by Liz Lincoln
He braced his hands on the table behind her so he wouldn’t collapse. His legs didn’t feel like they would hold him much longer. “Yeah?”
“All I could think about was how you looked the same, only better.” She flicked her tongue over his nipple, and he sucked in a breath. “You were in fantastic shape back then. But you were, in many ways, still a boy.” She trailed large wet kisses along his clavicle and up the side of his neck. “Now you’re all man.”
Her words jarred something loose in his chest. He didn’t know what it was, just that it was both comforting and uncomfortable at the same time. She was right, they had just been kids back then. They were definitely older now, but considering the fire they were playing with, it was hard to say if they were any wiser.
Needing to not think anymore, he devoured her lips and dug his fingers into her hips as he turned them and walked her toward the car. When her legs hit the bumper, he pulled back just long enough to slam the hood shut. Then he gathered her back into his arms and continued kissing her, continued touching her. He loved holding her warm body against his, sliding his hands up her soft back, and listening to her coos of pleasure.
He bent her back so he could lower his head, and pulled a nipple into his mouth. She always tasted so good, hot and needy. He rolled his tongue around the hard bud until she was writhing and screaming and begging. Only then did he pull back, lifting his head to look down into her lust-filled eyes.
Unable to take his eyes off her face, he started tugging at her leggings until he had them down her legs and off. He pressed a kiss to her hip bone. “I want to fuck you right here, right on this car.”
“Yes. Do it. Now.”
He jerked her panties off her feet and tossed them on the floor. Then he started to work on his own belt, though he got temporarily distracted when she spread her legs wide, giving him a perfect view of her gorgeous pussy. His body yearned—actually fucking yearned—to kiss her there, to suck and lick until she came.
But not now. They didn’t have a lot of time, and Natalie tended to get louder as their time together went on. If she started screaming his name, Matt would surely come looking for them. It might not be the worst thing in the world if his roommate found out about them, but he didn’t need it to be while they were in the act.
So Quinn forced himself to stay focused on his belt. His hands shook as he pulled it through the loops then shoved down his jeans and boxer briefs. He didn’t take the time to remove them from his feet, just shuffled forward until he could press his body against Natalie’s once again.
Her legs immediately came around his waist and he wanted to cry. He spent much of his time trying to pretend it was just sex between them, but moments like this when his guard was down and he was vulnerable, he knew it was something more, something he shouldn’t want and couldn’t have. But he would savor it for as long as he could.
He took his cock and ran it between her legs, causing both of them to groan. She was so hot and so wet, and it all felt so amazing on his cock, he was in danger of losing it right there.
Her feet on his ass, she pulled him in closer and his tip bumped up against her clit. “Oh god,” she moaned. “Now. Please, Quinn, now.” Her lashes fluttered open and she looked up at him, her eyes wobbly as if she were having trouble focusing.
Which made two of them.
“Please say you have a condom.”
His laugh came out rough, as he bent to fish one out of his jeans pocket. “I’ve been dying to see you spread out on the hood of a car since the night of the museum party.” He gave her a cheeky half grin that he knew she loved. “I really did need to work on the car, but I’d say that’s the secondary reason I brought you out here.”
She grinned right back. “Let’s get to it then.” She sat up enough to snatch the condom from his hand. Her long, sexy fingers smoothed it over his throbbing cock, a beautiful, delicious torture. He needed inside her so badly.
As soon as she smoothed it all the way down his length, she lay back again and hooked her legs even tighter around his hips. Her beautiful eyes locked on his, she said, “Now.”
In that moment, he couldn’t have stopped himself if a three-hundred-pound lineman tackled him. He would simply wrap Natalie up and take her with him.
Despite his high state of arousal, he took his time, savoring every bit, every movement, as he slid inside her. She tightened around him, welcoming him, clutching him. It was so fucking good, it was almost more than he could take. He was panting, sweat dripping into his eyes. At this point, Matt could walk in with the whole rest of the team and he wouldn’t care.
Once he was fully inside her, he rolled his hips in a slow circle, grinding down against her clit just to hear the sharp gasp of pleasure she made as he did it.
“How does it possibly get better every time?” Her eyelashes fluttered as she struggled to keep them open.
Quinn nibbled at her lip. “I don’t know, but I’m glad it’s not just me.” Whatever the hell was happening between them, at least they were in this craziness together.
Chapter 19
The Cork and Plate was loud and crowded with Saturday-night diners. And while Natalie had hoped to spend the evening drinking wine and catching up with Annie, she could hardly mind that Ryan had called and asked if she wanted to grab dinner. Being in the same division, the Dragons and the Scorpions played each other twice every season. This time, the Scorpions had come to Milwaukee for the game.
Unfortunately, the restaurant they’d chosen was so popular, and had such terrible acoustics, they pretty much had to yell to be heard.
“So, how are things going in your love life?” Natalie grinned as she asked the question. She was curious about what was going on in her friend’s life. Plus, if she kept the focus on him, hopefully he wouldn’t ask about her own love life. She couldn’t exactly tell him that she was routinely hooking up with her ex.
