Playing For Keeps (6 page)

She should have told him to take a hike. Or pushed him away. Done something. Anything. But it was impossible to think straight when he had her backed up against the wal . And he claimed she was dressed indecently! Coming after her with his shirt wide open. Her fingernails itching to rake his hard rock abs and trace the starburst tattoo to where it ended below the waistband of his pants, the top button conveniently undone. If she had the powers of psycho kinesis his zipper would’ve been undone in a flash.

A hot flash of desire tril ed up and down her body, then pooled between her thighs. She stopped walking and took a slow breath to steady herself.

Hannah was wrong. Instead of stopping his heart, Samantha had awakened a beast. Not only in him, but also within herself. That reminded her, she needed to tel Hannah ASAP to expect a cal from Jake. Samantha pul ed out her cel phone and dialed.

“So, should I turn on the news? Murder by Skirt?”

Samantha smiled at Hannah’s wit. Rooming with her would never be boring. “No, I suppose I’m not the femme fatale that I imagined.”

“Wel , he is a healthy male.”

“Very healthy and very male.” Samantha blushed remembering his hardness pressed up against her.

“Do tel .”

Samantha relayed the latest and ended with, “He was like a caged beast.”

“So why didn’t you unlock the door?”

Good question
.
Why didn’t she? It’s why you came back.

“Oh, I almost forgot the reason I cal ed. Jake asked for your number so I gave him your cel .

“If you weren’t already my best friend, you’d be it now. And why I’m going to let my question go unanswered. For now.”

Samantha heard shouting over the phone.

Hannah’s voice was ful of sweetness when she yel ed back, “Darling I’l be right there,” then went back to her normal tone, “Photographers! And they claim models are the divas! I have to get back to the shoot. Do the model thing and al that. See you at home.”

***

Hannah shut off her phone. If Jake cal ed, he could leave a message. Maybe she’d return his cal . Maybe not, believing it was always best to keep a man waiting.

Three tiring hours later she turned her phone back on. A message from Ricardo - so over him – and one from Jake. She tapped the phone on her chin in indecision. Against her better judgment, she decided to cal .

He picked up right away and before she knew it she’d agreed to meet him for dinner at six-thirty. After a long day under the hot lights and smiling like an idiot, the last thing Hannah wanted to do was go on a date. But she couldn’t refuse Jake Mil er. He was too delicious. Al that caramel skin that a girl could taste over and over and not gain an ounce. Those sable brown eyes reminded her of a mink coat she liked to rol around naked in.

That bald head, which was more of a fashion statement than a necessity, only added to his bad boy image.

Jake’s moves on the field made her wonder about his moves in bed. And that voice! He’d make a kil ing at phone sex. She preferred the real thing, but with his deep, throaty tenor, it was something she definitely wanted to try. Jake could recite the tax code and she’d melt at his feet. She made her way home for a quick shower and change. Hannah checked her watch - four o’clock. Good, she had just enough time.

***

Jake sat at the table he’d reserved earlier. He fidgeted nervously, looking around at the other diners. He checked his watch. Six-forty. Had he been stood up or was she a woman who liked to make an entrance? Glances of pity from the waiters had him pul ing on his tie to loosen it.

Then he heard murmurs around the room and looked up to see the most beautiful woman in the world gliding his way. It was a toned down version of her runway walk and he leaned back in his chair to enjoy the show. A smug smile appeared on his face knowing he was no longer being pitied but admired as the man who Hannah was here for. A blue-eyed, blonde, golden beauty, and even though this described many of the super-models out there, she was a rare blend of the girl next door, graceful sophistication, and temptress. She knew it, too. By the way she walked, the way she wore the turquoise dress, and the confidence of her secret smile. Except, as she drew closer, he noticed vulnerability in her eyes. At first, he thought he was mistaken, but as he stood up to greet her, Jake was sure he wasn’t. Then the look was gone, replaced with a predatory gaze, as she looked him over. Like he was dinner.

“Hel o, Jake. I’m sorry I’m late. Had a devil of a time getting a cab.”

Jake took her hand. “It was wel worth the wait, but wouldn’t have been necessary if you had let me pick you up.” He kissed her hand and then slowly let it down so he could pul out her chair.

