Going Deep Boxed Set (Books 1-4)

by DePaul, Virna

  "Well, you just sound a little out of breath," Gabe answered. "Did I catch you in the middle of a…workout?"

  If by working out he meant 1) working the fingers she’d moistened with her mouth over and over her clit while imagining it was Gabe's tongue; or 2) the muscles of her lower stomach spasming as she imagined it was Gabe's teeth and not her own fingers pinching her nipple; or 3) her back arching as she imagined Gabe's cock pushing deep inside her as she rushed toward her orgasm, then yes, Gabe had definitely caught her in the middle of a workout. Hell, her heart rate had been approaching the red zone, the muscles of her inner thighs were still contracted, and she was covered in more sweat than when she did five minutes straight of burpees.

  Zoe's cheeks burned as if Gabe had actually walked in on her naked and moaning and pleasuring herself, and her imagination went wild as she pictured how he might respond.

  Would he slam the door and mumble a hasty apology?

  Would he linger in the doorway, his eyes tracing her fully exposed body as his pupils widened and his cock hardened?

  Would he palm his erection, unable to stop himself as he took in the sight of her hand digging greedily into the swell of her own breast, nipple hard and eager for his touch between her fingers?

  Would his eyes, just a ring of stormy blue around a wide, black pupil, move down to her wet pussy between her clenched thighs?

  Would he lick his lips as he slowly closed the door behind him then—

  "Zoe? Zoe, hello?"

  "Huh?" Zoe blinked and yanked her hand from beneath the sheet where it had been trailing down her sweat slick stomach toward the driving need between her legs.

  "You still there?"

  "Yeah, yeah, I'm, um, I'm still here," she stammered.

  "Oh, well, alright." Gabe was obviously confused by her rather odd behavior. "I just thought I might have lost you for a second."

  No, Zoe was far from lost. In fact, she knew exactly where she was: in deep fucking shit.

  And she needed to get off the phone with Gabe right now before she made an even bigger fool of herself.

  "Um, Gabe, hey, I, um, I actually was in the middle of a… " Zoe bit down on her knuckle before managing to force out, "um, a workout and I, um, I should get back to it before my heart rate lowers and all that, you know?"

  "Sure, sure," Gabe answered. "I was just calling because you suggested I see an acupuncturist. Do you have one you’d recommend? I know I didn’t seem very open to it when you mentioned it, but what can I say? I’ll try anything if it means getting back to 100%.”

  Well that wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement, and she wondered why he’d called her when he could have just emailed or texted, but she simply rattled off the name and number of her own acupuncturist.

  “Thanks. So I’ll see you in a few days.”

  He would actually see her at practice tomorrow, but she didn't waste time telling him that. “See you then, Gabe.” Zoe hung up and exhaled loudly as she flailed her arms out beside her on the bed, her cell phone tumbling to the floor.

  Then she started her workout again, not stopping until thoughts of Gabe had her whimpering, arching off the bed, and coming hard.

  Chapter 6

  “Blue, thirty-two! Blue thirty-two!”

  Gabe leaped off the line and sprinted right, slicing past his defender with ease, focus as clear as glass. Right on cue, he turned his head to track the ball through the blaze of the early morning sun. A rush of adrenaline coursed through him, as he plucked the pigskin out of the air and poured it on in a controlled dash to the end zone, untouched.

  “Nice one, Murphy,” Coach called out.

  He nodded.

  Day one of practice with the Bootleggers, and they’d been at it for a couple hours, first with stretches and warm-ups and now with some scrimmage. He’d already met his teammates and done his social duty by making semi-polite small talk, but this was why he was here. His shoulder felt good, and Zoe was partially responsible for that despite the fact they hadn’t even started officially working together.

  For the past few days, he’d worked out on his own, but mostly he’d concentrated on the mobility and stability exercises that Zoe had shown him the day he’d met her. He’d noticed a difference already, a flexibility that he hadn’t attained by working with the physical therapist and trainer in Chicago.

  He’d only trained with Zoe once and already she’d done good.

