by Jen Talty
Crap, he’d forgotten about Brad. He really hoped he hadn’t been in the corner snapping pictures of that kiss…he wiped his lips.
“Thanks for this,” Brad said, holding up the can. “I’ve got more than enough pictures, so I’ll excuse myself.” He pressed something on his camera and handed it to Jessica. “Just give it back on Monday. Once you download the images, you can delete them from the card.”
She nodded, slipping it into her phone case.
“Can I see the pictures?” Heather had lifted her bad leg, resting it on his knee. He knew she’d overdone it. She always did.
And she almost never complained.
“I’ll send them to your dad, okay?” Jessica reached out, brushing back a lock of Heather’s hair. “I bet there are some really great ones of you and your dad.”
“Thanks for letting me take the pictures,” Brad said, holding out his hands. “I’m not billing them to the team, so they are all yours. I think there are some really good ones that would blow up nicely.”
“I appreciate it.”
“I’ll show you out,” Karen said.
A long silence followed as Nolan eased his thumb between his daughter’s brace and her hip, massaging gently. Her hip joint hurt her the most, but on days where she played hard, which was most days, her knee bothered her as well. Heather rested her head against his chest with her plump little hand under her cheek. Her other hand looped under his arm.
“I think someone is tired,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. She didn’t nap often, but if she were to take a power nap, it would be just as dinner approached.
“No, I’m not.” She yawned.
He chuckled as he glanced over the top of her head.
Jessica sipped her soda, looking around the yard, her gaze everywhere but on him. “I should get going too.”
“You never answered my question about dinner.” His daughter’s breathing slowed as she drifted off into a peaceful sleep in his arms.
“I want to get started on the article.”
“Look at me,” he said softly.
Slowly, Jessica turned, her eyes locking with his. The corners of her mouth tipped upward. “Thanks for letting me into your world. I understand why you’ve done things the way you have, and I promise I will paint that picture.”
“I know you will.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “Please stop avoiding the question. Heather was so disappointed when you didn’t join us for ice cream last night. I told her I’d ask you tonight.”
“Dairy Queen,” Jessica’s smiled brightened. “She’s been asking me all afternoon.”
“Really?” He tried to act surprised, but his little girl had his same determination and persistence.
“Listen. I’ve had a great time today.” She reached out, running her fingers through Heather’s hair. “But I’ve intruded enough on your family time.”
“If not for me, then for this little girl. She likes you, and it would mean a lot to her.”
“Resorting to using your daughter to get me to stay?”
If it weren’t for the playful look in Jessica’s eyes as she batted her lashes, he’d be insulted.
“When my kissing doesn’t do it, and not to brag, but I’d say I’m a good kisser, then yes, I’d resort to just about anything.” He winked. “Even daring you to join us.”
“My daring days are over.”
“That seriously bums me out because I have an entire list of things I’d like to dare you to do. One of which has to do with that pool over there.”
“Shhhhhhh.” Jessica held her finger over her lips. “Not appropriate talk in front of a toddler.”
He leaned a little closer. “Come here,” he whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder, coaxing her closer. “Please? I’m begging here.” He kissed her softly. Her pouty lips were plump and moist.
“Okay,” she said, pulling back. “But I have to leave right after. I really do need to start on the article if I’m going to get it done by Monday and have it be any good.”
Looking into her eyes, his heart fluttered. He’d had a couple of long-term relationships and a few women he’d really cared about. But not a single one would he have ever begged to go out with him.
11
Jessica had never been so nervous about an article before in her entire career. Before the Dolphins, she worked for a team management company, doing similar things, and before that, she wrote articles about sports for a local magazine.
But she’d never written anything so emotionally gripping before. She’d cried three times.
And then there were the pictures.
Brad had outdone himself.
Taking a deep breath, she opened her laptop, keying in her passcode, then pulled up the blog and the social media feeds. It had only been ten minutes since the post went live and already there were over thirty comments.
She clutched her chest as she read through them, smiling as they were all glowing. People related to him and his daughter and what they had gone through. One reporter even apologized for jumping on the ‘gossip bandwagon.’ A few more comments popped up as she scrolled down. All good…except one.
SW_DolphinsFan: This is a very touching story. Coach Greer and his daughter seem to have a special bond, and from all the other reports coming in, this appears to be a true picture of their life. However, I must comment on the author of the article, if she is indeed the author. I mean, it’s so far off her normal posts. I mean just look at the language and style and compare it to previous articles. Makes me wonder if she didn’t have someone else write it. Really, out of the woman’s ability, and she’s been known to do this before at her college paper, taking credit for someone else’s hard work. Tsk. Tsk.
“Shit,” she mumbled. The same poster tweeted the false accusation and posted the same comment on other social media outlets.
She looked up the account, only to find it had been created this morning. Nothing worse than a fake account and a troll.
For the next hour, she focused on the article, not the comment or those who chose to reply to the negative comment that had no bearing on the article.
