Encroachment (Coach's Shadow Trilogy #2)

by Monica DeSimone

  “So, yeah, well…”

  “Oh for Christ’s sake, Zoey, spit it out already.”

  With a deep breath, my sister proceeds to blow my mind. “You know Sash is dancing at a strip club, right?”

  My foot slips off the brake and I lurch forward before I slam on the brake again. “I’m sorry? What? Is this a fucking joke, Zo?” I maneuver my little Prius Hybrid over to the shoulder. “You know what, hold on a second. Let me pull over. Because having a fucking captive audience is different than telling your sister that her child is stripping while she’s operating heavy machinery! What the fuck, Zoey.”

  Coming to a complete stop on the shoulder, I carry on with my rant, “No, Zoey, I wasn’t aware that Sasha is dancing. God damn it, I should have never allowed those ballet classes.” I drop my head onto the steering wheel and bang my forehead against it once, twice, and a third time before I admit in a whisper, “Sash isn’t talking to me. But this explains why she’s been avoiding me.”

  “I’m sorry, did I hear you correctly? Your daughter, the only other person in this world you smother more than me, isn’t speaking to you? You’re relentless when it comes to our girl, Claire.” Zoey pauses and I bang my head on the steering wheel a couple more times. “Just as an FYI, Sasha has been dancing at Lace for over a month.”

  “What! Christ, this isn’t a hypothetical, you’re really telling me that my kid is dancing at a fucking strip joint?” Throwing my head back onto the headrest, I berate myself for being a shitty mother.

  “Claire, you do realize that this is her way of rebelling.”

  “Thank you for the insight, Zoey. You’ve been a mother for like what, two fucking minutes!”

  “Language! And fuck you, I helped raise that kid too.”

  “Obviously, the tattoos and stripping are all you.”

  “Again, fuck you. God don’t like ugly, Claire. Remember that.”

  “Whatever!”

  “Sasha’s been so angry since Mac passed. She loved the old man. Add in her confusion toward life in general, and this is her way of rebelling. And quite frankly, her new boss seems to be messing with her head. I need to have Suz check into that one, because my skin crawls when he’s around.”

  Taking a deep breath, Zoey continues. “You just have to ignore it, Claire. Pretend as though it doesn’t even affect you. Otherwise you’re going to push her even further away. She’s too much like you in that regard.”

  “Thank you, Zoey, but the fact that you want me to ignore Sash taking her clothes off for…for…Christ, is it for a living or for fucking fun? Regardless, I can’t ignore it. No, I’m sorry, Zo, that’s just not something that I am capable of!” I’m now screaming at my sister and garnering attention from passing cars.

  Zoey’s voice is calm, and that’s when I know I need to look for traps. “Claire, if you don’t, you’re going to lose her.”

  “Tell me, Zoey. Why are you the one telling me this, and over the phone?”

  “I love you, Claire. You know this. But, I’m a new mother and have two babies that need both their mother and father. So, there was no way on this earth I was going to tell you this in person.”

  “Fucking coward!”

  “You bet your ass I am.”

  “You think this is funny? That Sasha’s life is a joke?” I am now full on screaming.

  “Bear, just calm down.”

  “Calm down? CALM DOWN! I don’t think you realize the severity of this! The embarrassment! Christ, that’s all we need. A McEvoy stripping.” Taking a deep breath, I hear my sister laughing. “Are you laughing? Zoey! This isn’t fucking funny.”

  Hiding her amusement, poorly, Zoey says, “No, Claire, this isn’t funny.”

  “I have the new VP pushing my buttons at work. Jackson is coming by tonight to finish what we started weeks ago, and now my kid is stripping. What did I do wrong!” I slam my head against the steering wheel again in the hope that it completes the damage my sister’s words have just inflected.

  “I’m sorry. I’m ignoring all but the Jack is coming by to fuck you comment. Hold on a sec, okay? I’m gonna conference Suz in.” Giggling, Zoey clicks over and I’m put on hold.

  I hit my head again on the steering wheel and pray for brain damage, because honestly, I couldn’t make this shit up.