  Too good, in fact. Not only had she imprinted herself in his memory because of what she could do as a trainer, but he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head for other reasons as well. Those smiles he’d seen at the bar… He’d been right—those dimples had come out while playing darts, when he’d made a mental note to try and make her laugh more often. After he’d walked her home and headed back to the bar to pick up his car, all he’d been able to think about was how dangerous it had been to accept her invitation to enter her house. Even before that, he’d been having a hard time keeping the lines between professional and not-so professional from blurring. While he felt bad for Zoe, he'd never been more grateful for a broken A/C in his entire life. Because while he’d wanted so badly to touch her, caress her hair, trail his fingers down her arms, cup her perfect breasts, and squeeze the supple swells of her mind-blowing ass—he couldn’t.

  He was not going to be distracted by Zoe any more than he already was.

  He had to get Zoe Reynolds out of his head. She was his trainer and nothing else.

  Though he felt strong today, he still wasn’t as resilient as before his injury, and he was going to need all the help he could get from her.

  It didn’t seem to matter how much he reminded himself to stop thinking of Zoe, however. Because while the rest of the morning went great, by lunchtime, random thoughts of her kept barreling into his head without warning, and he missed every other opportunity to catch the ball. Creamy skin, eyes like sparkling jade stones…he’d never seen green eyes that vibrant, sultry and mischievous. Sexy as fuck. Plus, she had a way of standing that was both athletic and feminine at the same time, and just when you thought she was straight as a board from one angle, from another, her curves popped out to play. It didn’t take much for him to slip into fantasies about her, just the way it had when she’d answered her phone sounding breathless from her workout. His two favorite replays were him tangling his fingers in her long, thick ponytail as he took her from behind and peach juice dripping down his chin as he buried his face in between her thighs for hours.

  “Hey, Murphy, good job out there.”

  Gabe looked up to see Heath Dawson reaching out to give him a high-five. Dawson was one of the Bootlegger’s established wide receivers and someone Gabe had always admired even before meeting him. Far from feeling threatened by Gabe, the other man had gone out of his way to make Gabe feel welcome.

  “Thanks.” Gabe jogged back two steps to connect hands with him, but moved along quickly. Not here to make friends, he reminded himself. The longer it took for him to know people, the easier it’d be when it was time to move on.

  Sad as hell to think that way, but it was a fact. A fact of the NFL.

  Lunch was catered by a local BBQ restaurant that was supposed to be amazing, but Gabe headed straight for the roasted chicken and greens, nothing else. He didn’t need his body struggling to absorb all that sugary sauce and fatty fries when he was trying to rebuild broken muscle.

  “You miss Chi-town?”

  Someone was talking to him. “I’m sorry?” Gabe looked up from the steel bin holding drinks to see quarterback Kyle Young, a tall guy about his height with dark hair. Last year, Young had been in the headlines, not for his prowess at football but because he’d gotten engaged to a bona fide princess. By all accounts, they split time between the United States and her European kingdom.

  Young laughed under his breath. “I said, do you miss Chicago? I bet you’re stoked about being in warmer weather instead of blizzard town, this major heat wave aside.”

  “No, not reall
y,” Gabe said, taking a seat at one of the long benches in the dining hall. “Got family back there.” In addition to Mimi and Pop, he also thought he’d had friends in Chicago, but though he’d reached out a couple of times himself, most hadn’t made much effort to stay in touch.

  “Ah. I get it. I’m originally from New York. Small town took me a while to get used to, but you’ll love it here. You’ll see.”

  “Cool. Thanks.” Gabe wasn’t in the mood to talk. He’d been slowing down as the morning wore on, which needed to be remedied in the second half of the day. It didn’t help that he’d had a particularly hot dream of Zoe last night. His body aching, he’d been about to take care of himself in the shower, but he’d forced himself not to. He’d already masturbated to her once; making it a habit would be a dangerous road to start on. So would doing things like calling her just to hear her voice, something he’d done when he’d gotten her recommendation for an acupuncturist, when he should have just emailed her. No more. He needed to stop thinking of Zoe that way, not make it a habit.

