Faceoff

Chapter Seven

That night the Heller boys and the MacIntosh siblings all went to The Pelican, the bar on the beach. They sat on the big wooden deck, listening to the live band that played every weekend, drinking beer and coolers and talking. Matt met up with a group of girls he knew from high school who were dressed in short shorts and skimpy tank tops and who were flirting outrageously with him. And he was flirting back.

Tag smiled and shook his head, lifting his beer bottle to his lips.

“This is so gorgeous,” Remi said, gazing out at the lake being tinted pink and peach and gold by the setting sun. “It’s like Lake Michigan.”

“Not nearly as big,” Tag said. “Lake Michigan is the third largest lake in North America. Lake Winnipeg is the seventh.”

“Did you read that on a Trivial Pursuit card last night?” Kyla asked with a smirk. He grinned.

“No. I happened to know that. That’s why I’m so good at Trivial Pursuit.”

“We tied at one game each,” she reminded him, leaning back in the white plastic chair she sat in.

“They’re both huge lakes,” Remi said. “You can’t see the other side, so it’s big. And the sand is much nicer here. It’s incredible, so soft and white.”

“Yeah.”

Tag watched Kyla lift one knee to prop her bare foot on the edge of the chair. She was wearing shorts almost as short as those puck bunnies hitting on Matt and a little T-shirt that hugged her breasts, the words “I’m a lawyer, not a magician” printed on the front. Cute.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he turned to see Matt standing behind him. “Hey, dude,” Matt said in a low voice, crouching beside Tag’s chair. “Can I use that tent tonight?”

Tag frowned. “No.”

“Why not? You’re not seriously going to sleep out there, are you?”

“Yeah. I am.”

“Look.” Matt glanced at the girls. “All three of those girls want to…you know.”

Whoa. “Not in my tent.”

“But if I’m in the tent, my snoring won’t bug you. You can have the bedroom all to yourself.”

That wasn’t going to work for what Tag had planned for the tent. “No way. The tent is mine.” He already had his things out there, everything he was going to need later…

“Oh man! Come on! Three girls! At the same time!”

Tag caught Kyla’s eye and knew she’d overheard when her lips twitched. She leaned over, her breasts brushing his arm. “Come on, Tag, think of your little brother.”

He scowled at her, then looked back at Matt. “No. That’s final. Find somewhere else for your…your…”

“Ménage à quatre?” Kyla suggested.

“Er…yeah.”

“Shit.” Matt stomped away.

Kyla laughed softly, still leaning near enough to him that he could smell her hair, a spicy floral scent mingled with a faint hint of coconut that remained from her sunscreen. Remembering applying that sunscreen to her sweet little body had him instantly hard as a hockey stick. He shifted in his chair. They had to get out of there and back to the cottage. Er, tent.

“I should get back and feed Caleb before we put him down for the night,” Jessica said. She looked at Scott.

“I guess that means I’m leaving too.” But he grinned good-naturedly as he rose from his chair. “Mom texted me a few minutes ago to say Emily was down.”

“Your cell phone is working?” Jase asked.

“Yeah. Sometimes. The service is kind of spotty up here.”

Tag sneaked a glance at Kyla. Did she know what he was thinking?

A few minutes later, he yawned. “Well, I think I’ll call it a night. Keep an eye on Matt.”

“He’s gone,” Logan said. “He left with those girls.”

Tag frowned. He’d better not find them in his tent when he got there. “Well, I guess he knows what he’s doing.”

Logan laughed. “Um, yeah. Pretty sure he does.”

Tag glanced at Kyla, lifting one eyebrow, tossing some bills on the table to cover the tab. “G’night.”

He strolled back toward the cottage down Main Street, then Bluebell Lane, through the growing darkness. The trees formed a lacy black canopy against the cobalt blue sky above him, where clouds were beginning to gather. The still-warm air brushed over his skin as he walked, a breeze springing up off the lake, and he breathed in deeply the fresh air scented with pine and grass and lake water. Would Kyla know to give it a few minutes and then follow him? Would she come?

Was he crazy to be doing this?

He wanted her with a deep visceral need that was almost shocking. It had started the moment he’d watched her keel over onto the grass on Friday night.

Well, no. It had started years ago. He’d just never really admitted it, to himself, to anyone. She’d somehow wriggled her way into his heart as a girl when she’d been so determined to keep up with them, despite her complete lack of athletic ability and coordination. She’d been so stubborn, so determined, so willing to do things that were clearly outside her comfort zone to fit in with them. Something had opened in his heart and let her in way back then.

It had turned sexual after that, when she’d grown up a little and he’d noticed that damn, she was hot. The one time they’d come so close to kissing, and he’d so wanted to, but he’d made himself back off. She was like a sister. Except not really. And her big brother was his best friend. Then Tag had left Winnipeg, had had lots of other girls, had focused on his career and had never looked back. Until she’d showed up here.

