Page 15 of The Hellion and the Captain (Scandals and Scores #2)

Chapter Thirteen

“ L ast training session before our first match,” Rhys said, staring Emmaline up and down.

She was dressed once more in those breeches that showed off her perfectly defined bottom, the shirt hugging her curves, which were obvious, even though he knew – from first-hand experience – that her breasts were wrapped in linen beneath her shirt.

They had finished all their endurance training and had reached the end of practice when he wanted to go over a few skills, although that was one area she didn’t seem to need much help.

“I’m ready,” she said, even as he caught the glimpse of nervousness in her eyes.

“Are you truly?” he said. “For if you are not?—”

“I said I’m ready,” she insisted, that glint of steel returning to her expression. “Do not suggest otherwise.”

“Very well,” he said, kicking the ball toward her. “Prove it.”

“Prove it?”

“Yes,” he said, stretching out his arms. Despite his better judgment, they were back in the clearing on her family’s property. She had made the case that if they were in public, she would have to disguise herself again, which she preferred not to. “Get by me.”

“Very well,” she said smugly, and he knew exactly what she was thinking. He was a forward, not a defender. This should be easy.

She held his gaze as she started toward him with the ball at her feet, dribbling it easily. She attempted to deke around him, but he followed her body, not her feet, and he blocked her, deflecting the ball away from the net.

She stopped, arms on her hips in annoyance. “How did you know I was going that way?” she asked, but instead of anger, he could see that she was truly curious.

“I watched the motion of your hips,” he said, reaching out, a thrill rushing through him when he brushed his hands against them. “You make it obvious which way you are heading with them.”

“I do?” she said, blinking.

“You do,” he confirmed. “Next time, try this.”

He stopped behind her, his arms closing around her waist. “When you bring it back that way, turn left and then make it seem like you are fully committed before you make a quick movement with your feet. Make sense?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Try again.”

He backed her up as they each retook their positions.

As she approached, she brought the ball backward, and then, before he could even blink, she did exactly what he said, only instead of fully committing to her deke, she tapped it between his legs and ran around him toward the two trees, sending it flying between them.

“Goal!” she said, lifting her fists and running in a circle.

Rhys laughed, shaking his head in admiration as he watched her celebration. “Well done, Emmaline. You’re a quick study.”

Emmaline beamed at his praise.

Rhys closed the distance between them, even as unease filled him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, reading him.

He paused, wondering how much he should tell her. “I am worried.”

“That I will not be able to handle myself on the field?”

“No.” He shook his head. “That I won’t.”

She blinked. “Rhys, you’ve been playing forever. What do you have to be worried about?”

“I have been. But I’ve never played with you on the field.” He stepped closer toward her. “I am worried that I might not be an appropriate judge of how to act with you while we are playing football.”

“Rhys…” she breathed, her eyes widening. “I thought that we were fine. That we were nothing to one another.”

“We cannot be anything more than this,” he said, but his words didn’t match the draw he felt toward her. One that, from her expression, she also felt.

“Then why?—”

“I can’t get you off my mind. Maybe a taste will be enough for me to let that desire go,” he murmured, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

In the past, he had always tired of women.

Perhaps, after a few more stolen moments with her, they would find what they needed and be able to return to their friendship without anything lingering.

“I should be insulted,” she said, quirking an eyebrow, and he looked down at her, so close to him that he could see every one of those freckles that dotted her nose. Someday, he would love to count them. “You think being with me once more would be enough for you?”

A flash of insecurity crossed over her face. It was so rare to see on Emmaline – a woman who had enough confidence to play with a football club of men – that he couldn’t help but to question it, even if it did dampen their current flirtation.

“I never meant to insult you,” he said quietly, lacing the fingers of both of their hands together.

“No, of course not,” she said, dropping her gaze, a forced smile on her face when she returned it. “I was just teasing.”

“But there was more to it,” he stated. “What concerns you?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly. Too quickly.

“Emmaline,” he said firmly. “Tell me.”

“You are right,” she said, pressing her lips together. “You probably will tire of me. Everyone does. I am a good time. Great for a bit of fun in the gardens at a party, but I am not the woman anyone wants to spend more time with. To be serious about. To marry.”

She tried to smile again but fell short this time, rendering Rhys speechless. To think that anyone had ever made this woman feel anything less than she was made him want to find whoever had done so and put a fist through their face. No one deserved her. Least of all him.

“Who?” he breathed. “Who made you feel like this?”

She shrugged. “No one. Everyone. There is no one for you to fight, Rhys.” Her violet eyes bored into him now. “Besides, are you not one of them? You just told me that a taste of me should be enough to ‘let your desire go’ as I believe you referred to it.”

He was instantly flooded with regret for his words. For she was right. He had hoped that he would be able to do so, mostly for her sake. But it had nothing to do with her being forgettable. Far from it.

“This had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me,” he said. “If I were to ever commit to someone, it would be to a woman like you. But I cannot. ”

“Why not?” she asked, her face open.

“Because you are on the football field with me. Because you deserve more than a man like me, one who comes from nothing.”

“That’s what Colin said too,” she said, waving her hand around. “Old news.”

He couldn’t help but gruffly laugh at that before reaching out and taking her hands again.

“There is one thing you need to understand, Emmaline.” He gazed into her eyes, feeling like he could see directly into her soul.

“You are worth more than any woman I have ever met. You are determined. You let nothing stop you. You look out for those around you. You care about them and have more courage than anyone I have ever met.”

