Chapter 5 #4
He reached out with one hand, stroking her hair before holding it in a loose ponytail in his fist. He tugged it slightly, and McKenna lifted her head, tilting her face to his. Those heavy-lidded eyes of hers were going to be the death of him.
“Tank,” she said.
He loved the sound of his name on her lips.
He lowered his face, moving closer to her.
McKenna blinked a few times, as if forcing herself to remember where they were. “We can’t,” she whispered.
“Oh, we definitely can,” he murmured, closing the distance between them until he could feel the heat of her breath on his face, smell the sweetness of the wine she’d drunk.
He was just about to make landfall, about to kiss those plump, sexy lips, when someone tapped on his shoulder, clearing their throat loudly.
Tank turned around, frowning, ready to lay somebody out for interrupting.
He pulled up short. “Coach?”
“Got a couple of sponsors who want to meet you.”
It took Tank a second to shake off the residual effects of his almost-kiss, then another couple trying to figure out why his coach was fucking cock-blocking him.
“Right this minute?” he asked, attempting to temper his tone.
“Yes,” was all Coach Fields said, taking one step to the side while waiting for Tank to lead the way.
McKenna’s cheeks were flushed, her gaze lowered as if embarrassed. He did not like that. She’d been just as drawn to him as he was to her—and as far as he was concerned, there was nothing wrong with that.
Then he glanced around the room and reconsidered that opinion. Kissing her at a work function was a big fucking no-no. He should probably be grateful to his coach for intervening, but he was struggling to feel anything other than disappointment.
“I’ll go back to the table,” McKenna said, trying to walk away.
Tank shook his head and held out his hand. “No. Come with me. You’re supposed to help, remember?” He didn’t need help, but he wasn’t above pretending he did if it kept her close.
She seemed reluctant as she glanced at Coach Fields, but in the end, she accepted his hand. The coach led them to a group of tuxedoed men who were obviously dripping in money. Coach Fields introduced them to only Tank, then took a short step back, leaving him to pick up the conversation.
Tank introduced McKenna as his date, then mentioned her role within the Stingrays organization.
As he talked to the men, he kept his arm around McKenna, who entered the conversation a few times, drawn in by their discussion of the latest Stingrays game.
Eventually, talk turned to local concerts coming to the city within the next few weeks.
Apparently, McKenna loved going to events at Lyric Baltimore, and she was quite animated as she discussed her excitement over going to see some comedian he’d never heard of.
Tank tucked that information away. Once the season was over, he’d get them tickets to a few of the summer shows. He figured he could convince her to go with him by reminding her that he was expected to be on his best behavior until training camp.
He wasn’t the kind of guy who dated, not in any sort of conventional sense. Most—okay, all—of the women he asked out were perfectly happy to be wined, dined, and then taken to bed at the end of the night with zero expectation of a morning-after phone call.
Now, as he considered going out with McKenna, he realized sex wasn’t his primary goal.
He’d be just as happy spending time with her, even if their night didn’t end up in bed.
He wasn’t sure what to do with that feeling, but he decided to roll with it.
It was fruitless to continue trying to explain this unlikely attraction away.
While she wasn’t his type, McKenna had wormed her way under his skin, and he had absolutely no desire to resist the pull.
When one of the men they were talking to continued stealing way too many peeks at McKenna’s cleavage, Tank added jealousy to the list of new emotions he was experiencing.
Unfortunately, once they were off the dance floor, Tank was approached by countless other fans and team sponsors.
Ordinarily, he found those kinds of conversations a grind, but with McKenna by his side, it wasn’t so bad.
Mainly because she was taking some of the pressure off him, the people they spoke to as taken by her as he was.
He was disappointed when the band played the last song, because they were too deep in conversation with local billionaire Lucas Whiting and his wife, Keira—another of Padraig’s cousins—for him to pull McKenna out to the floor for another dance.
When the gala ended, he placed her shawl over her shoulders and tucked her close as they waited for the valet.
Once they were in the car, McKenna fiddled with the radio until she found a song she liked. When they arrived at her house, Tank was once again forced to park halfway down the block.
She tried to insist he could just drop her off, but there was no way he was letting her walk to her door alone after dark, no matter how safe she felt in her neighborhood.
McKenna didn’t put up a fight and even let him hold her hand as they walked. Climbing the three steps to her small landing, he waited as she unlocked the door. Once it was open, she turned to face him.
He hoped she’d invite him in, even though he knew she wouldn’t. While Tank was all-systems go on seeing where this thing with McKenna led, she was too much of a professional to give in to the pull.
Not that he wasn’t determined to test—and break—all of her limits.
“Tonight was fun,” she said, making it obvious they were saying goodbye right here, right now.
“It was. Although, there is one piece of unfinished business.”
McKenna frowned. “There is?”
Tank nodded. “Mm-hmm.” He cupped her cheeks in his large hands, tilting her head so he could see her pretty face.
The quick swipe of her tongue over her lower lip and the way her eyes started to drift closed told him all he needed to know regarding her willingness. Maybe she wasn’t as committed to that professionalism of hers as he’d thought.
Hot damn.
Tank pressed his lips to hers.
His original intent had been to keep the kiss gentle, soft. That idea lasted for all of a second and a half.
Overwhelmed by her taste, her scent, and everything else about her, Tank ran his own tongue over her lips, encouraging her to open for him. The moment she did, he took her with a passion he’d never felt before.
One hand remained on her cheek, the other sliding through her hair, gripping it roughly and using it to twist her head, allowing him to deepen the kiss.
She whimpered hungrily into his mouth. Her tongue stroked his, her desire matching his own.
Tank started to push her inside the house, ready to expand on the embrace, but he’d obviously overplayed his hand, and she broke the kiss.
“We can’t do this,” she said, taking a large step away from him.
“Why not?”
“Because this wasn’t a date. It was work.”
The entire night had felt like a real date to him, so hearing that it hadn’t to her bothered Tank. A lot.
But he decided maybe it would be smart to take things slower with her. Because starting a relationship with McKenna—hell, with any woman—had been so low on his list before tonight, it hadn’t even registered.
The fact he was considering one with McKenna was throwing him for a loop.
Not the desire—he was finished denying that he wanted her—but the how-to.
He’d never had to woo a woman, never had to convince her to go out with him.
McKenna was going to make him work for it, was going to fight him every step of the way.
On top of that, Tank was an impulsive guy. Thinking wasn’t something he ever did. If he wanted something, he just took it. But that wasn’t going to work with her.
So he’d take a knee—only for tonight—and make a goddamn game plan. But he wasn’t going to lie and agree that tonight was just work, because it wasn’t.
When the silence lingered too long, McKenna filled it. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at the game.”
Tank nodded.
“Good luck,” she said.
He smiled. “Thanks.” Then, even though he knew he shouldn’t, he gave her another kiss, careful to keep it quick and platonic.
McKenna’s cheeks were still flushed from their first heated kiss, so he ran the back of one finger over her soft pink skin.
“Good night, Mouse. Sweet dreams.” He sent up a silent prayer that he featured heavily in those dreams.
Tank waited until she got inside her house and he heard the dead bolt slide into place, then he walked back to his car, trying to grapple with all the new emotions flowing through him.
Climbing behind the steering wheel, he started the car, heading in the direction of his condo. He was decidedly grumpy and horny…until his brain kicked in, and he realized that while she might have pushed him away in the end, initially—and for several minutes—she’d kissed him back.
Which meant he wasn’t the only one struggling from this unexpected attraction.
Yeah, he thought.
I can work with that.