Winning Moves Read online

  “Sex,” she reminded him.

  “Great sex,” he countered.

  “Just sex,” she said. “Say it.”

  “Whatever you want, KandyKat.”

  She stared at him, knowing he wasn’t going to say it. And she was glad, which made her pretty messed up where he was concerned. Or maybe insane to think she could get over him by being with him.

  “Then you won’t mind if I do this,” she replied, dropping to her knees, as she tugged at his belt.

  He held his hands out to his sides. “Feel free to use me all you like, sweetheart.”

  She tugged his pants down, freeing his shaft and wrapping her hand around the width. “I intend to.”

  * * *

  THIS WASN’T JUST sex, but Jason didn’t figure he’d convince Kat of that when she was on her knees with his cock in her hand. Besides, he was pretty sure she was trying to convince herself, not him, anyway. Though when she licked the tip of his shaft and set every damn nerve ending he owned to prickling, he was pretty open to her trying to convince him, too. She wouldn’t change his mind, but when she ran her tongue over the sexy curve of her bottom lip, as if she didn’t dare waste one little taste of him, she damn near brought him to his knees in front of her.

  She ran her tongue around the head of his cock, casting a sexy look up at him that said she knew she was in control, and she knew what he liked. Which was exactly why they were here. Because she did know him, and he knew her, in a way only two people who shared a special bond could. He’d never had this with any other woman, and he’d tried. He’d dated. And he’d remained unsatisfied in every possible way.

  She sucked him deeper, and it felt good, but somehow his mind cleared when he’d have thought the opposite would occur. He replayed his thoughts from moments before, reason invading escape and pleasure. He would never convince her this was more than sex while her hand was around his cock, while her mouth was around his cock. He had to make her stop. Ah. Yeah. Stop. She drew him deeper, took all of him, and then started to pump her hand and her mouth at the same time.

  He balled his fists by his side, resisting the urge to slide his fingers into her hair, to encourage her to keep going. Jason inhaled and then forced the air out, reaching down and pulling Kat from his body, wanting far more from her than a few minutes of bliss.

  Jason wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, twining his fingers in her silky blonde hair again. He inhaled the familiar scent of roses that was so Kat, so his woman, then lowered his lips a breath from hers.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered, her hands on his chest. “You like when I do that. I like when I do that.”

  “I’ve waited way too long to have you like this again, to waste any of it, with your clothes on.”

  “Is that right?” she asked, sounding as breathless as he felt.

  “Oh yeah,” he assured her, “that’s right.” He slanted his mouth over hers, his tongue caressing hers in a long, languid stroke that had them both moaning with the contact, with the connection, the need burning between them.

  The air shifted with that kiss, swelled with past and present, pain and passion, love and loss. Until their lips parted, the air hung heavy with so many unspoken words.

  Seconds ticked by, and then something seemed to snap between them, and they were kissing again—hot and wild—their hands exploring all over each other.

  Jason barely remembered how his pants and boots came off, but he remembered everything about undressing Kat. He shoved her shirt upward and unhooked her bra. She tossed it aside and he filled his hands with her high, full breasts, and stroked her plump pink nipples.

  He switched places with her, pressing her back to the wall, caressing a path down her arms, his gaze devouring her naked body. “I specifically remember saying ‘whatever you want,’ KandyKat.” He trailed a finger over a stiff peak, flicking it. “And I don’t think you’d argue that I’m a man of my word.”

  “I wanted to do what I was doing.”

  “Not as much as you want this.” He went down on one knee, his hands framing her slender hips, his lips brushing her stomach, pleased to discover her shoes were gone, though he couldn’t for the life of him say how. His gaze lifted to hers as he inched down her leggings and the barely there slip of black panties. At another time he’d have enjoyed admiring the scrap of fabric. Right now, he just wanted to taste her, lick her and hear her cry out his name. Those three things and he could die a happy man.

  She kicked aside her leggings with his urging and his hands went back to her hips, his lips back to her sexy tummy. “Finally,” he breathed out. “I haven’t had you like this in far, far too long.”

