Perfect Sense (Perfect Series Book 1) Page 9
“What are you, a detective?” He turns away from me to let Marley run her hands down his muscular backside. She pretends that she isn’t eavesdropping by humming lightly to herself, but the way her eyes shift between the two of us tells me otherwise.
I snort. “Ah, it all makes sense now.”
“What makes sense?” He looks at me over his shoulder.
“That’s why you’re such a misogynistic jerk. You’ve had your heart broken.”
He spins around to face me, almost knocking Marley over in the process. I smile at him, unable to control my curiosity, especially now that he appears agitated. His eyes meet mine briefly, before he slides them down the length of my bare legs and back up to my eyes. “Unlike your petal heart, mine’s unbreakable, Mittens. Nice try though.”
“Really? Every other tattoo on your body is easy to figure out. They are either hockey related or a generic tribal design…this one though, it’s different.”
He steps in front of me and points to the first word written on his chest. “It reminds me that in an instant your life can change forever. The mistakes of my past cause me to live with regret and guilt every single goddamn day of my life. For what I lost, I would relive that day a million times over to make it right. That’s what it means, okay.”
Marley snaps the lid of the bottle shut, breaking our stare, and tosses the empty bottle into a wastebasket on the ground.
With a smile, she looks up at him, batting her eyes. “You’re ready now, Mr. Brooks.”
“Places everyone!” Francisco shouts.
“Oh God,” I mumble under my breath, nerves washing over me.
Cash pulls me against his chest and whispers against my ear. “Relax. You look smoking hot. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about.”
In an instant, the flash of the camera takes over my senses while Francisco directs our movements to work out the perfect shot. Cash’s eyes burn into mine as he grips my hair, brushing our noses slightly. I feel awkward at first, but with Cash guiding every pose we take, the more relaxed I become. As he begins to sense my ease, he pulls me closer, running his hands up my thighs. I let out a tiny gasp from his warm touch against my bare skin and his gaze flickers to mine.
He gives me roguish grin, moving his hands slowly up my sides and I find myself gravitating further into him. My legs wrap around him, my neck elongates, inviting him closer – inviting the camera to capture our electricity. He playfully nips at me and brushes his lips against my chin, my cheeks, my chest and my breasts, each peck becoming a little harder and driving me insane.
“Cash—” I hope he hears the panic in my voice.
He possessively cups my ass in his hands and my head tilts and my back arches at his touch. He leans in running his nose along my rib cage, and his hands up my sides. Suddenly I am lost, taken and torturously wanting him to take me right here in front of everyone in the middle of the studio.
Flash. Flash. Flash.
“Feel that, Mittens?” He slowly caresses the backs of my legs, awakening a billion and one unearthly prickles.
Flash. Flash. Flash.
“Cash—” I moan again, squirming beneath him.
“Give into me,” he whispers, moving us into another pose. “You know I’m not going to stop until I get what I want.”
“Cash! I want less talking and more modeling. These shots are golden and I want more,” Francisco shouts, with another flash of his camera. “Save your conversation with Quinn for after the shoot.”
Cash breaks his stare from me and turns to Francisco, grumbling, “If you want more, you got it.” His tongue flashes out, and he licks and sucks my bottom lip, then he lets go and watches me with those fiercely hypnotizing blue eyes as he trails his fingers up the front of my chest to cup my breasts.
My heart beats a mile a minute, unable to pull myself away, wanting more. The cameras, the lights, everyone watching us coupled with his commanding hands have me so worked up I can barely breathe. He slides his hands over my breasts and along my ribs and quickly spins me around, pulling my ass against his throbbing erection, until I’m a pile of putty melting in his hands. I can feel Cash’s chin brush against my shoulder as his mouth nears my ear, then grazes to a whisper from my lips.
“Don’t you dare kiss me, Brooks,” I warn.
“Or what, Mittens?”
