He became aware of his hand absently fondling her breast, and her nipple warm and erect in his palm. Damn, he wanted her so badly, but maybe he wanted more from her than just sex. The thought made him pause.
“Joe?” Uncertainty flickered in her eyes.
He pushed his confusion away and concentrated on Nina, on her ripe mouth, on the heat surging in both of them. “Shit, I don’t have a condom,” he said.
She sighed, clearly disappointed as she unwound her legs from his hips and stood. “I guess we need to be sensible.” Then her eyes widened as he began to undo the buttons of her jeans. “What are you doing?”
“Being sensible.” He grinned, watching her intently as he slid his hand inside her jeans. For a moment her expression was blank with surprise, then, as he caressed her lower belly, her eyelids drooped to half-mast.
“Mmm…I like your sensibility. Oh—” She gasped as he cupped her mound.
He drank in the woozy look on her face. This felt better, giving instead of taking. With his free hand, he reclaimed her breast and teased her nipple, simultaneously sliding his finger into her swollen folds, stroking her until her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were groggy with intoxication. God, she was so mesmerizing. He wanted to lavish her with pleasure, to make her the center of his world, to give her everything he had. With his gaze fixed on her, he slid two fingers deep into her, increasing his rhythm, discovering what turned her on. She heaved and melted until her body tensed up, and she moaned aloud as orgasmic color bloomed across her neck and face. When her shudders subsided, he slowly withdrew his hands from her and straightened her clothes.
“Oh, Joe…” Her face wore a blissed-out glow as she ruffled her hair. “That was”—she drew in a shaky breath—“stupendous.” Smiling, she ran her fingers down his chest, bringing them to rest at the belt holding up his jeans. “I can be sensible with you, too.”
His blood leaped at the thought of Nina going down on him, but not now. Pleasuring her was its own reward. Besides, they’d been in here too long, and someone might come in.
Holding her hands, he lifted them to his mouth. “Thanks, but I’ll take a rain check on that.”
“Oh? You don’t want—”
“I want it. God, do I want it.” He took a deep breath as his lust threatened to overcome his common sense. “But later tonight.” He swallowed. “Back at my place. Right now, we both should get back to work.”
“Okay.” She curled her arms around him, raised herself on tiptoe, and crushed her mouth against his. Her tongue darted into his mouth, bold with promise, before she released him and stepped back. “I’ll see you later.”
Tonight couldn’t come soon enough.
Chapter Eleven
Joe trudged into the changing sheds, the last of his soccer team to stagger off the field, and collapsed onto a bench, feeling like he’d been run over by a garbage truck.
Mick, his sweaty teammate drooping opposite him, shot him a gloomy look. “We were hammered out there today.”
Joe couldn’t deny that. “Yeah. They outplayed us.” Wearily he began unlacing his cleats.
“What happened to all those set moves we practiced? Why weren’t you feeding me any good balls?”
Joe shook his head. “I’m sorry. My mind was somewhere else.”
“You can say that again. You couldn’t even make it to the game on time.”
It was the first time Joe had ever done that. He’d shown up five minutes after the start whistle—an unthinkable occurrence that had never happened before—and he’d played the entire game like a sleepwalker. He hadn’t initiated any set moves, hadn’t motivated his team when they began crumbling, hadn’t done his job as the linchpin and captain of his team.
“Guess those talent scouts didn’t see me at my best,” Mick said with a dismal sigh.
Joe’s head jerked up. “Shit. I forgot about them.” Mick was the best striker Joe had ever played with. He was also desperate to escape his life at the family lumber mill, and he’d hoped the scouts visiting today would pick him out and offer him some hope.
Soccer was his lifeline, and Joe had screwed up his chances. “I’m sorry, Mick. I really fucked up.”
Mick’s dejected stance multiplied Joe’s guilt. He’d screwed up the most important game of the year, and for what? He had no good excuse. The realization weighed heavily on him.
Mick grunted. “Hey, maybe next time, right?”