  She blinked down at him and then nodded. “Yes,” she agreed, her voice raspy. “Too long.”

  His lips lifted at her admission, and he slid his hands around her delicious backside. “Remember you said that,” he insisted before he bent his head, brushing his lips over her hip, trailing kisses over her midsection, widening her thighs as he did, opening her for his touch. He explored the intimate vee of her body, his fingers teasing the slick wet heat of her sex.

  She arched toward the touch, a soft sound of pleasure playing like music in the air, delicate and sensual, teasing his cock. He lifted her leg over his shoulder, lapping gently at her clit. She rewarded him with a whimper that had his cock jerking and left him craving another taste, more of her pleasure. Jason licked her, teased her, then spread the sensitive folds to press one finger and then another inside her, stretching her, caressing her. He knew just where and how to touch her to deliver her to release and he took his time, kept her on the edge, waited until she begged for more.

  Her fingers laced into his hair, her breathing shallow, urgent. “Jason…I—oh…” She tensed and then spasms wrapped his fingers, intense, hard.

  He licked her, suckled her, led her all the way to the height of pleasure, until he felt her muscles begin to relax. He softened his touch, bringing her back down, catching her around the waist when her knees buckled. He kissed her stomach before he stood up, scooping her off of her feet and into his arms, heading up a flight of stairs to the place she belonged for far longer than one night—in his bed.

  7

  MOONLIGHT SPILLED INTO the large master bedroom as Jason carried Kat to his king-sized sleigh bed. He settled her on her feet beside the nightstand and sat down on the bed, pulling her close.

  She leaned into him, urging him farther onto the bed, and he didn’t argue. He turned and rested his back against the headboard. Kat followed him, straddling him, his shaft pressing to her backside, thick and hard, and pulsing with his need to bury himself inside her and feel the wet, tight heat of her sex.

  Jason slid his hand into her hair and pulled her mouth to his. “I missed this, Kat. I missed us. I missed you.”

  “Me, too,” she whispered against his lips. “Me, too.”

  “Then stop saying this is just sex. We both know it isn’t.” He trailed his fingers down her cheek. “I love you, Kat. I always have and I always will.”

  Kat pressed her lips to his, slid her tongue into his mouth, the sweetness of her filling his senses, and he tasted her reply—her fear and yes, her love.

  Jason wrapped his arms around her, molding her closer, deepening their kiss, reassuring her he meant his words, understanding she needed to feel them, not just hear them. He told himself to go slow, not to push her, but she moaned, her tongue testing his, tangling with him, pushing him to give her more. More and slow didn’t compute, not to a man starving for her. His hands traveled her body, and she shivered with pleasure, the way she always had in the past. It drove him wild. He palmed her breast, teased her nipple, plucking it into a tight peak. She covered his hand, molding it over her, and broke their kiss. For an instant, their gazes collided, and he swore the connection sent a rush of heat straight to his cock.

  “I need—” she started. “Jason, I—”

  “Me, too,” he said. “Me, too, baby.” He lifted her, and sh
ifted his throbbing erection between them, the idea of finally being inside her consumed him.

  Kat wrapped her hand around the base of his erection, and he could feel himself thicken with the touch, with the anticipation of what was to come. She guided him to the blessed wet, slick heat of her body and he was breathing hard, shaking inside with need, trying to resist pushing inside her, rather than waiting for her to take him there. When she reached down and parted the V of her body, touching herself, he just about snapped. He’d been hard a long time, an impossibly long time.

  For the sake of his sanity, Kat noted. She pressed his throbbing shaft inside her, biting her bottom lip on a sound of pleasure when she did, her lashes fluttering as she slid down his length taking him all in.

  The torture of the wait was so worth this moment. Kat was hot and tight, and oh so wet for him, and she felt so good.

  He had no idea how, but a little piece of unwanted reality slipped inside the pleasure. Damn this reality thing that kept intruding in the middle of the best and worst of moments. They weren’t using birth control.

