Page 54 of Ruff and Tumble

She cried out, equally surprised and delighted at her body’s response, only to have the sound swallowed by Cole’s low chuckle.

“Well, that was easier than I expected,” he said.

Hailey gasped, still full of so many sensations—and ofhim—that she had to force herself to breathe. “You’re telling me. How many more times can you do that?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never counted before.”

She had no way of knowing if he counted this time, but she did. The answer was four. Four orgasms, each one building on the other and taking her more by surprise than the last. After three, when she was starting to feel a little light-headed, she was pretty sure he was just showing off, but she didn’t have the energy to call him out on it. She could only cling to his neck as he took over, his hands gripping her hips and moving them in time to his own thrusts. These became much deeper as he neared his own release, instinct taking over reason and turning them both into nothing but skin and sensation.

Her heater was on way too high for this kind of athleticism, but the puppies needed the warmth. Besides, there was something intoxicating about her sweat mingling with Cole’s. He was a man who spent literal hours refining and honing his body, pushing himself beyond endurance. Yet even he was spent by the time he was, well,spent.

She slithered off his lap and laid herself out on the couch, her legs propped on his, too exhausted to feel embarrassed at her catlike stupor.

“I hope you don’t expect me to move anytime soon,” she murmured, eyes closed.

He chuckled and began stroking a hand up and down the length of her thigh with a light, negligent touch. Hailey imagined this must be what it felt like to be a puppy, to receive affection without cause or reason, and basked in it.

“You’re a very odd woman,” he said after a slight pause. They were the same words he’d said the day they’d met, and they carried the same caressing undertone. “Every time I think I have you figured out, you throw me a curveball.”

She opened one eye. “Baseball metaphors? For shame. What would your coach say?”

“Fine. You throw me a long curl.” He stopped stroking and laid his hand flat on her belly. It was warm and strong and made her wonder if five orgasms were out of the realm of possibility. “I came here expecting to have my wicked way with you, but there was nothing wicked about what we just did.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m the one who sauntered around the house without any clothes on.”

He laughed but refused to be derailed. “You always do that, Hailey—metaphorically, I mean. That’s the thing I can’t quite figure out. You don’t pretend to be anything you’re not, even when it embarrasses you. Even when it’s hard.”

“That’s becauseeverythingembarrasses me. If I hid under a rock every time I said or did something I regret, I’d never see the light of day. Or have sex, probably.”

She meant the words to be light and breezy, a conversational gloss over her very real discomfort with the world, but Cole wasn’t done.

“You have no idea how lucky you are,” he said without irony. If he noticed his use of that word—lucky—he didn’t show it. “Not everyone has things so easy.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to utter a sharp protest, to point out that when it came to easy living, he had the market cornered, but something about his expression gave her pause. He genuinely meant it. He genuinely believed that she had some kind of mystical good fortune that other people lacked.

If only he knew just how much she longed for what he had. Not fame and fortune and not millions of dollars in the bank, but a family. A safety net. A group of people with so much love for one another that it never occurred to them to question it.

“I thought my luck was what you came here for,” she said, keeping things light.

“It was,” he admitted and started to move his hand over her body again. It served as a distraction for them both. “Butthisis why I’m staying.”

Chapter 13

“I got you one step closer to professional and personal glory. It’s the least you can do.” Cole stood in front of his friend, arms crossed and a firm set to his mouth. “Just come meet her—that’s all I’m asking.”

Garrett waved off Javier, a merciless massage therapist known to them all as Javi the Hammer, and propped his head on his hand. Spending the past forty-five minutes getting his muscles pounded hadn’t put him in a conciliatory mood. “I gotmyselfone step closer to professional and personal glory,” he returned. “Did you forget the part where I scored two back-to-back touchdowns?”

“Only because I threw the ball directly into your hands.”

Garrett snorted and turned his head toward the massage therapist. “Javi, of the two of us, who do you think carried the team last Sunday?”

Javier held up his hands—those instruments of so much torture—and backed away. “I’m not getting dragged into this one. The last time you guys started a friendly debate, I ended up with three extra patients. I like keeping busy, but…”

Cole whipped the towel from Garrett’s naked and prone body. “Get up and put some clothes on,” he commanded his friend. “You’re coming with me, and I won’t take no for an answer.”

Garrett rolled over to expose every nook and cranny of his body and put his hands behind his head. “What’s in it for me?”

Cole sighed. There wasn’t much room for modesty in professional sports, but Garrett didn’t have to bequiteso comfortable flopping his junk around. There were only so many ways you could look at a man’s testicles before they started to get old. And wrinkled.