The Perfect Play
Page 3

Where had her common sense gone?
MICK HAD BEEN WITH PLENTY OF WOMEN IN HIS LIFETIME. From college to the pros, women had gravitated to him like he was an irresistible magnet. And he’d never been one to turn down a beautiful woman who wanted to crawl into bed with him.
So he’d never had to pursue a woman. Until tonight, until he’d seen Tara leaning against the wall of the ballroom, not participating, just watching, the sparkles on her champagne-colored dress lifting the light from the chandeliers and all the candles shining around her as if she were the main event in the ballroom.
She’d captivated him from the first moment he’d seen her in the locker room area today. He’d hated missing the opportunity to meet her then, and finding her at the ballroom tonight had seemed like it was meant to be.
She’d been polite but hadn’t fallen all over him when he’d introduced himself. And oh man, had he liked that. A lot. Surprisingly, a lot. Especially when she’d walked away from him. Women tended to latch onto him like he was the Holy Grail, and once they did, they never let go. That, he didn’t like. But Tara actually seemed more interested in doing her job than in being with him. It was damned refreshing.
So he’d stood back and watched. She was good at her work. Efficient. He’d noticed she had a couple assistants working with her, and she treated them like equals. No browbeating, no talking down to them like they were ants under her feet. But when she gave instructions, people moved and moved fast. And she seemed more than willing to get in there to do whatever needed to be handled to get the job done. She’d opened bottles of wine with efficiency, folded table napkins, directed a new waitress on what tables were hers, and calmed down a very agitated bartender with quiet words and more patience than Mick could have ever come up with.
He liked to watch her move in her high heels, her swishing skirt giving him glimpses of what must be spectacular thighs. She was slender, but not too much. She looked like she actually ate three meals a day, unlike a lot of the women he’d been forced to spend time with. She curved in all the right places, and he was fascinated by her neck, which was nicely visible, since her blonde hair was pulled up in a fancy hairstyle that didn’t suit her at all. He’d bet she usually wore her hair down or in a ponytail or in one of those messy hair clip things. She didn’t seem the type of woman who messed with her hair so that it had to be perfect. She had full lips and a narrow face and the prettiest brown eyes he’d ever seen.
But what he’d liked best about tonight was talking to her. She was a real person, not interested in furthering her career by being seen on his arm, but an actual, honest-to-God real woman. Funny and warm, with her own career. She hadn’t once searched out the media so they could take pictures of Mick and her. In fact, she’d done her best to avoid having the media see the two of them together.
It felt good to just be in this room with her. He wasn’t in any hurry, had no place to be for the rest of the weekend. It had been a long time since he’d really wanted to be with a woman—hell, had he ever really wanted to be in the company of a particular woman? He couldn’t think of any. As a release, yeah. To kill time, definitely. Someone thrust on his arm by Elizabeth for PR—all the damn time. But no woman had captured him enough for him to really want to be with her. They’d all been in and out of his life like some damn revolving door. Faces and names all blurred together, and he couldn’t remember a single one of them other than he’d met them and f**ked some of them. He’d forgotten them as easily as they’d forgotten him.
Now Tara, he’d definitely remember.
There was something about her that made him want to do more than just f**k her.
Except right now he really wanted to kiss her and touch her and get her na**d so he could explore the rest of her skin and see if it was as soft as the parts he’d already touched.
Easy, man. Not too fast. He didn’t want to scare her away. She wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever met. And for the first time in his life, he didn’t want to run the clock down too fast. He wanted this night to go into overtime.
MICK HADN’T SAID MUCH FOR THE PAST FEW MINUTES, just seemed content to stare out the window with her. Tara waited for discomfort to set in, but it hadn’t. There was something special about him, something she’d noticed from the start, and it had nothing to do with his career and everything to do with who he was as a man. She liked Mick, liked him more than she had any other man in a very long time. Since she had the entire weekend to herself, why not indulge?