  “Kat—”

  “The pill,” she whispered, reading his mind as she often did, and lacing her fingers behind his neck, her nipples teasing his chest.

  The pill. For a second, he didn’t move, feeling the blunt edge of yet another bite of reality in the part of Kat’s life that he’d tried to never think about. Of course she’d had other lovers, and he had no right to even go there anyway. He’d lost her, and he’d deserved to lose her, too. Taken jobs she’d asked him not to take. Asked her to give up work she wanted to accommodate his career. He’d taken her for granted and he had to prove himself to earn her back. Worse, he had no doubt she’d seen him as unchanged, a selfish ass, when he’d left her in Denver, expecting she’d wait on him. It really had killed him to leave her and meet his obligation to Stepping Up.

  Jason slid his hands up her back, bringing her mouth to his, planning to confess just how wrong he’d been, how much he regretted the past. “Kat—”

  She brushed her lips over his. “Don’t do this now. Please. I just want to be with you. I want to pretend nothing else exists for just right now.” She didn’t give him time to object. She kissed him, took his mouth and drugged him into a spell of her taste, her tongue and her body slowly rocking against his.

  Raw hunger rose inside him, the past fading into the present. He moaned into her mouth, pressing her down against him, and lifting his hips to thrust. Her sex tightened on him, clamped down and took him hard and deep. Her fingers were in his hair, soft little touches that sent shivers down his spine. And her kisses, those delicate, sweet lips that could be so wild and wicked, and everything he wanted them to be. He was hungry for her, and she was hungry for him. It was in the air, in their every touch, taste and moan. If they could melt into each other, become one, they would have.

  Kat leaned back, her hands behind her on his thighs. Jason’s hand settled on her flat stomach, pumping into her even as she rode him in an erotic dance, her beautiful breasts swaying with the rhythm, her tight little nipples begging for his mouth. He wrapped his arm around her slender waist, his hand palming her breast, kneading it before he suckled one nipple, alternately licking and flicking it with his tongue, and then sucking it deep into his mouth.

  She spiked her fingers through his hair, her moans turning to sexy little purrs of pleasure that were driving him wild. Jason pushed her hard against his hips, thrusting into her. “Yes,” she moaned, burying her face in his neck. “So…good. I…Jaso…n.”

  His name on her lips, asking for pleasure and for release, drove him over the edge. Jason couldn’t get close enough to Kat, couldn’t pump hard enough or go deep enough inside her. Harder, faster. The room disappeared, the past faded. There was only this moment, there was only Kat, being with her, holding her, loving her and pleasing her.

  He could feel the tension stiffening her body, and the tightening of her arms around him. The sweet sound of her gasp came an instant before her sex reacted, rippling with release, with her pleasure that became his.

  Sensations spiraled through Jason. He pressed Kat down and lifted into her, shaking with the intensity of his completion. Burying his face in her hair, the scent of it—so soft and feminine, so her—relaxing him.

  For long seconds, they clung to one another, skin damp, breathing heavy, and he felt her tense, sensed an emotional struggle in her and braced for it. Would it be regret? Anger? Something completely different?

  “I love you, too,” she whispered next to his ear.

  So softly spoken were those words that Jason didn’t dare believe he’d heard them, until she leaned back and met his stare, repeating the golden words. “I love you, too. I do. You know I do.”

  Tenderness and hope filled him. “We’ll make it work out this time.”

  “You really think that’s possible? That this time is really different?”

  “I don’t think. I know.” But she didn’t. He could see the doubt in her eyes. He had to give her time, had to convince her that the only place he’d ever felt at home was when he was with her. He just hoped he wasn’t too late, that she could still find home with him.

  * * *

  IT WAS NINE O’CLOCK, hours after Kat had arrived at Jason’s house and she rested on his bed, on her stomach, and wearing his T-shirt. She watched him disappear into the hall, on his way to meet the pizza delivery man at the door, sighing with the pure satisfaction of being with him again. She blocked out any argument that it might be a mistake. She didn’t care. It was too late. She’d done exactly what she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do. Kat had fallen for Jason all over again. It was too late to run, too late to hide, because she simply didn’t want to.

