Game for Seduction Read online

  To the rest of the world, professional athletics looked like a big party. In truth, millions were on the line with every play, every tackle. Sunday's game kicked the shit out of you and your body hurt like hell, with recovery taking the whole week. After spending Monday through Friday in ice baths and murderous massages after practice, you were lucky if you woke up Saturday morning feeling halfway normal, only to head into another grueling Sunday game.

  But even though he hurt more lately than he ever had--his shoulder was throbbing from his workout and his knee kept popping--Dominic didn't have any complaints. He wasn't sitting behind a desk. He wasn't putting on a roof in 110 degree weather. He just wasn't healing as fast as he used to.

  Dominic parked his car in Barnum's dark, cramped garage, then stepped into the dirty alley and punched in the security code next to the black metal fire door. The lock clicked open and he stepped inside, giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting.

  Several of the usual suspects were there--a handful of local hockey and baseball players, in addition to several Outlaws. And then his eyes landed on an unexpected sight: A woman with wavy hair was sit ting on a bar stool. Her back was to him and her feet were bare, her shoes haphazardly discarded on the floor beneath her seat.

  Even as he wondered what in the hell a woman was doing inside Barnum's, his cock instantly reacted to her lush ass, her tight waist, and the ample breasts hinted at from behind the curve of her elbow. A voice in his head told him this woman could be the perfect substitute for Melissa--at least for the night.

  The other players were watching her, too, mountain lions silently hunting their prey, ready to sink their teeth into her neck at the first sign of weakness. Protective urges warred with arousal within Dominic, and he accepted his inevitable decision. It was his duty to get her out of there before something bad happened.

  These were mostly good guys, but every now and again a bad seed slipped in, particularly among the rookies, who no one really had a good handle on for a couple of years. They were too fresh, too excited about their new pro status. Sometimes they did stupid things--picked up the wrong kind of girl, turned a video camera on, or posted something indecent on the Internet, especially when they were drunk.

  Dominic knew firsthand about fucking up, about how a string of stupid decisions could come to a head in a single moment and almost ruin everything.

  His face grim, he headed for the woman. She was talking with Ellis, laughing about something playing on the TV. A warning bell went off in his head, the same kind that he heard on the field just before he got crushed by a defender when coming down with the ball.

  Her laugh was husky. Sensual.

  And oddly familiar.

  Oh, shit.

  Melissa McKnight, the woman he wanted to chain to his bed and not let loose until he'd fulfilled every last one of his sexual fantasies, had infiltrated Barnum's.

  Anger rode him as he crossed the barroom. She'd been in this business long enough to know that any girl who got drunk around a pro would be easy prey. Sitting there looking as incredibly hot as she did was simply asking for it. She might as well get up on one of the pool tables, strip off all her clothes, and beg one of these guys to take her any damn way he wanted to.

  He was nearly at her side when she turned and saw him. "Dominic!" she cried, his name blurring around the edges. "I was just watching you on TV." She blinked up at him like he was her birthday and Christmas presents rolled into one.

  He followed her loose-limbed gesture to the large screen hanging above the bottles. ESPN was showing a clip of him making an over-the-shoulder touchdown reception.

  "You're so amazing," she murmured, leaning toward him. "So fast. So big."

  Her innocent compliments gave him a sudden, raging hard-on. Trying to ignore his body's instinctive response to her nearness, he wrapped his fingers around her upper arm.

  Her skin was too warm. Too soft. Too inviting.

  His fury at the way she was putting herself in danger merged with his frustration over losing the battle with his dick. "What the hell are you doing here?"

  Her tongue flicked out to the corner of her mouth. Sweet lord, he had to look away from her mouth. That way lay madness.

  "It's a secret," she whispered.

  She tilted her head back to giggle, and his eyes got stuck on the rapidly beating pulse in her long, smooth neck. Her skin was rose-tipped perfection, her hair a mix of blond and brown and auburn that made him want to run his fingers through it for hours just to determine which color it really was.