  Jackson

  PULLING OUT OF the stadium, I can hardly contain my excitement for my destination. I have had a raging hard-on for weeks. No matter how many times I have self-satisfied, the only thing that will truly quench my cock’s and my thirst is Claire’s hot, warm sheath. I push my ‘67 Chevy Silverado to the brink, my only thought is getting to my girl.

  As I drive further into Bergen County, I reflect on the past month and realize that I need to check on what Brad has been up to. I’ve noticed that Sasha seems to be pulling away from her mother and Claire doesn’t know how to handle that, but is ignoring it instead. She’s a drive-a-Mac-truck-through-issues kind of girl and avoidance only confuses her more. In that we are a matching set. Ambiguity never worked well for me. I think that’s why I love computers so much. Black and white. Whole numbers. There is no gray with them. If there is a problem, I can solve it with my computer.

  Claire’s father ultimately understood that about me. I don’t lie, I don’t run from adversity, and I love with all my heart. Life for me is like my computers. Black and white. I take care of what’s mine and protect the family. Claire and Sasha have been my family since before Sash was even born. Now I just need to convince Claire that she needs me just as desperately as I need her.

  Pulling my old truck into Claire’s driveway, I get a sense of pleasure when I see the front porch left on. I figured that I’d have to sweet talk my way in tonight. The fact that it is on, waiting for my arrival is…satisfying. My girl isn’t shutting me out.

  I get out of the truck and make my way up the front walk. When I almost reach the front door, I notice two beautiful Harley Davidsons three houses down with the riders still on them. Thinking it is odd but not really thinking much of it, I move to grab the handle and push my way inside. Unlike the recent past, the door is locked. Muttering that it’s about time, I ring the doorbell.

  Dallas is barking and making her way to the door as I stand here waiting for Legs to answer. After two minutes of constant barking, I ring the doorbell again and this time add my fist to the door, pounding. My patience is starting to wane and I begin to feel a tiny prickle of unease rise up my neck. Looking around, I notice that the two men on the motorcycles wake their rides to life.

  With the motorcycles now gone, Dallas’ barking is becoming annoying. Giving up the ghost at the front door, I walk around to the gate on the side of the house and walk through into the backyard.

  Approaching the back door, I notice every light in the house is on and my heart lightens a little. But as I reach the door, I notice Claire, on the floor by the island, and panic sets in. The only thing I can think about is getting to my woman. I grab my wallet from my back pocket and pull out a credit card, and slide it between the door and its frame. With a quick swipe downward, a little wiggle and shove, the door pops open.

  I rush in to the kitchen with a barking Dallas refusing to leave her mom’s side. Kneeling down, I scoop Legs up in my arms and get an overpowering whiff of alcohol. I get a good glimpse of the room and notice the vodka bottle on the counter. Western Son vodka is a ten times distilled liquor that has even knocked me on my ass a time or two.

  “Legs!” I shake Claire, trying to bring her back to consciousness. Slowly she opens her eyes and then they roll back up into her head. “Baby? You with me?” I shake her not at all gently because I’m freaking out. Another shake has her head lolling back. And yet another shake has me screaming her name. “Claire!”

  “Stop, Jackson! Christ get off!” she slurs in response, along with a very limp shove to my chest.

  “You’re lit! What the fuck happened after I saw you?”

  “Go home, Jackson.”

  “No.”
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  Pulling both of us up to our feet, I have to hold on to Claire around her waist to keep her vertical. She tosses her head back in defiance and looks at me. “What is your problem?”

  “You are, Legs.” Caging her between my arms and the kitchen island, she is heaving, and I must be a sick bastard because the scent of Claire, vodka and lime is really working for me. Really working for me.

  “You know I might be tipsy, but this,” she says as she moves her hands from my forearms to my chest, “is beautiful.” With a hiccup, she starts to giggle.

  Claire’s giggle only notches up my desire for her even more. I have never seen Claire drink to the point of no control. She likes to be in command at all times. Something must have happened. And damn if her letting go doesn’t turn me on. Glazed eyes, red cheeks and nose, along with her wandering hands, only proves that Claire isn’t her normal self. Her touch is electric and brings forth my desire to protect.

