Free Shooting for the Stars by Sarina Bowen Page B

tequila had been consumed tonight, Stella now felt as sober as a stone.
    There was an unfamiliar sting behind her eyelids, too.
    It didn’t help that Bear got up and disappeared. The room felt too cool all of a sudden. She heard a flush, and knew he’d just disappeared into the john to throw the condom away. But she was very alone in that bed for a moment, wondering if she’d just made a colossal mistake.
    He returned, though. She felt the bed depress, and then the warmth of his body moved over to curve around hers. His big leg hitched between hers, and a broad hand came sliding around her waist. He made a satisfied sound. She could feel his muscles relaxing against her body. Men . They were such simple creatures. Give them food or sex, and they were happy.
    “You okay, buddy?” he asked quietly.
    Stella’s heart contracted at the sound of his familiar nickname for her. “Mmm,” she said. It wasn’t a very definitive statement, though, so she also reached a hand back, over her head, to ruffle his thick hair through her fingers. She couldn’t roll to face him, though. She didn’t trust her eyes not to well with tears. She’d gotten something she always wanted. But it was terrifying to realize immediately afterwards how much she still wanted it.
    Once would never, ever be enough.

Eight

    I N THE MORNING , B EAR woke up slowly.
    When you spent five or more months of the year traveling to sporting events all over the world, waking up could be a confusing adventure. With his eyes still slammed shut, he took stock. The bed beneath him was comfortable and also large. No part of him dangled off the edge. It felt great, actually. It beat the hell out of waking up in his sleeping bag on someone else’s hotel room floor. (That happened, sometimes.) Much of Bear felt great, actually. There was a dull pain in his head, though. That wasn’t unusual.
    He was, however, naked.
    Bear’s eyes flew open, and the realization kicked in. Naked. Fancy wooden beams on the ceiling. Tahoe. Tequila .
    Stella.
    Oh, fuck .
    Gingerly, Bear turned his head to the side. It was almost a relief to discover that he was alone in the bed. The only sound he could hear was the cycling of water from that ridiculous hot tub in the bathroom.
    And it was just as well, because he needed a couple minutes alone, if only to process what had happened. Bear closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. It had been glorious, really. The intense look in Stella’s eye while they made love? So hot. His whole life he’d kept a sturdy wall between desire and the wonderful creature that was Stella Lazarus. Last night, he’d dropped that wall.
    Afterward, he’d fallen asleep curled around her body, but woke up again a couple of hours later. Alcohol always trashed his sleep cycle. He’d tiptoed into the bathroom for a glass of water. In the dark, he’d borrowed Stella’s toothbrush and washed his face. Then he’d tiptoed back to bed, climbing in as quietly as possible.
    She’d turned in toward his body immediately.
    “Hi, buddy,” he’d whispered, not knowing whether she was asleep or awake. In answer, warm hands skimmed his chest. That was all it took. He leaned in, giving her a deep and minty kiss. On the sound of a sigh, Stella had pressed her beautiful body up against his. Before long he was pulling her up onto his thighs while she reached for a condom on the table.
    With the dark cloaked around them, there hadn’t been any thinking. Just heat and craving.
    But now? In the daylight, things looked different. Hank was going to shoot him. Jesus Christ . “Do you mind taking Stella out tonight to celebrate?” his friend had asked. Yeah. Sure. No problem, Hank .
    A few short hours later, he’d… Bear clapped one hand over his eyes and held back a groan. There was no greater violation of the guy code than the sin he had just committed.
    They weren’t cavemen, of course. There was a version of events which might have made a Bear and Stella combination