Sinners Football 01- Goals for a Sinner (6 page)

Joe Dean wasn’t listening. Stevie, heading for the Jacuzzi, had walked past them out to the deck in her electric blue tank suit.

“Great legs, nice rack,” he said appraisingly.

“You can tell the breasts are real because they look all soft and squeezable. Can’t believe you sit in that tub with her and don’t get a hard-on.” Connor buried his face in his hands. “The game, Joe Dean, think about the game.”

Chapter Six

Stevie watched the brutal game against the Salt Lake Saints. Joe Dean Billodeaux tried to stay with his favorite long passes to Connor Riley, but when the opposing team put three men on Riley, he created fumbles, over-throws, one interception, and many teeth-jarring tackles of the wide receiver. At the half, the score stood at seventeen-zip in favor of the Saints.

In the second half, Billodeaux saved his own ass with a fake and a run through a hole, gaining enough yardage to make a short pass into the end zone a possibility. Going to underutilized receiver, DeVon Deets, the Sinners got their first goal. A fierce defense kept the Saints from scoring again, and their attempt at another field goal failed.

Riley, taking over for the normal punt receiver, ran the ball back to the Sinners forty-yard line thanks to some great blocking. However, when Billodeaux attempted a throw to Riley on the next play, he was sacked with nowhere to go as defenders swarmed around the wide receiver. A series of short passes to Deets eventually got the touchdown.

In the fourth quarter, the Sinners needed one more. Billodeaux faked to Deets but found Connor open. He scored.

Stevie jumped up in front of Connor’s wide-screen TV. She pumped her fist. “Yes, he scores!” She remembered her sore ribs and sat down again.

Recuperation was becoming tedious, and she supposed Connor wouldn’t be home until sometime tomorrow. He certainly didn’t have to call or answer to her. The announcers had made a big deal about the Saints playing the Sinners. With no place in Salt Lake for the kind of victory celebration the Sinners team enjoyed, Connor would probably stay with Joe Dean in the city and go out with the team when they got home.

The big house was a lonely place with only the incessant shrill of the phone and the click of the answering machine taking endless messages ever since the magazine article appeared. Despite the number of calls, the messages sounded all about the same. “Connor, this is Brandi. Give me a call when the season is over.” “Connor, this is Autumn. We spent a night together a couple of years ago. Here I thought you didn’t like me, but now I understand.

Let me leave my number in case you’ve lost it.” “Hi Connor, Keely Hyde here. We went out a couple of times in college. Got your number from your mother.

I’m working in New Orleans now. Give me a call sometime.”

Feeling restless and edgy, Stevie went out to jog around the perimeter of Connor’s walled and gated property. Her healing ribs demanded she stop before she got half way to the gate. She walked the rest of the way to use up some energy and quell whatever urges built inside her.

When she got back to the house, the phone was still ringing, the answering machine collecting more phone numbers from old flames and a few women who admitted they had never met Connor but had ferreted his number from acquaintances. A particularly candid lady named Caresse confessed she’d slept with Joe Dean Billodeaux to find out how to get in touch with Connor, the kind of man she really wanted.

To get away from the messages that were driving her slowly and surely nuts, Stevie headed to the hot tub where she could enjoy the peace of the night and the stars in the sky. She turned the deck lights low, slipped into the warm water and drifted off. After looking around the house, Connor found her in the Jacuzzi. Blonde tendrils escaping from a mussed topknot floated in the water around her pale neck like the hair of a mermaid. Her lips, full and pink, were slightly parted. He didn’t wake her but, limping slightly, went inside and got his trunks on.

The backwash when he slid into the tub slapped Stevie in the face. She floundered awake to see Connor grinning at her across the tub.

Stevie wiped the water from her eyes. “I thought you wouldn’t be home ’til tomorrow night. I must be reaching prune status by now.” She contemplated her wrinkled fingertips.