  "I'm taking you home," he said, his voice gruffer than he'd intended. "Now."

  Melissa didn't budge. "No, thanks." She picked up her glass and drank the last drop, her tongue snaking out to lick it up.

  Dominic's dick twitched as she ignored his command. He'd always assumed that she was soft, pliant. Her easy refusal of his wishes actually made his dick harder. He forced images of her tying him up and straddling him out of his head. A wiser woman would have known not to mess with him. But she'd obviously spent too many years surrounded by big, burly football players who treated her like a little sister. She thought she was safe from him.

  She wasn't.

  Chapter Four

  Waggling her fingers at Ellis, Melissa lifted her empty glass. With her other hand, she patted the busted-up leather bar stool next to hers. "Sit down, Dominic. Keep me company."

  Her long lashes covered her guileless eyes as she stared at his crotch. Shit, she wasn't actually assessing his package, was she? His cock grew another painful inch beneath his jeans. If his fans could see just how badly the "master of control" was losing control, they'd boo him off the field.

  "We can do this the easy way," he said in a low voice, "or we can do it the hard way."

  She spun slightly to face him, her full mouth curving up slightly. A mouth like hers should be illegal. He had a distinctly uncomfortable memory of her coming home from college five years ago transformed into a goddess with sinfully plump red lips and curves that could make a man crazy.

  Curves that did make him crazy.

  Lifting her gaze from his crotch, she murmured, "Tell me more about doing it the hard way."

  Focused on how badly he wanted to taste her lips, it took him several seconds to realize that she'd infused the word hard with a sexual undertone. Quickly, he reminded himself that it was because she was drunk.

  Melissa always maintained an impressive professionalism around the guys. The way she was acting had nothing to do with him. After lord knew how many drinks, she would have probably come on to any guy in any bar. Which was all the more reason why he had to get her out of there.

  In a flash, he had her up off the bar stool and hoisted over his shoulder, her sweet ass in his hands, her breasts pressing into his shoulder blades. He expected her to scream, to insist that he put her down. Instead, she shifted her hips more firmly into the curve of his palm.

  "Mmmm, you're strong," she murmured as he strode across the cement floor.

  Several of the guys whistled, and some had the nerve to clap. "You go, Dom," one called, and Dominic scowled fiercely at them, making a mental note to kick each and every one of their asses for thinking dirty thoughts about Melissa.

  Wilson smiled at him. "Thanks for taking her out of my hair. Watching over her ass was too much responsibility for me."

  In less than sixty, they were out of the bar and he'd strapped her into his passenger seat. He tried to keep contact to a minimum as he leaned across her body to click her seat belt into place, but he couldn't avoid pressing his triceps into her breasts. By the time he got behind the wheel, warning himself for the hundredth time to cool off, she was curled up in the leather seat, looking like a cat nestled in a comfortable blanket. Her eyes were warm honey as they raked over him. He'd never seen her like this, with her guard down.

  She was all woman... and on the prowl for a man.

  Deciding that his wisest bet was to play the role of concerned friend, he said, "I
'm taking you back to my place for coffee. You're going to sober up, and then you're going to tell me how the hell you ended up in Barnum's."

  Something must have happened between the photo shoot and Barnum's--probably something at work. As soon as she filled him in on the details, he would fix the problem.

  He wasn't a fool, though. Women hated men who tried to solve their problems, so he just wouldn't let her know about it.

  In a warm voice Melissa said, "I've always wanted to see your house."

  She wrapped her forearms around her shins. He'd forgotten to grab her shoes on the way out, and his erection grew yet again at the sight of her red toenails peeking out from beneath her very sexy fishnets.

  He cleared his throat, working to obliterate all signs of lust from his tone. "I'm taking you now."

  She all but purred, "Goodie. I've been waiting a long, long time for you to take me."

  Jesus, if she only knew all the ways he wanted to take her, she'd throw herself out of his car. She was innocent and pure, and had no idea about the dark side of life--or men.

