Chapter 8 #3
She didn’t even bother to minimize the damage by referring to last night as a momentary lapse in judgment.
Because she wasn’t sorry.
She’d never had a one-night stand before, explaining that away by saying she wasn’t the type. She was rethinking that stance, realizing the reason she’d never indulged in one was because she’d never been presented with the opportunity.
Last night, she was.
And holy fuck, was she happy about that. Because the entire evening had been hot and amazing and…perfect.
Her phone buzzed again. She’d plugged it into the charger last night after stripping out of her wet clothing and putting on her pajamas.
Slowly extricating herself from Tank’s warm embrace, she rolled over and somewhat blindly reached around on her nightstand, searching for her glasses before recalling she’d left them on the coffee table in the living room.
Unplugging the phone, she held it close to her face and saw it was a text from her mom.
“Who texts you at six a.m.?” Tank asked, his voice gruff from sleep and very, very sexy.
“My mother. I’m usually up by this time, getting ready for work. I forgot to text her last night.” McKenna quickly replied with a simple, “Good morning,” not bothering to read her mother’s messages.
“You text her every night?”
“Not every night, but she knew I was going to the pub with you to see Hunter perform. I’m guessing she expected me to call and give her all the details.”
“Is she a Hunter fan too?”
“I’m pretty sure every woman with eyes and ears is a Hunter fan, Tank.”
He shifted toward her, wrapping a strong arm around her waist so he could pull her flush against him. “If you wanted a morning quickie, Mouse, all you had to do was ask. No need to try to make me jealous.”
She laughed, trying—and failing—to swat him away. “You used all the condoms.”
Four. Of. Them.
In one night.
Tank had told her they would, but she hadn’t truly believed him.
At least not until he’d roused from a deep and dreamless sleep.
Tank’s fingers had been slowly sliding in and out of her soaking-wet pussy.
She didn’t know how long he’d been playing with her, so she didn’t know if that arousal was the result or if drenched-and-ready-to-roll was just becoming her permanent state around him.
She had half-heartedly grumbled about being sleepy. Mercifully, he’d ignored her, slipping on the last condom and taking her hard and fast, both of them coming within minutes.
Her phone pinged again.
“Was she worried about you getting home okay?” he asked.
McKenna shook her head. “Nope. She’s got my location on Find My Friends, so she probably knew the second I got in last night.”
He chuckled. “Your mom stalks you?”
McKenna twisted to her back, loving the way Tank’s hand casually lifted, cupping her breast as if they’d been in this position a thousand times before.
“I’m a twenty-four-year-old woman who lives alone in a big city.
I prefer to think of it as she’s looking out for me.
The same way I look out for her. Because I have her location, too. ”
“Do you have to check up on your mom a lot?”
“Not really, but I miss her. So there’s some comfort in clicking on her location a few times a day, just to feel connected to her.
Not that there’s ever any big surprises as far as where she is.
During the day, she’s at work. On Thursday afternoons, she’s at a local pub for happy hour with the girls from her office.
One Saturday a month, she’s at Melanie Johnson’s house for her monthly book club meeting, and then there are the times when she goes out on dates.
Those nights I do stalk her, just to make sure she gets home okay. ”
“That’s sweet,” he said, and she could tell he meant it. “It’s nice that you look out for each other.”
“Oh, I’m way easier to keep track of than her. Unlike me, my mom goes on dates all the time. She’s just got one of those personalities.”
Tank tucked his arm under the pillow, his hand drifting down to rest on her stomach. “What do you mean?”
McKenna placed her hand on top his, toying with his fingers. “Mom is vivacious, the life of every party. Men tend to flock around her because she’s intelligent, fun, and she’s got a wicked sense of humor.”
“And you think you don’t have that kind of personality?”
McKenna snorted. “You’ve been out with me, Tank. You know perfectly well I’m not the life of any party. I’m more likely to blend in with the wallpaper.”
