Encroachment (Coach's Shadow Trilogy #2)

by Monica DeSimone

  Claire

  I’M PANTING, SEEPING both my own and Jackson’s fluids down my legs and on the table, and I cannot believe that I gave it up so easily. But God, I am starting to understand why sex is Zoey and Suzie’s favorite topic. The fire burned me from inside my being. His desire—no hunger—for me ignited a yearning in me that I couldn’t control.

  “First thing I do when I can feel my legs is sanitize this table!”

  His deep rumble of laughter shakes us both and sets off more tingles between my thighs. “God, I love the way your brain works.”

  Jackson has somehow managed to become important to me. He has wiggled his oversized body into my heart. The thought of a day without him overwhelms me. I want this man so badly that I can hardly put words to just how desperately I need him. But my fear of losing control scares me more, and although all I want to do is run to him, I end up running away.

  Am I even capable of giving Jackson what he wants? What he needs?

  Kissing my back, Jackson snuggles into my neck, but the weight of him is suffocating. With a, “I can’t breathe,” he pushes off of me while placing sweet and gentle kisses all the way down to my butt.

  Standing to my full height, I wobble and am unsteady on my feet. Jackson catches and helps to steady me. Leaning down, he helps me into first my panties and then my yoga pants. Kissing each ankle as they slip into the pant leg. “Did I hurt you?”

  Uncomfortable at Jackson’s blunt question, I look away from his handsome face. Sensing my unease, Jackson winks at me and walks through the sunroom and to the back door. Shouting for the girls, he strolls back into the kitchen. With an ease that soothes my frayed nerves, he says, “Okay, Legs. Its movie night. Let’s feed the ladies and ourselves and watch a movie.”

  Flabbergasted, my mouth hangs open as I stand in the same spot he left me in. Jackson walks over to me and kisses me, smacks my ass, and gives me a wink. I can’t help but melt and feel myself get even wetter between my legs.

  “Shake a leg, Claire. You’re in charge of feeding us. I’ll get the movies.”

  Jackson

  TWENTY MINUTES LATER, I’m settling myself on Claire’s couch and look over as she walks over to me. “If I knew movie night meant game tapes I wouldn’t have made you this feast!”

  “Feast! My ass! Popcorn and beer is not the way to a man’s heart, Legs.”

  Laughing, she pushes the biggest bowl of popcorn I have ever seen toward me, and says, “Wait for it.”

  Scooping up a handful and shoveling it into my mouth, I moan. Mother of God! This is the best popcorn I have ever had.

  Grabbing a handful for herself, she says, “Told you so.”

  Three more handfuls and a sip of beer later, I look at her and say, “Marry me, Legs. If this is what you do for popcorn I can’t wait to see what you do to a pot roast.”

  “It’s just vegetable oil and salt, Jackson, don’t be dramatic. It actually took me longer to set everything up than it did to make.”

  “Christ, woman,” is all I have to say as I shovel another handful into my mouth.

  “So, Jackson. Tell me why we are watching game tapes?”

  “We have a hole in the defense and I can’t see it. Figured I’d run it past you, get your opinion.”

  The light that comes over Claire’s face would have me begging if it would work to my advantage. Eyes twinkling in delight, she says, “Play the tape, old man.”

  Jackson

  MOVIE NIGHT WAS almost a month ago and seemed to have been a turning point for Claire and me. It was as though asking her opinion broke down the final barrier. Claire seems less stressed and more relaxed around me. I like to think that it’s all the sex we’re having, but realistically I know that it’s because Zoey is back full time at the foundation, and that Claire is ticking down the hours to her final days with the team.

  We have spent most of our time off together. It’s been difficult with the team making a run for the post season and the hours that that entails for both Claire and I.

  Claire is a homebody and I’ve discovered that the woman can cook. She even made me a pot roast that would put any professional chef to shame. I’ve had to add an additional mile to my daily run to keep my weight down.

  Last night was the first time that I spent the entire night at Claire’s house, and waking up with her long ass legs wrapped around me was heaven.

