Hard Tackle (A Stepbrother Warriors Novel) (10 page)

Chapter Nineteen

I know it's wrong to have sex with Jack under somewhat false
pretenses, but I also know that I'm ready. Really ready. The feeling causing
the butterflies in my stomach isn't nerves, but excitement. And maybe a tinge
of guilt.

If Jack knows that I broke up with Miles he'll feel more
pressure and worry about me getting attached to
him
. I can't say that's
a completely unfounded worry, because the truth is that I am attached. Maybe it
was inevitable, I don't know. But I'm one hundred percent sure that Jack is who
I want to have my first time with, and I'm worried if I tell him the truth
about Miles, it will never happen. It's also true that I could wait until I
find someone else, someone who's not Jack or Miles, but patience has never been
a virtue of mine, and somewhere deep down, this moment just feels right.

I shave my legs, and everything else, with extra care,
taking the time to luxuriate under the hot water of my shower. It's not like I
think losing my virginity is going to be some magical experience and the
heavens will open up to a choir of angels, but it does feel like a special
night. A girl only loses her virginity once. Not to mention the fact that I've
thoroughly enjoyed everything that Jack and I have done together thus far, or
that he has done to me, and I imagine sex will trump even those delightful
experiences.

After I dry off, I pull on a t-shirt and a pair of cotton
pajama pants, leaving my hair damp and trailing down my back. I close my door
behind me as I step into the hall, and creep down towards the third floor
stairwell. I tiptoe up the stairs and then to Jack's door. I knock softly and
let myself in without waiting for him to reply.

He's standing by the bed with all the lights off in the room
except one small bedside lamp. He looks up as I enter and reaches forward with
one hand to smooth a towel over the bed.

"What's that for?" I ask as I shut the door behind
me.

"Well, you're so little, and I'm so big…" he
trails off as he walks around the bed, meeting me at the foot.

"Oh, I'm going to bleed aren't I?" I realize.

"Maybe," he concedes. "But we'll go really
slow. You sure about this?"

"I'm sure, and stop asking me," I say with a
smile, wrapping my arms around his waist. He reaches down to pick me up,
bringing me to his lips. My body shivers with pleasure in a way it never did
with Miles, and I know I'm making the right decision. He turns around and walks
me back to the side of the bed. With one hand behind the back of my head and
the other around my waist, he lays me gently on the bed, then slips down next
to me.

His other hand spreads under my t-shirt and across my
stomach. I smile as his fingers brush against a slightly ticklish spot on my
side, and reach down to the hem of his shirt. He reaches up one arm so I can
pull it off, then shifts his weight so he can take it off the other. Then he
reciprocates, reaching for the bottom of my shirt and pulling it off over my
head. I let my head sink down onto the pillow under it as he bends his head
down, covering my right nipple with his mouth. I gasp at the warm, tingling
sensation as he sucks and kneads it with his tongue. My mind jumps to wondering
about what will happen later, and I pull it back to the present moment.

He moves his mouth to my other breast and his hand to the
one his mouth just vacated. I arch my back, pressing my breast into his warm,
calloused palm. I reach up and spread my hands across his back, feeling his
muscles ripple over his wide ribcage. I press one up over his shoulder and then
across to his neck, trailing my finger into his short hair.

His head begins to move down, out of my reach, as he
alternately licks and kisses down my stomach. His fingers curl around the top
of my pants and he tugs them slowly down, his mouth following the trail of
exposed skin. Just before he reaches my mound, his mouth pulls away, and I feel
him slip my pants off my feet and toss them to the floor. I feel his breath on
my inner thigh as he presses my knees apart.

He takes a long, slow lick of my opening that ends with a
soft flick of my clit. I moan and my fingers grasp for something to hold onto,
and find the towel at my sides. He sucks on my clit and then flicks his tongue
back and forth across me. The sweet sense of pleasure that builds up inside me
is tinged with anticipation of what's going to happen next.

He shifts his body ninety degrees to get a different angle
on me, and I slide my hand over his stomach as his mouth is still buried
against me. My body jolts with every movement of his tongue, but I manage to
hold my concentration enough to pull his sweats down around his hips. I wrap my
hand around his cock, feeling the veins cross under my fingertips, and then the
soft skin of his tip. I run my hand up and down it, knowing that soon this
throbbing member will be inside me.