  He turned into his building's parking garage a couple of minutes later. Melissa was silent; maybe she'd fallen asleep, he thought. Sick bastard that he was, he wouldn't mind having an excuse to pick her up and carry her upstairs. She could have his bed. Potent images filled his brain: of her naked between his sheets, standing beneath the spray of water in his shower, drying between her legs with a towel.

  Working to shake off the X-rated images, he looked over, surprised to see her staring right at him, her amber eyes wicked and wanting.

  It was pretty obvious that she'd had a crush on him in her teens, but she'd never looked at him like this before--like she wanted to unzip his pants and throat his cock right then and there.

  Fuck.

  "Stay there," he cautioned as he came around to her side. The last thing he needed was for her to fall out of his car and smack her head on the cement floor. He opened the passenger door and held out his hands. Once they got upstairs, he was going to make her a pot of coffee, then sit on the opposite side of his living room while she drank it.

  She wobbled a bit and he instinctively pulled her into his chest to steady her. Her breasts were criminal, the way their full weight settled against him.

  "You know what?" she whispered as she slid an arm around him, gliding her fingertips over his triceps and lats. "I think I like doing things the hard way."

  She lowered her face to his shoulder and her hair tickled his chin. It was killing him to keep his hands off her.

  Purposefully ignoring the seductive intent of her words, he said, "You'll feel much better once you've had some coffee."

  Her smile was lazy as he propelled her into the elevator. She relaxed into his body, and he was amazed, despite himself, at how well they fit together, her soft heat the perfect foil for his solid mass.

  "I already feel better," she said with a soft smile.

  If he hadn't been so attuned to her every heartbeat, to the way her nipples had peaked beneath her black dress, he might have missed it when she added, "Now that you're here," in a near whisper.

  His cock grew another inch beneath the zipper of his jeans. She wasn't making this easy for him. He unlocked his front door and led her into his foyer. Dropping his keys on the front table, he guided her into his large kitchen. Both his kitchen and living room were fronted with floor-to-ceiling glass. Lights from cars, boats, and houses across the Bay gleamed into the granite-and-cherrywood-clad room. True to his Italian roots, Dominic prided himself on being a great cook. Not that Melissa was ever going to find out. If he could barely control himself over coffee, he sure as hell wouldn't be able to keep his dick in his pants through an entire meal.

  Melissa moved out of his arms and headed straight to the windows. He put on a very strong pot of coffee, and when he turned back to her he nearly laughed out loud. She'd pressed herself up against the window, her palms flat against the glass. The laughter died in his throat as he imagined coming up behind her, yanking up her skirt, sliding down her stockings, and sinking into her wet heat. Her full breasts would be heavy in his hands, her nipples hard between his fingertips.

  His famously steady hands were shaking as he brought over a large mug of coffee. Hearing his approach, she turned and said, "What a beautiful view."

  She was far more beautiful than any view, and he couldn't take his eyes off her--couldn't stop the increasingly pornographic images of the two of them naked and sweaty from running through his head.

  "Yeah," he finally replied, "it's nice." He took her hand and guided her to the plush couch. "Drink."

  God, he sounded like a caveman. He'd never been nervous in front of cameras or out in a stadium playing in front of one hundred thousand screaming fans. So how could one curvy woman make it so hard for him to string more than two words together?

  She tucked her legs beneath her and picked up the mug. Bringing the rim up to her lips, she took a sip, staring unabashedly at him over the mug.

  "I really do like your place," she said, "but something's missing."

  You're missing.

  The words jumped uncensored into his brain. Because even with the views and the nice furniture and the gourmet kitchen, she was right: His house had never quite felt like home. Until now, with Melissa curled up on his couch, eating him up with her eyes.

  Bringing her here had been a bad plan. A very bad plan.

  Because he didn't need to save her from the other players in Barnum's. He needed to save her from himself.

  Chapter Five

  Dominic had been her very own warrior, swooping in from the darkness to carry her on his shoulder away from all those big bad athletes. That, and being held captive in his car and his condominium, was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her. He'd picked her up as if she hardly weighed a thing and she'd felt tiny and perfect.

