Al Trunk Mahoney, Defensive Line

by Jean C. Joachim

  He slid his hands under her robe and around back and down to her rear. He squeezed it, pressing her into him. She lowered her arms, allowing the roomy garment to drop.

  “Oh, God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, stepping back to stare.

  “So are you.” Her gaze traveled over his form, settling on his shaft, which stood at attention. The sight of him made her ache.

  His fingers closed over her breasts, kneading the flesh and pinching her peaks. He groaned as his erection poked at her entrance, begging for admission. The second he touched her, a fire ignited inside. She’d dreamt of this moment a hundred times, a thousand times. But the dreams were nothing compared to the reality.

  Every nerve ending was on high alert. She felt his hip bones, his chest muscles, his thigh muscles, as well as his hands. Then, his mouth again. He crushed her to him, squeezing out all the emotion, the love she’d bottled up for years. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, her hands wandered, ending up on his butt. It was perfect.

  Finally, she pulled back. “It’s freezing here. Why don’t we take this to my room?”

  He smiled as she turned and took his hand. “Great view,” he muttered, making her grin.

  Once inside her room, he tossed her on the bed as if she were a sack of laundry then followed, on all fours, like a panther on the prowl.

  She sat up. “I’m on the pill, so nothing to worry about.”

  He stopped, frowned, nodded, and then trained his lusty gaze on her body. “I’ve wanted you for years,” he admitted, easing her back down.

  “You have?” she squeaked.

  “Didn’t you feel it? I thought it was plain as day.” He brought his lips down to her chest.

  “Oh, God,” she murmured, arching her back, pushing herself further into his mouth.

  Suddenly, he raised his head. “You’re not gay, are you? Not a lesbian?”

  Carla looked at him as if he had three heads and burst out laughing. “Absolutely not. Nope. No way. I’m into male equipment all the way. What a strange question. Why’d you ask?”

  “Because Mary is, and I didn’t even know it.”

  She gasped, sucking in air. “No wonder you’re upset. What a secret!”

  “You’re telling me!” He shook his head. “No more wasting time.”

  Trunk trained his full attention on Carla. He touched every inch of her, marveling out loud at the smoothness of her skin. She ran her fingers through his short hair. Trunk slipped his palm down her shoulder, over her chest and abdomen, to her thigh. His big paw wrapped around her slender muscle. He caressed the tender flesh, inching his hand up, until his thumb made contact with her core.

  If her toe had been joined with a light socket, she couldn’t have had a stronger jolt.

  He glanced up as her hips bucked under his caresses. “Like that?”

  She nodded rapidly, unable to speak. Trunk knelt down and replaced his thumb with his tongue. Carla arched up off the bed. He fastened his big hands around her, drawing her to him, and continued, relentlessly, until she exploded in the biggest orgasm of her life. A brilliant kaleidoscope of colors flew by her closed eyelids.

  When she opened, his eyes were dark with lust as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and raised up to his knees. She ran her tongue over her lips to taste him again as her eyes feasted on his torso.

  “You do that, makes me crazy.”

  She giggled. “Then, I’ll do it again.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said, capturing her mouth with his. He cut the kiss short. “My turn.” He lifted one of her legs high then pushed her knee to her chest.

  She reached down, closing her fingers around him. He was hard as a rock, but his skin was silky smooth.

  “I can handle this.” He removed her hand then rubbed himself up and down her slowly, wetting his erection with her juices. Giving a little push, he was inside. He took a breath and gazed into her eyes. “Everything okay?”

  “Stop asking and just do it!”

  “Want me?”

  “I’ve wanted you for ages. Do I have to beg?”

  He chuckled. “Would you?”

  “Yes, yes, anything. Please!”

  He began to move. Carla had watched him play, seen him run, and tackle, but she’d had no idea he could move in such an erotic way. He thrust in, pulled out, pushed in again, then circled his hips, grinding inside her. The sensation was off the charts.

