Game for Anything Read online

TALK? What was she saying? Sophie wanted to jump him. But she couldn’t seem to make her body take orders. She couldn’t even remember the little speech she’d been rehearsing before she’d decided to storm the bathroom. The ripe, hot desire she saw in his eyes was melting her brain. She wasn’t even sure she could talk.

  Taking a deep breath, she gave it a try. “I want to make love to you.” She might have turned around to see who’d spoken if she could have taken her eyes off Tracker. The good news was that his gaze was still hot enough to burn her skin. The bad news was he wasn’t moving.

  You can do this, Sophie. You’re Mac’s role model. “Right now would be good for me. Are you game?”

  There was a beat of silence, his eyes never leaving hers. She saw his jaw tighten as he clenched his teeth. “It’s not that I don’t want you.”

  But. He hadn’t said it, but the word threatened to slam down between them like a brick wall. Panic bubbled up at the same moment that her fingers closed around the coin in her pocket. Thank heavens her fingers were working. Testing, she took a step toward him. She could move. She could do this. “The way I see it, we could have a debate about the pros and cons, but why don’t we cut right to the chase and settle it with a coin toss?”

  Taking the quarter out of her pocket, she tossed it into the air. “Heads, we make love. Tails, we…”

  TRACKER WATCHED THE COIN sail into the air. It didn’t matter which way it came down, they were going to make love. He’d lost whatever battle he’d been waging with himself the moment she’d said, “I want to make love to you.”

  He hadn’t expected it, hadn’t built up any defense against the possibility.

  How could he have possibly known that it was the one thing he’d wanted to hear her say? From the moment he’d heard those words, he’d wanted her on that bed beneath him, and he didn’t know how much longer he could wait.

  “Heads,” she said as she glanced down at the coin and then held it out for him to see. “Okay, that’s settled.”

  Fear gripped him then. In a second he was going to touch her, and he had to make sure that he maintained control. He’d pay a price for making love to her, but he had to make sure that she didn’t. He didn’t want to hurt her, and the urge to take her swiftly was so huge. “Unless you’d rather…talk? Set up some ground rules?” She fumbled a little, slipping the coin into her pocket, and he noticed for the first time that her hands were trembling.

  Nerves. He’d always thought of her as the Princess, so confident, so brave. That she was nervous because of him thrilled him and softened something inside of him. Tracker wasn’t even aware that he’d closed the remaining distance between them until he touched her shoulders and absorbed the quick shiver that moved through her.

  “Easy.” He ran his hands slowly up and down her arms the way he might gentle one of his horses. Then, lifting her hand, he pressed his lips to her palm, and watched the pulse at her throat quicken. “We’ll talk later. Right now, I want to make love to you.”

  She moved her hands to the belt of her robe.

  “No.” He covered her hand. “Let me.” He’d done this in his fantasies, but he hadn’t imagined the quick tremors that moved along her skin, nor the quick hitch of her breath as he eased the robe off her shoulders. Nor had his imagination quite captured the silky smoothness of her skin. He let out a deep breath. “You’re wearing nothing. I wondered.” He reined in the urge he had to touch and possess every inch of her.

  When his hands moved to the towel at his waist, she closed hers over them. “No. Let me.”

  This time the tremors moved through him as his towel slid to the floor and she ran her fingers along the length of his erection.

  “I want you.”

  Sophie wasn’t sure who’d said the words. The only reality that she could grasp fully was that he was finally kissing her again. Almost. His lips were nibbling at hers, tasting, as if she were something he wanted to sample slowly. His tongue traced her bottom lip, then brushed at the corner of her mouth. In some part of her mind she questioned how a kiss this soft could set her blood pounding. She wanted it to go on forever.

  Moving her hands to his shoulders, she ran her palms along the hard muscles until she could fasten her fingers at the back of his neck. Then she rose to the tips of her toes and tried to get closer. “More.”