Don’t feed the trolls. Generally, a good motto to live by on the internet.
She’d been able to bury it across all platforms until the fake poster stopped commenting on the thread and created a new one.
SW_DolphinsFan: People, we really need to stop allowing this woman to take credit for this. In no way did she write it. Compare the opening paragraph to this one from last week’s feature.
The post linked her feature blog on the head coach.
I’m sure you intelligent folks out there can see the difference. We need to one: back away and stop commenting on this, giving her praise, and two: request she be removed from the organization. For all we know, the image of her flashing Coach Greer had been planned for her two minutes of fame. LET’S SHUT THIS DOWN, PEOPLE!
“Asshole.” Don’t feed the trolls, she continued to remind herself as she focused on posting other players’ images, their stats, as well as who the fans could expect to see during the first preseason game.
Two hours ticked by before her stomach growled. Normally, before she’d grab a bite to eat, she’d check the feed again, but this time, she thought better of it. She hadn’t heard from her superior or the head honcho, so she figured the troll was a faint echo in cyberspace.
A tap at the door startled her, and when she glanced up, she was surprised to see Nolan instead of Lilliana.
“Hungry?” he asked, holding up a take-out bag from the burger joint across the street.
“Actually, I am.” She closed her laptop. She hadn’t seen him since Saturday evening at his daughter’s favorite restaurant. The only communication they’d had were a couple of text messages about the article with a couple flirty ones tossed in for good measure. “What’d you bring?”
“The only thing I’ve ever seen you eat.”
She laughed. “I’m going to get fat hanging out with you.” Pushing asid
e the papers on her desk, she made room for the two take-out trays. “Did you read the article?” She’d been worried all morning about what he might think of it. The negative poster was correct in one thing: it was a departure from her regular sports style.
“I did,” he said as he sat down across from her, piling ketchup on his French fries.
“Before or after I posted it.”
“I told you I didn’t want to read it before it went up.” He licked his fingers then tossed her a few packets. “It made for an amusing morning practice when I told one of the players that my daughter ran faster than he did.”
She laughed. There seemed to be a lightness about him that hadn’t been there before. “What did you think of the pictures?”
“I didn’t realize how much Heather looked like me until that side-by-side picture of me as a baby and her.”
She watched him bite into his burger. He made everything look sexy and desirable, and she no longer cared that he had little time for her because she understood how important his daughter was, and Jessica had no problem being second fiddle to that little girl. “Did you look at the ones I sent privately?”
He nodded. “I want to have a couple blown up. Give one to my dad for a Christmas present.”
“Which one?”
“I sent an email to Brad with the ones I really liked and copied you on it.”
“Oh. I haven’t checked my email. Too busy floating posts for this weekend’s game.”
“I was glad to see you ignored that one asshole who decided to try to make trouble for you.”
She swallowed then coughed, nearly choking on her hamburger.
“You okay?” He leapt from his chair, jumping around her desk, and smacking her on the back.
“Fine, really.” She held up her hand. “Just caught off guard by the fact you read the comments.”
He leaned against her desk, staring down at her. “One of the other coaches told me about it, so I checked it out. I was tempted to comment back, but I figured why add fuel to the fire and you ignored it, so….” He shrugged.
“I appreciate you thought about it and glad you didn’t.”
Eight days ago, she’d thought Nolan was an arrogant ass with a temper. He did have a temper, on the field, but off, he became a big softy with a kind and gentle soul.
He took one of her fries, then smothered it in some ketchup before offering it to her mouth. Heat spread through her body as he placed the treat on her tongue. She drew it in, taking the tip of his finger with it, sucking on it for a moment.
“I missed you yesterday.” He traced her lips with his forefinger. “Starting this weekend, I’ll have even less time to see you.”
The warmth stirring in her body chilled.
Family first. He’d said those words a half-dozen times on Saturday, a concept she respected, which made this entire situation that much more difficult. She’d been a part-time woman to another man…a married man, who should have been putting his family first. Even though she hadn’t known Robert was married, she’d always felt as though she came last in his life. That his career meant more to him than any person and her being the least important thing in his world.
She wanted to matter to someone, as selfish as that sounded; she wanted to be on the top rung on someone else’s ladder.
Something she’d never have with Nolan because he was a loving son and a dedicated father who put his family above all else.
The kind of man she wanted for herself.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, his fingers gliding through her hair, pushing it over her shoulder. “You’re scowling.”
“Sorry,” she said, her mind scrambling to come up with a reason for her sour mood that didn’t make her look like a childish, selfish bitch who needed constant attention. “I think that comment on the blog bothered me more than I thought because there is one part of it that is fact.”
“What’s that?” He cupped her neck with his long fingers as his thumb gently rubbed her cheek.
Damn him for making her feel as if she were at the top of his ladder.
“My tone and style with your piece was a big departure from the way I normally write.”
“Did you do that for a reason?”
