Chapter Four #2
"Jesus." I stare at her, mildly alarmed. Maybe leaving the details up to my teammates was not my best idea if that's the kind of scandal she thinks I'm hiding over here. What the fuck have they been floating?
"You can talk to me," she whispers.
"Why?" I ask, pushing away from the wall to close the distance between us. "So you can beat everyone else to the scoop?"
"No…I…" She tips her head back, meeting my gaze. "I can help you, Phoenix. I can—"
I groan, unable to stand the earnest look in her eyes, like she genuinely believes she can save me from whatever I've gotten myself into. My dick presses against my zipper, my heart hammering. Who the fuck is this woman?
I wrap my hand around the back of her neck, drawing her up against me. She tenses slightly, but she doesn't really stop me. Instead, her lips part, her eyes darkening.
"Phoenix." It's supposed to be a warning, but it sounds like a plea.
"I haven't stopped thinking about the way you taste, Cara," I groan, burying my face in her hair to breathe her in.
But that isn't enough contact for me. I don't want to smell her.
I want to drown in her. I want her to forget the rumors, forget why she's so hesitant to give me a chance, and just fucking…
lose it for me. I want her wild and desperate. "Have you thought about me, beautiful?"
"Phoenix," she says again. It's still not a warning.
"You have, haven't you?" I run my nose down her temple toward her ear. "Did you dream about me last night, gorgeous? Was I all over you?"
Her hands twist into my jacket like she's trying to anchor herself to me. The way she groans is part surrender, part frustration. I feel it in my balls and deeper, in that place I want to cede control of to her. She can own me. Fuck yeah, I'll let her.
"Christ," I growl, nipping her ear before I tip her head back, my eyes locking on her lips. "You did dream about me, didn't you?"
"I…I…"
"Tell me."
"Yes," she breathes.
I swoop, crushing my mouth to hers. She whimpers against my lips, her entire body trembling.
I know I'm moving too fast, but I can't stop myself this time.
She's right here, so fucking sweet. I lick into her mouth, kissing her the way I wanted to kiss her yesterday.
I brand her with my tongue, and let her brand me with her taste.
She whines my name, her short nails raking against my sides. My hands slide down her body, touching everywhere. She's so damn perfect. Even through her dress, she's soft and pliable, like she was made to take me. When I reach her ass, I squeeze, unable to help myself.
"Phoenix."
I boost her up, loving the way she immediately wraps her legs around my waist. She clings, her hot little pussy right there.
"Christ, Cara." I pin her against the wall, breathing hard. "You have no idea what you do to me, do you?" I rock into her, just to make sure she feels the truth and knows.
Her head falls back on a moan, her body trembling.
"How wet are you right now?"
"Yes."
"Yes?" I grin, pulling back to look at her. "You're yes wet?"
"I mean, no. I mean…" She squeezes her eyes closed, breathing in through her nose like she's trying to get her shit together. "I mean, I'm not."
"Liar." I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, stroking her cheek. "You want me."
"Whatever." She rolls her eyes, but there's no hiding the hunger stamped across her face or the flush to her cheeks. She's as desperate as I am. She's just better at lying to herself about it. "Put me down."
"Nah. I think I like you right here, gorgeous." I jostle her again, making sure her cunt rides against the hard ridge of my erection. "This is where you belong."
Her lips part again before she gives her head a sharp shake, as if trying to clear it. "We aren't dating, Phoenix. I'm not sleeping with you. How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not interested?"
"Yeah? Is that why you've been at the arena every day this week?" I ask, holding her gaze. "Because you aren't interested?"
"I'm not. I'm just doing my job."
I dip my head, placing it against her ear. "I might believe you," I whisper against the shell of it, "but you're wrapped around me right now, and I can feel how wet you are, Cara. That perfect little pussy is leaving a wet spot on my pants right now."
She growls, the cutest little sound of frustration, and then wiggles, trying to force me to put her down.
I hold onto her for another moment, mostly just because she's grinding all over my cock and it feels fucking magical.
But also because every time she does it, she gasps a little, and I love that sound.
Eventually, she manages to work her way free of me, landing unsteadily on her feet. She sways before she manages to catch herself, her expression all outrage and pink cheeks as she tries to straighten her clothes and fix her hair.
"I'm going to find out what you're hiding," she says. "It'd be a lot easier on you if you just told me."
"You should know better than to believe gossip and rumors, baby," I murmur. "You never know who started them or for what purpose."
"What does that mean?" she asks, her brows furrowing.
"Exactly what I said." I tap her on the nose, smirking. "I'm not hiding anything. But feel free to keep digging."
She gapes at me, her mouth moving like she's trying to formulate a response, but I don't give her time.
I don't want her to figure out that the only thing I'm hiding is that I'm the one who started that damn rumor or why I started it.
She might actually kill me then. Instead, I slip out of the conference room, striding back down the hall.
I make it all of two steps before I run straight into Corey.
"Goddammit," I growl, glaring at him. "Why are you always around to fuck up my good mood?"
"Perks of being me, I guess." He smirks like he has no greater pleasure in life than annoying the fuck out of me. "Where are you going in such a rush?"
"Press pool."
"It's not your day."
"Traded with Ryan."
He stares at me for a long moment and then laughs. "You're that jealous, huh?"
"Of you? Never. Besides, she isn't even there." I arch a brow at him. "But you already know that since you're leaving from there, don't you?"
"Where is she?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" I say, continuing down the hall. I'm not entirely surprised when he falls into step beside me.
"She can date whoever she wants to date, Michaud."
"Yeah, and it won't be you."
"Jealous?" he asks, shooting an arrogant smirk my way.
"Of you? Never," I repeat.
"Right. Think she'll enjoy the opera? Or maybe I should take her somewhere a little more private for our first date."
I stop walking, turning to look at him. He's staring straight ahead, grinning like he's running through the possibilities, already thinking about getting her alone. I know he's doing it with the sole purpose of pissing me off, but dammit. It's working.
Part of me wants to hit him on principle because yeah, I'm jealous as hell of the thought of him anywhere near her. The thought of anyone making her whimper like she just whimpered for me has me ready to snap.
But I can't hit the prick.
"She isn't dating you, Simms," I growl instead, my voice pitched low. "She's mine. If you want to keep breathing, I suggest you fuck off and leave her alone. If I have to warn you again, it'll be with my fist in your goddamn face."
"Whatever you say, Michaud," he says with a laugh. "Whatever you say."
I growl, reaching for him. But he's already wading into the throng of reporters, whistling like he doesn't have a care in the world.
"Goddammit," I mutter, dropping my hand back to my side. Out of all the teams in the world, why the fuck did he have to get signed to this one?