The Player and the Pixie (Rugby #2) Read online

  But most importantly, deep down, I didn’t think he liked himself very much.

  It made me sad. It also made me want to make him happy.

  I turned off the water and stepped out to find someone had shoved a small note under my door. My heart sped up, wondering if it was from Sean. But sure enough, this had become Broderick’s and my way of communicating the last week or two, and the note was from him.

  I can’t find Sean anywhere, so I guess that means no steak.

  Meet me in the dining hall for dinner?

  I hope you enjoyed your hike ;-)

  Rick.

  I wrapped a towel around my body and scribbled a quick response on the other side of the note. It was the last night of the retreat, but I wasn’t in any frame of mind to be good company.

  Not feeling well.

  Breakfast instead?

  Lucy.

  As I went to quickly shove the note under Rick’s door, I stepped outside and came face to face with Sean. His fist was raised mid-air, as though he’d been about to knock. I looked him over, noticing he still hadn’t changed out of his wet clothes.

  “Um,” I said, biting on my lower lip as his hot gaze swept across my toweled form.

  He didn’t reply, but simply stepped forward, entering my cabin as I instinctively stepped back, dropping the note. Slamming the door shut behind him with a foot, he kept coming at me until the backs of my knees hit the sofa. I think I may have let out a tiny squeak but really couldn’t be sure.

  “Let’s try this again. I want you,” he said as his hands clasped my neck and he pulled my mouth to his.

  His kiss was hard and unrelenting, and I felt my legs grow weak. As though sensing this too, he slid a hand around my waist, holding me tight against him. Before I could stop him, he broke our kiss and released my towel. It fell away, exposing my entire body, and I trembled under his astute attention.

  Sean’s molten-hot stare devoured me, tracing the dips and curves of my form before swearing and bending to suck one of my nipples into his mouth. I yelped in surprise because his teeth smashed against my skin.

  Perhaps he was just eager.

  This definitely seemed to be the case when he swiftly lowered me onto the sofa. My head knocked against the armrest and my breath whooshed out of me.

  Well, that hurt a little . . .

  Sean began sucking at my breasts in a hot frenzy as his hand went between my legs. I was so aroused by the fact that I was naked and he was touching me intimately that it took me a moment to realize he was doing everything wrong.

  And I mean, seriously wrong.

  His hand was on my vagina, but he was just rubbing away with no rhythm or technique. He might as well have been trying to get a persistent stain off the carpet. I mean, his fingers were nowhere near the vicinity of my clit, and that was the most important part.

  The most important part, people.

  His other hand squeezed my breast harshly and rotated it back and forth in a wax-on, wax-off movement, like he was disconnected from the ramifications of his touch. Plus, his tongue was playing no part in the action, only his mouth. I frowned but he didn’t see, because he was too busy giving me the worst foreplay of my life.

  How could he be such an amazing kisser but such an unskilled lover?

  Bracing my hands on his shoulders, I awkwardly pushed him away and he groaned like I was ruining a perfectly good time.

  “Wait, wait a minute. Stop,” I said, wincing because I felt terrible. I mean, how do you tell one of the most attractive men you’ve ever met that he sucks at foreplay?

  You don’t.

  You don’t tell him. You beg off and pretend to have a headache, which was a crying shame. Really, Sean’s inability to put his body to good use was a crime against all womankind.

  “Ronan will never find out,” he assured me and moved to get right back to business.

  I stopped him again, wincing. “That’s not why it’s a bad idea.”

  He stared at me, his eyebrows suspended between panic and frustration. “What’s going on, Lucy?”

  His low, gravelly voice almost undid me. Almost. But then I remembered his clumsy, uncomfortable, decidedly unsexy maneuverings. I was never good at faking, and I wasn’t going to start now.

  “I’m, well, I’m not really feeling it, Sean.”

  He stared at me for several protracted moments. I was certain no woman had ever pressed pause on him before. Christ, most of the women he slept with were probably so elated to be doing it with Sean Cassidy that they didn’t even care if the sex was crap.