  “You are physically perfect, Jack. I love watching you work out. I watch more than I should.” Claire’s hands have found their way down and around to my lower back, and I am so enthralled by her words and the look on her face that I don’t even know how it has happened. “But my favorite part of you, Jackson, besides your kind smile and gentle eyes that have never judged me…is this.” She squeezes my ass, and I moan, because hello, Claire is touching me in a way that I never thought she would do without a lot of provocation. She continues on with her wandering hands and words that only shock me more while leaning further into my chest. “I love this. Love watching you run out onto the field. The way you trot out there, I can find you just by your distinctive gate.”

  Claire’s eyes twinkle with a mischief I haven’t seen from her. “Jesus, woman, you have to stop.” I move my hands to cover hers with my own and cage them between our bodies so that they can no longer wander. I’m a patient man, I am, but Claire is testing my resolve to take things slowly.

  “Are you afraid of me, Jackson?” she says while leaning in and licking her delicious lips.

  “Not in the least, Legs.” I take a step back before I eat her whole, only proving that I am indeed afraid of her.

  Laughing at my discomfort, Claire pokes me in the chest. “I think you are,” she all but sings in my face.

  “Come on, Legs, let’s get you to bed,” I say as I move away and let her hands go so that I can help her upstairs to bed.

  Wrapping her arms around my neck and running her tongue up the side of my throat, she moans. “That’s just what I was thinking, Jack. Let’s get us to bed.”

  Groaning, and with the sudden need to adjust my now hard as steel cock, I move myself out of Claire’s grasp. “Woman, you are testing me. I’m trying to be good and not push you too far too fast.” I place a hand on her cheek. “You need gentle, Claire, and I need to be able to give you that.”

  Claire’s eyes are no longer just glazed over from too much liquor, they now shine with the haze of passion as well. Covering my hand with her own, she says, “I want you, Jack. However, you need it. Gentle, rough, hard. I just want you.” She looks down for a moment and then back up at me. “Please, Jackson?”

  It’s the Jackson that breaks my resolve. My girl wants, no needs, me and I’ll be damned if she suffers. Looking into her stunning green eyes, I ask, “You sure about this, Legs? No regrets tomorrow?”

  In an attempt to lighten the mood, she laughs. “The one thing that you don’t know about me, Jack, is that once my mind is made up, I stick to it. No, there will be no regrets tomorrow, or the day after. Only the promise of what I have longed for my entire life.”

  Leaning in to kiss her luscious lips, I place my forehead to hers, my hand still on her face. “It’s always been you for me. Since the moment I saw those legs all those years ago, it has always been you.”

  With a tenderness that I didn’t think that I was capable of, I pick my girl up. Her inexperience has this move literally standing in my arms with her feet dangling off the ground. It’s at that moment that it sinks in just how truly innocent Claire is. “Wrap those amazing legs around my waist, Claire.” And to my surprise she does. No questions or arguments.

  Walking through the house to the staircase, I never let my eyes leave hers. “I’m going to do my best to be as gentle as I possibly can. But, God, you feel so good in my hands right now.”

  “I can walk you know. You don’t have to carry me.” She squirms in an attempt to get down, and my cock jerks. “Besides, I’m probably too heavy anyway.”

  Hiking her up so that her core is in direct contact with my cock garners a moan out of the both of us. “Christ, woman, you’re a willow. Trust me, carrying you isn’t a hardship. Especially since I can feel the heat coming off of your pussy.”

  Thinking that my language is going to get me smacked, I cringe. It doesn’t. Claire’s head rolls back on her shoulders and she moans, letting me know that my girl likes a little bit of dirty talk. And I’m even harder.

  Doing my best to not think about finally making love to this woman and failing, I reach the top step and turn toward the master bedroom. Coming out of whatever passion filled haze she has been in, Claire kisses my lips. As with past kisses we have shared, all sense of time and space cease to exist, leaving me to hold on and enjoy the kiss.

  Somewhere along the way, my Claire has melted and become a live wire that is anything but the staid, controlled woman everyone knows. Her hands are in my hair, she is writhing and all but crawling up my torso. She is a light and glowing from passion. And I love that it’s me she melts for. Let’s loose with.