  After lunch, practice went fine. He caught most passes but kept slowing down near the end zone. To be fair, he wasn’t the only guy slowing down, but that was no excuse. He wasn’t like the others—he was Gabe Murphy of the Noise…fuck…of the Bootleggers, and he needed to stand out in the best way possible.

  Nearing four o’clock, they’d just started another scrimmage when Gabe spotted Murph in the stands, sitting with …oohh, fuuuuck…

  Zoe. Why was she here?

  No sooner did he have the thought than the ball connected with his helmet.

  Wow. Did that really happen?

  Despite his embarrassment, Gabe shook it off and knocked on his helmet a few times, then gave everyone a thumb’s up.

  They finished the play.

  “It’s okay, Gabe! Come on, you can do this!” Murph shouted.

  No—just no. He shook his head at her, launching silent missiles her way to get her to shut up. He did not need little sis cheering him on right now.

  As Gabe ran back to the huddle to hear the next play, he told himself to focus. He'd had tens of thousands of people watching him live Sunday after Sunday and that wasn't even counting the millions watching on television around the world. What did he care if one woman he barely knew watched, too?

  But on the next play he ran the wrong route, which resulted in an interception by the cornerback.

  "Murphy!" Coach shouted at him. "What the hell are you doing?”

  "Sorry, Coach!" was all Gabe could say as he lined back up next to Young.

  "It's a big play book and you're brand new," Young said, nudging him with his elbow. "No worries, eh?"

  Gabe nodded, trying to shake it off. But the rest of the practice was a shit storm. He tripped up the running back who would have had an open seam to score had it not been for him. He missed a block he was supposed to pick up leading to Young getting sacked. He dropped more balls than he'd caught all day and even managed to trip over his own feet on the single catch he had since Zoe arrived at practice.

  Twenty minutes later, the whistle blew and Coach called everyone together on the sidelines. Gabe felt like shit. He had hoped to really impress his new coach and his new teammates. But instead of instilling confidence in his play on a new team, he'd only managed to cause doubt. The last thing he needed was Coach cutting back his reps, dropping him in the depth chart, or asking around the league to see if anyone wanted the busted and broken Gabe Murphy.

  "Fellas, we've got a lot of work to do as I'm sure you are all aware," Coach said, rocking back and forth on his heels. "There were some standouts and there were some… well, we'll keep working at it, right? Now get out of here, would ya?"

  He clapped once then patted everyone on the back while the team made their way into the locker rooms, but paused at Gabe.

  "Don't make me regret my decision to take a risk on you, son," he said in a low voice. "Prove to me that you're still the star you used to be."

  "I will, Coach," he said. "I won't let you down."

  Gabe took off his helmet and walked to his sister and Zoe, stopping just below where they sat. Zoe was wearing jeans, a tank top with a knot in the front that sexily showed off a little midriff, and a light sweater over it. As always, she looked good, but her eyes were slightly red, her skin a little pale, and he wondered if she was getting enough sleep or coming down with something.

  “Not a good time to lose one’s head,” Murph said with a giggle.

  “Yeah, yeah, very funny,” Gabe said.

  “He’ll never be the head of a major corporation,” she added. She was reciting lines from the Austin Powers movie. Mimi had told them their parents loved that movie around the time they got married, so he and his sister had watched it as kids over and over until they’d had the whole thing memorized.

  Gabe refused to respond, prompting Murph to keep going. “That’s not the way to get ahead in life.” She was snorting now, but Zoe, next to her, at least was holding back from joining in on the fun.

  Gabe sighed and turned to Zoe. “I know her mission is to make my life miserable, but why are you here?” he grunted out.

  He was angry about letting himself get distracted, but instead of directing that anger toward himself he aimed it toward Zoe.

  Zoe eyed him calmly before crossing her arms over her chest. “I came because I wanted to see the types of drills they’d be putting you through, how we might improve the training program I have planned, how you looked out there.”

