Blindsided: Seattle Steelheads Football (Game on in Seattle Book 6)

by Jami Davenport

  “Everything’s fine. You’re—just so beautiful. So incredibly perfect.” His gaze locked on her nipples, pink and distended, begging for his mouth. She clutched the back of his head and wrapped her legs around his waist, digging those deadly heels into his ass. The sweet pain spurred him into action. He lowered his mouth and tasted. She tasted like a woman should taste, sweet and spicy, like cinnamon and nutmeg.

  Emma whimpered and the sound nearly drove him over the edge before he’d even opened his fly.

  “Emmie,” he whispered, his voice as hoarse and rough as his breathing. She arched her body, pushing her nipple hard against his mouth. He pulled it deep and suckled, driven insane by the little sounds she made. Tanner flicked his tongue across the hard nub and bit down lightly. Her entire body shuddered, filling him with the power he craved. He could make her come easily. She was so close. She tasted so good. She needed him so badly.

  He yanked her skirt up to her waist, not especially gentle, but he didn’t hear her complaining.

  “Please,” she pleaded, and he wondered if she knew exactly what it was she was pleading for.

  “So close, baby. So close. Let me take you over the edge, then you can return the favor.” Tanner sucked the other nipple into his mouth while sliding his hand between her legs. She opened wide for him.

  “Please,” she panted.

  While he feasted on her nipple, he pushed aside the crotch of her wet panties and slid his finger along her slit. And women claimed men couldn’t multi-task.

  Finding her clit, he pressed on it, and that was all it took. She came apart, crying out his name in a way that would live forever in his dreams. He didn’t wait for her to come down, he pushed a finger inside her pulsing wet heat to find her every bit as tight as he’d imagined, maybe even more so.

  He moved his finger in and out, preparing her for his big dick. Once he’d buried one finger inside her, he added a second, stretching her as best he could, but nothing would prepare her for the real him.

  “Make love to me, Tanner,” she begged.

  Her words gave him pause. Tanner didn’t make love. He fucked, screwed, laid, and rode, but he did not make love. He considered correcting her, but she put her hands on his fly, and he lost what few traces of rational thought he had left. Instead he pushed her fumbling fingers out of the way, unbuttoned his fly, and shoved his jeans downward in one fluid motion.

  She gasped and her mouth fell open as she stared at his proud member waving in the gentle breeze like a flag. “You—you don’t wear underwear.”

  He suspected that was the last thing on her mind, but he didn’t mind humoring her. “Sometimes. Sometimes not. I came here to get laid tonight, so the fewer clothes in the way, the better.”

  Her gorgeous lips formed a perfect “O” causing a flashback to one of those erotic dreams in which the same mysterious woman—this woman—did incredible things to him with that mouth and those lips.

  Tanner hesitated, some decent, long-buried part of him, reared its unwelcome head. “Emma, we don’t have to do this. We can stop now.” He prayed she’d say no, because he didn’t know if he could survive the rejection, but he had to offer.

  “I really want you.” She shook her head adamantly, and he could feel the broad smile breaking out across his face.

  “Good,” he said simply with a certain air of smugness. Bending, he snagged a condom from his jeans pocket, ripped open the packet, and rolled it onto his dick. He could feel her eyes on him and hear her sharp intake of breath.

  Tanner moved between her legs again and gently pushed her down on the table. He leaned over her, his hands on either side of her shoulders. He slid the head of his cock up and down her slit and back up again. He pressed it against her clit then withdrew. She wasn’t going to come without him this time.

  Tanner pushed the tip into her tight opening and met resistance. God, she was tight. She gasped and wriggled underneath him.

  “You’re so big.”

  “I promise I’ll take it slow, but it might still hurt at first if you’re not used to a guy as big as me.”

  “Conceited, a little?” she teased, and it warmed his heart that she could still joke when he was about to stretch her wider than she’d ever been stretched.

  “Just honest.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She closed her eyes and clung to him, those gorgeous, endless legs of hers wrapped once again around his waist, and her heels dug into his bare ass.

