Hearts at Play(35)

The twisting in his gut told him it wasn’t just Layla he was worried about. How would he and Brianna find any time to be together? Racing took his entire focus. For three days of each race week he’d eat, breathe, and sleep racing. There would be press conferences before or after every race, sponsor shoots, dinners, award ceremonies. There was no way his girlfriend could work fifty hours each week and still attend events with him. Hell, if she were his—really his—she wouldn’t have to work a day in her life. She could get back into photography, have more time with Layla and with him. Hugh knew himself too well. He was an obsessive, competitive bastard, and the feelings he had toward Brianna weren’t that different from the ones he had toward racing. Since they’d met, he’d eaten, breathed, and slept with thoughts of her every second. He needed more time with her. Fuck.

He walked to the glass doors in the living room and pulled them open, inhaling a deep, cleansing breath of the crisp morning air. It did nothing for him. He took another one, thinking about how women had always been like a new set of tires. He’d ride ’em hard and toss them away, never to think about them again. Brianna stuck in his mind like tar. Hot and present, impossible to shake off. And he loved her, damn it. He wanted more time with her, not less.

He wasn’t leaving town for another four days, and even then he’d be gone for only a night or two and it was already destroying him. He worried about Brianna working too many hours and he worried about Layla not spending enough time with her mother. He worried about the bearded man he’d had a talk with, even though he seemed to have listened. Jesus, he worried about how he’d sleep the night before the race with all this shit running through his head. As it was, he was up half the night wishing she were beside him. How the hell did that happen so fast?

When his doorbell rang, he hadn’t even prepared breakfast, as he’d planned. He closed the glass doors and crossed the floor in his jeans and bare feet, then took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He reached for the doorknob, and only then did he realize his hands were fisted, the muscles in his arms and neck strung so tight he could play a tune off of them. Shit. The doorbell sounded again.

Brianna stood before him wearing a short coat that belted around the waist and stopped midthigh. Her legs were bare and shivering. Hugh’s eyes were on a downward scale, and the shivering should have stopped him, but the stiletto heels that she stood upon had him getting hard despite his earlier frustration. Holy hell, was she a dream come true. He had no idea what she had on under that little coat of hers, but there was no way in hell she was wearing that to work. Not today. Not ever, if he had anything to say about it. He forced his eyes back up her crazy, sexy outfit and lingered just above the belt, where his eyes caught on a swatch of skin. He followed the path of silky skin up between her breasts, clear to her succulent lips. Even through his hard-on fog it registered that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and more likely wasn’t wearing anything beneath that coat. Jesus. He pulled her inside and closed the door.

He backed her up against the wall. Adrenaline had already taken over his body before he opened the door. Now it mixed with testosterone, and he feared he might burst. God only knew how he’d made it through the night without relieving his sexual tension, but he’d made it through. He’d planned a lovely breakfast and a loving intimate interlude—until he’d received the revised race schedule when he’d checked his email, and he’d gotten lost in trying to reconfigure his life. Now Brianna’s scent assaulted him, and just knowing what she probably wasn’t wearing beneath that coat drove his mouth to hers.

“Well, hello to yo—”

He cut her short. All of the wanting of the last twenty-four hours and the emotions that made his chest ache and his groin yearn for Brianna exploded in a frenzy of erotic thoughts and carnal needs. He tangled his hands in her hair and tugged her head back, just enough to angle her mouth up so he could kiss her deeper, plundering every breath from her lungs. She made that sound that took him over the edge, a desperate, hungry moan that began somewhere deep inside her and vibrated through her chest. Hugh tugged at the belt on her jacket as she groped his body, fumbling with the button on his jeans and whimpering when she couldn’t set him free. God, how he loved that sexy whimper.