  She lay back, putty in his hands. He was in total control, and the look on his face was one of pure joy.

  “Gonna take you to the moon, baby,” he muttered, bracing himself.

  Around the world he went. Carla closed her eyes and surrendered to another overwhelming orgasm. She screamed his name as her hips undulated rhythmically with his. He kept moving, and sweat broke out on his forehead and back. She cracked open her eyelids as red was stealing up his torso. Sex flush.

  “Oh, baby. Honey. Oh my God.” He shut his eyes, thrust into her hard, and stopped. His chest heaved in and out. Carla flattened her palm against it, thrilling to the feel of hard muscle. He dropped his forehead to rest against hers. His breath smelled sweet, like café au lait. She ran her hand along his stubbly cheek, her thumb stroked his jawline.

  Emotion welled in her chest. She wanted to cry, but held back, feeling foolish. Why would you cry after the world’s greatest sex? She couldn’t will the sensation away. Her heart swelled with love for Al. Pushing negative thoughts out of her mind, she went with it, caressing his lower back, kissing his neck. The salty taste of him reminded her that they had just made love.

  Love. That’s what it was, had been, is—love. She loved him, had for a long time, and no amount of wishing it weren’t so could change it. Would she get dumped by him when she told him she didn’t want kids? Probably. But life was full of risks, and falling for Al Mahoney was one of them.

  He looked up at her, only inches away. She ran her fingers through his short, brown hair, combing it back into shape. He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm.

  “That was amazing, Al. Best ever.”

  “You’re not just saying that, are you?” His brow furrowed.

  “Come on, you know me. I don’t do that. Too truthful for my own good.”

  “Okay. Right. It was, huh?”

  She nodded.

  He brushed her lips with his. “You’re a sweetheart, Carla.”

  She adored the look on his face, so loving. Does he love me back? Maybe. Until he finds out. Then, we’ll be done. Carla stroked his rough cheek, kissed it, and stared into his eyes. Were they like crystal balls, telling her they had a future together, or were they prophets of doom, telling her she’d end up with a broken heart?

  Al pushed up and pulled out of her. He lay on his side, his arm bent to support his head. “Sex with a woman who likes men is so much better.”

  “This is a contest now?”

  “Just sayin’”

  “I know what you’re doing. Comparing Mary and me. Don’t go there.”

  “Okay, okay. Don’t get all huffy.”

  Her ire rose. “I’ll get huffy if I want to.”

  Trunk leaned over, grabbed her wrists in his massive fist, and held them above her head, subduing her, and brought his face up close to hers. “You’re nothing like her. Never could be. You’re amazing, the best. She can’t hold candle to you in any way. So, don’t get fuckin’ insecure on me. Let me talk without you getting nuts about it, okay?” Then, he kissed her, hard.

  “Okay,” she said, in a small voice. Might be as close as he can get to saying he loves me.

  He released her. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “I’m okay.” She glanced at the clock. Nine-thirty. Carla yawned and rolled to face Trunk. He hugged her. “Don’t you have practice?” She snuggled closer, resting her head on his shoulder.

  “I’ve got time.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He smelled of soap, sweat, and his own unique scent.
She smiled.

  “I might be stinky after all that loving.”

  “You’re fine.”

  “You smell great.” He sniffed her hair. “Special shampoo?”

  “A woman doesn’t tell her secrets,” she said, snaking her arm around him.

  They lay quietly for a while. She listened to the beat of his heart, which acted like a tranquilizer. That and the two earth-shattering orgasms had her so relaxed, she didn’t care if the house fell down around her. Imagine falling asleep to this every night. She sighed.

  Al stroked her back and pulled the covers up over them. He kissed the top of her head and held her to him, as if he was afraid to let her go. His grip sent waves of safety through her.

  “I could stay like this all day,” she murmured.

  “I could stay like this for twenty years,” he replied.

  On some level, her brain heard his comment and began to react, but her heart shut it down, simply allowing her to smile and not overthink.