  Tanner bit his lower lip. Using one hand, he forced himself to keep his cock at her entrance as he drew lazy circles around her opening. Her juices lubricated the condom, and he pushed in a little farther, not much, not even enough to be considered true penetration but just enough to tease him senseless.

  Damn, he wanted her so badly, his head was ringing—persistent, non-stop ringing.

  He froze as the sound registered in his fogged brain.

  Tanner had a separate ringtone for Izzy—the one he was hearing right now.

  Emma must have read the alarm on his face. “Do you need to get that?”

  He almost laughed at the ludicrous situation they were in; any other time, he’d have silenced the phone and finished his unfinished business.

  But this was Izzy, one of his best friends, and the only female in his inner circle. He confided stuff to her he couldn’t tell the guys.

  And this was her precious, sweet, innocent sister writhing underneath him. The one he was about to ride on a picnic table with no more concern for her than any of his other quick fucks. Even worse, he was taking advantage of her when she was drunk and not thinking straight.

  Izzy deserved better from him, and so did Emma.

  Talk about throwing cold water on his libido.

  Emma looked alarmed. “Who is it?”

  “Your sister Izzy,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Oh,” was all she said. But she must have felt the effects of the same cold water because she suddenly wrapped her arms around her chest, covering her nipples. Forget that his cock was about one inch inside her. He pulled out and stared at the tip coated with her pussy juices, momentarily mesmerized.

  “I’m sorry,” he said with a tortured groan, as he yanked off the condom and pulled on his jeans, turning his back on her to give her a measure of privacy. He heard her clothes rustle and turned when he felt her stand beside him.

  “It’s okay. I wanted it as much as you did,” she admitted.

  “No, it’s not okay. It was a big mistake.”

  “I won’t tell Izzy, as long as you don’t tell her about me singing here.”

  He nodded, feeling sick to his stomach. He’d been lusting after this woman for months and hadn’t even realized it was her in his dreams. “I’ll walk you back to the casino and call a taxi. Someone can take you to your car in the morning.”

  “Thank you,” she said, sounding pretty sober, and more like the prim, proper Emma he knew.

  Except in his nighttime fantasies.

  Then she was anything but prim and proper.

  Chapter 3—Trick Play

  Emma, ever the hopeless romantic, fell even more hopelessly in love with Tanner Wolfe. After their aborted liaison two weeks ago, she’d sat by the phone, praying he’d be as smitten as she was and ask her out on a real date. But as the hours turned into days, she forced herself to face facts. Her longstanding crush on Tanner wasn’t reciprocated. He didn’t even find her desirable enough to hook up with her for a quickie at some future point in time. At karaoke last week, she’d watched anxiously for him, certain he’d magically know where to find her and seek her out.

  He didn’t.

  She lamented her lost love who was never a love, at least not to him, and chastised herself for being stupid once again and almost letting a guy use her for sex, while she naively assumed it must be love.

  She was such an idiot. No more drinking for her. Not even a glass of wine. Alcohol messed with her common sense, which she usually had in abundance. She’d renew her vow to save he
rself for marriage and not sleep with another man before she married.

  Never. Ever. Ever again.

  Once was enough, and one almost second time was even worse. At least, Ken had pretended to love her. While she appreciated Tanner’s honesty, he didn’t see her as anything but a quick, forbidden screw with the sister of a friend—even if Emma saw him as

  “The One,” or mistook him for “The One.” After all, she’d been mistaken before.

  Emma sighed and glanced at the clock. The horses would be clamoring for their dinner, and she had karaoke tonight. She walked into the kitchen of her small apartment above the horse barn to make coffee. She’d need it tonight since she wasn’t sleeping that well and was already tired.

  Originally she’d moved into this apartment when Avery took a job for the Reynolds’ barn as the assistant trainer. Once her twin hooked up with Isaac and moved in next door, Emma assumed she’d be forced to give up the apartment. Instead Sam offered to let her stay rent free in exchange for feeding the horses five evenings a week and helping with the bookkeeping.

