She looked at her watch, stifling a yawn. 'No, it's past midnight. We ought to get going.' She pushed back from the table and stood.
He stepped closer to her. 'I'll follow you back to your place.'
'I have to drive Daphne to her car. I won't be home until nearly one o'clock, I'm sure.'
'I don't care if you're not home until five. I'm coming over.'
She looked at him wide-eyed and he knew she was expecting an ugly scene. He didn't know how to reassure her with words, not when he didn't know how he felt, and not when there were half a dozen of his fellow players within earshot. Not knowing what else to do, he grabbed her hand and, out of sight of the others, squeezed it firmly. 'I'll see you both to your car. It's not the type of neighborhood you should be walking around in on your own.'
Emma nodded and pried Daphne away from her prey.
Greg got up at the same time. 'I should have been home an hour ago,' he said. 'Tina will have my hide. I'll walk with you.'
When Emma and Daphne were safely away in Emma's car, Greg put his arm over Russ's shoulder. 'Now that, my fellow, was a sweet girl. Smart, too. You know I'm going to have to hurt you if you treat her badly.'
'Does that mean I should keep seeing her, or break it off?' Russ replied.
Greg shoved the back of his head and headed for his own car. 'She's a keeper, if you ask me. And I saw the way she looked at you.'
'How did she look at me?'
'How do you think, you idiot?' Greg got in his car, slamming the door and leaving Russ to figure it out for himself.
Chapter Thirteen
What were you thinking?' The words greeted her as she walked through the door to her apartment. Russ was already inside, which didn't surprise her since she had dawdled on her return here, dreading facing him.
'I wanted to see you play,' she said, setting her purse down on the end of the breakfast bar. He was standing in the center of her living area, hands on hips.
'Why?'
She shrugged, trying to think of an excuse. The last thing she would tell him that her interest in him was growing well beyond the sexual. 'Curiosity. I don't know anything about hockey except what you've told me.'
'You could have looked it up online or bought a book. Why did you come to my game? I didn't even mention it to you.'
'But you play the same place every week. Your team's schedule is on the Internet.'
His eyes widened slightly. 'You looked it up?'
'I was curious, that's all! I wanted to see you play, and I didn't think you'd want me to watch. My intention was that you not see me at all. How was I to know that no one else watches the games, and Daphne and I would stick out like palm trees on the polar ice cap?'
'So you planned to conceal it from me.'
Her apprehensions of the evening slipped over into anger and she raised her voice. 'I didn't
'It feels like you know all there is to know about me, but you give me precious little insight into your own life.'
'I've shared more with you than I have with anyone in the past five years.'
She tucked in her chin, taken aback. She hadn't expected that. 'Are you serious?'
'It's not something I'd lie about.'
She frowned, trying to figure him out. 'Why me? Why tell me so much?'
'Maybe because you tell me so little.'
'What are you talking about?' she asked, stunned. 'You know everything.'
'I don't know how to please you in bed.'
The statement took the breath from her, guilt sweeping over her. 'I'm happy with how you treat me in bed.'
He shook his head. 'You know what I'm talking about, Emma. You won't let me give to you the same pleasure that you give to me. Why?'
'Because this isn't about me. This whole relationship is about pleasing you. That's my job.'
'Maybe I don't want to feel like you're doing me as your job.'
'You seemed happy enough!'
'Even a kid will get sick of candy eventually and want something real to eat.'
She felt stricken. 'You're sick of me?'
He came forward and held her by the shoulders. 'I'm not sick of you. Nor am I some stereotyped horndog who cares only about himself. I want to make love to the real Emma, not a French servant girl or a harem wench. Not even to someone whose mind is elsewhere, and whose only goal is to get me off. There is pleasure in giving pleasure: pleasure in knowing that you've touched a place deep inside a person; that she's trusted you with her secret desires, and felt safe enough to lose control in your arms. You've deprived me of that-whether by design or ignorance or fear, I don't know. But without it, we can't go on.'
'I like what you do to me, Russ-truly I do. I don't know why I don't stay with it all the way; why I don't let you get me 'there.''
He slid his hand up her neck and into her hair. 'What am I doing wrong? Why won't you open up to me?'
'I don't even open up to myself,' she said softly.
'Why?'
She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his chest. 'I don't know. I think I'm afraid.'
'Of what?' he asked more gently.
'Of embarrassing myself. Making a fool of myself. Being laughed at. Being vulnerable.'
She felt him smooth his hand through her hair. 'It's okay to be afraid. It's not okay to let that fear stifle you.' He kissed her temple, his lips lingering as he whispered, 'Tell me what you want.'
His words shivered down her spine and she closed her eyes. 'I don't know what I want.'
He stepped back, holding her away from him. She opened her eyes in surprise.
'You have to tell me, Emma. Tell me what you want me to do to you. Spell it out in English.'
She hunched her shoulders, the thought of telling him where and how to touch her too mortifying to accept. 'I can't do that.'
He dropped his hands. 'I can't continue like this. We're finished, then.'
Panic flashed through her. 'No!'
'It's your choice.'
'But- But you can't mean that I have to verbally guide you to my own orgasm!'
He picked his jacket up off the couch. 'You can stay in the apartment as long as you need to.'
'No! Russ, wait!'
He held still, watching her.
'Wait. I…' She couldn't speak. Couldn't do this thing he wanted of her.
He moved toward the door.
'I want you to put your coat down!'
He turned, cocking an eyebrow at her.
'And… and then I want you to pick me up and carry me to the bedroom!'
He draped his jacket over the breakfast bar and came toward her. Alarm ran up her spine and she was filled with sudden apprehension. They'd been intimate for weeks, but an embarrassed modesty swept over her as he approached. This would be the first time that the focus was all on her. He was putting the control of what
