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“I could tell. He seemed to think you owe him your time despite everything.” Mark frowns. “How long were you with him?”
“About six months. Not long enough to be established with everything, thank God, but long enough that we have history.”
“And things just didn’t align.”
“You could say that.” I’m not about to tell Mark that Rick only wanted me around for sex and pretty much nothing else, whereas I was looking for a relationship. “I don’t mind if someone’s got an opinion about what they want with someone, but it would be nice if they were upfront about it so we don’t waste our time in the long run. He said what I needed to hear to reel me in and I was slow on the uptake.”
Mark shrugs.
“Sounds like he’s not worth your time at all.”
“I told him that, too. If I wanted to have the relationship he wanted, I would have said so.” I make a face. “He promised a lot of things between us would be changing, and I knew he was just telling that to me so I would stay. He wanted someone on tap to fuck, not a girlfriend.”
Shit, why did I just say that to him? I feel like I’m blurting everything out. I don’t get what’s gotten into me.
“I see.” Mark’s eyes regard me thoughtfully. “So you’ve told him to piss off, and he won’t leave you alone?”
“Essentially. It’s frustrating that he seems to think I don’t have a voice in this.” I shake my head. “I regret ever agreeing to anything with him now. I should have walked away when he approached me in the pub.”
“If you want, I can talk to one of my colleagues and see if they can help you out with the legal side…”
“It’s fine. I can handle it.” I hadn’t forgotten that Mark is a barrister when he’s not keeping more than thirty large men in line on a Saturday afternoon. “But I appreciate the thought.”
Mark doesn’t reply for a moment, something passing across his face that I can’t quite read. He sips his beer and shifts a bit further forward on his chair. I feel the brush of his knee against mine, and I have to stop myself from gasping. God, what is wrong with me? He’s just looking out for me, we’re not flirting or anything. And we’re certainly not jumping into bed with each other, so I need to stop this.
But I can’t. I can’t stop the tingling sensation all over my body, the throbbing between my legs increasing to the point I’m starting to squirm. Fucking hell, I shouldn’t be going from zero to sixty this quickly around a guy.
“So, Emma,” I have to really concentrate to listen to him, although I love hearing him say my name, “do you play? Or are you a spectator?”
“These days, I’m just a spectator.” I shake my head. “I use to play, but I’ve torn my ACL and I’ve got to have it repaired before I can go back to anything that involves running or changing direction. And rugby is a pretty intense sport.”
“Ouch.” Mark winces. “How did you manage that?”
“I just stepped sideways. Honest to God,” I add as Mark laughs, “I just stepped to one side and my knee popped and gave way. That hurt.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Last year. Thankfully, I’ve managed to carry on with everything else with restrictions, but the waiting list for surgery seems to get longer and longer.” I reach under the table and absently rub my knee. “I do have an appointment to see a consultant in a couple of months, thank God, but I just wish it would stop being so stiff.”
“I get that. ACLs are a bugger.”
My knuckles brush against Mark’s knee, and I freeze. I can’t believe that I almost ended up squeezing his knee as well. I glance up at him, and Mark is watching me. There’s something in his expression that makes me want to jump his bones and not give a shit to whoever can see us. I can’t begin to describe the feelings that are rushing through me right now as he looks at me.
Does he desire me? Does he want me as much as I want him? I don’t know what to think, but I can feel the temptation to lean over and kiss him.
How did I end up in this position? I have a crush on the referee, and he’s sitting with me having a drink. How is this possible right now?
Mark doesn’t respond for a moment. Then he leans in, cupping the back of my head as he kisses me. It takes a split second for my brain to click on what is happening. Mark Barnes is actually kissing me. How is this happening?
God, please don’t stop.
The kiss is sweet and gentle, and over too soon as Mark eases back with a cough.
“I’m sorry, I…I’m not normally…”
“Don’t apologize.” I grab his shirt before he moves out of reach to tug him back. “Don’t you fucking apologize.”
This time, I take charge of the kiss, and it fires everything in my body. My pussy clenches and my clit is throbbing to the point I have to squeeze my legs together. I’ve not been this turned on just by kissing a guy before. And Mark is making it very easy to forget everything else with that talented mouth of his.
