Game On! (Seaside Heat) (11 page)

“Don’t stop.” She guided his hands to her breasts and pushed back meeting his thrusts.

He groaned, catching a fistful of her hair, riding her faster.

The naughty slap of his flesh against hers unraveled her control.

“So fucking good.” He panted.

“Heath.” Light flashed behind her lids. She fell further than she had ever dared.

Spending the weekend at the Outer Banks with Jordan left Heath wishing for more than a game. He cinched the belt on his football pants then shoved his shoulder pads into his dark blue jersey emblazoned with a red eighty-seven. She’d be in the audience tonight for the first time, and he hoped to make her proud. He squeezed into his jersey.

“Nervous?” Dugan pounded him on the shoulder.

“Naw, just want to show her what I can do.” He lifted the front of his jersey and tightened the straps on the pads.

“You’ve got game if she’s already taking weekend trips with you, bro.”

“I meant football.”

Dugan laughed and grabbed his helmet from his cubby. “I’m sure she’s a football fan, but I bet she’s more interested in your plays between the sheets.”

To become more than a sex toy, he needed to prove he had a plan for their future that extended beyond football.

The locker room door swung open and in marched their coach who whistled and motioned for the players to gather. A woman dressed in a dark business suit followed him and stood at his side. She wore a no-nonsense expression.

“Men, we’ve got home field advantage this week. Let’s make it count. Today, we have another reason to win. I’d like to introduce our new co-owner, Mrs. Branscome. She also owns a chain of gyms called Bodies in the Richmond area and is soon to open a couple in Virginia Beach.”

The coach’s speech blurred. Heath’s stomach hollowed. The wife of Jordan’s former lover, Richard. The woman who had crucified her in the media. Christ!

It was as though the air had been sucked from the room.

Dugan elbowed him. “Stop frowning.”

Heath relaxed his face. The sickening in his gut worsened. After team prayer, Heath stalked from the room.

Dugan followed on his heels, their cleats clicking along the hallway. “What’s up with you?”

Heath dared not share his horror. “Just being a pansy about the game.”

“Yeah, right. I’ve known you longer than that. Who’s the woman? And why do you look like you might barf on my shoes?”

“After the game.” Heath stopped with Dugan at the end zone where the team would run onto the field.

In the stands, Jordan waved a red and blue pompom in his direction. For an anti-cheerleader she was in full spirit mode.

Tension drained and he smiled. Tonight, he’d play his best for her.

The Tritons won the coin flip and kick off. Offense took the field. Heath lined up beside the tackle. His vision narrowed to the players across from him.

The quarterback shouted the cadence. At the snap of the ball, Heath rushed to block the opposing linebacker.

Their running back broke past him and picked up several yards before being tackled.

Failing to gain ten yards in the next three plays, the Tritons turned the ball over to the opposing team. Defense collapsed against their strong offense over the next three downs. Fourth and goal, a missed pass in the end zone kept the score zero.

Heath slapped hands with Dugan as he took the field. “Get the ball, boss.”

Dugan nodded and jogged to his position.

On the first snap, Dugan gunned for the Bruins’ quarterback, glancing off the guard. He snagged him by the hips in a perfect sack.

The ball tumbled to the ground. A Triton tackle nabbed the pigskin from the ground and hauled ass for their goal line.

Dugan launched to his feet, pounding the turf, knocking guards along the way, gaining on his teammate with the ball.

The Bruins’ running back reached the interceptor before Dugan could block and dragged him down three yards shy of the goal.

The Triton tackle rolled over, grabbing his knee.

Heath joined his team’s collective groan. The downed player had taken Heath’s defensive spot when they moved him to tight end.

The coach waved Heath over.

* * * *

Thank God it wasn’t Heath. Jordan clapped as Dugan and trainers helped the injured Triton limp from the field. She’d been to enough football games to know the player was done for tonight.

Along the sideline, the coach talked nonstop into Heath’s helmet ear hole. On the next play, Triton offense took the field with Heath at tight end. The quarterback dropped back in the pocket, looked to his left then fired to his right.

Heath charged for the end zone. He glanced back and snagged the ball lofting several feet above his head.

She jumped to her feet screaming his name. She might have missed his touchdown, but she planned being here for the rest.