Tank lifted his upper body, supporting it on his crooked elbow. “Mouse, we could be in a room with a thousand people right now, and you’d be the only person I’d see.”
She froze for a moment, searching for a response to that because…wow. Finally, she just gave him a grin. “Smooth,” she teased.
Tank didn’t smile, his expression too serious.
“McKenna. I know you think I’m a player, and I get that you would assume every word from my mouth is just a line I use to get into a woman’s pants.
But I’ve never said a thing to you that wasn’t true, and nothing I say is just because I want to take you to bed. ”
McKenna bit her lower lip, the damn thing suddenly wobbly. Probably because that was the sweetest, most amazing thing anyone had ever said to her. He looked at her, waiting for some sort of reply, but all she could manage was a nod because her throat was suddenly tight.
Her phone buzzed once more. Mom was famous for sending countless texts without waiting for a reply in between.
Tank loosened his grip so that she could look at her phone.
Sure enough, Mom was firing off one text after another.
Don’t keep me waiting in suspense, Mickey.
Need details about the concert.
And your date with Tank.
He didn’t even pretend not to look at her screen, kissing her shoulder as she read her mom’s texts.
“She wants to know how your date went with me?” he asked, sounding slightly surprised.
“My mom is my best friend. So she knows everything I’m doing. We talk on the phone at least once a day and our texting is out of control.”
“You really tell her everything?” It was obvious Tank found that odd, though she wasn’t sure why.
McKenna rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty much all work and no play, Tank. It’s not like I’m going out and doing scandalous things with dangerous men every night.”
“Until now.” He tightened his grip again, giving her another one of those highly addictive love bites of his. She was going to have to wear a turtleneck to work today.
She giggled. “I stand by my original statement,” she joked, swatting his hand away when he started to tickle her. This morning, unlike last night, was more in line with Fantasy Tank, who was more playful and sweeter.
“Are you going to tell her about us?”
McKenna hesitated because, to be honest, she wasn’t sure.
She’d told her mom the night she lost her virginity.
Her mom had been the one to point out Dale’s emotional abuse, though it had taken lots of conversations—and a hell of a lot of pointing—before McKenna would admit she was right.
And her mom sat up with her all night after Eddie broke things off, holding her as she cried.
But this…this, she wasn’t sure how to share. Probably because her logic and her emotions were at odds, and while her mom was the best when it came to helping her sort through stuff, McKenna was afraid of what advice she might offer.
And that fear ran both ways, since she wasn’t ready to hear her mom tell her to take a chance with Tank any more than she wanted to hear her say she should walk away.
“I already told her about the fake dating,” she hedged, aware that wasn’t really what he was asking.
“Thought we were keeping that a secret.”
“We are, but I know she won’t tell a single soul. In fact, she’s the type of person who’ll milk it for all its worth with her friends. She loves a gag. No doubt, the girls at work will go gaga over me dating a hockey player and Mom will fan the flames, just because it amuses her.”
“I’d like to meet your mom.”
She laughed. “This isn’t that kind of relationship.” As soon as those words slipped out, McKenna wished she could pull them back in.
Because Tank didn’t look like he agreed.
And she really needed him to.
She started to slip out of his arms, but he held on tight.
“It’s too early,” he grumbled.
It was, but suddenly she was starting to see the truth in Tank’s comment.
He was dangerous.
“I have to get ready for work.” She wiggled until he relented and released her so she could scooch to the edge of the mattress.
She hastily covered herself with the robe hanging over the footpost of her bed, suddenly feeling self-conscious as her brain slowly started to reengage.
“I need to get my glasses,” she said. “I’m blind without them. ”
Tank let her go without comment, so she was surprised when she returned and found him still in bed. He was sitting, his back propped against the pillows, his bare chest so fucking gorgeous, it stopped her in her tracks.
It honestly wasn’t fair for a man to be that perfect.
Tank patted the mattress beside him.
It took everything she had not to accept that invitation.
“I really do need to get ready,” she said. “And you guys have workouts, right?”
