Hart, Catherine

by Impulsive

  "Absolutely not," Corey assured her. "Now, sit up straight before I'm tempted to strap a yardstick to your back. Show those puppies off, girl!"

  Once the game got under way, Jess got caught up in the action and forgot all about her slinky new undies. Having attended OSU, she'd been a dyed-in-the-wool Buckeye fan, and had evolved into an enthusiastic football fan overall, enjoying both college and pro games. While so many women complained of being football widows on weekends and Monday nights, Jess was usually glued to her TV set, happily munching popcorn and playing "armchair quarterback." That, or freezing her buns off in Ohio State's horseshoe stadium, bravely courting pneumonia and the flu.

  Of course, this was still August, as muggy and buggy as it could get outdoors. Contrarily, while it was a relief not to have to sweat and swat mosquitos, in some inexplicable way, being ensconced in such a perfect-weather atmosphere took away from the spectator ambience somehow. All this comfort at a football match would take some getting used to, Jess supposed.

  The first quarter was slow and relatively uneventful, ending in a scoreless tie. "I realize no one wants to get injured in preseason, but this is ridiculous!" Jess griped.

  "I know," Corey agreed with a bored yawn. "You'd think they were all afraid of getting those boss uniforms dirty, as if they had to do their own laundry!"

  The team uniforms were undeniably sharp. Crimson and silver, they were designed to emulate as closely as possible the battle outfits of knights-of-old. From a distance, the jerseys actually looked as if they were made of chain-mail armor, the front of each adorned with a pair of crossed swords and the player's number on a scarlet shield. Likewise, the helmets were fashioned to resemble a knight's helmet and sported a horse's head on the sides, the symbol used in chess to designate the knight's piece. For each touchdown, sack, or other important personal achievement, a silver spur would be added, affixed to the wide band of red that encircled the outer edge of the helmet.

  Naturally, the cheerleaders had to have outfits to complement the team, though in their case a lot of liberty had been taken with the theme. Known unofficially as the Columbus Dames, the formal title given to a female member of the order of knighthood in olden days, they had chosen not to dress as "ladies." Rather, they wore short skirts, which again appeared to be made of metal, much like the skirts of tasses on a suit of armor. Their sleeveless, bare-midriff tops were cunningly cut in imitation of a breastplate. By contrast, those cute little cowgirl getups the Dallas cheerleaders wore were almost modest!

  Thankfully, the pace picked up in the second quarter, as if the players had finally gotten the feel of the field and the measure of their opponents. Moreover, the players were still vying for various slots on the teams, needing to prove to their respective coaches that they were the best men for their positions, before final cuts were made in preparation for the regular season. No one wanted to be relegated to second or third string for the year, warming the bench until a player was injured or ousted.

  The Vikings made the first touchdown, and the Columbus crowd booed their disappointment of the Knights' defense. It wasn't until the final minutes of the half that the Knights' offense caught fire. They marched steadily down the field, down by down. Then, from the Viking forty-yard line, Ty aired a bomb. Gabe "Rocket" Rome made a spectacular diving catch, landing in the end zone. With the others, Jess and Corey leapt to their feet, cheering madly. The point-after was good, and once again the quarter ended on a tie.

  Toward the end of halftime, as everyone was getting settled again for the second half, Jess noticed a couple of cheerleaders staring pointedly in their direction. One in particular seemed displeased about something. Jess nudged Corey. "Who is that redheaded Dame giving you looks that could kill?"

  Corey looked, then laughed. "Oh, that's Bambi. Isn't she a deer?" she joked. "And those daggers she's shooting are aimed at you, girlfriend, not at me."

  "Me?" Jess exclaimed. "But I haven't even met her. Why would she be mad at me?"

  "Because you've got Ty, and she wants him. Rumor has it he took her out once, before you came along. I'd say a single date wasn't enough for her. After all, in these circles, dating the starting quarterback is quite a coup, especially if you manage to hang on to him for a while."

  "I see. So my dating him automatically makes me her enemy," Jess deduced. "Seems rather sophomoric to me, but then what do I know?"

  Corey shrugged. "As they say, forewarned is forearmed. Don't be surprised if she or some of the others, out of pure jealousy, try to make trouble between you and Ty."