He crawled into the tent and turned on the battery-powered lamp he’d set on the small table. The tent was a decent size, and, unlike when he’d used it as a kid, his mom had recently purchased an inflatable bed, a double bed that, with the help of an extension cord plugged in at the cottage, had quickly filled with air and was pretty damn comfortable. A couple of sleeping bags zipped together―one was never big enough for him―and there was easily room for Kyla.

He stretched out on the bed, hands stacked behind his head, and stared up at the fabric of the tent. And waited.

Crickets chirped outside in the quiet night. The trees rustled in the breeze that had come up and cast shifting shadows on the tent. Somewhere an owl gave a low hoot.

Tag hadn’t thought much about work since he’d been at the lake, but that was the whole purpose of coming there―to get a break. It was the off season, and while he usually kept busy in the off season working out and training, doing some hockey camps for kids and organizing their golf tournament, this year had been a little different and was likely going to be different right up until training camp started in September. Maybe he should feel guilty about taking a break in the middle of the craziness, but hell, they’d survive without him for a week, and more importantly…Kyla.

If she showed up here at the tent, it was meant to be. If she didn’t…he could handle rejection. Maybe. It didn’t happen to him very often, but he was under no illusions that he was that desirable. He had women after him all the time, but it was only because of who he was, what he did, how much money he made. He’d learned that the hard way. Since high school he’d been aware of the girls who chased hockey players, the ones who hung out at the arena, who waited outside classrooms where they knew the hockey players had classes, who stalked them to the bars or coffee shops they hung out at. They liked being associated with jocks, athletes, guys who had a little fame, maybe thinking that fame would rub off on them by association. He’d been shallow enough―and horny enough―to take advantage of that. Later in life he’d encountered those same women, now looking for marriage to a rich athlete. It was easy to get caught up in that kind of adulation and for a while he had. Hence his disastrous relationship with Jovannah.

Maybe that was one reason Kyla had managed to get inside him like that. As nearly one of the family, she’d never had that simpering, star-struck attitude around him or any of his brothers, despite their success. She’d accepted his hockey talent with a distinct lack of being impressed, much like his parents, who never made a big deal of it. His parents had always told him and his brothers they’d been given a gift and they had to work hard to make the best of it, but it didn’t make them better than anyone else, and he’d always felt that from Kyla too. She teased and joked and accepted their hockey success with a matter-of-factness that…pleased him. He’d never really thought about that before, but now, with some disappointing relationships under his belt, a little cynicism, maybe a touch of bitterness, her unimpressed attitude toward him made him feel at ease. Horny as hell, but at ease.

A rustle in the grass outside had his head lifting. It had to be either Kyla…or Matt with his three chicks…or maybe a skunk or a raccoon. He’d take Matt over the skunk any day, but hopefully it was…

A shadow darkened the opening of the tent and he caught his breath, then rolled off the bed and unzipped the door. He reached out a hand, snagged a slender arm and yanked her inside.

Kyla.

“Hey!” She scowled at him in the pale golden light of the lamp.

“Quick,” he said. “Don’t let in the mosquitoes.”

She rubbed her arm. “Yeah, I know. I think I got ten bites on the way here.”

“They never bite me.”

“I remember that,” she said. “It used to piss me off. I’d pile on the DEET and still get attacked.”

“It’s because you’re so soft and sweet,” he said, moving closer. “My hide’s tough, so they leave me alone.”

“Uh-huh.” She looked back at him uncertainly. “So…”

He grinned and with his body nudged her backward to the bed. It wasn’t high, so her calves hit it and he caught her before she fell, lowering her to the mattress and then coming down beside her. “Tag…”

“Sssh. It’s okay.” He kissed her mouth softly. “No rush, Kyla. Let’s just…make out.”

He felt her smile against his lips. “You sound like we’re in high school.”

“Maybe we should’ve done this when we were in high school.”

“You didn’t want to. Remember?”

He paused. “Yeah.” He’d been trying to do the right thing back then. “But that was a long time ago.” He kissed one corner of her mouth. They stretched out on the bed, her on her back, him beside her, leaning over her but not even really touching her. Other than the hand he cupped her cheek with.

“I’m still not sure about this…”

Assertive, confident Kyla was so sweetly uncertain, and that tugged at something deep inside him yet again. He rose up and looked down at her face, rubbing her bottom lip with his thumb. “I know, sweetheart.”

Her eyes flickered at the endearment.

“We could just talk for a while,” he said. “I’m not sure about this either. But we’re not in high school. We’re adults now. We both know what we want…right?”

“Yes.” Her dark eyes gazed back at him, gleaming in the faint light.

“So what’s wrong with it?”

“You know as well as I do. Our families.”

“They don’t have to know about this.”

She sighed. “They’ll know. Somehow. But even if they don’t―what if this makes things all awkward between us? That will affect them.”

He stroked her soft lip, rubbed his fingertips over her velvety cheek. “I don’t want things to be awkward between us.”

