Play Date (Play Makers Book 3) (19 page)

“Hey, teach,” he mumbled. Then he pulled her against himself and made love to her. Didn’t bang her. Didn’t even try. He just lavished praise and caresses in sleepy, solemn adoration. And Rachel responded by exploring his body with her hands and mouth, knowing he was too comatose to take unfair advantage. And for the first time, when they climaxed together, it was simply heaven.

Wow,
she told herself in awed delight.
Good thing you didn’t kick him out last night
.

She had no idea if they could keep this up for another six weeks, but she wouldn’t have missed it. Not for anything.

After that, everything changed. She had never seen him on a schedule before and was grudgingly impressed. True, he was still playful, but he showered alone, and the next time she saw him, was fully clothed in khakis and a clean polo shirt, ready for business, his suitcase packed, his gym bag at the ready.

They ate quiche, which he must have liked since he devoured three-fourths of it. Then he pushed back his chair and asked gruffly, “You’re sure you’re okay with the hellhounds?”

“I know all their tricks. And a few of my own.”

He nodded and stood up. “I’ll get going, then.”

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

He surprised her by shaking his head. “The neighbors might see you. I’ll just make a quick escape.”

“Oh,” she murmured. “Okay.”

“Come here.” He pulled her close, then kissed her warmly. “Next Friday, right?”

“Next Friday,” she agreed.

“I’d stay,” he insisted stubbornly, “but I’m meeting Deck for some informal scouting. A wideout who looked great at pro day. It’s important.”

She didn’t understand a word he had just said, other than Sean’s name, but she appreciated the effort. “So it’s football stuff?”

“Yeah. The big dog usually handles it, but he’s off banging Erica, so we’re elected.”

“The big dog is John Spurling? And scouting means you’re auditioning a new player? Shouldn’t your coach do that?”

“He’s a dick. So John handles it under the radar.”

She sighed, remembering all the bad things Kerrie had told her about Coz. A dick for sure.

On the other hand, she knew Sophie’s fiancé, Jake Dublin, was an assistant coach for the LA Rustlers. Didn’t the Lancers have those too?

So she asked curiously, “Aren’t there assistant coaches who can do it?”

He stared at her, understandably confused. “If you don’t want me to go—”

“No, no. It’s not that. It just seems unfair that Johnny gets stuck with all these duties on top of being quarterback, which is so demanding on its own.”

Bannerman chuckled.
“My
job is demanding. His is glamorous. And yeah, the other coaches should pitch in. But most of them have been beaten down by the asshole. And the others—the ones Coz handpicked—aren’t worth shit. It’s for the best.” His tone softened. “Deck can handle it, though. So if you need me on demon patrol . . .”

“Don’t be silly. Go and have fun.” She smiled. “Is it all work, no play?”

“Hell, no. We’ll tear the place up tonight. Deck knows Philly inside and out.”

“Really? What will you guys do?”

“You don’t want to know,” he said with a wink.

She tried not to react, even though she felt like an idiot. Asking what this sexy—not to mention famous—stud planned on doing in a town known for its football? Was she high, or just stupid?

“Well, have fun,” she told him casually.

“We will.”

Lovely.

His eyes were teasing her—laughing at her, really—and she needed to make it stop. So she rustled up her best change of subject. “I have good news. I started on birth control pills this week, so no more pregnancy scares for us.”

“Huh?”

“They’ll be effective by your next visit, so it won’t be an issue anymore.”

His expression morphed into something borderline angelic. “We can do it bareback?”

“What?”

“You should have told me last night.” He pulled her close, his eyes sparkling. “Let’s go back to bed. Deck can handle Philly on his own.”

“Are you crazy?” She pulled free, laughing nervously. But as much as she regretted the apparent misdirection, she couldn’t feel too guilty. Because he had tweaked her about his wild night in Philadelphia, and somehow, she had accidentally tweaked him back.

Fighting him off, she insisted, “It doesn’t take effect until next week. And just for purposes of pregnancy. We still need condoms. Because of diseases. Infections. Whatever.”

“I’m clean, Rachel. I swear it.” He was practically sweating bullets. “Man, just when I thought you couldn’t get any better.”

“Cut it out.” She shook her head in warning. “It’s not even an option.”