Quinn claimed he hadn’t told anyone, and though Natalie figured she would probably tell Annie, they hadn’t had a chance yet to talk. That had been part of Natalie’s plan for that evening before Ryan called.
Ryan grinned as he swirled the whiskey in his glass. “We’re getting married next June.”
Vicarious excitement churned through Natalie. She wiggled in her seat and clapped her hands. “That’s so exciting! I’m so happy for you. Now you have to tell me all the details.” If she kept him focused on his wedding details, again, much smaller chance he would ask about her love life.
Or any other part of her life. Because honestly, her whatever-it-was with Quinn was one of the few things in her life working right. It seemed every time she talked to Ellen, her frustration with her boss grew. She still couldn’t tell if it was Ellen’s idea, or her superiors’, but it really didn’t matter. They wanted more gossip and less news from Natalie, and that simply wasn’t the direction she wanted to take her career.
The problem was, anytime she tried to think about alternatives, the reality hit her that any alternative would likely mean leaving Milwaukee. Maybe once the season was over, she’d be able to consider that possibility without feeling like she couldn’t breathe. But right now, it sent her into an emotional tailspin. So she effectively avoided thinking about it at all. She knew it wasn’t the healthiest way to cope, but it was all she had.
She managed to keep Ryan on the subject of his pending nuptials until their food arrived. As she dug into her miso-glazed salmon, he looked across the table at her and said, “What about you?”
“What about me?” Natalie shoved an overly large bite of food into her mouth to keep her mouth occupied.
Ryan gave her an odd look. “Are you seeing anyone?”
He undoubtedly thought it was a perfectly innocent question. It should have been. But there simply was no way to answer truthfully without explaining a whole lot of extra truths she had no interest in sharing. Still, she really hated
lying to an old friend.
“You know how it is. The season keeps you so busy, you hardly have time to brush your teeth, let alone find someone to date.” Not an actual lie.
He studied her, frowning. “I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”
OK, she’d go with bald honesty then, because he wouldn’t believe her. She shrugged as she scooped up another bite of food. “OK, you got me. I’m having a wild secret affair with one of the players, but we decided it was best not to tell anyone. So if you can keep your mouth shut, I’d appreciate it.”
As she’d expected, Ryan laughed. “Sure, that seems plausible.”
She rolled her eyes. “I know, right?”
“So who’s the player?” A playful smile stayed on his lips as he ate.
She gave him a mock-conspiratorial look. “Quinn Lowry. Obviously. Who else would I have a secret, torrid affair with?”
This time when he laughed, Ryan actually leaned back and tossed his head back. He had to put his fork down.
Natalie forced a laugh too, but his reaction made her uneasy. Was the idea of her with Quinn really that laughable?
He chuckled. “Hey, speak of the devil, looks like there’s your lover boy.” Ryan grinned across the restaurant to a trio being seated.
Natalie’s heart stopped beating. It really was him. Quinn. Of all the restaurants in town, of course he chose this one. Probably because she’d mentioned it a few days ago, saying she wanted to try it because Annie had recommended it. The same reason she’d brought Ryan.
Even from a distance, she could see the tension in every line of Quinn’s body as he sat down across from his parents. Neither had changed much in the years since she’d last seen them.
Quinn was built like his dad, tall and broad, but he had his mother’s auburn hair and hazel eyes. His dad’s skin was olive toned, his hair nearly black. And while Quinn carried himself with an air of casual confidence, his dad held his body in a way meant to intimidate. Natalie had seen it plenty in her job. The men who by virtue of nothing other than being well-off white men decided they were more important. Everything she knew about Ken Lowry and the impression she’d gotten when she met him reinforced that he was one of those men.
Natalie took a sizable gulp of her wine. “I think those are his parents,” she said to Ryan. “He mentioned they would be at the game tomorrow.”
Ryan chuckled, shaking his head.
“What?”
“Just trying to picture you and Lowry getting back together. You’re funny, Griffith.”
Natalie laughed along with him, ignoring the building seesaw sensation in her chest. Was it really so hard to believe that after all this time, she and Quinn could actually reconcile?
She glanced his way again, just as he looked up and scanned the restaurant. Their gazes connected, and for a moment everything around them stopped. There was no Ryan, there were no Lowrys, no restaurant patrons or employees. Just Natalie and Quinn.
He raised his brows in surprise, then gave her that half smile that warmed everything inside her. Her memory flashed back to yesterday morning, when he looked up at her with that same expression, right before he buried his face in her pussy.
She returned the smile then forced her gaze away and her attention back to Ryan. If she sat there staring at Quinn, Ryan would figure out she wasn’t actually joking.
“Yeah, like that will ever happen in a million years.” Under the table, she squeezed her thighs together in an effort to tame some of the throbbing her memory had brought on.
Still, they weren’t really back together. It was just sex.
No matter how much a part of her was starting to think maybe she might possibly, maybe, want more.
* * *
—
Quinn tried to focus on what his dad was saying, but listening to him drone on and on about his business was dull under the best of circumstances. And this was far from the best of circumstances.