“I don’t either.”

He regarded her solemnly. “Do we stop then?”

She held his gaze.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he growled. “But we need to be honest. I want you. Hell, Kyla, I can’t explain it except you make me so fucking hot for you.” Her eyelashes fluttered. “But I’m not into relationships. Relationships haven’t worked out so well for me in the past. And I’ve got a lot on my plate right now with this move.”

She gave a tiny nod. “I know. I’m not looking for a relationship either. I’m trying to make partner and I don’t have time for anything else in my life.”

He wanted to point out to her how unhealthy that was, that there should be other things in her life―family, friends, time for herself, for fun, for her health. But since he’d also just said he wasn’t into relationships, he pushed that thought away and said, “Then we’re on the same page. I know you feel it―we both want it. We want each other.”

“Yes.”

“Okay then…” And he kissed her again. Covered her mouth with his and took it, in a long, slow, heated kiss. Christ, her mouth was soft. And warm. And sweet. He licked along her bottom lip and then inside her mouth, slowly. Heat rushed through his body, an intense urgency that he had to fight to control. Slow…easy…they had all night.

All night. The thought made his body burn, his gut ache with longing for her.

He slid his hand into her hair, all silky, and bit softly at her lips. She let out a soft sigh of pleasure and then, finally, her hands came up to touch him too. One hand curled around his biceps, the other clutched his shoulder. Her tongue slid against his, delicate and warm, and more heat built inside him, low down inside him. He groaned.

“Jesus, Kyla,” he sighed against her mouth. “I just wanna eat you up.” An almost overpowering sexual hunger for her rose up inside him.

“I know, I know.” They kissed again, mouths clinging, tongues playing. The temperature in the tent rose by several degrees even as the wind picked up outside, blowing the trees into dancing shadows, rushing through the branches in soft whispers and moans.

He shifted his mouth from hers and dragged it across her jaw, breathing in that coconut scent that smelled like sex on the beach, remembering fingering her to an orgasm earlier that day. And then she closed her teeth on his jaw and bit him, gently, and heat spiked inside him, hot and fast. Her tongue dragged across his skin and his mind blew up then, and he moved over her, pushing her body into the air mattress with his own, on his elbows above her, holding her head with both hands, and he kissed her again, this time hard, demanding, urgent.

“Okay,” he gasped. “Forget talking.”

Her hands slid over him, down his back and then up into his hair, back down to his ass. Her hips lifted against him, just barely, a supplication, and he pushed back, pelvis to pelvis, his dick hard and throbbing against her softness.

He hoped to god she didn’t want to stop now, because it would fucking kill him. He slipped his hand down and found her breast. It filled his hand with lush softness, so perfect and soft beneath her T-shirt and bra. His head spun, blood pounded in his veins. She felt so good, and again he breathed in her scent. He gently squeezed her, rubbed his palm over the nub of her nipple. He wanted to rip her clothes off and get her naked, skin to skin, but…they had all night.

He opened his mouth on the side of her neck and gently sucked, licked and sucked again. “Mmm.” Sweetness. “You taste so good, Kyla.”

She made a little noise, maybe a word, he didn’t know, he just kept licking and kissing her, making his way down to her throat where he rested his lips over the pulse that fluttered there. Then her hands found their way beneath his golf shirt and stroked over his skin. Tingles spread from her touch in radiating waves of pleasure.

“Want to feel your skin,” she breathed. “And all your beautiful muscles.”

He huffed out an amused breath. “You have some pretty muscles too.”

He lifted his head and they shared a smile that stopped his heart briefly.

“I don’t have muscles,” she demurred, sliding her hands down to the base of his spine.

“Sure you do. They’re not big and bulky, but they’re there and they’re really, really nice.” He pushed the neckline of her T-shirt aside and traced his tongue along her collar bone.

She sighed again. “You’re a good kisser, Tag.”

“Thank you.” He smiled against her skin. “So are you.”

“Make that a great kisser.” Her body shifted, her hips lifting again, and then her hands slid even lower, beneath the waistband of his cargo shorts, right onto his ass. He damn near burst into flames.

“I’m really trying to go slow,” he gasped. “But you’re making it damn hard.”

She chucked. “I know. I can feel how hard it is.”

He chuckled too, something expanding in his chest. They were both so hot for each other and yet could still laugh. It was fun, so much fun, being with her. He kissed her again, giving in to the delicious pleasure of it. He rubbed himself against her, letting her feel his hard on even more, because hell yeah, he was hard, aching hard for her.

He wanted to feel skin too, so slipped his hand beneath her T-shirt and laid his palm on her stomach, just resting there for a moment. “So nice,” he murmured into her mouth. She licked his bottom lip, causing another surge of blood through his veins.

Then she was pushing at him, rolling him over, and taken by surprise, he let her do it. On top of him, she smiled down at him. “I don’t want to go slow.”