  And then he was kissing her for real, his tongue sliding along hers. The man tasted like a dark, forbidden treat—the wild honey she’d once found in a hive. She hadn’t been able to get enough of it. The sweet, addictive flavor had almost been worth the stings she’d suffered later.

  She felt his hands move from her shoulders down to her waist. But instead of drawing her closer, they set her away.

  “Slow and easy, Princess.”

  Lifting her gaze to his, she tried to read the expression in his eyes. The blue-green had darkened to the color of an angry sea. It wasn’t slow and easy he wanted, and she didn’t, either. But the kiss had weakened her again and she couldn’t seem to… Then his fingers gripped her waist, turning her so that she could see both of them in the oval mirror next to her bed. The woman she saw reflected there was completely framed by the man. He was dark, dangerous looking. In front of him, she looked pale, almost fragile. The contrast sent a thrill skipping up her spine. Would she ever be able to look in this mirror again without seeing this image?

  “I’m going to touch you.” His voice was rough and it moved along her skin like sandpaper, igniting little fires as he flattened one large hand against her stomach, drawing her back until her bottom was nestled into his thighs. She could feel his arousal pressing hard against her. Pleasure pierced her as her own body responded, her inner muscles tightening, a dampness gathering between her legs.

  “Watch and feel.”

  She could barely hear his words, her heart was pounding so hard. And her legs…could they really be melting?

  His other hand moved to cup her breast. She moaned and her head fell back against his chest. If he weren’t holding her, one hand at her breast and the other at her stomach, she would have slipped to the floor.

  A horrible thought suddenly occurred to her. Narrowing her eyes, she studied the reflection in the mirror. “I’m not dreaming. Tell me I’m not.”

  His eyes darkened. “You’re not dreaming. Neither am I. Tell me what you want, Princess. This?”

  He moved his hand lower over her abdomen, and she began to tremble.

  “Lower?”

  “Yes.”

  When his fingers slipped over the curls at the apex of her thighs, she couldn’t prevent the moan. “I want…”

  She tried to arch up against his fingers, but he held her trapped, pressed tightly against him. Leaning down, he brushed a line of kisses along her throat. “Look at me.”

  She met his eyes in the mirror.

  “I want to see how you feel—how much you want me.” He slipped a finger into her and withdrew it.

  “Again?” he asked.

  “Please.”

  This time he used two fingers.

  The climax began so forcefully and moved through her so fiercely that she cried out as she seemed to splinter apart.

  TRACKER LOWERED HER onto the bed, then lay down next to her. The tremors were still moving through her, and his own body was throbbing with the need to take her. Now.

  Through sheer force of will, he reined in his desire. No matter how many times he’d fantasized about touching her, pleasuring her, none of it had come anywhere near the reality. He’d never imagined what seeing the pleasure he gave her would do to him.

  While she was still steeped in that pleasure, he would love her again. And he would keep it easy and gentle. Raising his hand, he skimmed it down her side, over her hip to her thigh, and began to trace a pattern.

  “No,” she murmured, opening her eyes. “Stop.”

  “Stop?” He stilled his hand. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Am I doing something wrong?”

>   “Oh, no. I didn’t mean it that way.” She wiggled away from the hand that was resting on her thigh.

  “You want me to stop?”

  “Good heavens, no. Are you crazy? No one has ever touched me that way. But you haven’t…I mean, I haven’t…” She managed to lever herself up onto her knees.

  When he covered her breast with his hand, she grabbed his wrist. “No, don’t. It’s my turn to make love to you. You just have to give me a second. I think some of my brain cells died.”

  She was sure they had. But she wasn’t paralyzed, at least. Pressing her hand against his shoulder, she pushed, rolled and wiggled until he was lying beneath her. She might not be as experienced as she would wish, but she’d read Cosmo. She knew the value of being on top.

  “Princess, let me—”

  When he gripped her shoulders, she rose up to straddle his waist. “Let me,” she teased, looking down at him. “Haven’t you ever heard that turnabout’s fair play?”