  Well, not this woman.

  If sex didn’t feel good, then there wasn’t really a point for me. I didn’t shag for status.

  “You’re not feeling it.” The statement of acceptance rang with a note of hallow self-contempt, surprising me, forcing me to take a closer look at Sleazy Sean Cassidy.

  Resentment hardened his features, but his bitterness was turned decidedly inward. He wasn’t angry with me. He was upset with himself.

  And that’s when I realized the truth.

  Sean knew he was rubbish at foreplay. Something in my expression must’ve registered my discovery because he flinched and sat back away from me. He ran a hand through his hair, looking humiliated.

  Sean Cassidy was blushing.

  “You’re right,” he said through gritted teeth. “This was a bad idea.”

  Rising from the sofa he brushed off his shirt and without another word, turned to leave.

  A brick dropped to the pit of my stomach, my gut twisted and I suddenly felt terrible. He was so big, so powerful, cocky, and yet in that moment appeared terribly inconsequential, defenseless, and humiliated. Alone.

  Without thinking, I stood, grabbing the towel and quickly covering myself before going after him.

  “Wait,” I called.

  He turned around stiffly, hands on his hips as he stared at the floor. “What?”

  Jeez, he sounded angry. “I’m sorry.”

  Now he looked up, his stare glacial. “Don’t apologize. Never apologize for not wanting to have sex. You were just being honest.”

  “Yes, true. But, here’s the thing, I do want to have sex, with you. I do.”

  He barked a bitter laugh. “A pity fuck? Don’t do me any favors.”

  “No,” I replied firmly. Now I frowned at him. “That’s not what this is. I like you. You turn me on and I want to have sex with you, but I just think we’re playing from two different songbooks. Like, I’m performing Mozart but you’re rocking out to Led Zeppelin. We both need to be playing the same tune.”

  The reluctant glimmer of hope behind his gaze made me want to hug him. I could see he was more than tempted and his vulnerability boosted my confidence.

  I added for good measure, “If not the same tune, then at least the same genre.”

  Sean rubbed his jaw, his mouth tugging to the side with an adorably shy smirk, and he took a step forward. “So what are you suggesting?”

  I swallowed, remembering our wonderful kiss on the hill. If he could kiss like that then surely the rest was just a matter of . . .

  A matter of . . .

  Hmm . . .

  “I’m suggesting we go inside my room and give this another try.”

  His jaw worked as he considered my suggestion. After a long moment he finally replied, “Okay, then.”

  I nodded and gestured for him to follow me into the bedroom. Once there I sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at him. “Right so, first things first. Take off your clothes.”

  His smirk widened—less adorably shy and more adorably cocky—but he didn’t make a move. I threw up my hands.

  “Oh, come on. I’m not being a pervert. I’m practically naked and you’re fully clothed. We need to even the playing field a little.”

  “Okay,” he responded softly and proceeded to pull his shirt off over his head. My mouth fell open as he revealed inch after inch of abs and perfectly toned muscle.

  Perhaps I should just get
him to stand there so I could look at him naked while I got myself off?

  Nah, too weird.

  Maybe next time.

  Off went his jeans and then he was lowering his boxers to the floor. My eyes snagged on his dick, which was in proportion to the rest of his physique.

  Okay, I could work with this. I could definitely work with this. His eyes heated and my breathing deepened as our gazes locked. He seemed preoccupied with the dip and curve of my collarbone, and I felt oddly exposed with his eyes there.

  “Tell me what to do,” he said in a low, husky voice, and I watched as his cock began to harden with alarming speed.

  I didn’t say anything for so long that he started to approach the bed. I found myself shifting up as far as the pillows, pulling my knees to my chest as I contemplated the gorgeous hulk of a man who wanted to have his wicked way with me.

  I just had to tell him what to do.

  Right.

  Think, Lucy. Think!

  He was already kneeling on the bed, completely naked, and gripping my calves to pull my legs apart. The movement caused my towel to fall free once more, and his attention wandered to my breasts. He took his time admiring them before lifting his gaze to my face.

