Line of Scrimmage (22 page)

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Authors: Desiree Holt

BOOK: Line of Scrimmage
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“Honestly?”

He nodded.

“Isn’t it kind of designated behavior in football?” She couldn’t help asking.

“For some people. But not everyone. There are guys who never mix it up with the groupies, and for very good reasons.” He gave her a pointed stare. “And believe me, I know all those reasons.”

“Why?” she asked. “Because you’ve been there, done that?”

He shook his head. “Because I never wanted to be there, but I saw plenty who did. I had goals to achieve; I was focused. I had a life plan, so to speak. When I was drafted by the Mustangs, I thought I’d won the jackpot. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, if Ivy’s said anything, but it was just the two of us and our mom since I entered high school.”

“No.” She shook her head. “She never has. But, well, where was your dad? Had he passed away?”

Jake’s face hardened and something bad flashed in his eyes. “Not in the picture. Let’s leave it at that.”

What was that all about? “Okay,” she prodded. “Continue.”

“I saw what irresponsible behavior did to others. Hell, you can read about it all the time. It wasn’t for me. For one thing, these females go from guy to guy, sometimes more than one at a time. You never know who’s clean or not, and what’s gonna be carried back to you.” He chuffed a laugh. “This will sound strange, but my mom gave me a big lecture about it.”

“And you listened to your mother?”

A sad look flashed in Jake’s eyes. “My mother was an incredible woman. I respected her more than almost any other woman on earth. I didn’t want to embarrass or disappoint her. Besides, she made good sense.”

Erin couldn’t squelch her curiosity. “You speak of her in the past tense. Come to think of it, so does Ivy, although she always mentions little things about her.”

“She passed away three years ago. Cancer.”

Sympathy bubbled up inside her. “Oh, Jake, I’m so sorry.”

“The people Ivy and I are today is because of her.” He was silent for a long moment, and then he looked straight at her. “Have I been with other women? I’m not a monk or a saint, just damn discriminating.”

Erin hated what she said next, but the words just seemed to drop out of her mouth. “It didn’t take much for you to come home with me. So what does that make me, anyway?” Thank you, Trace, for the damaged self-confidence.

He leaned forward as much as he could, lifted one of her hands from her lap, and held it in both of his. “It makes you a very special person, someone I wanted to be with right away. A lot.”

She wanted to pull her hand away, but it felt so good cradled in his warm ones. And she really did want to believe every single word he said. To trust that he was different than Trace and all the other jocks still playing in the field of groupies. She had promised to try, even though since Trace that kind of trust came very hard to her.

He waited, and when she didn’t comment he said, “Well? Don’t you believe me?”

“I want to. And—okay, I’m giving it my best shot. But let’s take care of the immediate problem first. If those two idiots showed up, what’s to say no one else will?”

He drew his brows together. “Nothing I suppose.”

“Okay. I’ll call Scott as soon as we’re finished here and put him on it. I’m sure having Eye Candy Mandys all over the place isn’t what he wants for your image.”

“Damn straight.”

She took a sip of her beer. “I also think we need to chat about having dinner with Shay and Joe.”

Jake picked up his bottle of beer and drained the last of it. Erin caught herself watching the flex of muscles in his neck as he swallowed, the sensuous play of them beneath the skin just showing a late day scruff.

“And
I
think I’m going to lie down.” He gave her a slow grin. “If you want to talk, I’ll be in the bedroom, waiting.”

Heat flashed over Erin, searing her nerve endings. She got the distinct feeling he had more in mind for the bedroom than just lying down, and anticipation wiggled through her body. Could she resist him? Did she even want to at this point? Hadn’t he just proved to her that he wasn’t at all what she thought he was?

She pushed away from the table and stood up, gathering the empty beer bottles. “Do you need help getting to the bedroom?”

He gave her a slow grin. “I’d love to say yes, but I think you need to make those phone calls. I can manage to clump my way in there.”

Still, she waited until he heaved himself to an upright position, gathered the crutches and stuck them under his arms, and began to maneuver his way off the patio. Erin opened the sliding door for him, and when he was safely inside, headed for the kitchen. After tossing the bottles in the recycle bin, she dug Jake’s cell out of her pocket and began punching numbers.