  He studied her for a minute. “What if I said I’m not finished with my turn yet?”

  “That would be good.” She leaned down, brushed her mouth against his and then withdrew. If she allowed him to deepen the kiss, she would be lost again. And she had plans first. “How could I argue with that? I just want you to take a little break. I’ll be more in the mood for round two if you let me play around a little first.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Play around? What exactly do you have in mind?”

  “You don’t trust me at all, do you?” There was wariness mixed with the blatant desire in his eyes, and it filled her with a sense of power and confidence.

  “I know when you’re up to something, Princess.”

  “Me?” Up to something? Well, if that’s what he thought, that’s what she would deliver. She’d just have to think “naughty” and improvise. Slowly, she trailed a finger from his throat down his chest to a point at the apex of her thighs. The quick hitch of his breath thrilled her. “I might be more trustworthy if I knew your real name. Are you going to tell me or suffer a penalty?”

  “What’s the penalty?”

  Avoiding an answer, she said, “I just want to touch you.” She trailed her finger slowly back up to his throat. “You got to touch me.” She moved her mouth to his ear. “It only seems fair that I get a turn. And you can even join in after a while. But not until I tell you to.” She straightened then and gripped his hands, drawing them over his head. “First, you have to hold on to the bedposts.” She was leaning over him, their eyes only inches apart. The wariness was still there, but the heat beneath it nearly singed her skin. Drawing in a deep breath, she said, “Are you game?”

  Tracker turned his hands so that he was clasping hers. “Before we start, we have to consider protection.”

  She found it unbearably sweet that he would think about it. Leaning down, she brushed her mouth against his and whispered, “I’m on the pill. Can we start now?”

  In answer, he released her hand and wrapped his fingers around the posts.

  The game was on. Sophie was almost giddy with the power of it. And she would have to play it by ear. In bed, she was sure that most of her lovers had found her “nice,” but for Tracker she had an almost overwhelming desire to be “naughty.” And she would begin in just a moment, but first she had to taste him again. Just for good luck. Leaning down, she brushed her lips against his and slipped her tongue inside. Immediately, she felt the thud of his heart beneath her.

  “You taste like toothpaste and…” Pausing, she slipped her tongue in again. “And melted coffee ice cream.” She nipped at his bottom lip and then drew it slowly into her mouth. The small sound that he made at the back of his throat seemed to vibrate right through her.

  She meant to stop then and ask him what he liked, but already her mouth was moving along the line of his jaw to his ear. He tasted salty and rabidly male. So different. So hot. As she moved her mouth down his throat to his chest, his skin seemed to grow hotter and damper by the moment. She couldn’t seem to get enough of it—the smooth outer texture and the iron-hard muscle beneath. When she could go no farther, she levered herself up and shifted so that she was straddling his hips.

  Suddenly, she could feel the hardness of his erection beneath her, and she moved instinctively, rubbing herself against it as it pulsed. For her.

  She looked at him then. His eyes were half-closed, but she could feel the searing heat of his gaze on her skin, on her breasts. His breathing was ragged, and his knuckles were white where he was gripping the bedposts. When she saw one of them slipping away, she said, “No. My turn isn’t over yet.”

  “Then touch yourself,” he ordered in a rough voice. “Touch your breasts.”

  She hesitated, just barely. She cupped them first, then ran her hands slowly down to her waist. She heard his breathing grow harsher, or was it her own? She wasn’t sure, not with so many little explosions of pleasure whipping through her.

  “Lower. Move your hands lower.”

  But they were already moving until they came to a stop at the juncture of her thighs. Sophie was suddenly aware that she was no longer in control of the game.

  “Touch yourself, Princess. Touch yourself for me.”

  Keeping her gaze fixed on his, she slipped one finger into the slick heat of her femininity. It took all of her strength to say, “It’s your turn now. I want you to make love to me, Tracker.”