“Would you like some champagne?” He motioned to the bucket sitting on ice. “They delivered it earlier. I think we all got one as a thanks from the owners.”
“I’d love a glass.”
He popped the top and poured some into a glass, handed it to her. She took a sip, the bubbles tickling her nose. “It’s very good. Aren’t you going to have any?”
“I’m more of a beer kind of guy.”
She laughed. “Me, too.”
“Yeah? You’re dressed like a champagne kind of woman. Your sparkly dress even matches.”
She looked down at her cocktail dress. Admittedly, she loved it. Tiny straps hung on her shoulders, the bodice dipped across the swell of her breasts, hugging them tight. It fit her well and was her favorite. “Only when I work events like this. Believe me, there’s no champagne stocked in my refrigerator at home. Only beer and soda.”
“Chips and hot dogs?”
She laughed. “Two of my favorites. I’m sorry to say the elegance only comes out as part of my job. You’ll typically find me barefoot, wearing jeans, with my hair up in a ponytail.”
He examined her near-perfect updo. “So that doo-dah hairstyle isn’t the norm for you?”
“Hardly. It’ll be hell getting all these pins out.”
“Want me to help?”
Heat swirled around her. “And shatter my Cinderella image? I don’t think so.”
“Okay, Cinderella. Your secret is safe with me.”
She sipped her champagne and tried not to openly stare at him, but it was damned difficult, considering it was just the two of them in this room with the lovely view of the city. She stared out the window, still wondering what the hell she was doing here with Mick Riley.
He came up behind her. “You’re a beautiful woman, Tara.”
She turned to face him, wishing he knew the real her. But he never would, because the real Tara was light-years away from his world. “I usually don’t follow strange men up to their hotel rooms.”
He smiled down at her. “You don’t? Damn, and I thought I’d found a sure thing in you.”
Everything he said either made her laugh or made her hot. Why hadn’t some woman grabbed him by the hair and dragged him back to her cave by now? There had to be some chink in this knight’s armor. “Sorry. You should have gone for one of the actresses or models.”
“Not interested in them. They have agendas.”
“What makes you think I don’t?”
“Because I came to you. You didn’t come to me.”
“Maybe that’s part of my evil plan.”
“Honey, I don’t think there’s a damn thing evil about you.”
“I’m hardly innocent, Mick.”
He took her glass and set it on the table, then grasped the lapels of the jacket and pulled her closer. “Is that right?”
Liquid heat rushed through her veins, opening her up to desires and emotions she hadn’t felt in far too long. She normally closed herself off to men. Too busy. Too many other priorities. Right now there was no other priority but the feel of him against her. She leaned into him and tilted her head back, giving him the green light. “That’s right.”
He shifted his fingers, and the fire he’d stoked began to burn even brighter. There was a sizzle of magic between them. She’d be a fool to walk away from that, even if it was only for one night. And that’s all it could ever be—just one night—so why not go for it when she had the chance? Who knew when something this good would come along again? With the way her life was structured, probably never. And she’d have this one hot night to look back on and remember forever.
“I didn’t bring you here to seduce you, Tara. I just wanted to spend more time with you.”
She covered his hands with hers. “Maybe I’m seducing you. You wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings by rejecting me, would you?”
His lips quirked. “I’d never do that.”
“Then kiss me.”
She saw the spark ignite in his eyes as he gathered her against him and pressed his lips to hers.
Ahh, contact. An explosion of heat and liquid fire melted her from the inside out. Oh wow, it was everything she imagined—and so much more. Tenderness as his lips brushed hers, and then the power of his mouth as he deepened the kiss. His tongue slid between her teeth to capture and slide and lick as his hands pressed in along the curves of her body.
Tara suddenly couldn’t breathe. It was like being kissed for the very first time, when her head and her emotions tangled with everything her body felt. Only she wasn’t a kid and neither was Mick. This was a man’s hands on her body, and a woman’s desires coursing through her. And what they were doing wasn’t going to stop with a kiss. She already knew this, already knew where she wanted this night to go.