My response falters as his hand cups the back of my neck, pulling me closer and holding me still. He runs his free hand down my bare arm and my lips part and my breathing hitches as he moves his hand up the line of my neck then uses the back of it to run his knuckles softly down my cheek. I have no time to register my fury mixed with a heavy dose of desire that surges through me when I hear him mutter, “That’s what I thought.”
His wet and sexy lips cover mine. I push my hands against his chest, trying to resist his kiss, acutely aware of all the eyes on us. Logically, my mind is telling me to end it, but my body is begging me to lose myself in the kiss that I have been craving the moment I laid eyes on him.
Finally, common sense wins my internal feud and I manage to push him back a fraction, forcing his mouth to break away from mine. I lock my eyes with his, both of us breathing heavy with the lights shining down on us. Even though I know a million eyes are on us, it feels like we are the only two people in the room.
“Do we need to take five?” The sound of Francisco’s voice brings me back to reality. I push back on Cash’s chest, embarrassed and confused from the playful flicker in his eyes as he stares back at me in silence.
He looks so damn smug, and way to gorgeous in his conceit. A million thoughts start running through my mind and panic washes over me, feeling my perfectly constructed life crashing down all around me, because of him and his damn ego. And right now, as badly as I want to slam his lips back against mine, all I can think about is how pompous he looks and how proud he must feel knowing he broke me.
“No, we’re done here.” Staggering back, I bring a trembling hand up to my mouth to cover my swollen lips. His eyes snap up to mine, the clear blue color darkened by desire. Anger flashes through them fleetingly.
“What?” Francisco shouts. “No, you can’t be done! You two are electric!” he exclaims beaming at his camera. “Quinn darling, you can’t wrap it up because of a silly kiss. Take five, splash some cold water on your face, and we’ll get you back into hair and makeup before we take the final shots.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t.” I scurry away, feeling Cash’s eyes follow me all the way off the set and through the double doors.
Once I am safely tucked behind closed doors, I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. My cheeks are flush and my hair is ruined from Cash’s hands running through it. I let out a trembling breath as I pin a few loose strands of hair back into place and then lean against the sink for a moment.
On the other side of the wall, I can hear the dull echo of Francisco’s voice calling for a break. Closing my eyes, a shiver moves through me, my lips still burning from our kiss. And while part of me still wants to slap him, the other part of me is so turned on from his touch, that all I want to do is yank him into this bathroom to pull down his shorts and lick.
Keep it together, Quinn. I tell myself as place my hand firmly on the door knob. Turning it, I push the door open and step out into the hallway. My eyes are met with a very pompous looking Cash, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His baby blues projecting hot lust in my direction.
“Who the hell do you think you are, kissing me like that in front of all those people?”
So much for keeping it together.
“What really scares you about us, Mittens?” His eyes darken. He slowly takes a step forward, bringing our bodies inches apart.
I stare back at him, watching a smug smile curl the edge of his lips. I inhale a sharp breath as he brushes my loose and wild curls over my shoulder. Despite my fury, feeling his touch on my heated skin triggers a rippling sensation everywhere his fingers trace.
I sh
ove my finger into his chest. “You only want me because I’m the first female smart enough not to play your games. And deep down it’s killing you. But here’s the thing, Casanova, I know what I want and I know what I need to do to get it. And some asshole jock with a terrible track record might be able to give me temporary satisfaction, but I know that in the long run he’s a perfect fucking mess that makes no sense whatsoever to involve myself with, regardless of what I may or may not feel.”
“You’re a ticking time bomb, Mittens.” He leans in inches away from my mouth, the gleam in his eyes telling me he feels my body trembling in his arms. “And once you explode, trust me, there will be no such thing as temporary.”
Chapter 7
The following week, I attend a charity skate hosted by the Bexley Bruisers for St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital. Every year Bruisers players volunteer to skate with children and sign autographs. The event helps raise money for the hospital, while children and their families get a chance to win prizes and meet the team.
