muscle. Small but perfect breasts—with hardened nipples already straining against the fabric of her shirt. Lia didn’t know where to start. But she did know that by the end of the night, she wanted to map every inch of Erin Finch with her hands or her mouth.
Lia started with Erin’s neck, trailing kisses over the smooth skin.
Feeling a frantic pulse thrumming beneath her lips, Lia lingered, flicking her tongue over the skin there.
Erin rewarded her with a moan, then tangled a hand in Lia’s hair, fingers gripping tight enough to smart, but also feeling so damn good.
Lia’s questing mouth reached Erin’s collarbones, and her hands skimmed Erin’s sides until she was cupping her breasts. Circling Erin’s nipples with her thumbs wasn’t enough—she needed them in her mouth.
Based on the way her back arched when Lia pulled down her shirt, baring her breasts to the cool night air, Erin needed that, too.
Before leaning in, Lia allowed herself a moment to admire the sight of them as Erin’s chest heaved with laboured breaths; she committed it to memory.
Insistent, Erin tugged at Lia’s head, guiding her toward a straining peak.