Anger flashes in his eyes. “He hurt you.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“Hearts don’t forget.”
“You don’t even know what happened or who he is.”
“I know enough.”
I set that comment aside for a moment. “You’ve had your heart broken?”
He comes closer. “I tend to keep it locked away.” He touches a strand of my hair, curling it around his finger. “Women leave me eventually. Can’t say I blame them.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want marriage and kids, and I’m up front. I just want to play football until I’m done.”
“And after?”
“I like the nonprofit idea. It’s a way to give back. Plus, I have a yacht. I take it out every February after football is over. Ever been to the Amalfi Coast?”
“I’ve never left the States.” I’ve vacationed with Cece and Brogan in California, but my heart is always in New York.
“Wanna go?”
I scoff. “I’ll start packing today. How many bathing suits should I bring?”
He laughs, then stops, his lids lowering. “You’d look great in a bikini, a black one. I’d show you every island in the Mediterranean. We’ll go to Sorrento, see the cliffs, the fishing villages. We’ll go to dinner at a place with a view of the water and coastline. You’ll never want to leave.”
A wan smile crosses my face. “No family for you, huh?”
He glances away. “It’s complicated, but since I was twentysomething, I knew it wasn’t part of my goals.”
“You’re honest about what you want. Most men aren’t.”
“Are you honest?” His finger traces my neck, and my breath quickens.
I moisten my lips as my nerves jump. “Not all the time. I have secrets.”
“Little MissDark.”
Our eyes hold, and electricity zaps down my spine.
He is everything I shouldn’t want, but ...
I close the distance between us. My hands move up his chest and curl around his neck. My fingers tangle in his hair. “Here’s a secret for you.”
“Yeah?”
“I knew you came to this place. I’ve seen you here several times. You bumped into me once. You were wearing preppy shorts, a blue collaredshirt, and boat shoes. I bet you were on the way to your yacht for the summer. There was a movie star with you or some pop singer. She couldn’t stop giggling when I dropped my muffin. I found you—and her—annoying. Don’t get excited about it. I never followed you here.”
“If there was a way to go back in time, I’d dump her and take you with me.” His fingers trace down my spine, then cup my ass. I brush my hips against the tent in his joggers, and he shudders. “Finally. Baby. Been wanting you to touch me.”
Memories assail my senses: how he needed me that night at Decadence, the loss of control when we fucked, how he let it all out, his shouts, the wild look in his eyes. He was a storm of insatiable need. And I felt our communion, reveled in it.
We hadsomethingthat I’d never experienced.
As he kisses my neck, a battle is in my head as I war with what Ishoulddo.