GiGi elbowed her and winked. “Who’s a cheerleader now?”

She flicked the pompom at GiGi. “Think I’m due to have something to cheer about.”

“That you do, my friend.”

With him playing both offense and defense, the remaining ninety minutes of play flew by. For such a big guy, Heath maneuvered through bodies with grace, but when he hit opposing players he had the brute force of a bulldozer.

The clock ticked down to zero with the Tritons in the lead, twenty-one to thirteen.

“Come on.” GiGi tugged Jordan from the bleachers.

“Where are we going?

“They’ll shower and then talk to the press. I’m sure they’ll want to interview Heath tonight.” GiGi pushed through the crowd.

Photographers, journalists and others with VIP passes filed into a conference area. A side door opened. The coach and several players entered next.

Jordan’s stomach fluttered at the sight of Heath.

His shirt molded around his nearly door-wide shoulders. He and Dugan dwarfed the quarterback.

Women around them, including GiGi, whistled at the players. For the first time, the little gremlin of jealousy hopped on her shoulder. She gritted her teeth and tamped down the jitters in her gut.

Damn it! She shouldn’t care if other women found him attractive. Too late.

Heath surveyed the room like a lion on exhibition, suspicious and wary. A muscle worked in his jaw.

Ever confident, GiGi forged for the front of the crowd, towing Jordan in her wake.

Heath winked.

Her jealousy evaporated.

The coach summarized his take on their win and then proceeded to answer questions. The reporters first turned their attention to the quarterback and then addressed Heath.

“How did it feel out there playing tight end?” A female reporter asked.

“Awesome.” He grinned at Jordan.

“You looked like a natural. So will you be playing tackle now, too?”

He glanced at the coach. “I’m sorry Daniels got hurt. I played his position before they moved me to tight end, so they’ll probably have someone ready by next game. But wherever they need me is where I’ll play.”

Another reporter chimed in. “Well coach, the team has started well for Virginia Beach. What do you think about next week’s game against the Blackhawks?”

Jordan and GiGi left the interview when the players left for the locker room.

Heath might call himself a jock, but he handled the press and their questions with the confidence and skill of a veteran. Whatever had him rattled when he first entered the room seemed to have evaporated.

* * * *

Jordan rode with GiGi to the restaurant where they’d planned to meet the guys.

“Don’t think Heath was too happy at first about being in the media eye.” GiGi parked and grabbed her lipstick from her purse. “But his attitude changed when he saw you, girl.”

“He was probably nervous, and familiar faces helped.”

GiGi painted her lips a frosty pink and smacked them together. “Darling,” she mocked his tone, “wasn’t me he winked at. And when are you going to sleep over at his place? You stayed the weekend with him in the Outer Banks.”

Yes and she’d loved waking up next to him. Maybe too much. Jordan had used Dugan living there as an excuse, but in the last couple of weeks, he’d been staying with GiGi every night. Yet, she refused to stay over with Heath. He never complained but voiced his concern about her driving home late at night.

“It’s casual, G. Let’s not make more to this.” She checked her cell for messages.

“Uh-huh, right.” GiGi shook her long, shimmering locks.

Heath’s black Jeep rolled into the space next to them. He slid out, opened Jordan’s door, wearing a smile that warmed her like sunshine.

And when his warming light moved out of her life, what then?

* * * *

Heath extended his hand, helping Jordan from the car. Thank God, the Branscome woman didn’t show up at the media interview.

She hugged him and patted his rear. “Awesome game, Mr. Tight End.”

Exhaustion and the hits were all worthwhile. He wasn’t going to let the bitch from Bodies ruin his night. Cupping her chin, he stole a quick kiss. “Thanks darlin’.”

“You can do better.” She swept a hand around his neck and molded her lips against his.

He feathered his tongue along the seam of her mouth taking his time.

“Better,” she said with a glimmer in her eyes.

Maybe she’d finally sleep over tonight.

They followed Dugan and GiGi into the restaurant, where a server led them to a large booth. Heath hadn’t picked up his menu when a boy with large brown eyes stopped in front of their table.

He curbed a smile as the little guy held up a program from the game. “Could I get your autograph, Mr. Lancaster?”