  Standing under the spray of the showerhead, I jump when my girl walks in to join me and I go instantly hard. I love the fact that she is getting more and more brazen with me. Wrapping one long, slender hand around my cock, I jump again at how cold her hand is. A gasp of shock and pleasure escapes my mouth as I curl my body inward. “Christ, woman, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

  Letting loose of a throaty laugh, she only shakes her head and steps closer to me. Licking water off of my chest, she places a kiss over my scar. “Jackson? There’s something that I want to try and I need for you to go along with it. Okay?”

  She isn’t looking at me, and there is trepidation in her voice. Cupping her face and lifting it so that we are eye to eye, I say, “Anything you want, Legs. It’s yours.” The sound of my own voice in my ears surprises me. It’s rough and heavy with sexual desire.

  Stepping back, Claire proceeds to further shock and awe me. Every day with this woman only gets better and better, but the sight of Claire dropping to her knees, all while she is stroking me…I have no words.

  Over the past month, my girl has been up for anything and everything. As her confidence has grown, she is more accepting of her own sexuality. Even embracing it. I almost swallowed my tongue the first time that she crawled onto my lap and started rubbing herself up and down my cock. But this, Claire naked and on her knees, finally giving me all of her, is my birthday, Christmas, and the Super Bowl rolled all in one.

  Looking down at this woman, I realize just how much I need her. In my life, my bed, my soul. Claire is everything to me and I can no longer hide the craving that I have for her. With a quick glance up my stomach and chest, Claire’s eyes meet my own as she wraps her amazing mouth around my cock.

  The moment her mouth is on me, my head falls back on my neck and my hands go to her hair. The immediate removal of her warm, wet mouth has me at a loss. Looking down at her all she says is, “Please don’t touch my head.” Instantly, I know the error of my actions and grow immediately soft.

  Bending down, I pull my girl into my arms and whisper, “I’m sorry. You don’t have to…we don’t have to do this.”

  We have never really talked about that night all those years ago, I know what I walked in on, but Claire has never shared the details. This one statement clues me in on a small portion of what occurred, and I have the sudden urge to hold her and kill Brad at the same time.

  Everything with Claire is a first. I had to hold myself back initially, but lately she has gotten more adventurous. I don’t push too much, remembering her past is always in the forefront of my mind.

  As though she is afraid that her past is going to swallow her whole, Claire pushes out of my embrace with a look of sheer determination and drops back down to her knees. “Baby? Legs? What are you do…Oh my God!” She wraps her warm mouth around my flaccid cock, and I go from zero to rock hard in two point two seconds. My head falls back and I’m lost to the sensation of Claire. Knowing that she is putting the past behind her, I’m enjoying this blow job even more than I probably should.

  One hand has me gripped tight while the other is playing with the taint between my balls and ass. “Christ, Legs, where the hell did you learn that?” I’m on my toes and grabbing for purchase on the slick, wet walls.

  Claire has been working me for a good five minutes and I’m in utter heaven. It is when my girl gets brave and slips one finger into my ass that I detonate without any warning. I literally explode the second that her perfect, little finger breaches the tight ring within me.

  Unable to think, because this is the best orgasm I have ever had and am incapabl
e of even withdrawing from Claire’s mouth, I spill my seed long and hard into her mouth. The fact that my girl is gulping it down only enhances and prolongs my orgasm.

  Claire is still drinking in my seed and I’m unable to hold myself upright any longer. Leaning over her, I brace my arms on the shower wall and attempt to resume a normal breathing pattern. “Christ! Where the hell did that come from?”

  I could handle that kind of attention every day of our lives and twice on Sunday!

  Looking up at me from between my legs, the witch licks her lips and moans. Moans! “That was fun, Jack. Do you think we can do it again sometime?”

  Groaning, because that is all I’m capable of, I remain motionless. I can’t even help my girl up off her knees. Panting, sweating, and completely blissed out, I am unable to move. I rest my head on the cooling shower tiles to catch my breath.

  Good thing Claire is able to keep her wits about her. Working herself up my thighs, waist, and ultimately my chest, she places a kiss over my scar and snuggles into my chest and fucking purrs. “Thank you, Jackson. Thank you so much.”