  That was a new concept for Jess. As far as she could recall, she couldn't name one person, particularly another female, who had ever expressed jealousy toward her. If anything, that shoe had always been on Jess's foot, envying other girls for their more attractive looks and greater popularity.

  Trying not to be obvious about it, Jess studied her "rival." Though Bambi was of average height, there was little else average about her. Her fiery hair fell in a thick tangle of curls halfway down her back. It framed an incredibly pretty face, complete with a cute little nose that made Jess feel like an aardvark by comparison. Then there was the girl's abundant chest, perhaps her most outstanding feature. Jess wondered how long it had been since Bambi had seen her own hooves... er, feet! Years, most likely.

  Not having met her, Jess didn't know how Bambi, even with that ridiculous name, measured up in the brains department. But with her other attributes, Jess supposed it didn't really matter if the woman was a certified airhead. The guys would still be stumbling over each other to gain her attention.

  As the team came back onto the field to begin the third quarter, Jess was grateful for the distraction. She'd learned years before that it did little good to dwell on her own deficiencies, though at times like this they were hard to ignore.

  The Vikings were all revved up now, and out for blood. They scored three touchdowns, adding twenty-one points, in quick succession. Try as they might, the Knights still couldn't get their act together. Because of their weak offensive line, Ty was sacked twice. When he did connect with a receiver, his teammate either dropped the ball or was hit for a loss. Finally, they did score, and even made the two-point conversion afterward.

  In the first minutes of the final quarter, the Knights' kick receiver—a lightning-fast little guy by the name of Carlos "Chili" Rodriguez—ran the ball back seventy-two yards for a spectacular touchdown. The spectators came to their feet, cheering wildly, then groaned in tandem as the kicker missed the follow-up point.

  Somehow, for the duration of the game, the defense held the Vikings from further scoring. With fifteen seconds showing on the clock, the Vikings fumbled. The Knights gained possession of the ball on their own fifty-two-yard line. It was obvious to all that with no time for anything else, this was going to be a "Hail, Mary" attempt. The Vikings went for the rush, but the Knights' defense held long enough for Ty to set his feet and throw. It was the most perfect pass Jess had ever seen, as the ball spiraled toward the end zone, hitting Shane Griffin square on the numbers. The crowd went collectively nuts.

  The score was twenty-eight, twenty-seven, in favor of the Vikings. One point would tie the game. Two would win it. It seemed every fan in the stands was shouting for the two-pointer, for though a tie would automatically send the two teams into overtime and perhaps give the Knights another chance to score, it would allot the Vikings that same opportunity.

  For reasons Jess would never understand, the head coach opted for the kick, instead. She and the rest of the crowd held their breath and prayed. All for naught. The kick went wide to the right as the clock ticked down to zero. The game was over, lost by one lousy point. Rather, as Jess saw it, lost by two missed kicks by the most inept kicker she'd ever had the misfortune to witness.

  What they had hoped would be a victory party turned out to be a pity party at the Romes' house. Several of the major players and their partners gathered there to commiserate with each other. The coaches and team owners were noticeably a
bsent, as was the shame-faced kicker. Though Jess had tried to back out as well, Corey was having none of it. Moreover, Jess was still supposed to be Ty's current flame, and was therefore expected to show up to lend her fellow a sympathetic shoulder.

  "We almost did it, dammit!" one disgruntled player grumbled, aping the various comments of his comrades. "I could throttle that Alan Crumrine! What the hell did that boy do, put his shoes on the wrong feet?"

  "More likely, he screwed his head on backwards," a running back offered. "Sort of like our little Destiny here." He hugged the cheerleader to his side, ruffling her hair affectionately.

  "I resent that remark," she piped up.

  "No, you resemble that remark," Dino told her with a chuckle. "Come to think of it, so does our deer Bambi."

  Bambi struck an offended pose, her lower lip projecting in a sultry pout. "As if you're some sort of genius, Sherwood. I saw you fumble that ball tonight. Maybe you ought to try Super Glue next week."

  Dino shook his head. "Nah. I might get high on it, like you do, carrot-top. Warp my fantastic brain cells."

  "Get a life, you creep," she shot back.