  * * * *

  At ten o’clock, Trunk rolled over and groaned. “If I don’t get my ass to practice, I’m gonna get fined.”

  Carla removed her arm from his waist and lay back on the bed.

  He stared at her chest then touched her, unable to resist. “You’re one fine woman,” he said, gliding his hand along her breast, stopping to kiss it.

  “And you’re one fine-looking man.” The gaze from her dark eyes roamed over him, leaving heat in their wake.

  He threw aside the covers and swung his legs over the side. Pushing up, he turned. Never had it been this hard to leave a woman before. Carla lay there, her skin peaches and cream, her hair mussed, dark and unruly like passion itself, and her lips pink from being kissed hard.

  “Wish I could stay, sweetheart.”

  “I understand.”

  “When I get back, can we do this again?”

  She grinned, shooting a sly, sexy smile at him. He felt a twinge between his legs. No time for that now. He padded down the hall, stopping to retrieve his towel still lying where it had fallen, revealing him to her eyes. Once in his room, there was no time to shower again. He threw on sweats and shoes and was out the door.

  She stood in her doorway, outlined by the fluffy robe. It wasn’t sashed, so she was naked for his eyes and his eyes only. He gulped. If ever he’d had an irresistible invitation, this was it.

  “Bye, beautiful.”

  Coach Bass fined players for being late to practice, so Trunk couldn’t stop. Summoning all his willpower, Al blew her a kiss, raised his hand in a wave, and went down the stairs as fast as he could, before he changed his mind.

  After dumping his stuff in his locker, he hit the treadmill. He had energy, his step was springy, and he felt light on his feet. Memories of his tryst with Carla breezed through his mind, leaving a smile on his face as he loped along, warming up. He didn’t notice the funny looks or comments coming from his teammates. He was in the zone.

  “Someone’s happy today,” Griff said, picking up a single barbell.

  “I think someone got laid,” Buddy replied.

  “That’s it! I couldn’t place it. Yep. Trunk got it last night,” Bull put in.

  “Who’s the lucky lady?” Devon Drake asked.

  Truck sensed the blush in his face. “You boys know I don’t kiss and tell.”

  “Who’s talking about kissing? I don’t give a shit who you were kissing. Who were you banging?” Griff asked.

  The men laughed, but Trunk just cranked up the speed on his machine.

  “He’s embarrassed. Must be someone we know,” Bull said.

  “Hmm, Chrissy?” Buddy ventured.

  “Shut the fuck up, guys.”

  “I thought she was banging Anthony,” Bull countered.

  “That was last season,” Devon corrected. “You’re always behind on these things.”

  “Come on, Trunk,” Buddy implored.

  “Shut the fuck up,” the defenseman repeated, through tight lips.

  “Let’s see, he’s staying at The Savage Beast. Must be Carla!” Devon said.

  Trunk wanted to deck the cornerback.

  “Nah. Are you kidding? Carla? She’s way too picky to settle for Trunk,” Griff said.

  Trunk let out a breath and slowed his treadmill to a walk. Thank God. If they had guessed, he’d have been in a pickle. Anyone who made fun of Carla would have to be punched out. And he’d hate to mess up any of his teammates.

  The guys moved on.

  “Does Tuffer Demson have a girlfriend?” Bull asked.

  “I thought I saw a cow in the field. I think she was waiting for him.” Buddy snickered.

  “That’s a step up from the goat waiting by his car after the last game,” Bull added.

  “She was pretty, for a goat.” Devon laughed.

  Coach stuck his head in. “On the field, guys. Practice in ten.”

  The men returned to the locker room for warm-up jackets. All except Griff and Trunk. The quarterback grabbed the defenseman by the shoulder.

  “Can I talk to you?”

  “Sure, Griff. What’s up?”

  “I know you’re sleeping with Carla. I didn’t say anything in front of the guys, because I don’t want them trash talking her.”

  Trunk’s stomach clenched.