  Gabe let out a long, frustrated sigh. Damn, that sounded reasonable. He hated that she was being rational when he clearly wasn’t. He’d fucked up, but that was no reason to take it out on Georgia Peach, who if he was being honest was a sight for sore eyes.

  “Fine,” he said, still embarrassed by how he’d played, but trying not to be a cranky ass. “So what are you thinking?”

  “We should move from five to six days a week. Also, on your off days with the team, try for a two-a-day. When we first got here, you were looking great. Sharp, fast, good hands. As practice went on, you ran out of steam. You have excellent stamina, but it can still be improved. You in?”

  She hit the nail right on the head. He needed all the work he could get. And as much as seeing her six days a week was going to be a nightmare from hell on his libido, he couldn’t let his dick get in his way. Point blank—he needed the work. He knew it.

  “Yeah, all right. I’m in,” he muttered, swiping a forearm across his brow which had started to sweat again. Damn heat. “I’ll call you later. We can work out a new schedule.”

  “Better idea!” his sister piped in. “You need practically 24/7 training,” she said to Gabe. “More than we originally discussed. It’ll be crazy for Zoe to drive to our house back and forth all day, every day.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind,” Zoe said quickly.

  “Murph…” He crooked an eyebrow at his sister.

  Turning to Zoe, Murph said, “What are you doing for the next several weeks?”

  “Murph…”

  “What do you mean?” Zoe asked. “I’ve cleared my entire schedule for him. That’s what I’m doing. Training my one and only client. Why?”

  “Well…” His sister let loose a sly smile. “You did say the air conditioning at your house suddenly stopped working the other day, right? And you’re already going to be at our house most days using the home gym….”

  Gabe could see the understanding spreading across Zoe’s face. He could feel the tension rising in his chest like an ever-expanding helium balloon. “Murph, can we talk about this in private?”

  “Why? Zoe, we’ve got four extra bedrooms sitting empty, each one with its own master suite. I’m thinking…it would be much easier if…” Murph kept talking, but Gabe could barely hear her.

  Zoe Reynolds, just down the hall from him. Every. Fucking. Day.

  Zoe Reynolds, taking a shower, one thin door between them.

  Zoe Reynolds, haunting his dreams, both wet and dry, nigh
t after night.

  Zoe Reynolds distracting him, just like she did when he’d gotten hit in the head with the damn ball.

  His sister was about to utter her official invitation for Zoe to move in with them and Gabe was struck by a sudden, overwhelming panic as he looked at Zoe.

  Her eyes slid to his and her little pink tongue darted out to trace her bottom lip. A bottom lip he was aching to taste. He was weak, the exact opposite of what he needed to be. Everything about her distracted him: her body, her gaze, her perfume, the way her hips moved, the sound of her laughter. It kept him up at night, and then all he wanted to do during the day was sleep so he could dream about her again.

  It would only be a hundred times worse if they were living together.

  “No,” he said bluntly. “That won’t work.”

  “But Gabe,” his sister began.

  “I said no, Murph. I’m going to be seeing enough of Zoe as it is. You and I need our privacy, and so does Zoe. End of discussion.”

  He sounded like an asshole again, and he forced himself to turn to Zoe to try and explain, apologize somehow, but instead of finding her expression closed off or hurt, she was biting back a smile.

  Because she knew, he thought.

  She understood how much he wanted her, and he was pretty sure it was because she wanted him just as much.

  She knew he’d been distracted by her all those times he fucked up on the field. That she was the reason he hadn't gotten sleep the last few nights, because he’d been too busy peeling those tight leggings off her toned legs again and again in his mind.

  But did she see that the more he tried to not want her, the worse it got?

  “Thanks again for coming by, Zoe. I’ll see you soon,” he managed to get out before heading into the tunnel toward the locker rooms. Just before he went inside, he slammed his helmet against the white painted cinder blocks. He was supposed to be thinking about X's and O's, schemes and defenses, but he couldn't get Zoe's little knowing smile out of his head.

  And the worst thing of all?