“You look fine. I asked Coach if I could fly out right after the game. I guess you saw I got roughed up. I wanted to get home and soak the bruises. Got a sprain will have to be taped for the rest of the season. Not much longer now.”

“Can I bring you something to eat? You can stay in the tub,” she offered.

“No, I’m good.”

“You certainly must be. The phone has been ringing all day and all night. I think the messages are being erased and recorded over. A lot of eager women out there are waiting for the end of the season.”

“Damn Rita Fortunado. Like the hazing I’m getting from the guys isn’t enough. They tried to get Joe Dean to give me one of his current women. He’s running with a redhead who has a forty-four inch chest and just for balance, a skinny Tyra Banks super model look-alike right now. Joe said he isn’t sharing. Didn’t want to destroy my mojo, he said.

And the trash talk I got about my saintliness from the opposing team, I don’t even want to repeat.

Stevie, I’m not a saint.”

“That’s what all these women who are calling seem to know.” She flicked a small spray of water at him, but the droplets only hit mid-chest and meandered down through his golden hair and back into the tub just above his waist. Stevie followed the trickle with her eyes.

“And I’m not your brother’s college girl friend anymore. I’ve been around, Connor. The funny thing is I might have ended up married to Kevin if he had known I got a prescription for birth control pills that week. I was waiting for my next period so I could start them, Kevin’s Christmas surprise. I got the surprise when he dumped me, so I took my pills and went to study in Italy.

“I didn’t need to know that.” Connor knew his face flushed. From the heat of the water, he told himself. Regardless, Stevie went full steam ahead.

Stephanie Dowd, no shrinking violet.

“And then, there was Marcello who wanted to be a male model. I created a great portfolio for him, dressed and undressed. He did leave me a note of thanks for the good times and the great photos when he took off for New York. You know about Dexter Sykes. We were partners in the studio and in bed.

He stole my Smokey LeBlanc cover. I don’t think saintly men exist. I need to get out now. I really do.” Stevie heaved herself out of the water. The tank suit immediately plastered itself against her body and revealed her raised nipples, the small dent of her navel and the cleft between her legs. She bent to get her towel and gave Connor the rear view as well.

“Do you know why I always stay in the tub for awhile after you get out? Because I can’t get out without embarrassing the both of us. I still covet my brother’s college girlfriend.” Connor stood, his desire obvious. He reached up, grasped Stevie by the waist and pulled her back into the tub. He slid down into the water and held her along the length of his body, his aroused penis pressed against the cleft between her legs. He wrapped both of his muscular arms about her as if she might try to escape, and drove his lips against hers, his tongue seeking immediate entrance.

She had been celibate longer than Connor. She moved against him with her legs planted wide over his hips. They had to give up the kiss to suck in enough air to keep breathing. Connor loosened his arms and put his head back, eyes closed. He jerked when Stevie bit his shoulder, but pressed her harder against him with his hands on her buttocks.

He could not stop himself. It had been such a long time. He shuddered and cried, “Oh, God!” But Stevie wasn’t finished and she wasn’t stopping. Connor tried to lift her, but she clung tightly to his hips, moving against him faster and faster. The slick fabric of the bathing suit sunk deep into her cleft seemed to add to her pleasure. And then it happened, that tight contraction, that the infinite expansion only women experienced, going on and on until she collapsed against his chest.

Connor took her in his arms and raised her to the lip of the tub. He buried his face in her lap.

Stroking his long blond curls, Stevie let herself slip back against the cool planks of the deck. A few moments later, Connor heaved himself out of the water and lay on the deck beside her. They touched at shoulder, hip and fingertips. Both looked up at the stars.

“Did I hurt you? You know, your ribs. I sort of lost track of where my hands were going.”

“I’m not feeling any pain. None at all. But look, I’m sorry if I made you break your vow. I wasn’t trying to get first in line for the end of the season or anything like that. It’s been a long time between lovers for me, too.”

“Hell, President Clinton wouldn’t even consider this to be sex. I keep telling people the celibacy thing wasn’t a vow, but nobody hears me. I just hope those old stories about women getting pregnant in swimming pools aren’t true. I wasn’t exactly a model of control tonight.”