  AFTERWARD, Tracker would recall that he felt something snap within him—as clear and as sharp as a rifle shot. But at the moment all he could see was Sophie, and all he could feel was the sharp pain of his need for her—uncontrollable, unreasonable. He had to have her. Now.

  Grabbing her by the waist, he rolled her beneath him and thrust into her immediately. She was so tight, so hot. He wanted to go slowly and savor, but he couldn’t. Drawing out, he drove himself in harder. Again and again.

  She began to move with him then, holding him to her with arms and legs, matching his rhythm as if they were one. As the last shred of his control slipped away, he found the strength to say, “Come with me, Sophie. Come with me now.”

  And she did, faster and faster, as he drove both of them higher and higher. He felt her close even more tightly around him as the convulsions began to move through her. His climax hit him then, moving through him, carrying him higher and higher until he felt himself shatter.

  Sanity returned slowly. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. He couldn’t even find the strength at first to move. Then guilt pierced him in one sharp stab and he raised his head to look down at her. He had to have hurt her. He couldn’t recall ever taking a woman so violently. There’d been something about the way she’d looked at him when she’d told him to make love to her. He framed her face with his hands. “Sophie, are you all right?”

  Her eyes opened then, but it wasn’t pain he saw. Her lips curved. “I’m wonderful, except for another batch of dead brain cells. How about you?”

  “I didn’t hurt you?”

  “No. You couldn’t.”

  Reassured somewhat, he levered himself off of her. To his surprise, she immediately rolled over and snuggled next to him, resting her cheek on his chest. The sweetness of the gesture moved through him, pushing away the guilt and fear that remained, and he tightened his arm around her. He had to think. He’d been right the night before. He never should have opened the door to her bedroom. One look at her and his entire plan to protect her had blown up in his face.

  Well, it wasn’t as though he’d never had to switch to plan B before. The invalid with food poisoning was out and the lover was in. It was hard to regret it, and he was good at improvising. But it was difficult to clear his mind enough to think when she was wrapped around him, clouding his thoughts, filling his senses with her scent, her warmth. The longer he lay there holding her, the harder it was going to be not to roll her on her back and take her again. And again.

  A swift surge of panic had him easing away from her. Coffee. Caffeine and a deep gulp of air that wasn’t sce
nted with her and he’d be able to think more clearly. He managed to swing his feet off the bed before a hand clamped over his wrist.

  “Stop right there. You’re not going anywhere.”

  5

  “I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE,” Tracker said.

  “You’ve got that right,” she said, keeping a tight grip on his wrist. “You’re not going to set foot out of this apartment until we talk.”

  Tracker frowned. “What makes you think I’d leave?”

  “Because that’s what you always do. You slip back into those shadows you like so much. And I’m not having it. This is not going to be a one-night stand…or one-morning stand. I don’t do them. And I meant to explain that to you before. I think there should be some ground rules.”

  Tracker struggled to clear his mind. “Okay. You’re a little ahead of me here.” And that was the problem. She frequently got a little ahead of him. “You want more than a one-night stand.”

  “I want an affair.”

  Thoughts tumbled through his mind, and he tried to separate them, evaluate them. As her lover, he could remain close to her twenty-four–seven to protect her. But if they continued as lovers, he might not be able to keep his head clear enough to keep her safe. Bottom line—

  “Congress doesn’t take this long to pass a bill.”

  He had to smile. He liked her annoyed almost as much as he liked her pliant and needy and wanting him. “I guess I could be talked into an affair.”

  “Guess? Talked into?” She released his hand then and gave him one good shove that nearly landed him on the floor. She was about to lunge at him again when he raised his hands, palms out, in surrender.

  “Time out. Truce. You were the one who wanted to talk and lay down ground rules, Princess.” He had to get out of the bed, away from her scent and her hands. If she lunged at him again, he would take her again. “Why don’t you get them all lined up for me while I pour some coffee?” And maybe he could fit in a quick and very cold shower.

  Rising, he started toward the door and then stumbled over something lying on the floor. The object slid across the floor and crashed into the wall. “Damn!”