Game For Anything

“You’re playing with fire,” he murmured as he tightened his arms around her and pressed her closer until their bodies were in contact from thigh to chest. He could have sworn that he felt her soften against him, one tantalizing degree at a time. The pulse at her throat fluttered frantically as he watched those incredible amber eyes darken and cloud.

Her response to him stirred him almost unbearably, and it occurred to him that he was the one playing with fire. Her mouth was barely an inch away, her lips parted and moist. His breath was already mingling with hers. One taste, just one, and perhaps he could satisfy the terrible hunger….

Later, he wasn’t sure who closed the distance between them, but suddenly her mouth was brushing against his. For one second, he was sure that the floor shifted beneath his feet, and then the flood of sensations washed every thought out of his mind. Each one was so clear. Her hands burned his skin as they moved from his neck to his hair. Her teeth nipped at his bottom lip and then her tongue tangled with his. He’d dreamed so often of what her taste would be like. But it was different—much sweeter than he’d imagined. And the underlying hint of tartness reminded him of lemonade on a hot summer day. He’d never been able to drink enough of it to quench his thirst. A quick surge of desperation had him changing the angle of the kiss and taking it deeper. There were richer, riper flavors beneath her tongue, and he had to sample them all.

He had to touch her, too. In a quick possessive move, he ran his hands from her waist to the sides of her breasts. He’d waited forever to have his hands on her. She was so much softer than he’d fantasized. His mind clicked off and, instead of analyzing, became filled with the image of that slim, strong body beneath his, meeting him thrust for thrust.

DESPERATION. Sophie felt it in the hard grip of his hands and tasted it in the hard thrust of his tongue. Pleasure streamed through her in a series of sharp little explosions. And she wanted—no, she craved—more.

As a dream lover, he’d been gentle, caring—and he’d never taken her this far. Desire burned as hot and reckless as a bonfire out of control. Her heart pounded as if it might shoot right out of her chest. And her mind—it seemed as if the sensations pouring through her were causing it to short-circuit.

Questions spun in her head in random order. Why had she waited for a whole year to seduce him? Why had she chosen to do it on a dance floor in front of other people? Why, why didn’t they go somewhere else fast?

Inching up even higher on her toes, she tightened her arms around his neck and shifted her hips against him. She felt the moan he gave in response in every pore of her body, and felt the hard press of his erection against her stomach. She was trying to get closer still when his hands gripped her wrists. He untangled her arms from around him, one then the other, and once he’d freed himself, he gently eased her away.

At first she was only aware of the coolness of the air on her skin and a sense of loss. She took a deep breath and found that her lungs were burning. And it didn’t help one bit that Tracker was still looking at her as if he wanted nothing more than to devour her. “Why did you stop?”

“Damn it, Princess. Look around you.”

The moment she did, reality flooded in. She’d completely forgotten that they were standing at the edge of the dance platform, barely an arm’s length away from gyrating couples.

Someone cleared his throat. “Mind if I cut in?”

2

IT TOOK A MINUTE for the question to register in his mind, and another minute for Tracker to gather enough of his scattered wits to recognize the man who’d spoken: John Landry, the perfect match for Sophie Wainwright.

Yes, I mind. The words formed in his mind, but he managed to keep them from reaching his lips. He also managed to keep from shoving the man off the platform. Past Landry’s shoulder, he could see couples were still dancing, and reality slipped fully into focus. One taste of Sophie and he’d nearly lost all control. He’d nearly taken her right on the dance floor. What had he been thinking?

“Sophie? Are you all right?” Landry asked.

Tracker glanced at her. She looked as shaken as he felt. More than anything, he wanted to reach out, draw her into his arms and just hold her. He might have if Landry hadn’t reached out and taken her arm.

“Sophie.” Mac nudged her way past two couples to join them. Giving Landry a quick smile, she said, “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I need to borrow my maid of honor. Just a little fashion emergency. It won’t take long.” She shot an apologetic smile at both John Landry and Tracker before she grabbed Sophie’s hand and drew her off the dance floor.

Lucas was grinning from ear to ear as he joined the two men. “Mac needs a little help with her wardrobe. Shouldn’t take long, Landry. Then Sophie will be all yours.”

Over my dead body. The thought sprang to Tracker’s mind before he could stifle it. He hoped to God that he hadn’t said it out loud.

“No problem,” John Landry said. “I’ll just help myself to a drink.”

Tracker kept his eyes on the man until he was off the dance floor.

“I sense a little hostility in the air,” Lucas said. “Mac and I are happy that Sophie is dating again, but if you’ve discovered something about Landry I should know…”

Tracker studied his friend, but there wasn’t any sign that Lucas had seen him kiss Sophie. Good, he told himself. The kiss had been a mistake—one he wasn’t going to repeat. “No. Landry’s background checks out. There’s nothing to show that he’s after Sophie’s money.”