  He must have found something funny in my expression because he chuckled in amusement. “I’m waiting, Lucy.”

  I exhaled heavily and cleared my throat. “K-kiss me.”

  My head lay against the pillows as he braced himself above me and lowered his mouth to mine. His lips moved slowly, almost hesitant, but when I slid my tongue against his he groaned and deepened the kiss. I felt myself heating up, a slickness forming between my thighs, and in no time at all I was panting, my clit swollen and aching for pressure.

  “What do you want now?” Sean whispered and my arousal heightened.

  “Kiss me,” I repeated the same command as before.

  His mouth curved in a smile. “I am kissing you.”

  “Somewhere else,” I said shyly and his eyes darkened. I quickly added, “But no teeth. Not yet. Just your lips.”

  “As you wish,” he murmured and began planting soft, barely there kisses down my body. Once his head was between my legs he paused, like he was wary of getting things wrong again.

  “B-blow on me, gently,” I said, throat catching.

  His lips formed an O as he softly blew and I moaned so loudly I’d be surprised if Broderick didn’t hear it next door.

  “Lick my clit,” I went on, my entire body flushing with embarrassment. It felt strange to be instructing him, but at the same time it was a massive turn-on. He was like an obedient servant, waiting on my every command.

  Sean Cassidy as my own personal sexual servant . . . I wondered if I could get him to peel me some grapes afterward.

  Bringing his mouth closer, his tongue snaked out and he licked me. My body bucked, my clit pulsing at the contact, and his hand went to my hipbone to hold me in place. My eyes met his and I realized he was waiting for further instructions.

  My voice was throaty and strained. “Now use your tongue to draw circles around it.”

  “Gently?”

  “Yes.”

  He did as I asked and I moaned again. A low, gravelly hum emanated from the back of his throat as he continued to lick circles around my clit.

  “Oh God,” I breathed. “Now a little faster.”

  My thighs clenched tight and I knew if he kept this up it wouldn’t take long for me to come.

  “Look at you,” Sean whispered, eyes blazing.

  “Put your fingers inside me,” I said and he complied.

  “Like this?” he asked, moving two fingers slowly in and out, gently.

  “Yes,” I answered, my voice suddenly high-pitched.

  I closed my eyes, feeling an orgasm building. Sean’s fingers were hitting just the right spot, and combined with his circles on my clit, I found myself panting and shaking as I came violently on his tongue. I let out a long, satiated sigh, then opened my eyes to find him watching me intently.

  I collapsed into the pillows and threw an arm over my face, slightly embarrassed by his close inspection. He climbed up the bed and pulled my arm back so he could look at my face.

  He seemed fascinated. I stared back at him, unsure why he was looking at me like he was.

  “What?” I whispered, self-conscious.

  “You came,” he said, his voice awed.

  I couldn’t help letting out a small laugh. “Yes, that’s generally what happens when you go down on a woman as fantastically as you just did, Sean.”

  He huffed a gruff breath and grabbed my face, kissing me again. I tasted myself on his tongue. “I could get addicted that.”

  “To what?”

  “To giving you orgasms.”

  I laughed. “Well, who am I to deny you?”

  He smiled, wide and bright, and kissed me some more before murmuring against my mouth, “I want to fuck you now.”

  I hummed my agreement, my body a pliant mass beneath him. His cock nudged at my opening and it felt amazing, but then I started, realizing he wasn’t wearing any protection.

  “Sean, wait. We need to get a condom.”

  “Christ,” he swore and held himself up. “Are they in your bag?”

  I instantly deflated. “No. I didn’t bring any. I hadn’t planned for . . . this.”

  He studied me, brows drawing together. “No, I don’t suppose you did.” A pause and then a spark lit behind his eyes. “Actually, I think I have one in the back pocket of my jeans.”

  “Oh?” I said questioningly.

  He grinned. “You can never be too prepared.”

  “You were planning on getting laid during the hike, weren’t you?”