Next time. Next time, would he still be in the grip of his mad passion for Nina, or would it have died down just as quickly as it had flared up? He doubted his obsession with her would peter out any time soon. Not by last night’s standards. Or this morning. When he’d dragged himself out of bed after another all-nighter, she’d begun to tease him and flirt with him, and he’d welcomed it, until all thought of soccer receded before the burning need to make good on her promises and bury himself in her.
His decision to stay with her had made him late for his match. He’d shattered his concentration and his game plans. This affair with Nina was beginning to seriously impact other areas of his life. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was only supposed to be a secret, sizzling side order of sex. He wasn’t supposed to let her take root in his mind so deeply as to change his routine.
He went home to tackle the avalanche of emails about the festival, but when he sat on his couch, he instantly fell asleep. Some time later, he woke up to find he’d slept several hours. And now he was late for visiting his nonna. Seriously late.
By the time he rushed into the nursing home, Nonna Lina was huddled in her armchair, twisting her blanket with shaking hands, while two caregivers tried to calm her. When she caught sight of Joe, she cried out.
“I thought you’d had a car accident!” She sobbed and collapsed against the cushions.
“I’m so sorry, Nonna.” Joe hunkered down at her side. “I fell asleep.”
Joe’s heart was a guilty stone in his throat as he tried to reassure her that nothing was wrong. She wasn’t convinced. He never missed a Sunday without giving her plenty of notice. How could he be late today without there being something very wrong?
It took Joe more than an hour to soothe her, and all the while he was conscious of the curious—and maybe accusing—glances from the caregivers.
As he held his nonna’s bone-thin hand, her vulnerability hit him anew. He’d made a deathbed promise to his father to look after his grandmother, and that didn’t mean just footing the bills. His uncle and aunt visited Nonna whenever they could, but they had their hands full with the farm and couldn’t always get to town. And his sister loved visiting Nonna but was thousands of miles away. With her fragile grip on reality, Nonna relied on Joe and his regular visits to maintain her peace of mind. For the first time ever, he’d let her down, and she was devastated.
He couldn’t let that happen again. He couldn’t let an affair turn his life upside down. And the only way to accomplish that now was to shut it down completely.
…
Nina was taking a nap in her room when a knock on her door woke her. Rubbing her eyes, she opened her door to find Joe standing there. She smiled as her body immediately grew warm.
She leaned against the door. “Hi. Joining me for a nap?” After all the sex they’d enjoyed recently, she assumed they were both too worn-out for more, but it would be nice to cuddle together in her narrow bed.
But Joe shook his head curtly. “I need to discuss something with you.”
Her heart sank at his gruff tone and the bleak set of his face. Joe hadn’t come here to cuddle with her. He’d come here to break up with her. She knew it. Could hear it in his tone, could sense it in his uneasy stiffness, his braced expression. All the warmth fled from her body as she straightened, replaced by icy foreboding.
“Yeah, sure.” She motioned for him to come inside, then moved away to perch on the edge of the desk.
Grim faced, Joe raked his fingers through his hair, looking like he was searching for the right words. Well, he’d have to do it on his own; she wasn’t going to help him dump her… Dump me. Oh, hell. Suddenly her legs were shaky and the back of her mouth tasted bile.
“I was late visiting Nonna this afternoon.”
Nina blinked. “I’m sorry.”
His fisted knuckles whitened. “Nonna…well, she’s never recovered from her car accident, physically or mentally. We’ve found it’s best to have her follow a regular schedule. It keeps her calm and happy, but any deviation from that schedule without warning makes her anxious. And I mean extremely anxious. I was late today because I fell asleep at home.”
“Because of last night.” She rubbed her upper arms. “I didn’t realize…”
Joe shook his head. “You’re not to blame. I’m the one who’s been dropping the ball lately.”
She looked up at him. “So it’s not just your grandmother?”
Sighing, he scowled down at his shoes. “I fell asleep at a festival meeting. I was late with some financial paperwork. And I missed the kickoff of my soccer match and played the crappiest game on record. I’ve let down people I care about, people who expect more from me.”