  Emma jumped at the chance. She loved animals and while she wasn’t a rider, she’d been around horses enough to know how to properly handle them.

  Only now this perfect situation had become imperfect and was most likely one of the reasons Tanner didn’t call. She lived too close to Tanner’s estranged brother and Carson, the Steelheads’ president, who owned and operated this very barn with his wife Sam.

  Way too small of a world.

  And way too many eyes watching everything Emma did.

  Emma’s black and white cat, Tuxedo, rubbed around her legs while she waited for the coffee to brew. After giving Tux his due, she filled a travel mug, and headed downstairs. Horses heard her and choruses of nickers and whinnies rang throughout the large barn, punctuated by the stomping of impatient feet.

  Emma went about her business, but her mind refused to stay on task and drifted to Tanner with his dancing green eyes, ready smile, and oh-so fine body. If only he’d call. Ever the optimist, she still held out a sliver of hope he’d show up for karaoke. She was flying solo tonight, but she didn’t mind. Not only would she stick to drinking water or virgin margaritas, she’d also avoid businessmen, bikers, and gorgeous football players, all with only one thing on their minds.

  The one thing that a sober Emma wouldn’t do without a ring and marriage certificate.

  * * * *

  Tanner had an affinity for trouble, but he’d always charmed his way out of it with the exception of his abusive father and asshole brothers. Unfortunately, his new coach and the team president also appeared to be immune to his charms.

  So why the hell was he asking for trouble coming to the casino tonight without his wingmen as chaperones? Not that they’d been much help two weeks ago, but, hell, they did have his back. It wasn’t their fault he’d made a detour and dragged Emma into the woods like a caveman.

  Tanner walked into the smoky casino and glanced around. It was a quiet Wednesday night, most likely because the day was warm and sunny. Most people didn’t want to spend a gorgeous Seattle evening inside, but obviously, he did. Some things were more important than a rare bout of good weather.

  Tanner scanned the scattering of people at the tables, doing a double-take when he saw golden hair spilling down a woman’s backside in silken waves. He couldn’t stop the goofy grin spreading across his face.

  Taking a deep breath, he strode toward her table with a single-minded purpose, glad to see she appeared to be alone. She was bent over a stack of karaoke slips, obviously picking out her songs for the evening. Emma pushed an errant strand of spun gold behind her ear, and Tanner focused on her profile. God, she was so incredibly beautiful.

  It wasn’t lost on him that he was lusting after a woman who was almost identical in looks to his brother’s fiancée. Weird as fuck, if you asked him, but there it was. Tanner and Isaac wrote the book on dysfunctional with a prologue by their father, so he shouldn’t be that surprised.

  And now that he recognized Emma as the mysterious blonde in his erotic dreams, he realized he’d wanted her long before his brother’s romance with Avery entered the picture.

  Tanner pulled out the chair next to Emma and sat down. She glanced up, startled, her big blue eyes wide with surprise morphing to confusion and shock. Emma ducked her head, but not before he caught the attractive blush spreading across her pretty face.

  “Hey, babe,” he said, slipping into the usual banter he reserved for females he wanted to bang, which gave him pause, but only for a moment. Tanner rarely denied himself when he found a female he wanted.

  She ignored him, shuffling through her slips of music, but her hands shook. Her nervousness encouraged him.

  “Sorry I’m late. Did you miss me?” He leaned in and inhaled her scent, like summer flowers after a soft rain. “You look lonely.”

  “I’m not lonely.” Emma lifted her gaze to meet his briefly. His insides felt funny, like gentle waves lapping on a tropical island shore. She busied herself with her slips of paper, but her brief glance told him she felt this strange connection between them, too.

  Embracing the tug of attraction, Tanner grinned at her, reaching out to wrap a strand of hair around his index finger. “Not now, you aren’t. Tanner to the rescue.”