  Kat turned her attention back to the huge flat-screen TV. She and Jason had been watching the first season of Stepping Up. The screen flashed from the dancers to the judges’ table.

  Kat sucked in a breath and sat up, her spine stiff, watching Jason interact with the other judges. It was the first time she’d seen him on television, aside from a commercial for the show, and she was hit hard with a good dose of reality. He looked good, natural and right on the screen, in the spotlight instead of behind the camera. He belonged on that screen, in the public eye, on that show. He was never going to stay here in Vegas. He would be pulled to bigger and better things, and he deserved those things.

  That realization washed away her good mood, and stole the joy of minutes before when she’d been happily watching the program with Jason, pretending fairy tales did come true. She wanted those minutes back, and the hours before them. She liked here and now.

  “I grabbed your bag,” Jason said, sauntering into the room with it and a pizza box in hand, his hair rumpled, his broad chest deliciously bare, his jeans slung low on his waist. He set the bag at the foot of the bed. “I think your phone is inside. I heard it ringing.”

  “Why would you leave Stepping Up?” she asked, the question exploding from her lips, her urgency for the answer far more important than her growling stomach. “It’s the number-one show on television. That’s a dream come true. It’s security. It’s opportunity. It’s stability going into a fourth season is hard to find in this business. You can’t walk away. Even for a Vegas production.”

  He looked surprised by her sudden outburst. Her phone started to ring again, but she ignored it. She didn’t want to pretend everything was roses without thorns, and she almost had. That wasn’t good for him or her. She wanted everything out now, before those thorns tore them apart again.

  Jason let out a breath and scrubbed his hand over the light stubble on his jaw before setting the pizza on the bed and out of the way.

  “Kat.” He settled onto the mattress in front of her. “It’s a job and it’s money. I don’t need either of those things.”

  “It’s a huge show, Jason,” she said. “They’re going to offer you big money to stay. You can’t walk away from that.”

  “Why?”

  “I tol
d you why. Because you’ll regret it later. What if nothing like this ever comes around again?”

  “That’s what we both said every single time one of us had an opportunity. We’re both older and wiser now. We have money and we have work if we want it. We don’t have to walk around in fear that there will never be another ‘big’ opportunity.”

  “Tell me you aren’t doing this for me.”

  “For us.”

  She shook her head, her chest tightened. “No. No. I won’t let you do this. You’ll resent me, and you’ll resent us, later.” Her phone started to ring again and she ground her teeth, silently cursing the interruption. “Good grief, who keeps calling?” She reached into the side pocket of the bag, meaning to turn off her ringer, but hesitating when she noted her mother’s number. Her mother was a former E.R. nurse who, after five years of retirement, still went to bed at eight and got up at five in the morning.

  Kat answered the phone. “Mom? Is something wrong?” No reply. She had been too slow to answer. She punched the recall button and it went to voice mail, her gaze finding Jason’s. He arched a brow and she shook her head. “She’s not answering.”

  Kat stood up and grabbed her bag. “I have to go over there.” She took off for the hall, dialing her mom’s number again. Voice mail again. Her heart was in her throat. She could feel it in her bones that something was wrong in a very bad way.

  She dropped her bag at the bottom of the stairs and searched for her pants, racing around the room, to no avail. She dialed the phone again and heard Jason charging down the stairs.

  “Did you reach her?” he asked, and the urgency in his voice did her heart good. He was worried with her, he cared. She wasn’t alone.

  “No,” Kat said, turning to him as she reached the bottom step. “I don’t know what to do and I can’t find my damn pants.”

  He handed her pants to her. Gratefully, she accepted them and started to pull them on. “Thank you.”

  Jason tugged a shirt on over his head. “Have you tried your father?” he asked, grabbing his boots to put them on.