Kickin' It (Red Card) - Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,60

like a panther ready to stake claim on its prey. “Was someone who cared.”

“No.” I cupped his face. “I just needed you.”

His eyes darted to my mouth.

I lunged for him, tasting myself on him, tasting us, and I forgot all about my past.

It was just us.

In his bedroom.

In his house.

I’d begged Matt for a future without even realizing it would never be complete without him in it.

I didn’t say I love you.

Not with my words.

But with every kiss, with every touch, I tried to tell him what was in my heart.

I pushed him onto his back and straddled him.

His eyes widened a fraction of an inch as I moved over him, taking him in, sinking down slowly as our eyes locked, breathing quickened.

So many tiny breaths.

So many small moans.

Growls.

Touches.

A million of them between us, all meaning the same thing, more and more.

He gripped me with one hand as I held his other above his head, riding him, loving him, feeling our thighs slide together in sync as sweat heated our bodies.

His teeth clenched. “Can’t hold back.”

“Never asked you to.” I lowered my head. The motion created a secret curtain between our mouths as they met gently, as we moved together.

It was just us in that moment.

Nobody else.

And then his eyes were wild as he moved with me. I took him deep as a pulsing sensation shot through us.

There.

Perfect.

Us.

“Matt?” My voice was hoarse, had I been yelling that much?

His hands were still on my ass. “Yeah?”

“I really, really like your bed.”

He slapped me on one ass cheek and let out an exhausted laugh. “Just don’t kick me out of it anytime soon, alright?”

“Just don’t bring your whistle into the bedroom, and I won’t have a reason to.”

“Valid point. I’m burning all whistles. Does that mean every time I don’t have a whistle we have sex? Because I could really get on board with that.”

I smacked his naked chest while he burst out laughing and pulled me to my side, kissing my neck from behind.

“You’re beautiful.”

Being called beautiful by Matt was the highest high, because Matt didn’t give out compliments, so when he said it, I believed it.

“I like your six-pack?” was my counter offer.

Which just got me more tickling of my side.

And then I sobered as he held me close. “Is it wrong to ask what happens next?”

“Life, Parker. Life happens next.”

“Yeah?”

He kissed my temple. “Yeah, but first sleep.”

I yawned. “And you’ll be here . . . in your bed.”

“I’m here.”

“Home,” came out of my mouth before I could stop the words.

“Home, Parker. Home.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

MATT

I couldn’t remember the last time I woke up with such a huge grin on my face. I turned on my side to see Parker still sleeping. Damn, she was beautiful. Her hair was a mess all over the pillow like she was trying to claim ownership with each strand.

And it made me that much more determined to keep her there.

She fit.

We fit.

I wasn’t sure how.

Or why.

And I didn’t know what the hell I was going to tell the press if they ever caught wind of our relationship, which just meant we needed to deal with this Erik business once and for all. He was threatening, stalking, and bordering on being a complete sociopath. And the last thing we needed was for her to feel powerless or afraid again. I was more concerned about her mental state than I was about her position on any team. In my mind I could do anything, create a miracle, get her to play anywhere; the issue was him, it had always been him. He was the root problem, and I needed to destroy him as soon as possible.

Starting with a phone call this morning to let the LA team know she wasn’t interested, especially after last night.

The Seattle Reign were almost all in. All she had to do was be her charming self, a.k.a. kick ass, have a killer tryout, and it would be a done deal.

I was giving her a rest day so she would be fresh for tryouts, but knowing Parker, she’d want to at least go for a run.

And it would be normal for her coach to go with her, right?

I quickly dressed and put on my running shoes then jogged into the kitchen to make breakfast.

“So . . .” Willow’s voice had me nearly tripping over my own feet. She was sitting at the breakfast bar with a newspaper in front of her face so I couldn’t read her expression. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Intruding?” Shit.