Chapter 9 #3
“No, it’s not,” he countered. Hell would freeze over before he let her leave without some assurances that she wouldn’t spend another week hiding from him. “You want to tell me what was going through your head this week?” he asked.
McKenna leaned back against the couch, blowing out a slow breath. When she didn’t reply right away, he said the one thing that had kept coming back to him, day after day.
“You said you wouldn’t regret what we did. Have you changed your mind on that?” He would hate knowing she regretted the single greatest night of his life.
“Yes and no.”
He frowned. “Explain.”
“The sex was incredible,” she admitted, her cheeks flaming bright red. “I mean, like, wow incredible. It’s hard to regret something that came with that many orgasms.”
He laughed, then sobered. “Do you want to give up on the fake dating idea?” Tank kicked himself the moment he asked the question, because he wasn’t sure what he’d do if she said yes.
She sighed. “That would be the easiest solution, but I don’t think we should.
We’ve already established ourselves as a couple, pushing it hard.
Roger even got one of the network guys in the press box to zoom in on me sitting in the front row with Ainsley and Erika at the last home game, the announcer making a comment during a time-out about you, Blake, and Coulton being cheered on by girlfriends.
FYI—I’m glad I didn’t know that camera was pointing at me at the time, or I would have thrown up. ”
Tank wrapped his arm around her, giving her a quick kiss on the side of her head. “You’ll get used to the press eventually.”
“I’m very sure I won’t. On top of me getting splashed on network TV, the posts mentioning us as a couple on social media are lighting up with comments, and for the most part, they’re very positive.
If we suddenly drop the relationship, it’s going to negatively impact all the work we’ve put in because it will reinforce the idea that you’re… ”
“Incapable of maintaining a relationship with a nice girl?”
She crinkled her nose. “Ugh. Nice girl is as bad as the way Benny described me.”
“What did he say?” Tank asked.
“He said I give off girl-next-door vibes.”
Tank tried not to laugh because she clearly wasn’t a fan, but in the end, he couldn’t not. Her boss had hit that nail on the head.
“Asshole,” she muttered, with no heat.
“There’s nothing wrong with being nice, Mouse.”
“Yeah, whatever,” she said, brushing him off. “The point is, it’s too late to put the brakes on…” She paused, waving her hand around, searching for a word.
“TanKenna,” he helpfully supplied.
“I swear to God if you say that stupid name to Benny or Roger, I’ll key your precious Audi.”
Tank held up one hand. “Hey now. Easy on the threats toward my baby. You know I’m protective of her. So we’re staying the course on the relationship.”
“Fake relationship,” she said quickly, correcting him.
“Then it sounds to me like you’ve been working against us this week.”
“Yeah, I know,” she admitted. “It’s just…”
“Just,” he prodded.
“Just that I’m not a one-night stand girl. I’ve only ever slept with men I loved. I’m not good at separating sex and emotions.”
Tank knew it wasn’t her intention, but McKenna had just given him hope. Hope that she was feeling something for him.
But he also knew she was nowhere near ready to admit that—even to herself—given the way she kept insisting on calling this thing between them fake.
So, he would have to continue working that angle.
“What if I taught you how to separate it?” Tank wasn’t proud of that offer, because God knew the line between sex and his feelings for her didn’t even exist.
But she’d hidden from him for a week. He couldn’t go through that again.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“One-night stands don’t have to literally mean one night.”
“You want to have sex again?!” Her eyes were saucers, her question way too loud.
“You’ve spent the last couple of months teaching me how to behave. It might be fun to turn the tables for a little while. Because I can definitely teach you how to be wild. That sounds better than nice, right?”
Damn, he wasn’t sure where the words were coming from, but the fact McKenna appeared to consider his offer let him know she wasn’t fighting this thing between them as hard as he feared.
“It’s just sex,” he said, those three words composing the biggest fucking lie he’d ever told another person.
She bit her lower lip, her desire for him clear as day on her face. But…the practical, logical, professional side of McKenna was a powerful force to be reckoned with.
He could see her compiling a list of a million reasons why they should not have sex again, something he couldn’t let her do.
Tank grasped the back of her neck in one large palm, pulled her toward him, and kissed her, working overtime to wipe every thought out of her head that didn’t include him and a bed.