Jealousy had a bitter, coppery taste, Tracker discovered. Landry was the perfect man for Sophie; he wasn’t. That simple fact had been a lot easier to live with before he’d kissed her. Ruthlessly, he shoved the memory aside. “Mac looks fine. What’s the emergency?”

Lucas leaned closer. “She has to change because she just popped a button on her skirt. The baby’s growing.”

Tracker studied his friend. There was no mistaking the pride in his voice or the joy in his eyes. A stab of envy pierced him. “You hit the jackpot, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” Lucas threw an arm around Tracker’s shoulders. “C’mon, let’s go into my study for a minute and we can drink to that. Plus, I have a surprise—an old friend you and I haven’t seen for a long time.”

“THERE, I might look like I’m wearing pajamas, but I feel much better.” Mac pressed her hands against her rounding stomach as she studied herself in the full-length mirror. She’d changed from her two-piece evening gown into a white silk pantsuit in a stretchy fabric.

“You look beautiful,” Sophie said. “And you have no need to worry that your husband is going to develop a wandering eye just because you’re having a baby. He’s totally besotted with you.”

“It’s mutual.” Mac smiled as tears began to fill her eyes. “And I’m not worried. He’s throwing this party and taking me back to the island where we spent our honeymoon to let me know that even though I look like a blimp, nothing has changed—he’ll be with me forever.”

Sophie felt a knot of envy tighten in her stomach.

“No one has ever done anything like that for me,” Mac continued. “And I have you to thank for it. If you hadn’t pushed me into using my research on Lucas last year…”

Taking Tracker’s handkerchief from her evening bag, Sophie handed it to Mac. “Yeah, well, my motives were not entirely altruistic.”

Sophie remembered quite clearly how she’d felt at the time, fresh from the humiliation of having her brother and Tracker McBride prove to her that her fiancé was only interested in her money. “I used you. I was more than a little annoyed at Lucas, and I thought having you practice your sexual fantasy research on him would get me out from under his constant surveillance.” Plus, it had given her great pleasure to outwit Tracker McBride.

Mac took Sophie’s hands. “You insisted that I use Lucas as a guinea pig to test my research on sexual fantasies because you didn’t want me to practice them on a stranger. Not only that, when I wanted to cut and run, you gave me the courage to stick it out. You were my role model. And I owe you for that.”

“That’s nonsense,” Sophie said. “You and Lucas were made for each other.”

Mac shook her head. “Being meant for each other isn’t enough. Take it from an expert on the subject. I wouldn’t be here today if you hadn’t nudged me into flying out to that island in your place. The last thing Lucas was looking for was a relationship. And I wasn’t even the type he preferred to date. He told me that he’d decided never to marry.” Mac waved a hand. “I wouldn’t have all this if you hadn’t badgered me until I worked up the courage to tell Lucas just why I was there.”

“Mac, I—” Embarrassed, Sophie tried to pull her hands away, but Mac held tight.

“No. I’m going to finish this. It’s my turn to nudge you. I saw you kissing Tracker on the dance floor.”

Everyone must have seen them. “I…that is, we…” She hadn’t let herself think about the kiss since Mac had led her off the dance floor. When Sophie had started the game, she certainly hadn’t expected it to go as far as it had. She’d forgotten everything—the game, her plan, everything but Tracker. “You must be thinking…”

“I’m thinking it’s about time you made a move on him.”

Sophie blinked. “Really?”

“Since he’s one of the most self-disciplined and self-contained men I’ve ever met, I think you were wise to take the initiative. I’m dying to know what you did to get him to kiss you.”

Sophie let out a dry laugh. “Would you believe I asked him to play a game of twenty questions, and the penalty for not answering a question was a kiss?”

“What a great idea,” Mac said with delight, reaching for a small notepad on the nightstand. “I don’t think I have an example of that in my research. Twenty questions,” she murmured as she scribbled on the pad.

“Yeah, well, you better add a warning that the game is best played in private.”

Mac glanced up. “He’s that good a kisser, huh?”

Sophie nodded. “I’m pretty sure some of my brain cells died. I couldn’t even feel my legs when I followed you off of the dance floor. And if Tracker hadn’t all of a sudden ended it, I would have…” A vivid image of exactly what she might have done formed in her mind. “Mac, you might have had an X-rated incident right in the middle of your anniversary party.”

Mac threw back her head and laughed, and in a moment, Sophie joined her. By the time they could both breathe again, they had settled on the edge of the bed.