She nodded. “It was an observational piece, not a recount of an interview. I tried to do it as an outsider looking in.” Only, without realizing it until after she’d posted it, she’d layered in some of her personal feelings for the sexy coach and father.
“I don’t know much about writing.” He curled his fingers around her shoulders, pulling her up and easing her between his legs, his strong arms circling her waist. “But I really liked it, and I normally hate anything written about me. My mother wants to meet the woman who finally understands her son.”
Jessica swallowed. The other day, his mother had been having a bad time and wasn’t up for company, much less meeting anyone. Had Jessica known, she would have insisted that she and Brad come over another time, but her presence didn’t seem to upset any balance. The house was filled with love and support, and even though she knew a dying woman rested somewhere on the second floor, life was being celebrated.
“I’m far from understanding you.” She rested her hands on his shoulders, feeling the tight muscles constrict under her gentle massage.
“Can you come over after work and have dinner with us?” His hands glided between the small of her back and the top of her ass. His touch was filled with promises of ecstasy.
“I don’t want to intrude on—”
“Please stop saying that.” His arms gathered her tight, pressing her chest against his hard pecs.
Her breasts heaved against him with every deep breath. Her nipples were painfully erect and tight. All he had to do was look at her, and she was putty in his hands.
“I want you there, and you’re all Heather has been talking about.” He winked. “She thinks it’s important she gets to know any woman who kisses her daddy to make sure they are good enough.”
Jessica tried to tear her gaze away, but his green eyes lured her in so deep, she found herself molding her mouth with his in a familiar slow dance, their tongues anticipating each other’s next swirl.
“Have you ever had sex in your office before?” he whispered as he nibbled on her ear.
“Can’t say that I have.” Her words came out in one big pant. She thought about jumping up on the desk, dropping her pants, and letting him do whatever he wanted. “Don’t have any protection and doors are not locked.” She squeezed her eyes shut. Heat rushed to her cheeks.
“I can fix both those problems.” He pushed her aside and ran to the door, slamming it shut.
Wetness poured out of her at the click of the lock. She throbbed when he tossed the condom on the desk.
“First time I’ve bought those in two years.” His triumphant smile made her giggle. “Glad that amuses you.” He stood in front of her, fingers toying with the button on her pants, gently gliding the zipper down.
She bit down on her lip as his hand glided across her stomach and into her panties, his middle finger sliding between her wet folds. Her pulse pounded in her ears like a conga drum. His warm lips kissed her neck just under her ear. “Remind me to wear skirts more often.” She pushed her pants down over her hips, kicking off her shoes, and removing her slacks.
“It would make this easier.” He continued to nibble on her neck, kissing his way to her cleavage, biting at her nipple through her shirt. She should care that he made a wet spot, but she didn’t. His soft hair tingled her fingertips as she admired the way his lips heated every inch of her, wishing he’d removed her shirt.
Lifting her onto the desk, he sat in her chair, tossing her legs over his shoulders, forcing her back on her elbows. “Say you’ll come over for dinner.” His middle finger traced her opening in a gentle stroke.
She squirmed. The desire to be filled by him took over her body as she rocked her hips against his hand, trying to draw his finger inside her.
He kisse
d the inside of her thigh.
She dug her heels into his back, moaning, yet he barely touched her.
“Say it.” His mouth and finger hovered over her like a hummingbird.
“Oh…please, Nolan.”
He looked up at her with an arched brow. “Say you’ll come to dinner, and I’ll take care of this.” His thumb grazed her clit, then his finger dipped inside her for a second before he pulled it out and brought it to his mouth. “Come to dinner tonight.”
“This is blackmail.”
He kissed her swollen nub. “It is and this is about all you’ll get unless you agree.” Puckering his lips, he blew on her.
“Oh…my…God. Fine. Yes. Dinner. Tonight.”
He smiled.
The room spun as he wasted no time pleasing her with his mouth and tongue. He kissed and sucked with wild abandon. Her nerve endings exploded with every swirl of his tongue. She couldn’t take her eyes off him and what he did to her body.
She fumbled with the buttons on her blouse. Her breasts demanded attention. Begged to be fondled. As soon as she unclasped her bra, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it over her breast.
Dropping her head back, she blinked. The bright florescent light flickered from the ceiling. She gripped the edge of her desk, heels digging into his shoulders, toes curling.
“Oh….God…” she ground out.
His thick fingers entered her as he kissed her stomach, making his way up to her exposed nipples. His hot, wet lips brushed against one, then the other, going back and forth as his fingers glided in, stopping and curling at the right moment before slipping out again.
“I have to have you.” She clutched his head, pulling him from her breasts. “Now.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a smile before ramming his tongue inside her mouth. This man kissed like there was no tomorrow. He stroked the inside of her mouth much the same way he’d done when his head had been between her legs.
He stepped back as he let his trousers fall off his hips.
“Beautiful,” she whispered, watching him roll the condom over himself.
