The front placket of his jeans rubbed against her as he moved through the darkened room, sending jolts of sensation through her. This was a new record for her; a couple of hours between “Hi, my name is Kendall” and ending up in her underwear in a hotel room (crazed with lust) didn’t usually happen. She wasn’t into one-night stands, but she wanted Drew. He wanted her as well, if the erection straining against the zipper on his jeans was any indicator. They had to get warm anyway. Stripping to the skin was sounding better and better, especially when she remembered there were condoms in her handbag.
“I don’t do this without protection,” she said.
“I don’t either, Kendall.” He laid her down on the bed, reached into his pocket, and pulled out his wallet. She heard the soft sound of a wrapper hitting the nightstand. “I have a condom too.” He grabbed it off the nightstand and put it into her palm. “Would you like to put it on me?”
Would she? That would be a hell, yes. She tried to maintain some dignity. It wasn’t working. “I want you so badly.”
“That’s good, because I want you too,” he said.
The room was dim, but she heard two thuds as he kicked his shoes off. Next, she heard the zipper sliding on his jeans. She might not be able to see him clearly, but she couldn’t wait to run her hands all over those bulging muscles and that gorgeous golden skin.
“Hurry,” she said.
His laugh was low and sensual.
Seconds later, they both heard a loud knock at the door.
“Shit. Must be the towels,” he muttered. “We’ll be right with you,” he said.
She resisted the impulse to blurt out a particularly descriptive four-letter word and scrambled out of the bed.
“I’ll get it,” he said. “You lie down and warm up.”
He must have had the vision of a bat; he didn’t fall over anything on his way to the door. She heard the door open and an unfamiliar voice.
“Here are the items Ms. Tracy asked us for. I also took the liberty of adding a robe as well. There is another robe hanging in the coat closet to your right.”
“Thanks so much,” Drew said.
She felt slightly embarrassed that the hotel staff knew she was in here with a man she hadn’t checked in with. Hotel staffs were probably used to this kind of thing.
“If you’d like us to dry your clothing, please dial zero and we’ll send someone up from housekeeping to get it.”
“Please add a tip to my bill for this,” Kendall called out.
“That’s not necessary,” the employee said. “If there’s anything else we can do, let us know.”
“Thank you. Good night,” Drew said.
The door closed, and she heard the sounds of Drew locking the deadbolt. His shadowy form moved through the room again as he dropped the bundle in his arms on top of what must have been the computer desk in the corner. He shoved his pants off. Seconds later, he climbed into the bed and back underneath the blankets.
“It’s so cold,” she said.
“I think I’d better kiss you again.”
Drew made quick work of ridding them both of underwear, soaking wet socks, and she watched him tug the knit cap off his head and send it sailing across the room. She reached up to take his face in her hands, and soft, slightly damp hair slid through her fingers. Long, soft, slightly damp hair.
The blond stubble on his face, the piercing cornflower-blue eyes, the brilliant smile, the amazing muscles, Go Sharks—all coalesced in a split second in Kendall’s memory. She knew where she’d seen him before.
Despite the fact the hormones coursing through her screamed in anguish, there was no way she could sleep with this man.
Chapter Two
* * *
KENDALL JERKED AWAY from Drew like she’d stuck both of her hands in an open flame. She flung herself out of the cocoon of blankets and Drew’s body, fumbling around until her fingers found the switch to the bedside light. The room was lit seconds later, and so was the face she couldn’t believe she hadn’t recognized immediately.
“You’re Drew McCoy,” she cried out.
She scooted to the edge of the bed, clutching the sheet around her torso as she went. It was a little late now for modesty. Retaining some shred of dignity might be a good thing.
She’d watched Drew’s game film with the coaching staff. She’d seen his commercials for hair products and sports drinks and soup a hundred times before. His contract with the Sharks was done as of the end of football season, and the Miners wanted him to play for them. Drew was San Francisco’s number one target in next season’s free agency. She’d planned on asking the team’s owner to write a big check to Drew and his agent next March. If all that wasn’t enough, Drew was eight years younger than she was.