Of course, I’ll admit after the kiss I shared with Cash at the photo shoot I’m nervous as all hell to see him again, but I’ve given myself a good prep talk in preparation of his presence. Over the past week I’ve thought long and hard about my options in dealing with him, and I am pretty sure I have a solid plan.
Keep a safe distance.
Walking quickly into the arena where children are being ushered onto the ice, I check my reflection in the mirrored windows. I have on my favorite go-to little black dress that hugs my curves in all the right places, high red heels and a pair of boho-chic inspired earrings I made the night before.
“Quinn,” Theo calls out and waves me over.
I smile and I walk down the concrete steps toward the glass surrounding the perimeters of the rink. I turn my head to my left to catch a glimpse of the numerous volunteers engaging children in activities on the rink before the players are welcomed.
“It looks fantastic in here!” I turn to face Theo, a broad grin on his face. “I can’t believe the amount of people.”
“As you can see, it’s one of the major fundraising events of the year.” He motions his hand toward the throng of people filing into the arena. “I can’t wait to introduce you to some of our biggest sponsors.”
“Thanks, Theo. I’m looking forward to it.”
All the air vacuums from my lungs and my heart kicks into overdrive when I see that trademark honey hair swim into focus on my far right with his arm wrapped around a tall strawberry blonde.
Keep a safe distance. I remind myself.
“Sorry, Quinn,” Theo says, breaking my eyes away from Cash and the mystery woman. “Coach Bartley is waving me down. I’ll be right back.”
I absentmindedly nod and Theo disappears in the crowd. I try to look away from Cash, but his broad shoulders fill his jersey in a way that would make any other man feel inadequate in his presence. His blue eyes sparkle with laughter from whatever danced out of her pretty pink lips. Strangely his demeanor is relaxed and there is little to no arrogance radiating from him while he converses with her. For a second I even wonder if she could be his sister, noticing the comfortable and familiar air between them.
When his eyes meet mine his mouth spreads into a slow, smug smile. Catching me off guard, my cell phone buzzes in my clutch. I pull it out and quickly turn it off, seeing Aiden’s number illuminated on my screen. When I look back up I see Cash abruptly excuse himself. He stalks over in my direction, geared from head to toe in his full equipment.
Oh Shit.
All the air drains from lungs and the room suddenly becomes tenser and heavier the closer he gets. Once he is in front of me, one side of his mouth turns up as he leans against the wall and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Where are your skates?”
I laugh once. “I’m not here to skate around with you, Cash. I’m here to make sure the event runs smoothly. It’s my job.”
He looks back at the strawberry blonde, texting on her cell and then back to me. “Who were you on the phone with?”
“Shouldn’t you be worried about who your date is on the phone with?”
His gaze flickers to my mouth and my God, the heat I feel from his subtle shift in sight, suddenly has me wishing he would kiss me. Again. The amused grin on his lips, as he watches my cheeks flush makes me almost forget where I am.
“She’s not my date.” Cash leans in so close to me that I can feel his hot breath on my mouth.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Oh, really? She’s not your date?”
“If there’s one thing I don’t do with women, it’s date them.”
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot. You just objectify them…” I lower my voice to a near whisper. “And kiss them even after they tell you not to.”
A subdued arrogance radiates from his bright blue eyes. He shakes his head and laughs once. “Come on, you’re not still angry about that kiss are you?”
“Angry? That’s the understatement of the century.” I fold my arms on my chest.
My stomach drops at the look of hunger in his eyes as he watches me with a slight smirk on his face. I immediately regret bringing that kiss up, right here and now. What happened to keeping my distance?
I quickly turn away. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to find Theo.”
His hand grips my elbow, spinning me around to face him. He nods over to the strawberry blonde. “She’s not what you think.”
I shrug him off. “Does it really matter what I think?”
“I’m sorry, okay,” he murmurs, taking one steps closer. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have kissed you. Don’t hate me for it.”