McKenna stiffened for only a second before responding the same way she always did. Hell, better than she usually did, because she was hardcore kissing him back, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her nails stinging the skin.
This past week had been hell on her libido, too.
“I want you, Mouse,” he whispered, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke. “Sex between us can mean as little or as much as you want.”
McKenna’s brows furrowed.
Tank tried to figure out how to dial that offer back, but he couldn’t. Or more accurately, he didn’t want to.
He needed to play this a hell of a lot cooler, which should have been easy, since the Tank he’d been prior to McKenna’s steady presence in his life was a master when it came to casual affairs. But somewhere along the way, he’d lost his mojo.
So, he kissed her again, deciding the best way to make it across this minefield was by shutting up and not saying a damn thing.
McKenna, mercifully, let his misstep slide, her hands slipping beneath his shirt, seeking out bare skin.
“God, I love your hands on me,” he murmured.
“I want you too. More than I should.”
He responded to that by drawing his lips along the side of her neck, his hands cupping her breasts. They were both wearing too many clothes.
He was about to rectify that when she said, “Just…one more time.”
Tank paused, lifting his lips away from her skin so he could look her in the eye. McKenna fisted his shirt, trying to pull him back where he was, but he resisted.
“No.” He’d already made one concession tonight, allowing her to believe this thing between them wasn’t real. She wasn’t ready to risk her heart yet.
He wanted to blame that solely on the men in her past, the high school boyfriend’s cheating, Dale’s emotional abuse, Eddie’s rejection, but Tank knew plenty of the responsibility lay with him too.
Because of the way he’d acted this past season, revealing himself as a callous, immature man only capable of thinking with his dick.
Hell, hadn’t he told her point-blank that he had no intention of settling down until after he retired from hockey?
Even if he took those words back, telling her he’d changed his mind, he didn’t think McKenna would believe him.
“Tank,” she said, her tone proving she was about to insist.
He wasn’t moved. “This isn’t going to stop after tonight.” If she pushed him away, he’d have to let her, because he refused to make a promise he couldn’t keep, refused to compound the lies.
McKenna fell silent, but this time, he didn’t seek to shut down her thoughts with distracting kisses. It was going to take time to convince her that he wasn’t like any of the men in her past, but he couldn’t do that if she hid from him, avoided him.
“This is a mistake,” she finally said, the slight grimace on her face letting him know she wasn’t going to press the issue.
He hadn’t won the war—not yet—but at least the battle was still ongoing.
“Maybe,” he said, with a playful grin as he pulled her glasses off, placing them on the coffee table. “But we’re going to have one hell of a good time making it. Over and over and over again.”
Finally, at last, McKenna smiled, laughing softly. “You’re impossible. I swear I’m an intelligent woman, and yet with you…”
“You’re the smartest woman I know,” he said, intending to reassure her.
“Yeah, that bar feels low.”
Tank burst out laughing, tugging McKenna down onto the cushions and tickling her while she squealed and tried to break free.
Once he had her beneath him, he decided to put the position to good use, holding his weight on his elbows so he could kiss her.
Given the way McKenna not only returned his kiss but lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist, he assumed whatever doubts she had about sleeping with him again had passed.
Tank continued kissing her—obsessed with her lips—until McKenna turned her head, gasping for breath.
“Take me to your bedroom,” she said, cupping his cheek with her small hand.
Jesus Christ.
Best words ever.
Tank rose from the couch, then picked up McKenna, her breasts crushed against his chest, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, while his hands cradled her ass. He carried her to his room.
McKenna took a quick look around, and it occurred to Tank she was the first woman he’d ever taken to his bedroom.
He knew bringing one-night stands to his home would only spell disaster if he landed a stage-five clinger, so he kept his liaisons either to hotels or the woman’s place.
That afforded him the freedom to leave whenever he wanted.
Bringing McKenna into his room told him just how far gone he was for the beautiful woman, because he didn’t have an ounce of doubt now that she was here…he’d want her to stay.
“Your room is clean,” she observed, as he set her on her feet just inside the door.
“Would it make me sound too cocky if I said I cleaned because I was hoping this was where the night would lead?”
“Yes, but I’ve never known you to hold back on the cocky comments, so why start now?”