  Finally able to regain my mind and bodily functions, I smooth a hand down my woman’s face, kiss her plump lips and whisper, “Thank you, baby. That was fucking amazing.”

  WASHING EACH OTHER off is quite possibly the best thing I have ever done in my life. Hands, arms, fingers are reverent and loving. Claire is open and happy, which lightens the weight that has been weighing me down the past few days. To see her this light and carefree is like watching a child open a gift. Surprise and delight filled with a sense of awe.

  Stepping out of the shower, I wrap a towel around my waist and make my way toward the bedroom. Opening the bathroom door has me stopping in my tracks. Dallas and Legs are sitting at the threshold, heads cocked and eyes looking longingly with betrayal.

  Stumbling back, I look toward the shower where Claire is washing her hair and say, “Legs? Why are the girls sitting at the door looking as if we have banished them?”

  A giggle comes from the shower and good God, I go rock hard at the sound. It still surprises me to hear it, but warms my soul. “I have no closed doors in this house, Jackson. To Dal a closed door means she’s in trouble, being punished. Just give her some love and she’ll get over it.”

  Crouching down to scoop up Dallas and give Legs a pet, I walk over to the bag I have kept in my truck for weeks and grab clothes for the day.

  Claire

  THANKSGIVING IS UPON us and I find myself cooking for a small army. Albeit it’s at Zoey’s house and my sous-chef is Derrick, but it’s a small army none the less. We have two twelve pound birds and enough sides to feed said army. Having Derrick Hendrickson snapping to attention every time I open my mouth gives me great joy. Even Benny has come in to help. I think he came in for a water but I put him to work. But he didn’t complain when I sat him down and handed him a vegetable peeler. We all know that the only thing Ben does in regards to cooking is grill and, I would deny it if it ever got out, poorly at that. He just can’t cook, so to save us all a chance at food poisoning, I have him peeling sweet potatoes.

  I can only imagine the picture the three of us make, aprons on, Derrick dicing vegetables for momma’s famous stuffing and Bennie now dicing said sweet potatoes. I’m at the stove checking on the potatoes. Making sure that they are fork tender when Sasha walks in with Ian Muldoon hot on her tail.

  “Momma? What time is dinner? I have plans later.” Sasha walking into the room has all three of us turning toward the newcomers.

  “Nothing that should keep you away from your family,” is Ian’s response.

  Ian Muldoon is one scary man. If I ran into him in a dark alley I’d scurry away and out of sight. But he is kind, it’s in his eyes, and he has one heck of a wicked sense of humor.

  I say man because there isn’t one thing about him that suggests an innocence. I know that he is a Jersey boy who joined the Marines right out of high school. Served four years and let the military pay for his college. At thirty he has more tattoos than Zoey and Derrick combined and just as beautiful.

  “Who asked you, Ian? God! Don’t you have a family of your own?” Sasha responds. My girl is not unkind. That isn’t how I raised her to be, but the pure venom in her voice startles me.

  “What’s more important than this?” Derrick splays his arms to encompass the entire kitchen, while Ben asks, “What are you up to, Sash?”

  Looking over at my daughter, I realize that today is the first time that I have actually seen her in over a month. Sure, we’ve traded messages and texts, but it’s not quite the same. My kid and I used to spend all our time together and seeing her now brings forth an ache that I hadn’t noticed. Rubbing a hand absently over my breastbone, I realize that Jackson has filled that spot lately and I instantly feel guilty for my neglect.

  I know something is going on with my girl, but she’s just like me. Push too hard and she’ll run in the opposite direction than you want her to.

  Shoving the guilt aside, I smile over at my mini-me, reluctantly deciding that an all-out war today isn’t the best way to get Sasha to open up. “We’re gonna eat here in about an hour, Sash. Why don’t you grab that platter of bruschetta and take it out to the family room? I bet Suz and Ya are hungry.”

  Her disgruntled, “What am I a freaking servant,” isn’t lost on me. Shaking my head, the only thing I think is at least the beast didn’t curse.