I begin to stiffen as an orgasm builds, but just as it's
about to burst forth, Jack pulls his mouth away. My eyes flutter open and see
him reaching toward the bedside table and pushing his pants all the way off. I
feel my first flutter of nerves as I watch him rip the condom packet open and
roll it down his cock.

He smiles at me when he notices me watching, then turns and
carefully lays down on top of me, resting some of his considerable body weight
on his elbows. He softly kisses my cheek and then works his way over to my ear,
biting the lobe as I feel his right hand wrap around my knee and pull it waist
high. He releases my leg and I keep it where he has positioned it. He reaches
down again and I feel his cock slide down my wet clit and then stop over my
opening.

His lips return to mine and my eyes open. He's looking down
at me with an intensity I've never seen before. I feel transfixed by his gaze.

My mouth opens with a gasp as he
thrusts inside me. The pain is far more intense than I imagined, and he freezes
immediately, probably only an inch into his progress.

"Sorry," I whisper.

"Don't apologize," he
says with a smile. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No."

"OK, then take some deep
breaths. We'll take it as slow as we need to," he murmurs, and takes my
arms and places them around his neck. I follow his instruction, taking a deep
sip of air through my mouth, and after a couple breaths, I feel the muscles
between my hips relax and the pain subside.

After another moment, I feel him
begin to move again. My eyes are closed, but I can feel him watching me. He
only makes it another inch or so before I tense up again. I take a deep breath
and move my other leg up on the towel. That position helps a bit, and he begins
to move again.

My brain feels like it's
overwhelmed with all the new sensations I'm feeling. Pain, excitement,
pleasure, and a sense of extreme fullness that I've never experienced before. I
feel him stop and glance up at him questioningly.

"I'm all the way in," he
explains, and gently circles his hips to demonstrate.

"Oh!" I breathe, as my
attention is immediately drawn downward.

"How does it feel?"

"Well, it hurts," I
answer honestly. "And it stings, actually. But I like it. Keep going."

He gently begins to pull out, and
for the first time I feel an ache that has nothing to do with pain, but is instead
a longing for him to return. I feel just his tip inside me, and then he begins
to move back in. The pain returns, but a bit less this time. When he is all the
way in again, I smile at him, and he pulls back out, then thrusts in a little
faster.

"Again?" he asks, pausing
to look down at me.

"Yes, please," I reply,
feeling breathless. "I'm beginning to see why you like doing this so much."
He grins, and pulls back out. With his next thrust, he curls his hips upward
slightly at the end, and I gasp as his tip hits directly against my g-spot.

I wrap my arms more tightly around
his neck, and he lowers his mouth to mine. Or lips open to each other as his
hips pull back and press in again. I can feel my entire body shaking as the
pain begins to fall away, replaced with quivering desire.

"Faster," I urge him, and
he complies, grunting as he presses back inside me. I cry out with pleasure and
he thrusts again. Our mouths find each other and we hungrily press our tongues
against each other as our bodies find a rhythm. My moans of pleasure are
swallowed in his mouth as an all-consuming orgasm builds inside me. I feel less
in control than I ever have before, as my body begins to shake and spasm of its
own accord, with Jack driving me on.

My head tilts back and away as I
cry out in an agony of pleasure. I hear Jack grunting on top of me, a deep
sound that comes from the base of his chest. My legs twitch softly as he slows
down and finally stills. I gasp for air, and feel sweat running down my cheeks
and mingling with his.

Finally, he pulls his head up and
places a soft kiss on my lips, then slowly rolls over onto his side. He reaches
up to my face and turns it toward his. His eyes probe mine.

"You alright?" he asks,
pushing a strand of sweaty hair out of my eyes.

"More than," I reply with
a smile. "That was…" I trail off, needing time to process the
experience. "I'm exhausted."

He stands up and pulls the condom
off, tossing it into the trash. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Chapter Twenty

I press against Jack to keep warm as we wait for the bathtub
to fill with water. He wraps his arms around me and rests his chin on the top
of my head. He releases me to step forward and shut the water off, then steps
inside the huge Jacuzzi tub and offers me his hand.