  Gabriel Rome chuckled. "Better watch it, Dino, or Bambi will whack off your ponytail. You don't want to lose your talent like Samson lost his strength when Delilah cut his hair short."

  "God forbid!" someone else put in. "Lord knows we need all the talent we can muster right now, and then some."

  "I vote we let the cheerleaders play the next game," Heidi suggested with a sneer. "We sure couldn't do any worse than you guys have been."

  "Right!" came the derisive reply from a linebacker. "And what're you gonna use for muscle? Boobs, maybe?"

  "Good idea," Shasta said, thrusting out her ample chest. "We might do better with these than you big apes do with your hammy thighs and beer bellies."

  "Hey, woman! I've worked hard for this excellent physique," Sir Loin Simms objected. He patted his protruding stomach. "I've got a lot of pasta and beef invested here. You ought to learn the difference between fat and muscle."

  "Well, buddy, this is muscle," Shasta contended, bringing her arms in to her sides to accentuate her cleavage.

  The cheerleaders all nodded, each mimicking Shasta.

  "I'd wager there are more rubber bumpers here than there were in the parking lot tonight!" Jack Hays proposed on a brusque laugh.

  "More silicone, anyway," Corey muttered in disgust.

  "Or maybe they just used Miracle Grow," Ty suggested, winking at Jess, as if they shared a private joke.

  Jess was not amused at his comment, particularly since she wasn't sure his jest wasn't aimed at her. She was sure he'd noticed her improved figure, and wondered if he wasn't poking fun at her. Anger and embarrassment combined to render her pink-faced and momentarily speechless.

  At the same time, Bambi, ignoring Jess entirely, approached Ty and wantonly pressed her chest against his. "Now, honey," she purred silkily, batting her long lashes at him, "you know these are the genuine article. Every single morsel. Heaven knows you inspected them thoroughly enough, and I've still got the love bites to prove it!"

  Despite himself, Ty felt a blush creeping up his neck. The damned brazen hussy! So he did get into a hot and heavy petting session with her the one night they had gone out! Did she have to announce it to the whole world? Right here in front of Jess, to boot?

  He stared down at Bambi, his gaze stony and unblinking, as he took her arm and put her away from him. A humorless smirk slanted his lips as he said softly, but audibly, "Trouble is, Bambi, a man might suffocate in all that surplus flesh. I wouldn't care to risk it again. I'm just thankful we stopped at the preliminary stages, or you might have smothered me. Besides, I've been saving myself for Jess."

  Sporadic chuckles broke out, tentative at first, then heartier as Ty's friends overcame their initial discomfort and rallied around him.

  "Saving yourself for Jess? That's a good one, T.D."

  "Can I get that on tape?" someone else hooted.

  As Bambi stalked off in a huff, Gabe walked up, slapped his pal on the back, and teased, "Yeah, Ty. I always did suspect you were as pure as a lily. That must be why you're so uptight most of the time. Jess, you ought to help him loosen up a little. Maybe it'll improve his timing."

  Corey took pity on her new friend, who now looked as if she'd been dipped in poppy red paint. "Cool it, guys. Especially you, Gabe. You're embarrassing Jess. She's not used to your ribald humor the way I am."

  She looped an arm across Jess's shoulders. "Come on, gal. Let's go rustle up some chips and dip and other goodies while these yahoos fire up the barbecue grill."

  Corey then turned and surveyed her guests, her lilac-gray eyes glittering. Her perfectly sculpted face, with its flawless café-au-lait complexion, took on a regal expression, one that had graced the covers of magazines the world over. "Ladies, feel free to join us. You'll note I used the word ladies. Those of you who must behave like ho-bags, feel free to leave or shape up, whichever suits you, but in my home I reserve the right to set high standards of decorum. Abide by them, or don't bother to darken my door until you can."

  Jess and several other women followed their hostess into the kitchen. "You didn't have to say that on my account," Jess told her.

  "I didn't do it for your sake alone," Corey assured her. "I simply won't abide bad behavior in my own house. That goes for the guys as well as the women, and everyone might just as well learn the guidelines from the start."

  "Then maybe you'd better post a list of no-no's," Shannon Baxter suggested wryly. "I'm sure there are people here who wouldn't know proper manners if they stumbled over them."