  Plus, she thought with a small smile, she was nearly certain she'd felt his raging hard-on in the elevator. Which meant he wanted her.

  The gin and tonics were starting to wear off, and she missed the warm, blurry cocoon that had helped her flirt so easily in the bar. She put down the coffee mug and stood up, stretching slowly, making sure that Dominic could see every curve.

  "I'm not quite ready for coffee," she said as she went into the kitchen. She looked around for a wine rack, pulled out a bottle of merlot, and held it up. "Care for a glass?"

  He shot to his feet. "No. And I don't think you should have any more, either."

  She shrugged. "One it is." Opening and closing his cupboards until she found the red-wine glasses, she poured herself a generous amount. She lifted the glass to her nose and inhaled. "Mmm. This smells lovely."

  She glanced up to see how Dominic was reacting, and was disappointed to see him sitting on a bench carved from a tree trunk on the opposite side of the room. Well, that wouldn't do at all.

  He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Tell me what happened today."

  She carried her glass to the couch nearest to him. "Nothing out of the ordinary." Which was true. Now that she realized her father had never respected her, the things he'd said to her today weren't much of a surprise.

  Dominic's stare didn't waver. "A girl like you doesn't get drunk at a bar for no reason."

  "Why don't you tell me, then," she asked in a husky voice. "Why does a girl like me get drunk at a bar?"

  He stiffened and she hid a smile. She hoped he was stiff all over.

  Rather than answer her provocative question, he stood up, retrieved her coffee mug, and put it on the side table next to her. He reached for her wineglass. "I'll take that."

  He was incredibly sexy when he got all caveman on her, but she had no intention of handing over her glass. She was a big girl who knew when enough was enough. And she definitely hadn't had enough tonight, especially since both of them were still fully clothed.

  Seduce him.

  She closed her eyes. It sounded good. So good. What she wouldn't give for
one night with him, for the chance to finally live out all her fantasies.

  Seduce him.

  How could she resist? He was everything she'd ever wanted, and there was no denying his attraction to her--not when his erection was so clearly outlined by his jeans. Her skin felt sensitive as she stood up and moved directly in front of Dominic. He couldn't back up without conceding defeat, and she relished being so close to the heat of his body, to all those delicious muscles. Waves of heat pulsated between her legs and delicious shivers worked their way up her spine.

  She held the wineglass between her breasts. "Come and get it."

  A sharp pain split Dominic's temple. If it had been anyone else, he would have sworn that she was trying to seduce him. But Melissa? No way.

  Her words had to be innocent, but his mind kept turning them around until he couldn't keep things straight anymore. Lord, if she only knew exactly what he wanted to come and get.

  Her breasts were rapidly rising and falling, and the red wine nearly sloshed over the glass and onto her soft skin. Just thinking about it made him nearly blow right there in his pants. Hell, he could reach out and rip her dress off in seconds. And then she'd be naked and his for the taking.

  He was losing the battle between right and wrong. They were blurring together, tempting him to find out if her thighs were as soft as they looked. He was this close to pulling her against him, to getting his hands on her. All over her.

  He clenched his jaw and reached for the glass. But she was standing so close that his wrist rubbed up against her breasts, and her nipple beaded against him. He wrapped his fingers around hers on the stem of the glass, but he was so hard he couldn't control a damn thing anymore. Wine splashed out of the glass, rolling down into her cleavage. God, how he wanted to lick it from her skin in long strokes.

  "This is my favorite dress," she whispered. "1 need to get the stain out before it sets."

  Then she stripped off her dress and stood in his living room wearing the sexiest black-and-red lingerie he'd ever seen.

  Dominic couldn't take his eyes off her. He'd never been so attracted to a woman, never seen anyone so beautiful. His fingers itched to stroke her skin, to undo the clasp at her back, to slide her panties down her thighs and watch them fall to the rug.