I take it and step up and into the
water. It's the perfect temperature, and we sink down into it together. He
stretches his legs out on either side of me, and I lean back into him, nestling
against his chest.

I feel a soreness and stinging
between my legs as the water swishes around me, but it's not uncomfortable. I
actually feel completely at peace. I wonder briefly if Jack takes a bath with
all the girls he sleeps with, if this is just part of his pattern, but I push
the thought out of my mind. I feel him shift under me, and he takes a washcloth
from a silver hook. He presses it down into the water, then slowly rubs it up
and over my shoulders. He continues down my right arm, and a contented smile
spreads across my face.

I must have fallen asleep, because
the next thing I know I'm being wrapped in a robe and carried back to bed. I
watch Jack pull the towel off the bed, a small spot of blood visible on it,
before he pulls the covers back and places me down into it. I feel the mattress
depress as he sinks down next to me, and I curl up against him, hooking my leg
over one of his.

I don't wake up again until the
morning light is shining through the gauzy curtains. I begin to sit up and then
freeze, remembering that for the first time, I'm waking up next to someone
else. Whenever Jack and I have hooked up previously, I always leave his room
right after. I let my head fall back against my pillow, and look over at him.

He's lying on his back, one arm
flung carelessly over his head. He breathes through his nose, and his left eye
twitches slightly. I wonder if he's dreaming, and what he's dreaming about. I
know I should get up and go back to my own room. Ray wakes up early, and I
can't imagine what would happen if I ran into him in the hallway.

But I don't want to leave. I want
to wake up with Jack and spend the whole day with him, and then come back to
this bed in the evening. I want to learn every inch of his body, and I want him
to learn mine.

He must have seen I was asleep last
night and he didn't wake me up to tell me to leave. Doesn't that mean
something? He
wanted
me to stay the night.

Reluctantly, I ease out of the warm
bed, knowing that I have to avoid Ray. I stare at Jack for a moment as I stand
next to the bed in the robe he dressed me in. He looks so peaceful. He's really
quite funny, and smart, much smarter than I thought he would be. He makes me
take things less seriously, and knows how to get me out of my head. I just feel
safe around him.

I blanch, and hurriedly begin to
get dressed. I creep toward the door, and don't look back as I quietly shut it
behind me. I fly down the steps, pausing at the second floor to look around for
Ray. He's nowhere in sight, so I hustle down to my room and jump into bed,
pulling the covers up to my chin.

These…feelings, yes, feelings, I
have for Jack…they scare me. From the beginning, he warned me against them, and
I thought he was being arrogant. Maybe it was me who was being arrogant,
thinking I could have a physical relationship with him without developing an
emotional attachment. But I don't think that the way I feel can be explained
away through post-coital chemical releases clouding up my brain. Maybe the
physical stuff made me get attached faster, but I think it would have happened
anyway, just through spending time together. Though I have to admit that I also
love the way he treats me in bed…thoughtful, tender, but rough when I want him
to be.

Also
love.
Also love
…No.
No, no, no, Bree. Oh god, have I let myself fall in love with Jack?

I raise my head and begin to slam
it back on the pillow. Stupid. So stupid. And hopeless. He made it so clear
that there would never be any chance of us having a relationship, and now here
I am pining away for him. I wish I could be angry at him, but he asked me again
and again if I was sure I wanted to keep going, and I kept reassuring him that
I was fine.

I'm tired, but there's no hope of
me falling asleep. I can vaguely hear the rest of the house waking up, but I
stay safely ensconced in my bed, staring at the ceiling as I think about what
I've gotten myself into.

It's only a matter of time before
he brings another girl home, and then I'll have to sit here alone in my room
pretending it doesn't bother me. When the football season starts, he'll move
back to his penthouse and bring the women there, but maybe that will be even
worse because I'll probably never see him at all.

The wise thing to do would be to
stop sleeping with him immediately. Cut off contact and only see him when
absolutely necessary, but I can feel my body begin to rebel at the very
thought. I've only gotten to have sex with him once, and it was…indescribable,
really. And if I'm already in love with him, then what's the harm in
continuing? I could have the heartbreak now and have no more great sex, or I
could have the heartbreak later and lots of great sex in the meantime.