His seat gave him a perfect view of Natalie’s gorgeous profile, and his gaze kept wandering back to her, watching as she ate her dessert and drank her wine and chatted with the Scorpions’ team photographer.
He knew he didn’t have a right to be jealous. Yes, he and Natalie had agreed to be exclusive for the duration of their arrangement, largely as a health precaution, so he knew she wasn’t messing around with Ryan. And even if she was, it wasn’t like he had any real claim on her. She had told him that she and Ryan used to hook up, until he fell in love with someone.
So rationally he knew there was nothing wrong with Natalie having dinner with Ryan. They were friends.
Too bad his emotions weren’t listening to his rational brain. Seeing her with a guy who had once been her lover stirred up possessiveness inside him that he hadn’t realized was there. He never experienced any kind of jealousy when she was with Matt or Marcus or Jaron or Trask or any of the other guys on the team. Coaches, other reporters, any other guy, he had no issue. He hadn’t even really cared when she told him she was having dinner with Ryan.
But seeing it in action flared something in his gut. Not exactly anger, and not even exactly jealousy. It almost felt like…resentment. He wanted to be the one sitting across the dinner table from Natalie, making her laugh.
Which was ridiculous. They were just having sex. They weren’t dating. And honestly, there wasn’t anything stopping him from taking her out to dinner. They weren’t broadcasting their arrangement because it was nobody’s fucking business, but it wasn’t like they were keeping a torrid secret. If they went to dinner and ran into someone, he doubted the assumption would be they were sleeping together. Reporters sometimes took players out for meals to conduct interviews. Plus, it was pretty well known that Natalie was friendly with the group of guys he spent the majority of his time with.
“Let’s order another round of drinks,” his dad said, interrupting Quinn’s thoughts. He stared across the table at Quinn, challenge in his gaze.
Jesus fucking Christ, his dad was trying to forcibly drag him off the wagon.
“I’m good,” he said mildly, not letting his irritation show. He sure as hell wasn’t letting his dad win that round.
“I think if I have one more glass of wine, I might just fall asleep.” His mom giggled. “You know I’m always a cheap date.”
His dad just humphed in response and raised his hand to signal their waitress.
“Are you still seeing that therapist?” Ken asked after he’d ordered a scotch neat, specifically requesting Quinn’s favorite brand.
“I am,” Quinn said cautiously. For something to occupy himself, he reached for a slice of bread and began spreading it with butter.
“Oh, I wish you wouldn’t eat that. White carbs are just so bad for you.” Sylvia gave him a disapproving look.
Was she kidding with that shit? He ate more in a day than she probably did in a week. No, white bread wasn’t the best for him. For different reasons than she was implying. But he was a professional athlete. He could handle one slice of bread and butter.
“The nutritionist says it’s fine,” he muttered. In reality, the nutrition staff would probably tell him to eat complex carbs, but he wasn’t fucking dealing with that right now.
“Real men don’t need to see therapists to fix their problems.” Ken gave his son a stern look over the rim of his glass as he took a sip of scotch. “And what the hell kind of problems do you have anyway? You’re living your dream, even after your silly little break. I don’t know where you got this notion that it’s someone else’s responsibility to fix the little problems we all have. We taught you better than that.”
Quinn ground his teeth together in an effort not to respond. His dad loved to goad him. They’d had some version of this conversation at least a few hundred times since Quinn first entered rehab. In his dad’s mind, rehab was for people who lacked the self-c
ontrol to fix their drinking problems by themselves. Never mind that his rehab facility had done plenty of educating his parents about alcoholism, how it was a disease. His dad often declared that idea a crock of shit.
“It just makes me so sad that you think we failed you this much as parents,” Sylvia added. Because of course it was really about her.
This right here was exactly why he had started drinking in the first place. His dad was being an asshole, his mom turning everything back around so it was about her. After his big fight with his parents in tenth grade about quitting the therapy his dad somehow approved of back then, his football team lost to their big rival. In a foul mood, he’d gone to a party. Someone stuck a beer in his hand and he’d chugged it, then a second, until he felt that giddy oblivion he’d fallen in love with.
Now that he was sober, the only way he could deal with his parents was therapy. And a thousand miles between them. If he didn’t get a contract extension from the Dragons, and his only chance to continue playing was in Colorado Springs or Denver, he’d seriously have to consider retirement. He simply could not live that close to them again.
Thankfully the waitress chose that moment to bring out the appetizers. He shoveled as much of the braised pork into his mouth as he could so he wouldn’t have to talk. His mom started in about neighborhood gossip, people whose names he vaguely recognized but couldn’t recall their faces.
They’d just received their entrées when Natalie and Ryan wandered over. Quinn looked up and met her gaze, and tension in his shoulders seemed to drift away. She smiled, a soft sexy smile that warmed him. Despite the company he was in, one corner of his mouth turned up. “Hey. Fancy meeting you here.”
“Likewise.” Her eyes twinkled with something that looked almost like mischief. What was that about?
He stood and held his hand out to Ryan. “Good to see you, man.”
“Seems we’re making a habit of running into each other before games.” Ryan returned the handshake with a firm grip.