“Sure.” Heath took the pen handed him and signed under his picture. “Did you like the game?”

His fan grinned from ear to ear, emphasizing his missing front teeth.

“Will you come back week after next when we’re playing at home again?” Heath returned the autographed program.

“Yes, sir. We have season tickets.”

Jordan stroked his shoulder as his first true fan walked away. “Aww, that was so sweet,” she cooed with GiGi joining in.

Dugan squinted at him. “Aww, Mr. Tight End, you’re so cute.” Then he pretended to barf.

“Don’t worry, bro, your fans will be along as soon as they’re sober enough to drive.”

“At least they’re old enough to drive.” Dugan finished by blowing his straw paper at Heath.

GiGi rolled her eyes. “Are you even old enough to drive?”

A dirty smile creased Dugan’s face. “Baby, my driving has you screaming to the top of your lungs.”

She turned three shades of red. “I concede.”

“You’re about the same shade Heath was when our owner showed her face in the locker room before the game.”

Heath shot a daggered stare at his friend.

“Were you naked?” Jordan snickered.

“In my compression shorts,” he lied, frowning another warning at Dugan. He hadn’t had a chance to explain why he didn’t want Jordan to know about their owner. At least, not yet. Heath excused himself for the men’s room, hoping to avoid further comments on the topic.

He wound his way through the bar area and had almost reached the restroom when someone caught his arm. He glanced over his shoulder into GiGi’s concerned face and stopped.

“What’s going on?” Petite compared to Jordan, Gigi scowled with a menace that brooked no argument.

He tugged her to a secluded table in the corner. “I need your advice.”

She sat on the bar-style chair with her posture rigid. “On what?”

Should he confide in GiGi? At this point he didn’t have much choice. “I didn’t know this until today, okay?”

She nodded, crossing her arms. “Let me guess, your old girlfriend followed you here?”

“No.”

“Whatever it is don’t hurt Jordan.” She ran her thumb over the sharp tips of her nails.

“I’m trying to keep from hurting her, GiGi. The team met the new co-owner of the Tritons today. She’s Branscome’s ex-wife.”

Her eyes rounded. “What? You’re shitting me.”

“Jordan’s going to dump me like the plague.”

GiGi slumped in her seat and picked at her manicure. “Damn. What are the odds she’ll find out?”

Heath rubbed his temples at the impending headache. “Are you suggesting I not say anything?”

She arched a brow.

“If she doesn’t come to the press area or locker room, it’s highly unlikely.” A lie or just an omission?

She frowned. “I dragged her there. Sorry.”

“You really think I shouldn’t mention it?” GiGi knew her best. She wouldn’t steer him wrong. He didn’t like keeping secrets, but he’d be willing to save her from hurt.

“Not if you want things to continue.” She sighed. “I’ll be honest. I’ve never seen her so happy. You know she completely forgot about the cruise because of you.”

“She’s very special to me, G.” He hadn’t even told Dugan how he felt.

She grinned. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t get near the press area or the locker rooms.”

When he returned, an iced mug of beer graced his spot at the table. He downed it. The slight buzz made him forget his dilemma while they ate dinner.

“Do you want some dessert?” Jordan plucked the menu from the condiment holder and winked. “Not sure where you’d put it.”

He’d demolished a large plate of ribs and all the sides. “Sorry, I’m starved after a game.”

“Hope you still have room for something sweet.”

A cute ploy he was all over. “You’re all the sweet I want right now.”

* * * *

After dinner, Heath stopped Jordan at the stadium to get her car. While she followed him to the beach house, he relaxed. The talk with GiGi gave him a better outlook. And with Dugan staying at GiGi’s tonight, he might finally be able to persuade Jordan to sleep over.

When they arrived at the house, he handed her the key. “Be up in a second, I’m turning on the hot tub.”

“Sounds good.” She smiled. “I’ll fix some drinks.”

Secluded beneath the house and screened by lattice panels, it was private enough for some adult fun. He flipped back the cover, checked the temperature and started the jets.

Inside, two freshly made whiskies sat on the bar. The woman who fired his jets rounded the corner in a skimpy, red bikini. In her right hand, she waved her game pompom.