  Finally getting my brain and legs on the same page, I continue down the hallway and into Claire’s bedroom. Placing her on the bed, I unwind her legs from around my waist, and shove off the bed, away from the human torch laid out before me.

  Claire scrambles toward me, and reaches out. “Jack?”

  She’s on all fours and facing me, and I see the panic start to rise in her eyes. Stepping back toward her, I reach out and touch her face. I lean down so that we are eye level, and say, “Second thoughts, Legs?”

  “No, I thought you were having them.”

  Claire

  THE SECOND JACKSON moved away, the heat that had been encompassing me evaporated and I panicked. The fire that has been building inside me suddenly gone. I’m unable to explain what it is I need, and that need terrifies me. Afraid of what is to come but even more so that it won’t confuses me.

  Jackson’s touch has the fire back and my fears dissipate. I feel safe with him. I always have. Knowing that that is the reason why I never had an intimate relationship before, I never felt safe with anyone other than my girls, I snuggle closer into his touch.

  “What do you need from me, Claire?”

  “You, Jackson. Only you.”

  Both of his hands now encompass my face and the flame within me is burning through me. Turning my face, I kiss his palm and Jackson groans. I look to him for direction; I don’t know what I’m doing or if I’m even doing it right. The loving and calm look on his face relaxes me.

  “Fuck, Claire, you are so sweet.” Jackson crawls up onto the bed with me and nudges me to lay back. He positions himself on his side next to me, all while never removing his touch from me. “You’re safe with me, Legs. I’d never hurt you. Please tell me you know this.”

  I shift to my side so that we are now face-to-face. “I don’t know what to do, Jack. But I know that I need you.”

  “Tell you what, let’s take this slow. Just start off with a few kisses and get you comfortable with my touch.”

  Speechless at the tenderness that Jackson is showing, I am only capable of nodding my head.

  He leans in to kiss my forehead, and then trails more kisses down to my lips. I love Jackson’s lips. They are full and soft and commanding all at the same time. It is the only time that thought escapes me. I’m no longer worried about Zoey and Sasha and what is to come. Completely consumed by Jackson and what he calls forth in my body, I sink into the kiss and
scooch closer to the heat that my body so desperately needs. Placing my hands onto Jackson’s chest, my right hand finds its way to the scar that represents how close I came to loosing this stunningly beautiful soul before I even had a chance to know him.

  Not liking to be touched is one of the aftermaths from being raped. Always keeping a healthy distance between myself and others has become a practiced habit. But with Jackson, if I could crawl under his skin I would. His arms are strong and loving. His touch gentle and kind.

  My skin is a light with tiny electrical currents running along the path that Jackson’s hand is taking and I’m lost in him, lost to the moment and the pure joy of being touched. Keeping one hand on my face, his other trails down to my waist and squeezes. Unable to control the hunger burning within me, I do what feels natural and right and toss one leg over Jackson’s hip, placing my center in direct contact with his cock. It is hard and long and I have a fleeting moment of confidence at the contact.

  But the move seems to embolden Jackson, and the kiss that has been light and kind turns heated and erotic. A moan escapes my throat, and again I want more. More of this feeling, of Jackson, and of the me that I become when Jackson touches me. Jack rolls over so that he is on top of me, and we both groan at the full-on body contact. With one hand still on my face, the other has snaked behind to surround me in one arm. This kiss, his body, and my new-found confidence has me pushing up into his pelvis and grinding. Hiking my leg even higher up, Jackson takes command of the situation and of my body.

  Moving his delectable lips to my throat, the hand on my face moves slowly, painfully slow, down my throat, collarbone and comes to a rest on my left breast. “God, Legs, you amaze me.”

  I’m breathless and needy. “Please, Jack. Please,” I plead as I grind the most sensitive part of me against him.

  “I have you, baby. Take what you need. I’ll catch you.”

  “I…I don’t…I don’t know what to do. I need…” I trail off as the feelings overwhelm me. There is a tingly sensation between my legs and it is building to a point that I can feel it all over my body. I ache, and although we are fully clothed, I have read enough to know that I am on the cusp of finally experiencing my first orgasm.