I’m not sure what surprises me more: that he looks worried about my imminent response or that he just apologized and I’m suddenly a pile of mush. “Honestly, I want to hate you, but I don’t.”
He lifts his chin, eyes shining in amusement. “Tell me who you were on the phone with.”
“Excuse me?”
“Come on,” His blue eyes burn into mine. “Just tell me.”
“It was Aiden.”
“Are you going out with him?”
“Yeah, I might go out with him and a few other friends next Friday if I’m not stuck working late.”
The sound of several players laughing their way onto the ice behind us breaks our stare and saves me from his prying eyes. Turning my back to him, I weave my way through the crowd and leave him behind.
Once I put myself at a safe distance, I watch him across the arena toss on his helmet and say something to the strawberry blonde. He hands her an envelope and she glances back in my direction with a scowl on her face. She turns back to face him, and then leans over and whispers something in his ear. All of a sudden I’m not feeling well and want desperately to escape from this room. I can’t stop the jealously I’m feeling as I watch her strut through the arena in her painted on blue jeans and tight black t-shirt that does nothing to hide the fact that she's clearly had a spectacular boob job. She glances back at me one last time and snickers, before she exits through the back door.
It’s only been a whole fifteen minutes and I am already fighting my eyes from gawking at Cash on the ice. Luckily, Theo put me in charge of organizing player interviews with the media for post-event press, which has kept me decently occupied. I fix my face in a passable smile as I saunter down the stairs and walk around the edge of the rink to find media reporters, when I hear a praising female voice on my right.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Brooks. You’ve made his day.”
Curiosity drags my gaze to a very proud-looking mother with short dark hair, leaning over the boards to take a picture of Cash kneeling beside a little boy, no older than six or seven.
“No problem.” Cash flashes one of his charming grins and playfully pats the boy’s helmet. He kneels down and then wraps his arm around the boy’s shoulders. They both smile for the camera while his mother takes a picture.
“You play hockey, buddy?” Cash asks him, still down at the boy’s le
vel.
The little boy nods in awe at the sound of Cash’s voice. His mother speaks up for him in his silence. “Yes, he does. And he loves coming to Bexley Bruisers games to watch you play. You’re his favorite player.”
Cash’s face softens and he relaxes, smiling at the boy. “Hockey’s a great game, kid. Work hard and prove yourself every shift, every game. Got it?”
The little boy nods, his eyes light up with such admiration for Cash that they illuminate the entire arena.
“Think you can out-skate me to center ice?” Cash asks him with a playful twinkle in his eyes.
The little boy nods again, this time with a huge grin as Cash slowly counts to three. When he shouts GO, Cash purposely hangs back for a split second and lets the little boy speed past him to center ice. The mother laughs and the boy is ecstatic when he hits the big red dot before Cash does. He squeals with delight when Cash skates up to him, pretending to huff and puff down the ice. Other children who are skating around them see Cash acting like a big goof and start begging him to race them too. Within seconds, Cash has about thirty kids lined up one after another to race him from one blue line to the other.
“What is it about Brooks that all you girls can’t get enough of?” Viktor’s voice catches me off-guard, and I jump, throwing my hand over my heart.
“Shit. Viktor,” I breathe out, blushing. “You scared me.”
He nods toward Cash and the kids, racing along the boards. “Let me guess…you’re shocked that despite his good looks, he actually has a heart.”
I turn my gaze back to Cash who is now on his backside, covered by a bunch of kids tackling him to the ground.
“He’s hardly good looking,” I lie, avoiding his eyes. "Plus he's an ass."
“Come on, Quinn, I thought a girl like you would be immune to his whole aloof and cocky persona.” Viktor watches me with a look of curiosity. The sound of skates slicing across the ice, and the chatter of voices in the background fills the overwhelming awkwardness of my heated cheeks. “You know; this event means a lot to him. Apparently, his mother was a childhood cancer survivor. Didn’t you know he’s one of the biggest sponsors?”