Chapter 5 #3
After fifteen minutes, he managed to break free and tried to spot McKenna in the crowd. The coach was now conversing with Hugh and James, so perhaps she’d managed to find their table.
He groaned to himself when he discovered McKenna had been cornered by Lara.
Fucking awesome.
Tank wasn’t sure when McKenna’s opinion of him started to matter so much, but he liked the friendship that was blooming between them, and he hated to think something either the coach or Lara might say would negatively impact that.
He crossed the room, somewhat covertly. There were more than enough people milling about that he could approach them unnoticed. He was hoping to overhear what Lara was saying, because it was obvious from McKenna’s expression that she wasn’t comfortable with the conversation.
“Wait, I know who you are,” Lara said, snapping her fingers. “Don’t you work in the PR department? You’re like the social media girl or something.”
McKenna nodded. “I am.”
“Oh, well, I guess that makes sense, then,” Lara said, as if she’d just figured something out. “You’re keeping my man on a rather short leash tonight, aren’t you?”
Her man?
The handful of times he’d hooked up with Lara, they’d met at a bar or nightclub, had a few drinks, dirty danced as foreplay, then went back to her place and fucked. No part of that meant he was her anything.
“Tank usually brings me to these events,” Lara continued.
He’d only brought her to one event—the fall fundraiser—so her words were an outright lie.
“Given the video,” McKenna started, but Lara cut her off with a loud scoff and an eye roll.
“I don’t know why Uncle Charles is so up in arms about that video. It was all in good fun.”
Tank decided he needed to cut this conversation short. “There you are, Mouse.” He handed McKenna her glass of wine, then placed his arm around her shoulders. Turning, he faced the other woman and painted on a smile. “Lara,” he said, nodding his head.
“Well, hello, stranger,” she purred. “I’ve been waiting for you to make your way over here to see me.
” She put a hand on her hip, purposely jutting it out in what he knew was a practiced pose, meant to look sexy.
Lara was a beautiful woman, and there was no denying it was her looks that had attracted him.
Tonight, however, he didn’t find himself as drawn to her Barbie Doll features and statuesque figure. Glancing down at McKenna, who was looking at him with those large blue eyes, he found her a thousand times more beautiful.
That realization caught him off guard.
He’d been blaming this strange pull he felt toward her on abstinence; certain the occasional hits of desire were based on the fact he wasn’t getting laid on the regular.
But now, as he stood here between the two women, he was forced to admit it wasn’t a lack of sex driving his needs… but a genuine attraction to McKenna.
What the fuck was he supposed to do with that?
“I have a bone to pick with you, Tank Phillips,” Lara said, playfully. “Why haven’t you been replying to my texts?”
“I’ve been busy. We’re getting close to the end of the season, and I need to focus on the game,” he lied, because he suspected it would be bad idea to tell Lara things between them were over with Charles Steele so close by.
Tank knew a spoiled woman when he saw one, and given things Lara had said in the past, he’d learned early on there was nothing she wanted that she hadn’t been given.
She drove a Porsche 911, had a high-rise condo on the waterfront, and was always dripping in jewelry from Tiffany’s and Chanel bags.
The crazy part was, Tank was pretty sure the woman had never worked a day in her life, though if anyone asked her, she claimed she ran her uncle’s charitable foundation. Up until the video, he hadn’t even cared enough to ask who her uncle was.
“I think they’re getting ready to start serving dinner,” he said to McKenna. “We should probably take our seats. Good to see you again, Lara.”
He guided McKenna away, not bothering to give the other woman a chance to reply.
McKenna waited until they were out of earshot to murmur, “She’s delightful.”
Tank laughed because her tone was the definition of sarcasm. “Right?” he tossed back, as if he’d thought her comment sincere, because he couldn’t help himself when it came to teasing her.
McKenna nodded her thanks when he pulled out her chair. “She’s still texting?”
“Yes, and as you heard, I haven’t replied,” he said, uncertain why he felt the need to say that.
“I’m glad. I don’t know that she’d make texts between the two of you public, but I don’t get the sense she’s very bothered by that video.”
She wasn’t. Lara loved attention, good or bad.
“What else did she say to you?” he asked.