  “I know she’s got a thing for you. She told me a while ago,” Griff continued.

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “You were married. Happily, I thought. Let sleeping dogs lie, ya know?”

  “And now?”

  “I was with Carla before she met you.”

  “You were the one?”

  Griff nodded. “I care about her.”

  “You’re married, great wife, couple of kids.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I love my wife. There’s no one better than Lauren, and I’d never cheat on her, hurt her, or leave her. But Carla is a special friend. So, I’m warning you. If you ever break her heart or do her any harm, I’ll make you regret it. Get it?”

  “Hey, nothing to worry about. She’s everything to me.”

  “Do you love her?”

  “Can’t help it.”

  “Okay, then. Be good to her or answer to me.”

  “I’ll take good care of her. I promise.”

  “You’re a lucky man.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Griff slapped Trunk on the back, and the two men went out onto the field.

  Chapter Eight

  On the plane to Nebraska, Griff, Buddy, and Tuffer played cards. Lawson Breaker read a book. Trunk couldn’t sit still. He missed Carla already. They’d had one more steamy night together before he’d had to report to the stadium for the trip west. The second night assured him that the chemistry they shared wasn’t a fluke. Maybe it was real. But it was too soon to tell.

  He didn’t want to think about what would happen when he told her the truth about his infertility. He tried to bury it, but it kept coming back. He needed to focus on football and forget about the possibility that he was heading for heartbreak at one hundred miles an hour.

  Coach Bass called Griff, Tuffer, and Trunk together for a meeting.

  “Nebraska’s got a new quarterback. Seems Taylor broke his collarbone. He’s out of the picture. The new guy, Clement Wills, is big. He’s six four, but not husky. And he’s good, from what I hear,” Coach said. “Be prepared. They’re gonna protect the hell out of this guy ‘cause they’ve got no back up. May be some asshole they got in a bad trade, but no first string. Your job is gonna be harder.”

  “We can handle whatever they’ve got,” Tuffer assured.

  “Don’t be a smartass. Nobody likes a smartass,” Coach said.

  “Thanks for the heads-up, Coach. We got this,” Trunk put in.

  “We’re counting on you,” Pete replied.

  The plane landed on a thirty degree day, with sunny skies. They had been told it could go down to single digits in the morning. Trunk said a thank-you prayer they’d be playing at one i
n the afternoon. He was also grateful that Nebraska was only one hour behind. Adjusting to bigger time changes was a pain. This, he could handle.

  The bus took the team to the best hotel in Omaha. Trunk smiled when he saw the king-size bed. He needed room, and this was perfect. The rest was clean and spacious, with a great view of downtown. He wished Carla could share it with him. He turned on the television and opened his suitcase. He always unpacked and settled in before the game. They’d be playing tomorrow, so he had one night to relax.

  He was surprised to find a navy blue muffler sitting on top of his neatly packed clothes. It wasn’t his. He picked it up. The wool was soft, not scratchy. He slung it around his neck then returned to checking out the bag. There was a small note tucked under a pair of socks.

  I hear its damn cold in Nebraska this time of year. This should keep you warm.

  Carla

  “You could keep me warm a lot better.” He snickered. Still, he fingered the gift, his heart swelling. She’d been thinking about him, worrying about him and the weather. That was new. No one had ever worried about him but him. He smiled. I could get used to this.

  Coach had arranged for them to arrive early, so the team could acclimate to their new environs a bit and be rested for the game. No one objected to spending a bit of extra time on the road, as they were treated like the kings they were and didn’t have to pay for food or hotels.

  Trunk opened a bottle of water, sat in the comfortable chair, and swiveled to face the big window. Strip club tonight? Mary won’t be calling. I don’t have to give a damn.

  “Hey, asshole! You in there?” A booming voice interrupted his thoughts. It was Bull.

  Trunk opened the door to his friend.

  Bull charged in and sat down in the chair Trunk had been occupying. “Let’s go to a movie tonight.”