  Corey merely laughed and fluttered her brightly manicured fingers in a nonchalant manner. "They'll learn fairly quickly what I will tolerate and what I won't. Believe me, Gabe and I have been through this before, with other teams in other cities. I'm an old hand at reforming the irreformable, and at politely booting the rest out."

  The party went smoothly from that point on. Bambi and a couple of her cohorts had opted to depart the premises, but most of the guests had remained and were on their best behavior.

  Jess actually enjoyed herself, despite the fact that she was totally miffed at Ty. Not only had he put her on the defensive with that remark about Miracle Grow and that oh-so-obvious wink at her, but all evening she'd caught him stealing glances at her when he thought she didn't notice—looks she could swear were aimed at her chest more often than her face. But what really rubbed a raw spot was knowing that the rotten lecher had not only dated Bimbo Bambi, but hadn't denied fondling the cheerleader's bountiful assets. Sure, he'd claimed it hadn't gone far, and had also professed to prefer Jess, but she knew that was all for show, part of the act to convince everyone that they were a couple. In reality, he was one of countless men Jess had met who would choose boobs over brains any day of the week.

  The gathering broke up around midnight. After thanking Gabe and Corey for their hospitality, Jess headed for her car. She was halfway down the walk when Ty caught up with her. "Hey! Wait up. Don't I even get a goodbye kiss?"

  Jess rounded on him, her face furious. "I'll tell you what you can kiss, mister," she snarled. "A maggot-infested garbage can!"

  Ty held up his palms and backed off a step. "Whoa! You're really ticked! Care to tell me why?"

  "As if you didn't know, you swine!" she hissed. "How dare you humiliate me like that in front of all those people! Staring at my chest! Making snide remarks about Miracle Grow! But I guess I shouldn't expect any better from a man who has the temerity to publicly admit dating someone named Bambi."

  He had the gall to grin. "So that's what has your britches in a bind! You're jealous!"

  "Oh, grow some brains, James! Preferably somewhere other than in your pants!"

  "As soon as you cultivate a sense of humor," he countered bluntly. "You're entirely too sensitive, Miss Know-It-All. That Miracle Grow comment was made as a joke between you and me, a silly dig at Bambi and company. It was not
in any way meant as an insult to you or to divulge your intimate secrets."

  "You're doing it again," she stated testily.

  "Doing what?"

  "You're staring at my breasts, you oversexed beast!"

  "Well, hell!" he exclaimed with exasperation. "I'm a man. All normal, red-blooded, sighted men do it. Furthermore, you can't tell me women don't check out a guy's physique."

  She offered a nasty smirk. "Of course we do, but we do try to make eye contact once in a while during the course of a conversation, if only for propriety's sake."

  In a move that took her completely by surprise, Ty stepped closer, raising his hands and clasping them around her midriff. His palms skimmed her ribs, coming to rest along the curve of her breasts. Despite the barrier of her knit top, his fingers found the outline of her bra beneath it, brushing over the lace-adorned cups. As his thumbs whispered across her nipples, even through two layers of cloth, Jess shivered. She stood spellbound as his mouth lowered toward hers.

  "Lace," he murmured. "Over silk?"

  "S... satin," she stammered, her mouth suddenly desert-dry.

  His mouth brushed hers, so lightly she might have imagined it. "What color?"

  "Peach."

  "I love peaches," he claimed huskily.

  "I could be wrong. It might be apricot," she said breathlessly.

  "Sounds delicious."

  His thumbs grazed the aroused peaks again. Jess quivered anew, her sigh melting against his lips as they claimed hers. His kiss was hot, inviting and demanding in like measure. His tongue traced her lips, exploring their shape, their texture, then slipped between them to leisurely twine with hers. His lips sipped at hers, learning her taste.

  The ground tilted beneath Jess's feet, but Ty's arm was there to keep her from falling. He pulled her close, allowing only enough space between them for his hand to cradle her breast, for his fingers to ply their skillful magic on the dimpled crest. His lips and tongue teased, advancing and retreating, until Jess caught his head between her hands and anchored his mouth to hers. A groan rumbled in his chest as her tongue slid seductively past his teeth, initiating her own bold foray into his mouth.