Hannah slipped into her seat graceful y. “Now, Jake, I couldn’t let you travel across town for me. It made more sense my way.” She opened the menu.

Jake caught a whiff of her light floral perfume that teased his senses – smel and taste often went hand in hand and right now he was hungry to lick and nibble on Hannah’s neck, but returned to his seat. She liked things her way and he could tel she was used to getting it. But not this time.

She delighted in making him wait and now it was his turn to return the favor.

Hannah flipped the menu shut with dramatic flair. “Now, what are we going to do about Samantha and Ryan?”

Chapter 5

Early Saturday morning, Samantha packed a smal suitcase for the trip to Dal as. She picked a non-descript pair of gray slacks and a blue blouse for tomorrow’s game. The choice had nothing to do with Ryan’s warning about her wardrobe – nothing at al . Then she threw in a pair of jeans, a tshirt to hang out in and added a nightshirt, shoes, and underwear. She pul ed her already packed workout bag from under the bed and threw it on top.
That should do it.
She’d only be gone one night and if she needed anything else, she could stop at a local department store. It wasn’t like she was leaving for Iraq where a bul etproof vest was easier to come by than a pair of pantyhose. Not that she ever needed pantyhose in Iraq.

Before she closed the door to her closet, she considered packing the little black dress hanging innocently on the rack. But real y, where would she wear it? Though women’s fashion magazines recommend being prepared for the unexpected. Samantha forgot al about the dress as a knock sounded at her door. “Come on in,” she yel ed.

Hannah waltzed in waving a strip of condoms before tucking them into the gym bag. “Can’t forget these. It’s not like I got to use them.”

“Hannah!”

“Maybe you’l have better luck with Ryan than I did with Jake.” She proceeded to toss herself dramatical y onto the bed.

Samantha noted the rumpled pajamas. “Guess it didn’t go wel .”

“It was great, right up until the moment when he told me he doesn’t go al the way on the first date!”

“He actual y said so?” Samantha didn’t think men of that breed stil existed, if they ever did.

“Yes.” Hannah pounded the pil ow.

“I think that’s sweet. Maybe he’s interested in more than a one-night stand.”

“Maybe he’s the one who’s gay.”

Samantha settled on the bed next to Hannah. “Or he’s simply one of those athletes that doesn’t have sex a couple of days before a game?”

“That I can live with.” Hannah leaned up on her bended arm and continued with a devious smile, “That means by the time Jake gets home on Sunday night he’l be raring to go!”

“The players are pretty beat up after a game.” Samantha recal ed the players’ stiff movements in the locker room.

“Who better than me to lick his wounds?”

Samantha squeezed her eyes shut. “Hannah, you are…”

“What?”

“Wicked.” She shot her eyes open and threw her hands up in exasperation.

“I am, aren’t I?” she admitted with a mischievous grin. “Would you mind doing a little recon for me?”

“What, you want me to spy on him? To see if he picks up any girls?”

“Perish the thought! The man would have to be nuts to turn me down and then go off with some groupie. Hah! I want you to take a peek and let me know his vital statistics. Better yet, your cel phone has a camera.”

“We’ve been over this before. I won’t do it.”

Hannah dragged herself off the bed with the flair of a soap opera star. “Samantha, you’re…”

“What?”

“No fun!” Hannah stomped out with a performance worthy of a Daytime Emmy.

No fun?
Samantha was plenty fun. Wasn’t she? Work consumed her waking hours and she tossed and turned in bed alone. Did she even know what fun was anymore? Perhaps not, but she wasn’t going to start by putting her career on the line for a little sneak and peek.

She’d seen a little skin and in one case some foreskin, but it wasn’t like she looked for it. Samantha did her best to avert her gaze. Sometimes that wasn’t enough and in passing she’d seen those ‘vital statistics’ as Hannah cal ed them. But in a locker room environment, ‘vital’ wouldn’t be the word to describe their dicks. It’s not like the players strutted around with hard-ons the way Hannah seemed to think.

With the exception of Ryan toweling off, the locker room was the least sexy place ever. Hannah would be disappointed to discover just how much of a turn-off it was. Then again, knowing Hannah, if she worked the room the ‘statistics’ would spring with vitality.