Cinderella wasn’t going to make it home before she turned back into the dour scullery maid with bare feet and blue jeans.
And she didn’t care.
TWO
MICK HADN’T BEEN LYING ABOUT HIS REASONS FOR bringing Tara up to his room; he’d really wanted to spend some more time talking to her. But she obviously wanted more than that—or needed more than that—and he was damn happy to oblige. She tasted like champagne and mint, and sliding his tongue inside the heat of her mouth had tightened his balls into a painful knot.
She was as ramped up as he was, her mouth moving under his, her body one ball of energy as she reached up to undo the buttons of his shirt. His heart pounded against his chest. He wondered if she could feel it, if she’d laugh that he was so caught up in this. It wasn’t like this was a first for him. Women threw themselves at him. He should be kind of jaded about the whole thing. But she was so different from the other women he’d been with. Fresh and exciting and ... normal.
She lifted her lips from his. “Your heart is racing.” She laid her palm flat against his chest. “I thought it was just me who was supposed to be excited about this.”
He arched a brow. “You think I’m not affected by you kissing me?”
She shrugged. “Women probably kiss you every day.”
He laughed, then pulled her onto the sofa with him. “Not every day. And you aren’t just any woman.”
She slid her legs over his lap. “Oh, right. I’m special.”
“You are.”
“Really. In what way?”
“You’re not famous.”
She tilted her head back and laughed, then hitched her dress up, revealing her thighs as she straddled him. Just as he imagined, she had killer thighs.
“Gee, you sure know how to compliment a woman.”
She wound her arms around his neck and leaned in, her br**sts brushing his chest.
He’d really wanted to spend more time talking to her, to show her that he wasn’t primarily interested in getting in her panties.
But with her body full-on against his, he inhaled the scent of her shampoo—something sweet that made him want to lick her skin, and he figured, screw it. He really did want to get in her panties. He swept his hand down her back, mapping his way through a mix of skin and the sparkly dress. He tucked his hand inside, definitely preferring the skin part.
Tara moaned and got closer, as if she wanted to crawl inside him.
Oh, yeah. This was the warm-up. He was ready to get in the game now. He reached up and started pulling pins from her hair. She tilted her head back and lifted her lips.
“Determined to destroy my Cinderella image, aren’t you?”
He dragged a pin from a golden strand and let it fall to the floor, then dove into the softness of her hair for another. “You get any more beautiful and I might drop dead.”
She arched her brows. “You’re very good at that.”
“My sister liked having her hair put up.”
“No, not that. The lines.”
He shook his head. “No line. Promise. You’re gorgeous.”
She looked like she didn’t believe him. Obviously no one had told her lately how stunning she really was. A damn shame, since the na**d honesty in her eyes could make a man do anything she wanted. He pulled the last pin out of her hair and shook it loose, letting it tumble across her neck and cheeks.
“Amazing. Soft.” He inhaled. “Peaches.”
She giggled, and the sound vibrated against his chest.
“I don’t know any women who smell like peaches.”
“The shampoo was on sale at Walmart.”
Yeah, he could seriously like this woman.
TARA DRAGGED IN BREATHS AND LET THEM OUT IN rapid succession. Hyperventilating and passing out would be the most embarrassing thing she could do right now, but Mick’s face was buried in her neck, and it was a serious erogenous zone. If he licked her there, she’d rob a bank for him.
When she felt his tongue glide across her throat, she quivered all over. Mick tightened his hold on her, and then the bastard did it again. Goose bumps popped out along her flesh, desire roaring to an inferno inside her. Her ni**les beaded, aching for his mouth to do to them what it was doing to her neck right now. She could already imagine him sweeping his tongue across her ni**les while she watched. She’d lift her dress and slide her hand inside her panties and rub her throbbing cl*tuntil the orgasm she so desperately needed made her scream.