  Christ, where did my sweet child go to?

  Derrick walking over to where I’m standing and giving me a one-armed hug doesn’t ease the guilt that I shroud myself in. Placing my head on his shoulder for comfort, I realize that the emotional distance that has wedged its way between Sasha and me is tangible and suffocating, and I don’t see a light at the end of this tunnel anytime soon. She is my kid after all and stubborn should be our middle names.

  “CHRIST, MULDOON, DON’T you ever fucking eat?” comes from Ben.

  “Not home cooked,” Ian says as he shovels another fork full of mashed potatoes into his mouth. “Claire, this is the best meal I have ever had. Thank you for inviting me.”

  I don’t remember extending an invitation to Ian, he just kind of showed up, but his enjoyment in the food brings joy to my heart. I love feeding people.

  Jackson’s hand on my thigh has my tummy tingling and me wanting to mount him here and now. “Another meal that you should be proud of, Legs.”

  Zoey, snatching the bowl of potatoes says, “See, Derrick, I told you there was an advantage to having Thanksgiving here.” Taking a huge scoop of potatoes she continues, “Look at all the leftovers we’re gonna have!”

  “No fair!” comes from Suzie.

  Just as Zoey starts to antagonize her best friend, I cut in. “Girls! There’s enough food for everyone to take home.”

  Their immediate, “Yes ma’am,” is music to my ears.

  Noticing that Sasha hasn’t had much to eat, I say, “Sash? Stinky? Are you not hungry? Do you want me to make a plate for you for later?”

  She pushes the pitiful amount of food around her plate. “I’m good. Just feel bad that Brad is by himself today.”

  Both Jackson and I go still at the mention of Brad. “I’m sure he’s with friends, Sash. No need to worry.” Jackson responds.

  “Like you care.”

  “Sasha! What has gotten into you?”

  Shoving away from the table with an, “I’m out,” Sasha walks over to Zoey, gives her a kiss and walks out.

  Ian’s abrupt, “I’m sorry, Claire, Coach. Forgot that I have to meet up with a friend. Gotta jet.” He leans over to kiss my cheek. “Dinner was amazing. Thank you for allowing me to join you all.”

  I pat his hand. “Anytime, Ian. You’re always welcome.”

  I look around the table and notice everyone is busy eating and avoiding eye contact with me. To break the awkwardness I say, “Talk about being able to clear a room.” It’s in jest which garners a chuckle from Derrick as he scoops another spoonful of rice onto his pla
te. Oblivious to the tension in the room, Suzie says, “Hey, Jack, do you think you could show me that trick you do with getting around firewalls?”

  A few minutes pass with no response before my dear friend looks up from feeding Ally and says to the room, “What?”

  DINNER AND DESSERT has been over for a good hour and I’m putzing around the kitchen when Ben walks in. He has been avoiding me lately which is unacceptable.

  “Bennie?”

  Grabbing a water out of the refrigerator, he says, “Yeah?”

  “You’ve been avoiding me lately. Why?”

  He closes the door to the refrigerator and turns toward me as I wipe down the island. “I’m not avoiding you per say. I’m just letting you find your balance.”

  “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

  Walking over to the island, Ben sits down and blows out a deep breath. “I want you to know that I never wanted to get involved in the first place. Mac was so determined those last few months and he didn’t give me much of a choice.”

  “I don’t want to talk about Mac.”

  “Well we need to. I need to.”

  Walking over and tossing the rag that I have been cleaning with into the laundry room, I turn back toward my friend. The indecision written all over his face has me worried. “Okay, Ben. What do you want to talk about?”

  “He loved you, Claire.” One look at my face has him cutting me off. “He did. He just didn’t know how to show you.”

  “Please, the man was an emotional eunuch with everyone except Zoey and his players.”

  Getting frustrated with me, Ben shoves away from the island and stands to his full height. “That right there. That’s why I don’t want to talk to you about this. I told Mac you wouldn’t listen. That the overabundance of compassion and forgiveness you have for everyone else is not extended to Mac and your mother. You have none whatsoever when it comes to them.”