The main difficulty will be in
continuing to act normally around him. I can't start fawning over him or his
defenses will go up and he'll break everything off. I don't want to keep up the
charade of dating Miles, but it will help. Jack will think my real affections
lie elsewhere and we're just a fun fling. Then, in a couple months, sometime
after the football season starts, I'll say that Miles and I broke up. It won't
matter then, anyway. Jack will be on the road and probably with a different
woman in every city.

My heart contracts at the thought,
but I swing my legs out of bed, feeling resolved. I've got two months with Jack
before then, so I should make the best of it.

I leave the robe hanging on the
door of the bathroom, and brush my teeth, humming to myself. If I don't think
about the fact that this relationship, or whatever it is, has an expiration
date, I can actually enjoy this feeling. Love. So this is what it feels like. I
bounce back into my bedroom and pull on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. I'm
about to head downstairs when I spot my computer sitting on my desk.

I haven't written for a while
because I couldn't think of what should happen next in my story, but all of a
sudden my head is flooded with images. I sit down and snap open my laptop, quickly
pull up the file, and begin typing. I lose track of time, something that only
happens to me when the critic in my head really shuts up. When I finally look
at the clock, almost two hours have passed, and my stomach is rumbling.

I press save and then head for the
door, hurrying down to the kitchen in search of food. I don't spot Jack until
I'm halfway to the pantry, and the sight of him, shirtless, almost stops me in
my tracks, but I press on, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Where've you been?" he
asks, scrolling on his phone, his long limbs stretched out on two chairs by the
breakfast table. "I've already had one workout and a shower."

"Writing, actually," I
reply proudly. "I was feeling—well, like I knew what to write." I
almost said "inspired," but I thought that might sound too
emotionally heavy, even though it's true. I've always heard that artists can
experience a rush of creativity when they fall in love, but I've never
experienced it for myself.

"You've never told me what
your book's about," he comments, eyeing me above the screen.

"It's about a girl who begins
to exhibit strange powers after she's stuck in a lightning storm," I say
matter-of-factly. "Do you think that's silly?" I ask, feeling
suddenly self-conscious. Usually I never talk about what I'm working on until
I'm done, because even a single critical word can put me off the project
altogether.

"No. I love lightning."

"Me, too. It's sort of got a
gothic tone to it, and the girl ends up running away, because her father is
trying to exploit her powers."

"Daddy issues, huh? Wonder
where you got that…" he says with a smile.

"Oh, boy, you gonna analyze me
now?" I ask, rolling my eyes as I pour myself a huge bowl of cereal.

"I would never attempt to
figure out what dark mysteries are going on up there," he says, pointing
to my head. "Hungry?" he asks, with a naughty smile as I pull out a
chair to eat.

"I managed to burn off some
calories last night," I reply with a straight face.

"Oh? Cardio?"

"Well, my heartbeat was certainly elevated."

"A proper amount of cardio is very important. I tell
you that as a professional athlete," he says, his eyes twinkling. I
shiver. His posture is so relaxed, but I can tell by his energy that he could
pounce at any second.

"True," I reply. "But then again, it's also
important not to overdo it. I'm sure you know that, as a professional
athlete." Nothing would please me more than some immediate cardio, but I
don't want to show my hand.

"Also true," he concedes. "But there's
nothing worse than getting rusty and out of practice. That's the fastest way to
lose your spot to a second-stringer." My eyes narrow and I kick his leg
under the table. "Joking! Joking," he says, raising his hands in a
gesture of mercy. "You have plans with Miles today?"

"Um, no. He has to work," I lie, trying to sound
disappointed.

"Want to take out the yacht?" he asks, nodding
toward the giant boat docked at the private dock.

"Do I want to 'take it out'? You know how to drive that
thing?"

"Sure. It's not hard, really. The difficult thing is
reading the map, knowing where the channels are."

"You have fishing rods?" I ask hopefully.

"There should be some in the boat house. You
fish?" he asks, sounding surprised.

"Yeah, Carter taught me."

"Good. Maybe you can catch us some dinner, start
earning your keep around here." He flinches as I kick him again.