“Right. Because it’s mandatory,” he agreed, his blue eyes shining even brighter.

“You’re going to miss your flight. For nothing. Because it isn’t happening. Not today. Not next week.”

“I can pass any test, baby. That’s the truth.” His tone turned suspiciously mature. “I like banging. But I like myself better. I don’t have unprotected sex. Not ever.”

“Good. I feel the same way.”

He flashed a seductive smile. “You’ll love it, Rachel. It feels awesome. And for you especially because you’re so damned wet.” Moving his mouth to her ear, he insisted, “You’re the most beautiful girl I ever saw. That sounds like a line, right? But it’s not. You’re beautiful and soft and you smell amazing.” He moved in closer. “What kind of flowers do you want? Roses, right?”

For the first time during this visit, she actually dissolved into laughter against his chest, just the way she had at the wedding. “Stop it. You’re being so—so hilarious.” Tears poured down her cheeks. “You need to go. And stop thinking about this.”

“But we’re on for next week, right? Au naturel?”

“Oh, my God.” She backed away, still laughing. “Just go. Have fun with Sean.”

“Can I kiss you good-bye?”

“No, but I can kiss you.” She sandwiched his handsome, hopeful face between her hands and kissed him with exuberance. “Now go.”

He grinned, so boyish he might as well have been a horny teenager. “It’s gonna be epic, I promise.”

She glared, and he seemed to get the message because he grabbed both bags, shot her a final adoring look, and headed out the door.

• • •

For all the fun she had had with him, this was the best. Only Bam Bannerman could insist with one breath that he
always
used protection, then in the next moment personally attest to the fact that “bareback” felt awesome.

He’s a force of nature,
she reminded herself, exhausted and content.
So just go with it. Use a condom—obviously. But find something else to inspire him. Because when he’s inspired, you are too.

As ridiculous as it seemed, she no longer felt jealous about the bars he would prowl or the women he would seduce in Philly. He’d still do it, but at least he’d use a condom for sure. And maybe he’d think of her, at least while he was rolling it on.

And in the meantime she had bigger problems to worry about. She really hadn’t decided what to say to Kerrie Cosner at lunch the next day. And before that, she had to deal with her babysitting commitment.

And so as she ran her normal errands, she detoured to used bookstores, hoping to find something to capture the interest of the hellhounds. Sports and violence, she knew from frustrated experience. So she picked up DVDs of football movies, even though she suspected Jason owned them already. At least she could expand her own knowledge while watching them, although she cautioned herself that she needed to keep both eyes on those kids at all times.

It had been tough enough when three of them were mobile, but now that the baby had morphed into a super-stealthy toddler, it was impossible to keep track of them as they faked a need to use the bathroom, then went outside to set off illegal fireworks or upstairs to throw water balloons out the window.

Luckily, she knew their tricks, and so when it was time to get dressed, she braided her hair and rolled it into a tight bun behind her head. Something impossible to cut. Then she dressed in thick jeans, a long-sleeved turtleneck and sturdy socks. Did she look like a ninja? Possibly. But it would be tougher for them to find unprotected skin.

Plus, these kids would respect her more as a ninja anyway.

When she finally showed up on the Spurling doorstep, Jason yanked open the door before she even knocked. Then he howled with laughter. “Are you a babysitter or a burglar?”

“They’re not tattooing me with a butterfly this time,” she assured him.

“I hate to tell you, but that was a bat.”

She laughed, then glanced around, wary. “Where are they?”

“On the couch. I promised fifty bucks to anyone who could keep his butt there for twenty minutes.”

“Even the baby?”

Jason grinned. “He’s in the stockade.”

She rolled her eyes, picturing the reinforced playpen Jason had built when the toddler began using toilet training as an excuse to flush everything in the house.

Like father, like son, she decided, quirking an eyebrow at his rumpled polo shirt and Dockers. “You’re not wearing that, are you? It’s adorable, but not exactly date-worthy.”

He shrugged as if to say he had done his best. “Maybe you should stick to the original plan. She’s looking forward to that wing slut thing. It’s all she’s been talking about. And I rented some robot movies for me and the kids. We love those.”

“I love robot movies, too,” she lied. “And I can’t go to a club like this.”

“You’d get some kinky action, that’s for sure.”