Samantha needed to take a hint from Hannah and live life to the ful est, including a sex life. Did she even know what sex was anymore? She snorted in disgust. She was as celibate as her sister the nun! From her closet the little black number cal ed to her, but in a compromise she didn’t remove the condoms.

***

Samantha arrived in Dal as later that day and ended up sharing a cab with Bradley, a sportswriter from Al Sports, a national magazine. They talked shop on the way to the hotel until he brought up the article from the Yorker.

“I have to tel you I was surprised. I thought you and Terel were involved.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “I’m the one who’s surprised that you consider that rag a reliable news source.”

“Come on, they don’t make stuff up. There has to be a grain of truth in there somewhere.”

“The only fact they did get right was that Hannah is my roommate. But that’s al . We went to high school together.”

“And Terel ?”

Samantha knew the road he was driving down and decided to throw up a roadblock before he picked up any speed. “I don’t mix business with pleasure. End of story.” Samantha looked at Bradley poignantly.

“Damn, and just when I thought this was going to be an interesting trip.”

“Can’t win them al .”

“Ouch, that hurts.” Bradley put his hand to his navy blue blazer mocking an injury to the heart. “Using sports analogies to let me down easy.”

Samantha laughed. “Poor baby.”

“Can you introduce me to Hannah?”

“That’s a first, usual y I get Hannah’s seconds.”

“Wow, I’m glad we’re here. I don’t know if my ego can take anymore bashing.”

As the cabbie drove up to the hotel’s entrance, Samantha observed a bunch of scantily dressed females surrounding the arriving players. It was stil a bit of a culture shock coming from Iraq where many of the women were clothed head to toe.

“Does this happen al the time?” she asked Bradley as he paid for the fare.

“You know the saying, a girl in every city?”

“Of course.” She handed him half the fare.

“Wel , make that plural, as in girls.”

Samantha arched an eyebrow. “How can they play the next day?”

“Where do you think the term ‘home field advantage’ came from? See you around.” He dropped her suitcase at her feet.

“Yeah, later.” She didn’t bother to glance down and realized she hadn’t taken her eyes off the spectacle being played out in front of her.

Most of the groupies were handing out phone numbers. The bolder ones slipped the players room keycards. And they didn’t let a gold band get in the way. She wondered how many of the married ones would jump at the chance to use the keys covertly slipped to them. She didn’t know how the wives put up with it. It was painful y obvious that the players considered this normal. Did Ryan think so too? He wasn’t married, but how many women had he hooked up with over the years? This year? This week? Did the sexiest man in the NFL, as voted by femalefan.com, keep stats?

She looked over at him, not wanting to see it with her own eyes, but knowing she had to. A mob of women surrounded him. She took her luggage and moved closer for a better look. Ryan was innocently signing autographs on slips of paper. Then a woman exposed her breast. Samantha drew in a sharp breath.

Having seen enough, she tried to enter the lobby, but the hotel security guards thought she was one of the fans and blocked her path. While digging for her press card, Ryan snuck up behind her and gently took her by the arm.

“What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?”

“Trying to keep the groupies away, Sir.”

“She’s worse, she’s a reporter.”

“Ryan!” Samantha elbowed him in the stomach. The guard held the door open while laughing. “What is it about me and security guards?”

“Perhaps you look like a trouble maker,” Ryan said lightly.

“Me?” Once through the doors, she added, “Thank you for your assistance. I’m sorry you had to tear yourself away from your admirers,” she half joked.

“Jealous?”

“What of? A bunch of women who only want to sleep with you because you’re a pro footbal player? Please.”

Unfazed, Ryan fol owed her. “No, you’re jealous I might take them up on their offers. Unless you have a better proposition?”

“In your dreams.”

“Had plenty of those.” He gently took her arm, leaned forward and whispered in her ear. His breath tingled at her neck. “You and me tangled in the bed sheets. You and me in the back of my-”

“Tel it to your bimbos. They might be dumb enough to believe you.” Annoyed at his nerve, but aroused at the images he evoked, she slipped away and walked ahead. As she checked-in, she turned around to glare at him, but instead she witnessed a gorgeous blonde sliding a keycard into his back pocket. Then, the blonde rubbed his butt - like Samantha had always wanted to do - and smiled up at him. Samantha gritted her teeth.