She could tell Scott Manchin was pissed at the incident.

“I’ll fix it,” he told her, not one bit of humor in his voice. “Some of my clients roll in that stuff, but thankfully Jake never did. Could be one of his idiotic teammates thought they’d send him a present.”

“That’s what he said,” she told him.

“He’s right. I’ll get on this, and come by and see him tomorrow.” His voice softened slightly. “Besides, I want to meet the woman who can handle taking care of the grizzly.”

“The grizzly?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “When Jake gets irritated, he’s like a bear with a sore paw. Anyway, don’t worry, either of you. I’ll put a stop to any more of this.”

His words made her feel better, but still…

He let her know he’d call the security company and get them out there at the crack of dawn to beef things up. He thanked her for calling, told her he’d just arrived in Austin, and repeated that seeing Jake was high on his list, so she could look for him sometime tomorrow. He’d call before he arrived.

After she hung up, she stuck the phone back in her pocket, let out a slow breath, and headed for Jake’s bedroom. Butterflies beat a rapid tattoo with their wings in her tummy and moisture flooded her panties. The pulsing in her pussy spread to every erogenous zone in her body. All her receptors told her Jake wasn’t lying down because he was tired. She was sure what he wanted to do had no relationship to another getting-to-know-you talk.

Besides the signals her erotic dreams were sending her, every hot detail of the other night kept replaying in her head. The sex might have been awkward, but it was no less enjoyable because of it. Wait. Enjoyable didn’t begin to describe how she’d felt.

Should she stop trying to ignore what was happening, or on the verge of happening? No matter what her opinion of football players in general, the intense physical attraction between her and Jake Russell had electrified the air right from the beginning. She’d be lying through her teeth if she denied that her desire for him, practically a craving, was escalating almost daily, despite her determination and best intention.

Well then, if acting on that attraction again was what he had in mind right now, maybe they had danced around this long enough. Maybe it was time to just go for it and get it out of her system once and for all. Kind of like overeating so you could start a new diet.

Yeah. Like that was going to happen.

 

 

Chapter 12

 

Jake watched Erin walk into the room, her attitude signaling a mixture of desire and trepidation. Days ago, when his anger had finally settled down and the pain in his leg had died to a faint, dull ache, he’d spent time plotting how to move things forward with her. The invisible line of scrimmage was a barrier, and he needed to find a way to snap the ball and initiate the play.

The chemistry between them was so damn intense it practically lit up any room they were in together, especially after their one clumsy attempt the other night to satisfy it. It had been there from the beginning and nothing had happened since then to change that.

Now, however, he realized his sister might have known all along what she was doing. Maybe she’d seen a spark that night at the party. Maybe—who the hell knew what. But she was always on some kind of mission where he was concerned.

He still had no idea what had gone wrong the night he and Erin spent together, or even what was behind her attitude toward him. Try as he might he couldn’t get anything out of her except her standard “hate jocks” line. But now they’d circled around this, tested the waters, and silently seemed to agree that they needed to get it out of their systems or see if it moved them forward. When he’d told her he was going to lie down and she said she’d see him in his bedroom, something had snapped and ignited in her eyes. A spark that he hoped had been simmering in there all this time.

He hoped. Damn, how he hoped. His avid gaze took her in as she walked toward him.

God, she was so damn hot. He wanted her now. Right here.

Okay, spark, here comes the lighter.

“You’re still sitting up,” Erin commented as she came close to the bed. She swiped her tongue slowly against her lower lip, making his balls tighten in reaction. “I thought you wanted to lie down.”

He pointed to the crutches leaning against the nightstand. “That’s as far as I got. I need help getting the shoe off.” He winked at her, casual, although he had to admit he was a little nervous. “And maybe the same with the clothes.”

A hint of a grin teased at her lips. “You want me to help you undress?”

“If you think you’re up to the task.”

She creased her forehead in a mock scowl, but he saw amusement dancing in her eyes. “Are you planning any funny stuff here, Mr. Russell?”

“And if I was?” he asked in a low voice.