“Chlorine will get those little buggers, I guess…I hope. I stopped taking the pill after I threw Dex out.

No sense filling your body with chemicals when you’ve given up on men, right?”

“Uh, right. I have a whole box of condoms in my night table. We could go check the expiration date on them together.”

“Sounds like a great plan to me.” The condoms had not expired. Stevie stretched out beside Connor and rested her head against his chest. He looked down the length of her naked body nestled against him and admired her full, pink-tipped breasts, the light unwaxed curls between her legs, those long, smooth limbs. Stevie Dowd, one-hundred percent natural woman and all his.

“Ah, Stevie. I’m kind of beat from the game and the travel time, and I’m no Superman. I might need a little time to recuperate, but if you want, I can take care of-um-your needs again.”

“No Superman, but definitely a saint. I don’t recall any man ever saying that to me before. If word gets out, that phone will start ringing again. They won’t hear it from me. I want to keep you all to myself for awhile.”

“That’s the way I want it, too.”

“Let’s get some rest. Maybe later tonight.” Stevie snuggled even closer and simply fell asleep.

Connor stroked her long, blonde hair still damp from the tub and tangled from their last encounter.

He’d given her something Kevin never had. Now this tough, independent woman belonged to him, not his brother. She would not appreciate being treated like some fragile female. He was no expert on women like Joe Dean, but he did know that. Still, what he felt for her was a deep tenderness and the desire to protect, something pretty close to love. But then, he’d been searching for Stevie Dowd all of his adult years while she went unaware with other men who had hurt her. Time, he had to give her some time whether he wanted to or not. Keeping her near, he closed his eyes.

Stevie woke around three in the morning.

Pressed up against her, Connor snored lightly. She should return to her own bed and let him rest.

Carefully, she raised the heavy arm that enclosed her and slipped to the edge of the mattress. Connor rolled on to his back. The shine from the security lights outside the house pierced through the windows and gilded his tall, pale body. Even flaccid he was an exciting man to behold. Ah, those bold Viking cheekbones, those sculpted lips, the light stubble beginning to appear on his chin that would give a slight scratch to any lovemaking. Not to mention what he had between his legs. Nothing to complain about there. No, indeed.

She wanted to lean over and kiss his lips, wake him for more bed sports, but she also noticed his bruises, that taped ankle. She must let him recuperate. She could always finish up alone just by remembering him. Connor Riley, a man who would be too easy to love. She shifted her weight and stood up. His eyes opened. His hormones kicked in.

Looking at her naked body with drowsy eyes, he said, “I think we should use those condoms before they go bad.”

“You should rest.”

“I don’t need rest as much as I need you.”

“Fine, I’m easy to convince and ready just looking at you.”

Stevie spread herself out on the bed again and Connor, fresh condom applied, rolled atop. He started slowly making sure of that readiness, careful of her sore ribs.

Oh yes, so much better without the bathing suit and swimming trunks between them, Stevie thought. Better than Dex or Marcello. And who cared about Kevin Riley anymore?

Chapter Seven

Obviously, Joe Dean Billodeaux was not the happy team player this evening. He slumped in a lounge chair on Connor’s deck and glumly watched Riley flip steaks on the grill where three thick porterhouses and one rib eye sizzled. Connor knew he wore a cheese-eating grin and gave himself away every time he looked at Stevie. Frankly, he didn’t give a damn what kind of foul mood Joe was in, nothing could take the shine from having Stevie in his bed last night.

The quarterback regaled everyone on the deck with his complaints. “Sure, after the game review, the rest of you guys did a light workout and went home. Coach Buck says, ‘Oh, Connor stay off your bad ankle’, but I get held back. I spent all afternoon throwing pass after pass to DeVon Deets, long ones, short ones, left field, right field. Next practice, Coach wants me to concentrate on handing off to the halfback as if I’m some new kid in high school.