Strike to the Heart(5)

The lights were off, but the room wasn’t dark. Light streamed in through the windows from other nearby buildings. Zane tossed me on the bed and followed me down.

“If you don’t want this, say so now.” His voice was husky with arousal.

I didn’t have any second thoughts. “I want you. So much.” And I did want him—every sexy inch.

Zane pulled his shirt off and tossed it on the floor. He straddled my hips and leaned over me. Our mouths met in a deep, intimate kiss. I shivered as his tongue met mine. His hands cupped my breasts, and I writhed beneath him as heat shot from my nipples down between my legs.

We pressed against each other—touching, kissing, and heating each other to a fevered pitch. Piece by piece, we discarded the clothing separating us and his hot skin pressed into mine. The hard planes of his body were heavy on me, but I didn’t care. I needed it and so much more.

Zane’s fingers probed between my legs and I jerked against him. His thick finger slid right into me.

“I can feel that you’re ready for me,” he murmured in my ear.

Zane’s erection rubbed against my thigh—hot and hard. I wanted him inside me. I wanted him to fill me. My hands grasped his shoulders and slid down to his hips, pulling him to me.

Zane laughed. “I want you, too, beautiful. So, so beautiful.”

I shivered when his fingers found my clit. His touch was perfect—firm and confident, like he knew his way around a woman. I pressed up against him, my body begging for more.

He rolled a condom on his cock and rubbed himself over my wetness. I moaned with delight as he entered me. I reveled in the delicious stretching. My head rolled back. His teeth scraped my neck.

“You feel so good,” Zane whispered.

“Oh, yes,” I responded. His hands were everywhere and my body vibrated with desire. My fingertips dug into his ass cheeks, urging him closer.





Chapter 3

Zane

Jo was molten in my arms. “Let me feel you. Grip me hard.” I thrust deeply inside her and stayed there. My hand smoothed the hair off her face.

When she contracted around me, squeezing my cock, I nearly lost it. She was so tight—her skin so soft. I threaded my fingers through her hair, reached deep for control, and found it. It was the same headspace I got into when I had my opponent on the ground, looking to finish him off. But Jo wasn’t my opponent, she was something completely different. And this wasn’t a fight, it was sex. Raw, amazing sex.

I eased my cock out of her and thrust back inside, setting a rhythm that kept me on the edge. I wanted to see Jo come. I wanted to see her lose control, spasming around me. The woman under me right now wasn’t the cool, collected blonde I’d seen from across the room. I’d known there was something more, and there was. So much more.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her face. A hint of sweat glistened on her forehead. Jo had her lip between her teeth, but moans of pleasure erupted out of her. She pushed up against me, as eager as I was for more, and I gave it to her, plunging inside repeatedly. My balls tightened and I knew my explosion was coming. I pressed my thumb against her clit and she came undone, arching beneath me, and I let go.

~ * ~ * ~

Jo

The air was hot—so damn hot. Whose idea was it to hold a tournament in August in New York City? I loved New York, but in the summer, it was miserable. The concrete soaked up the heat and radiated it right back at you. The buildings blocked any hint of a cooling breeze.

I bounced from foot to foot, ready to receive. Every nerve ending tingled with anticipation. I’d played Mei three times before and beaten her each time. Today would be no different. I was prepared.

Mei tossed the ball in the air, her body elongating as her eyes followed the ball. Her racket came up and then her serve was rocketing toward me.

I reacted instinctively with my backhand. My return was barely more than a block. Where had that come from? I’d heard that Mei had been working with a new coach, but I hadn’t heard anything about this.

Mei returned easily, a hard ball that landed deep in my court, pulling me to the side. I knew what she was going to do. I’d return the ball and she’d try to pull me cross-court. I wasn’t going to allow it. I tipped my racket and barely swung. The ball arced in the air, falling a few feet over the net.

Mei scrambled in and caught the ball with the top of her racket, but I was in position and put the ball away with a solid return that landed short of the baseline.

I moved to the back of the court and soon another one of Mei’s killer serves hurtled toward me. I didn’t even get my racket on it. An ace for Mei.

Was the whole match going to be like this? I tried to tamp down my shock—put it out of my mind. I needed to focus and not distract myself. I needed to play as if I were in the final already—playing the number one seed. I had to pick up my game immediately.