  He took a moment to peruse her fine body, savoring the sensual trip from her face to her toes. Her outfit was more conservative this time, a simple cotton blouse and a pair of jeans, but to Tanner it was sexier than the sexy number from two weeks ago.

  She looked up again, and fire flashed in her eyes. “I don’t need rescuing.”

  He liked a woman with spunk. Combined with her shyness, it was a rare and very alluring combination.

  Damn. Alluring? Since when did he use words like alluring, especially in his private thoughts? Tanner rubbed his hands over his face. Being around her was screwing with his mind and his body, but like the fool his father always said he was, he didn’t leave. Instead he settled in for the evening and signaled the waitress for a beer.

  “What can I get you, beautiful?”

  “You can get away from me, that’s what.”

  He chuckled. She was hot when her anger overrode her shyness. “That’s not what you said two weeks ago when we almost screwed each other’s brains out on a picnic table.”

  Emma glared at him. “I was drunk, and you were taking advantage of me.”

  Tanner’s smile dropped off his face. “I—I didn’t—I mean—” He struggled for the right words but couldn’t think of any. She was right. He was an ass, and he’d been beating himself up for two weeks. He owed her an apology instead of coming onto her like some horndog sleazeball, even if he was one.

  “Of course, you did.” She stared directly into his eyes, as if she could see all the ugliness he kept so carefully hidden from the world. “You wanted a quick lay, and I was convenient.”

  Tanner squirmed, feeling like the selfish ass he was. “I’m sorry. Believe me when I tell you it was more than that.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, really? Then why didn’t you call?” Her blue eyes shot through him like a dagger, full of accusation.

  Now they were getting to the reason for her anger. He’d heard that same accusing statement from women more times than he could count. Usually he charmed them out of their anger and their clothes. Only this time was different. This time it stung and made him feel all kinds of crappy. He held out his hands, palms up, and sighed. “I didn’t think it would be a good idea.”

  “You’re right. It wasn’t, and it isn’t.”

  Tanner scratched his head. Women never ceased to confuse him. One minute she was chewing his ass for not calling and the next she was saying it was better he hadn’t.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again, deciding simple might be best.

  “Whatever.” She shrugged, sounding so much like Bella he was immediately reminded that he’d had a brief but tempestuous relationship with her older sister, which made this thing bet
ween them even more complicated.

  “Got any blanks,” he asked, pointing toward the slips spread on the table.

  She frowned at him. “Why?”

  He grinned. “I think I’ll take a turn or two at the mic.” At the raise of her eyebrow, he chuckled. “What’s the matter? Afraid I can’t carry a tune?”

  “Something like that.”

  Tanner caught the amused sparkle in her eyes and knew he stepped back on semi-friendly ground with her. “Well, sweetheart, be prepared to have your socks knocked off. This boy can sing.”

  He leaned in close until their shoulders touched, and he could feel the warmth from her body. Plucking a blank slip from the table, he stole her pen, ignoring her protests, and scrawled a song on the slip. “Be right back,” he said as he briefly left to give his slip to the DJ.

  He turned and caught her staring at him. Sliding back into his chair, he put a hand on her shoulder. “You were staring at my ass.”

  “I was not,” she shot back, but the red tinge to her face betrayed her embarrassment at being caught ogling his backside. He didn’t mind one bit. She could look all she wanted, especially if she touched later.

  Damn, but he was playing with fire, and he couldn’t seem to help himself.

  The DJ called Emma up the stage, and Tanner sat back to enjoy the show. She could sing, a rare treat among the other tone-deaf karaoke singers present. When she came back to the seat amid a smattering of applause and loud whistling and clapping from him, he tilted his head and gave her his most disarming grin.

  “You’re good. I mean crazy good. Awesome good. Your parents are in the music business, how come you don’t give it a shot? They have to have connections.”

  Emma’s eyes suddenly filled with tears, and she rubbed them viciously with a napkin. He’d hit a nerve with an innocent question, and his instant regret threw him off-balance. Tanner rarely regretted anything, except getting caught, yet he regretted making her sad.