“Not until later this morning. Come cuddle with me for a little while.”
McKenna couldn’t help but giggle, because the word “cuddle” coming from Sex God Tank’s mouth sounded all kinds of wrong…and right.
“Nope. Unlike you, I have to be at the office by nine.”
Tank sighed, then threw his legs over the side of the bed. “Fine. Tell you what. You get ready and I’ll make us breakfast.”
“I thought you didn’t cook.”
He ignored her statement. “Do you have bread and eggs?”
She nodded.
“Then get ready for work, Mouse, and let me work my magic. I’ll start the dryer too. I doubt my clothes dried before the power went out.”
“Oh,” she said. “I should have done that last night.”
Tank wiggled his eyebrows. “You were distracted.” He walked next to her, slapping her on the ass, the impact—unfortunately—muted by her robe. “I’ll forgive you.”
She swatted him on the arm, then watched as he unabashedly walked out of her bedroom and downstairs completely nude. Not that he had a choice, considering his only dry clothes were down there. She enjoyed the show until he was completely out of sight.
“Wow,” she breathed. “Good morning to me.”
Twenty minutes later, McKenna came downstairs to find Tank back in his jersey and boxers, buttering a pile of toast. He grinned when he saw her, taking in her work outfit.
The Stingrays organization subscribed to the casual Friday concept.
Actually, the rest of the week was pretty casual, too.
Benny had explained when he hired her that unless she had a meeting with the bigwigs, she was fine to work in jeans and tees, which was a big perk of the job as far as she was concerned, because she hated business attire.
Her mouth started watering when she saw the pile of fluffy scrambled eggs Tank had put on a plate for her. Then he slid a glass of orange juice next to it and gestured for her to sit down at the counter.
“Dig in,” he said, joining her. They ate in companionable silence, dining together now a familiar thing, given all the meals they’d consumed together on the road.
They’d just finished eating when the dryer buzzer sounded. Tank walked upstairs to grab his clothes, looking way too at home in her home.
When he came back down, he was—sadly—dressed in his jeans and shirt from last night. “I threw my jersey in the washing machine, so it’ll be clean for you to wear to tonight’s game.”
She considered telling him that she had a million other Stingrays shirts in her wardrobe, but he’d been very vocal and insistent about her wearing his jersey to the games.
She didn’t bother picking the fight, because as this morning wore on, she started to recall all those reasons why she shouldn’t like how nice it was having Tank in her personal space.
Tank took both of their dishes to the sink and rinsed them—something she knew he never did in his own kitchen—before returning to the counter.
“Okay, well,” she started, wishing she knew what the hell she was supposed to say now. Did she thank him for the casual sex and countless orgasms? Did she just say “see you around” without making a big deal of it all?
“I’ll see you tonight,” Tank said, as he leaned toward her, giving her a soft, sweet but practically platonic kiss, when compared to last night’s.
“Yep,” she said, following him through her apartment, watching as he stopped to grab his car keys and phone from the living room. He must have reclaimed his wallet when he got dressed.
He gave her another quick kiss at the door, and then he was gone.
McKenna stood still, staring at the closed door, hating that he wasn’t there anymore.
Which was completely the wrong way to feel.
She shoved all thoughts of Tank from her head, pretending it was just another Friday and mentally going over her daily agenda at work. She had a couple of meetings this morning. She usually hated meetings, but today, they would be a welcome distraction.
Grabbing her things, she locked her townhouse door and walked to her car.
It wasn’t until she was halfway to work that her hormones vanished completely and her frantic brain finally kicked back in.
That was when she realized just how bad this was.
The piper had arrived. And he wanted payment in full. Because she only had two hard-and-fast rules she’d sworn to live by since leaving Columbus.
No hockey players.
No one from work.
God, hadn’t she even said those words to Tank during their first meeting at his house? She’d sworn to him she would never date either.
Well, it looked like never had arrived.
And she was fucked.