She scoffed. “That is kind, but I just wanted to play football.”

“You chased a dream,” he said. “Most people sit around wishing, hoping, regretting the decisions they made or didn’t make. You look yours in the face and do everything you can to make them come true. That is admirable.”

“Thank you,” she said, finally accepting his compliment. “But that does not make me any more desirable than another woman.”

“That,” he said firmly, “is where you are wrong. Those are the very reasons that make me want you more than I have ever wanted another woman.”

“Then why don’t you go after what makes you happy, Rhys?” she challenged him. “Especially if you find such a quality so admirable?”

And just like he had found her vulnerabilities, she touched upon his.

“Because I am not as brave as you,” he murmured, as ashamed of himself as he was proud of her.

“How can that be true?” she asked, the breeze sweeping a lock of hair across her face, and she lifted their joined hands to brush it away, his knuckles trailing along the soft skin of her face. “You have come so far. You are a bank manager, the captain of a football team.”

“I am,” he agreed. “I have come far from where I began, and I am successful by society’s standards, yes. Yet… I would like more in my life.”

“Like a family?”

He hesitated, wondering if he had been wrong to share that with her, for in this moment, he could see one way to fill the hole he desperately longed to fill in his life.

With her.

“I am lonely,” he admitted tersely. “Despite all of the people who surround me – my teammates, my coworkers – I do not enjoy eating dinner or going to bed alone, nor waking up each morning to an empty apartment.”

“You have said as much,” she said, inching closer. There wasn’t much room left between them, so now, her upturned face was near to meeting his. He only needed to tilt his head to meet her halfway. “I would like to challenge you, Rhys.”

“Would you now?”

“Go after what you want. Take the chance. Create the life you are longing for. I know that you can.”

He paused, wondering if she understood what she was asking him to do. For what he wanted right now… was her.

She stared directly back at him, and he realized she knew exactly what she was doing. And that she wanted this as much as he did.

“I accept your challenge,” he said to her, his hands wrapping around her waist as he tugged her closer toward him, their bodies almost touching, “but I need you to promise me one thing.”

She waited.

“You need to understand your worth. To know that any man would be lucky to have you, and if he doesn’t understand that, then you are too good for him. Do you hear me?”

She nodded briefly.

“Good,” he said.

Before she could say anything else, he met her challenge while answering her own.

He leaned in and captured her lips with his – a hungry, possessive kiss that left no doubt about his desire for her.

Rhys’s hands slid up Emmaline’s back, pulling her flush against him as he deepened the kiss. Her lips parted eagerly under his, a soft moan escaping her throat. The sound sent a thrill through him, urging him on.

He traced the seam of her lips with his tongue before delving inside, tasting her sweetness. She met him stroke for stroke, her own tongue tangling with his in a sensual dance. Her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging him even closer.

Rhys lost himself in the feel of her – the softness of her curves pressed against the hard planes of his body, the scent of lavender and woman that clung to her skin, the breathy little gasps she made as he trailed kisses along her jaw and down the column of her throat.

He nipped at her pulse point, soothing the sting with his tongue, and felt her shiver in his arms. Her hands roamed over his back and shoulders, leaving fiery trails in their wake. Desire, hot and heavy, coiled low in his belly.

Breaking the kiss, Rhys rested his forehead against hers, both of them panting for breath. “Emmaline,” he rasped, his voice rough with need. “We shouldn’t... I can’t...”

She silenced him with a finger to his lips. “Shh,” she whispered. “Don’t think, Rhys. Just feel. Accept this. Accept me.”

And then her mouth was on his again, her kiss fierce and demanding. Rhys groaned, the last threads of his control snapping. He backed her up against a nearby tree, his body covering hers as he plundered her mouth.

Emmaline arched into him, fitting into the curve of his body like she was made for him. Perhaps she was. In this moment, with passion burning through his veins and her warm and willing in his arms, it felt like they were two halves of a whole, coming together at last.

His hands skimmed down her sides to her hips, gripping them tightly as he ground his arousal against her center.

Even through the layers of their clothing, he could feel her heat, her readiness for him.

It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to strip her bare and bury himself inside her right then and there.

But he couldn’t. Not here, not like this.

When he took her – and he would, he knew that now with a bone-deep certainty – it should be in a bed, where he could worship every inch of her body as she deserved.

Where he could take his time learning her, pleasuring her, wringing cries from her kiss-swollen lips.

Where he could show her that she was more than a “good time,” that she should be given all he had to give and more.

Reluctantly, Rhys gentled the kiss, easing them back from the brink. He peppered soft, sweet kisses over her face – her cheeks, her eyelids, the tip of her nose. Emmaline sighed contentedly, but she didn’t let go.

His hands ran over her sides, skimming her hips, her waist, her breasts, but he couldn’t stop and linger there, or he might forget all reason and take her there in the middle of the field.

“Why are you stopping?” she asked, her breath coming in pants.

“You deserve more than a tupping in a field.”

“But you do want to… ‘tup’ me?” she asked, her eyes glinting.

“I want to,” he said ferociously. “But I shouldn’t. ”

“Says who?”

“I can think of many people who would say so, most notably your father.”

“But not me,” she said, biting her lip. “And I believe that we are the only people that matter when it comes to this situation.”

She leaned back and looked up into his eyes.

“You took that first step,” she said, her lips curling into a feline smile, but he also noted that mischievous look that lit her eyes. “But you’re not done yet, Rhys.”

“Am I not?” He was both excited and terrified.

“No. Not by a long shot.”