The Player and the Pixie (Rugby #2)

“Anyway, if you’re interested, you should come along with me to the shelter some time. They always need the extra help, and I’m sure they’d be more than happy to welcome a big strong guy like you. There’s this gigantic malamute named Stan, and I swear he’s so powerful he almost pulls my arm from the socket when I take him for walks.”


Sean chuckled loudly. “When I was a kid I had an Irish wolfhound. His name was Wolfie, original, I know. The dog was huge. Up until I had my growth spurt at fourteen he’d run circles around me.”

I could tell by the way he spoke about the pet that he’d loved him, and something in my heart warmed to think of Sean loving something other than himself. It was a dangerous sort of warmth, one that could transform into true feelings if left unattended.

“I wish I could have met him.”

“He was . . . a good friend. I had him for ten years. He died when I was twenty-one and I never quite had it in me to get another. This is going to sound ridiculous, but it was like losing a person,” he said, laughing tenderly as I heard something catch in his voice.

I grabbed his arm and squeezed it. “It’s not ridiculous, far from it. You loved him. And,” I went on, grinning now, “as far as I’m concerned, dogs are people, so never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Sean smiled back at me, and in that moment it felt like we truly “got” each other.

We walked a bit farther in comfortable silence, the type of pleasant limbo one shares with a friend, until we reached the hot dog kiosk. Once there, I ordered for him, and then we sat on a nearby park bench to eat. Sean took several giant bites out of his hot dog and it was already gone. I was a little bit stunned by how fast he ate.

“Wow, do you rush through everything the same way you rush through sex?” I asked honestly, truly wanting to know. Meanwhile, my entire hot dog sat untouched in my lap.

He considered me as he chewed the final bite. “That’s a low blow, but yes, I just don’t see the point in waiting around. If you want something, go for it.”

“Well,” I said, lowering my voice, “you don’t know what you’re missing. There’s a lot to be said for savoring things.”

“Are we talking about hot dogs now, or sex? Because I’m a little confused.”

I lifted my shoulders then let them fall. “We’re talking everything. Sex, art, books, movies. Would you put on a DVD and fast-forward right to the end? No, because then you can’t enjoy the progression of the story.”

“So this is like the foreplay thing again, right? You want me to tease it out, take my time, tantalize you.” His grin was devilish.

“Exactly,” I said, finally lifting my hotdog and taking a bite. I chewed slowly, then swallowed before turning back to him. “If you just shove food down your throat you’re going to miss out on all the wonderful flavors.”

He was focused on me now, his eyes growing hooded and sexy. “Speaking of, when do I get to taste your flavors again, Lucy?”

I cleared my throat, unable to meet his gaze but still trying for sassy. “No one’s stopping you, Bubs.”

He let out a deep, hearty laugh and draped an arm around my shoulders. “I’m not sure that nickname suits me anymore. Think of another one,” he said in a husky tone.

“Bubs suits you perfectly,” I threw back. “Besides, you don’t even know what it really means yet.”

Now he angled his body toward me, closing the distance between us. “You lied?”

“Maybe.”

His expression showed intrigue. “Tell me.”

I grimaced slightly, because let’s face it, the true meaning of his nickname was kind of embarrassing. “That night we first spoke, I named you Bubs in my head because of your bubble butt.”

“My . . . bubble butt?” He looked genuinely perplexed.

“Oh, don’t give me that. You know your arse is fantastic.”

He laughed softly and leaned down to brush his lips over the underside of my jaw. “So is yours, as it happens.” A pause. “How far are we from your place?”

“Not far.”

“Let’s go, then,” he urged. “All this talk of backsides has me wanting to take you from behind.”

I gasped a surprised laugh, because he really did just say whatever the hell he wanted sometimes. When our eyes met, his had darkened, and I swallowed amid the rush of arousal I felt.

My hunger suddenly forgotten and replaced with a different kind, I wrapped up my hot dog and stowed it in my bag. Not allowing myself to think too much about my actions, we caught another taxi to Annie’s apartment and before I knew it, I was leading Sean up the stairs, a ball of anticipation forming in my belly.

I was a pile of jittery nerves and horniness. Sean ran a hand up and down my back while I searched for my keys. Then, to my horror, I heard movement come from inside.

Realization dawned on me, and I had just enough time to shove Sean away and out of sight before Annie opened the door.