She laughed then insisted, “You and Bethie will have fun.”

“We’re married. We have fun all the time. No need to go out.”

Rachel was about to scold him when his gaze shifted to the top of the stairway and he whistled appreciatively.

She turned to see Beth, looking hotter than sin in a tight black dress and sky-high heels. She had curled her hair, and her makeup was outlandishly sexy, accentuating the green and gold in her huge hazel eyes.

Jason took the steps two at a time, then stood in front of her, looking into her face, his mouth literally watering. “Wow, babe.”

She gave him a playful smile. “Thanks.”

“Give me a minute. I’ll find something better to wear.”

“What?” Her gaze shifted to Rachel. “Why are you dressed like Catwoman?”

Jason turned her back to face him. “Because
I’m
taking you out.”

“What?” She cleared her throat, but still sounded husky when she said, “You guys planned this?”

“We should do it more often, baby,” he told her, leaning down to nibble her neck. “Don’t move.”

She nodded, speechless, as he dashed toward the master bedroom. Then she slipped off her shoes and came down the stairs to stand with Rachel. “This was supposed to be
your
night.”

“How can I compete?” Rachel teased.

Beth smiled wistfully. “You’re staying with the kids? That’s above and beyond.”

“I’ve got a plan.”

She seemed ready to protest, but Jason was on his way down the stairs, shocking them with his instant transformation. Broad shoulders, cocky attitude, seductive smile, all wrapped up in dark pants, a fancy dress shirt and a brown leather bomber jacket.

Beth gushed aloud.
“There’s
the guy I married.”

Rachel dragged her own imagination back to earth and insisted, “Stay out late. Or get a room for the whole night if you want.” Then she gave her friend’s hand a squeeze. “Have fun, Bethie.”

“Try and stop me.” Beth walked up to her husband and gave him a quick kiss that he turned into a tonsil scorcher.

Finally, he wrapped his arm around her waist and led her toward the door, telling Rachel, “They’re ready for you, so don’t doze off. And watch that little one. He’s downright evil.”

“Just go.”

She smiled until the door closed behind them. Then she picked up her heavy bag filled with games, videos and out-and-out bribes, squared her shoulders, and marched into the belly of the beast.

• • •

She was exhausted but basically intact when Rafa picked her up at noon the next day. Guzzling her bottled water in the backseat, she encouraged him to chatter about his March Madness basketball brackets.

Whatever
that
meant.

By the time she walked into the restaurant, she thought she was ready for anything. But she had forgotten about Kerrie, who in many ways was worse than Beth’s toddler, giving Rachel a boisterous hug, then calling Agnes over and making her embrace them too.

The waitress flushed. “What can I bring you, miss?”

“Call her Rachel,” Kerrie insisted. “And bring a dozen cosmos. Right, Rachel?”

“Iced tea, please, Agnes.” She smiled wearily. “Thanks.”

Slipping into the booth, she warned Kerrie, “I was up late. So don’t take it personally if I’m low energy.”

“Up late? With a guy?”

“Four of them, ranging in age from tiny to scary. Beth Spurling’s kids. Do you know her?”

Kerrie grimaced. “I worked with her on a fund-raiser once and she was bossy as hell. I can just imagine how she’d treat a nice person like you.”

It was a common observation. Rachel had made it herself more than once. But still, her loyalty to Beth couldn’t let it pass, especially because Kerrie interacted with NFL wives, and probably gossiped with them from time to time.

So she said quietly, “She’s one of my favorite friends. Mostly because she has such a big heart. If you knew her, you’d like her. I promise.”

Kerrie smiled in apology. “Sorry.”

“She’s taking a break now,” Rachel continued. “But we met when we were teaching at the same school. She didn’t socialize much, since she already had two kids. Then one of our students got terribly sick. So bad they moved him from the hospital to a pediatric care facility—that’s code for hospice—and we all knew he was dying. We took turns visiting, and one day . . .” Rachel paused to stem the tears that always erupted when she thought of that hopeless situation. “One day, I got there early and stood in the hallway and listened to Beth and the little boy. They were so connected. Because she was so—well, in the moment. Like he was her whole, entire world. But not sweet or sympathetic. She was telling him stories about her boys, and they were laughing and joking around—” She choked on a sob, then just shook her head.