“Not much. At first, she was kind of catty. Typical girl stuff. I’m here with you, and she doesn’t like it. She pointed out I wasn’t your usual type, probably hoping to make me insecure. God, some women are real bitches.”
Tank chuckled. “Yeah. They are. Hope you didn’t let any of the shit she said bother you.”
McKenna shot him an “are you kidding?” look that made him laugh again.
“I wasn’t born yesterday, Tank. And I’ve been a girl my whole life.
I’ve been on the receiving end of crap like that before.
There was this guy in my dorm freshman year who hung out in my room a lot—just as a friend—because we both loved the same video game.
I didn’t realize the girl across the hall had gone out with him a few times, and she didn’t take it well when he broke things off.
When she saw him coming out of my room late one night, she attacked me the next morning.
Said a bunch of shit meant to make me feel bad about myself.
Maybe if I’d liked the guy it would have mattered, but he was kind of an idiot, so I just laughed it off. ”
McKenna was so different from the woman he’d thought she was when they’d first been introduced.
As he peeled back more layers of the onion, he kept finding more to like.
She was confident, intelligent, and driven, and yet she hated being the center of attention.
Every single thing he learned about her fascinated him, made him want to discover more.
As soon as they found their seats, dinner was served. They’d been placed at a table with four other couples, and conversation flowed easily. After the dessert plates were cleared, a band started playing popular dance covers. Several of his teammates and their dates were already out on the floor.
Tank glanced in McKenna’s direction, lifting his brows and tilting his head in the direction of his friends shaking their booties on the dance floor.
McKenna shook her head. “No thanks. I don’t dance.”
Tank grinned as he took her hand. “You do tonight.”
Part of him expected her to kick up a fuss, so he was delighted when she held on to his hand, rising. Tank took a second to let his gaze slide over her body in that sexy dress. She really was breathtaking.
As soon as they reached the floor, Tank tugged McKenna against him, her breasts brushing against his chest, her hands gripping his waist.
“Tank,” she said, in a slight tone of surprise. He spun her away from him, his hands spanning her tiny waist.
He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear when he hummed, “Hmm?”
McKenna’s head fell slightly to the side, though Tank was certain that was unintentional. Regardless, it gave him better access to the side of her neck.
“You smell so good.” He spoke the words against her throat, loving the slight shiver it provoked.
There wasn’t a doubt in his mind, McKenna would be a very responsive lover. Even now, he could see her hard nipples pressing against the thin material of her dress.
He shouldn’t be thinking about her that way, but he was done fighting with himself. He wanted McKenna Bailey. It was as simple and as insane as that.
Whatever McKenna’s hang-ups about dancing, they weren’t apparent right now. She pressed her back against his chest, her hips swaying in time to the music—under the direction of his hands. Her eyes were closed, but they opened quickly when, on one brush of her hips, she discovered he was hard.
She looked over her shoulder at him, her face flushed. He didn’t have to be a genius to know her red cheeks this time were the result of arousal.
This dance had gotten out of hand very quickly.
He and McKenna locked eyes, and then she slowly turned around. He got the sense she intended to pull away, but he wasn’t ready to let her go, so Tank retained his grip on her waist.
The music changed, a slow song beginning. The band did one hell of a great rendition of “Die with a Smile” by Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga. Tank slid his arms around her back.
McKenna went stiff, but only for a moment before giving in, lifting her hands to his shoulders. Tank might have thought the difference in their heights would make dancing hard, but the truth was they fit together perfectly. Granted, the heels were contributing to that.
McKenna wasn’t what he’d call feminine. She didn’t subscribe to so many of the things the women he slept with did. Things like makeup and fancy hairstyles, stylish clothing, and an abundance of shoes and handbags.
She wore tatty mom jeans, T-shirts, and cardigan sweaters. The only makeup he’d ever seen her apply was Chapstick, and her long red hair was only ever pinned up in a messy ponytail or those adorable Mouseketeer buns.
So seeing her tonight, in her hip-curving sapphire dress, with her hair down and that smoky look lining her blue eyes, was a goddamn revelation.
Now that he’d seen all that hair, he feared he’d be hard-pressed not to start pulling the bands out at every opportunity, just so he could run his fingers through the silky auburn waterfall.