The look she gave him was so intense he felt it clear to the core of him. All her questions and doubts and reservations were clear as crystal in her eyes. Jake waited for a long moment for her to decide what to do next, holding his breath. He saw the moment she made her decision and gave in to the situation. When she spoke, her voice was soft, like a caress.

“Then maybe I can just take care of this for you.”

He cupped her chin and scanned her face, looking for any last vestige of doubts, but finding none there. “I wish you would.”

She knelt down and removed his single shoe, and placed it carefully to the side. Catching her bottom lip between her even white teeth, she unbuckled his belt, drew it through the loops, and placed it next to the shoe. Next came the snap on his shorts and a fumbling tug on the zipper of his fly. Her fingers brushed against the burgeoning thickness of his cock, and heat zipped through his veins.

“I think we need to do the shirt first,” she decided.

He groaned, wanting his cock free and her hands on it.

He’d put on a soft collar shirt for his meeting with Joe, rather than his usual tee shirt. Now he pulled it over his head and tossed it to the other side of the bed. Deliberately he leaned back on his elbows, legs hanging over the side, waiting for her next move. She swallowed hard, throat muscles flexing, but forged ahead, tugging down the zipper the rest of the way. He had to grit his teeth at the touch of her slim fingers on him but he managed.

“Can you lift up your hips?” She asked the question without looking at him.

“Like this?” Careful with his injured leg, he braced himself up enough that she could pull the khaki shorts free. She was careful sliding them down over the cast, then added them to everything else on the floor. He waited to see what she’d do next.

“Um, are we leaving the boxers on?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” He grinned. “You tell me.”

He watched her gaze at his groin for a long time, fixated on the heavy thickness of his cock. Then she slowly maneuvered the boxers down over his hips, waiting while he pushed his butt off the bed just enough so she could pull them down farther. Again she was careful moving the fabric over his cast.

Then she just knelt there between his legs and stared for a long moment at his shaft. She reached out a hand that shook just slightly and wrapped her fingers around it, her eyes bright with desire. Oh, yeah, that’s the look he wanted. She slipped her hand up and down the length of him once, slowly, and he held his breath, waiting to see if she stopped. She stroked him again and again. When she slid a hand between his thighs and lightly cupped his balls, he groaned at the pleasure of it.

Jesus!

He threaded his fingers in her hair, tugging it back from her face so he could lock his gaze with hers.

“Much more of that and this party will be over before it starts. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, sugar. I want to take it slow.”

She gave him a saucy grin. “Think we can figure out what to do about the cast this time?”

“Maybe. I’ll give it some serious thought.” He stroked a finger down the satiny skin of her neck, stopping at the hollow where her pulse beat wildly, and couldn’t help licking his lips. “I, uh, think one of us has too many clothes on.”

“Really? What do you think I should do about it?”

“How about getting rid of yours so I can see every inch of that sexy body?”

Again he waited, watching her for any clues or signals. When she rose to her feet, backed away a couple of steps, and pulled the hem of her blouse from the waistband of her jeans, he let himself breathe again. She was going to do it! Would it be like his dream? Better? Automatically he reached his hand out for his cock, lazily stroking it as he stared at Erin.

Her lips curved in a knowing, sensual smile as she slowly popped each of the buttons on her blouse. Just watching the simple act of her shrugging the fabric down her arms and off made him harden even more. The creamy mounds of her breasts were restrained only by a confection of lavender and lace that cupped them the way his hands itched to. Erin stood there, chin lifted slightly, the hint of a come hither smile on her lips, as she released the clasp and those luscious breasts sprang free.

They were even more beautiful than he remembered, from either the dreams or their last abortive attempt to have sex. The nipples that topped them looked like dollops of pale chocolate frosting. He wanted to draw them into his mouth and suck on them until they were hard as candy and their sweetness coated his tongue.

She tossed the bra aside, stepped out of her shoes, and eased down the zipper of her slacks, the hiss of it loud in the room. She kept her eyes on his face the entire time she slithered out of the garment. The pulse at her throat was beating so hard he could see it against the delicate skin. His own pulse had ratcheted up so his entire body throbbed with it.

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