  Pulling the small foil packet from his jeans, he returned to the bed. His grin didn’t falter. “Well, you are a picnic professional. Why not add another skill to your belt?”

  “I don’t aspire to gain skills that could get me arrested,” I answered, flirtation in my voice.

  “No, I imagine your thievery gets you into enough trouble as it is,” he shot back.

  My smile fell, and a sharp stab of pain sliced through me. I wasn’t sure why, perhaps because we’d just been intimate, but the careless way he made fun of an addiction I truly struggled with had me feeling less than enthusiastic to continue.

  I sat up on the bed, pulling the covers around myself to hide my nudity.

  “That’s not a very kind thing to say,” I told him in a quiet voice.

  His lips formed a frown, confusion diminishing gradually into understanding and concern as he threw down the condom and climbed back onto the bed.

  “No, it wasn’t. I’m sorry,” he murmured in apology as he tried to pull the covers away.

  I held them tighter and gave him my profile. “You know, maybe we should call it a night.”

  “Lucy,” he reached for my hand and, after a bit, I allowed him to take it. He kissed me on the back of my knuckles. “Please look at me.”

  I moved just my eyes to his, found him staring at me with a mixture of alarm and sincere regret.

  “I am sorry. I think by now you know me well enough to realize I’m terrible at more than just foreplay.”

  This earned him a reluctant and suspicious smile. “You’re just trying to get in my pants.”

  “Technically, you’re not wearing any, but that’s not why I apologized.” His eyebrows knit in consternation above his cobalt eyes. “It was a completely insensitive thing to say. I am insensitive. But I’d like to be otherwise, with you, if you’ll give me the chance.”

  I felt myself melting. He was either a world champion at faking sincerity, or his candor might be the sexiest thing about him, and consequently my ruin.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and then again, “I’m sorry.”

  He lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me once, twice. Before I knew it I forgot my worries as I lost myself in Sean Cassidy again. His hands lowered the covers and roamed my body, resolutely gentle, as thoug
h all his movements were mindful. He pulled my thighs around his waist as he picked up the condom and tore the foil with his teeth.

  I watched with rapt interest as he rolled it down his shaft then peered at me in question. “How can I make this good for you, Lucy?”

  Oh, wow, he really was beautiful. I found myself adrift in his gaze for a second before I came to my senses. “Just . . . don’t hold back.”

  He seemed surprised by this and swallowed thickly. The muscles in his arms tensed as he positioned himself and I lost my breath when he pushed into me.

  “Oh,” I cried out.

  “Should I move?” Sean groaned and began to move before I could answer. His hips thrust back and forth, and he didn’t hold back, just like I’d asked. I felt so small, almost fragile, in comparison to his sheer size and virility.

  “You feel incredible,” he said, looking into my eyes. I felt a connection to him, like we truly saw each other in that moment. But then, as though somebody had cut the electricity too soon, he came.

  What the hell?

  Don’t get me wrong, watching a man as attractive as Sean orgasm was an experience in itself. It was just that things had only gotten started and then they were over.

  “Fucking hell,” he swore, burying his face in my neck and shifting to remove the condom, still breathing hard. “Fuck.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I’d never had a man finish so quickly before.

  “Sorry,” he said, his voice sleepy as he trapped me with his arms and snuggled against me.

  I couldn’t speak. I was still too astonished. I mean, we’re talking less than a minute here. I brushed my teeth longer than he’d lasted. And I wasn’t sure whether I should be embarrassed or flattered.

  At length, I finally whispered, “Sorry for what?”

  Sean remained quiet, and I thought maybe he was too abashed to answer, but then I started to notice his breathing evening out.

  He was asleep.

  Wow.

  Wow!

  I chuckled my astonishment, but then frowned and shook my head.

  Now I didn’t know whether to laugh or feel hard done by. Then again, he had made me come quite spectacularly with his fingers and tongue, so it wasn’t like he’d left me hanging. And I had told him not to hold back. I just didn’t think he'd take the request quite so literally.