With a grunt and a groan, he ripped the button off his jeans with one hand and managed to untie the belt of her coat with the other. Her lapels fell away, exposing a perfect path of skin down the center of her beautiful naked body. For a breath he was stunned. Frozen. He couldn’t think. The provocative look in her eye coalesced with the lust coursing through his body, and in that second he knew he’d never be able to be apart from her. She narrowed her eyes, and her lips parted for him as she reached between his legs and cupped his balls through his jeans.

“Jesus, Bree.” He wasn’t sure he actually said the words. Did they make it from his brain to his lips? All he knew was that in the next second his hands were on her ass, squeezing, taking hold and pulling her against him. The feel of her cold skin against the heat that boiled within him made him want more of her. His mouth found her breast, teasing her nipple, then grazing it with his teeth. She buried her hands in his hair and held on with a death grip. One hand found her deliciously wet center—and he couldn’t stand to tease her. He had to be inside her. He plunged his fingers in, and she lifted up on her toes with a gasp, lifting her four-inch heels right off the ground and sending his desires into overdrive.

Brianna reached for his pants, tugging one side of his fly. His jeans fell open, revealing the tip of his erection trapped beneath the waistband of his briefs. She looked down and licked her lips. The innuendo stopped him cold. She ran her fingers down his stomach in a way he’d come to crave, gentle and seductive. She hooked her thumbs in his briefs and tugged them down. They caught on his massive thighs, and she bit her lower lip again, looking up at him through her thick lashes as she bent down to greet his thick length with her mouth. Hugh groaned as she licked every inch, then took him in deep. Holy shit. Had she practiced overnight? He wanted to crawl out of his skin.

She stood, guiding his back to the wall where she’d just been and playfully held him there.

“Bree.”

“Shh. My turn.”

She brought her mouth to his and pinned him against the wall with her hands, rocking against him. He grabbed her hips, and she pushed his hands away, drawing back from his mouth and snagging his lower lip in her teeth before releasing it and slicking her tongue over the sore spot.

“Who are you?” He swallowed to settle the eagerness in his voice.

“I thought about you all night, and I know how much you respect me. The only way I’m going to get through to you—really make you understand how not careful you have to be—is to show you that you can treat me like a woman.” She licked her lips again. “Seven years is a really long time.” She shimmied down his body and looked up at him again before whispering, “Don’t come.”

He closed his eyes and groaned as her hands and tongue worked their magic. He gripped her shoulders, forcing himself not to help her rhythm. God knew if he did that, he’d never last. Her mouth was so hot and—Oh Jesus—his eyes sprang open. What the? A sensation he’d never felt before sent a thrill right through him. She glanced up. She was using the underside of her tongue to tease him.

She flashed a mischievous grin and arched a brow. “Cosmo and Redbook. They have great online tips.”

“Holy fuck.” He clenched his eyes shut as she turned her attention to his balls. “Bree,” he said in one long breath. “Brianna.” She quickened her pace, using both her hand and mouth. He grabbed her head and pulled himself free.

“Don’t. Come.”

“You’re killing me.” He threw his head back against the wall.

She pried his hands from her head and began working him with a fast rhythm, five fast strokes, four, three, two; then she worked her way up with slower, longer strokes, rousing any remaining sanity that he might have had left.

“Bree. Bree.”

“Don’t,” she commanded. She didn’t miss a beat. She brought him right up to the edge, then backed off, giving him just enough relief to regain control before taking him up to the edge again.

Every nerve burned. In one swift and sudden move, he lifted her off the ground and into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. She grabbed his face with her hands and took him in another intoxicating kiss. Control was not something Hugh was used to giving up. He could barely think, but he held on to one string of thought.

“Condom.”

“On the pill.” She kissed him again.

“Bree?” He pulled back and looked into her loving, trusting eyes. “I’m gonna make a bride out of you one day, and not an accidentally pregnant one. The next time you get pregnant, it’ll be your decision.” He kissed her as he carried her—still straddling him—into the bedroom, where he grabbed a condom from the bedside drawer. Together they rolled it on. No way was he putting her down for one measly second. Having her in his arms, holding on to him like he was her everything, shot a burst of love right through him.