by Jenna Rose
Jock
Jenna Rose
Copyright © 2019 by Jenna Rose
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
About the Book
Kylie’s business is under attack. A bitter ex-employee is set on destroying the massage studio she built from the ground up, so when Trent Baron, MVP quarterback for the New England Patriots, offers to hire her as his own personal, full time masseuse, it’s a hard offer to refuse.
But when she sees the look in his eyes, Kylie knows that Trent wants a whole lot more than a professional relationship with her, and Trent isn’t the kind of guy who gives up on what he wants.
Part of Kylie wants to say no and turn down the job. She swore an oath to always keep things professional, and when she sees the way Trent looks at her, she’s not sure if she can.
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Contents
1. Trent
2. Kylie
3. Kylie
4. Trent
5. Kylie
6. Trent
7. Kylie
8. Kylie
9. Kylie
10. Trent
11. Kylie
12. Kylie
13. Trent
Epilogue
More Jenna Rose
Chapter One
Trent
“Let’s just face facts, Alfred,” I growled as we drove. “We’re never gonna find a girl who can fix me.”
“Relax, Baron,” Alfred smiled. “We’ve just got to find you the right gal to straighten you out.”
“The right gal?” I groaned as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, feeling the knots in my back. “She doesn’t exist.”
“What kind of an attitude is that?” Alfred asked. “What would your poor mom and dad think if they heard you talking that way?”
“You’re gonna invoke the spirit of my dead parents, Al?” I smirked. “That’s a low blow.”
My folks died in a car crash when I was a junior in college and never got to see me make it to the NFL. I thought I wasn’t going to be able to go on and make it without my pops pushing me and my mom cheering me on, but I kept my head down, focused on my game, and when the draft came, I was first pick for New England.
“Well then keep an open mind, would you?” he smiled back. “We’ve got one more spot to check out.”
“Okay, Alfred. But if she doesn’t end up being God’s gift to man, or my back, I’m gonna say I told you so.”
Alfred just kept smiling as he drove. He’d been with me a long time, since I started in the NFL and got my first paycheck and had enough money to hire a driver, but he was a lot more to me than a driver. He was like Bruce Wayne’s Alfred: a driver, an assistant, a bit of a manager, and just an all-around great guy that I trusted with my life.
As far as girls were concerned, I saw a lot of guys on the team who could have been great end up washing out due to girl problems. Whether it was too many girls or one insane relationship, I saw a lot of great guys end up back at home without a future.
But not me.
Freshman and sophomore year I didn’t party, didn’t date. I just worked hard. And then junior year I let myself get into a relationship with a sorority girl named Karen.
Big mistake.
It became pretty obvious that she was only after me because I played football and she saw a big payday coming. She figured she could hitch her wagon to me and end up living the good life once I went pro.
It became more obvious when my parents died. She could comfort me for ten minutes, but then went out with the girls almost every night of the week. I broke it off and had been single ever since.
At twenty-nine, I wanted a championship, a good woman, and a loving home. I wasn’t interested in putting in half-efforts during the games, going out, getting hammered, and messing around with a bunch of girls who were only after me because of who I was.
I wanted a real woman, someone who loved me for who I was and who I could treat like a princess for the rest of our lives. But after being in the NFL for seven years, I’d been slowly coming to the realization that women like that simply didn’t exist anymore…
…if they ever did.
The tiny massage office came into view as Alfred pulled off the main road. It was a simple building that looked like a small house and he parked in front. A sparkling sign in bright cursive read:
HEAVENLY MASSAGE PARLOR
“Seriously, Alfred?” I scoffed. “This place?”
“Trust me, Baron,” he replied. “I’ve heard great things.”
A set of chimes rang as we pushed the door open and a blue-haired guy sitting behind the desk almost jumped out of his skin as we entered.
“Hello,” Alfred said. “This is Trent. He has an appointment with Kylie?”
“Yes, of course!” the man replied. “Kylie is ready for you. Why don’t you just come with me?”
“Enjoy yourself,” Alfred said as I made my way down the hall, following the blue-topped man, sure that this was a waste of time.
I’d seen five masseuses today in my search for a new girl. My last girl, Devaney, was incredible with her hands and knew how to get my knots out. Unfortunately, she was also selling my things as memorabilia and tipping paparazzi off to my location for a kickback on the money they made from the photos they took of me.
I let her go and was now in the process of suing her ass.
But so far, none of the girls had Devaney’s magic, and my back was killing me. So, as I stepped into the small massage room, let’s just say I wasn’t that optimistic.
“Kylie will be with you in a moment,” Blue-Top told me with a smile. “You can lie down on the table and wait.”
“Should I take my clothes off?”
“Mmmhmm,” he said with a smile and a nod. But he didn’t go anywhere. He just sort of stood there like he was waiting for me to start undressing.
“Uh, can I get a little privacy?” I asked.
“Oh, of course!” he replied. “I’ll leave you alone Mr. Baron. I’m a huge fan.”
“Thanks, pal,” I said with a smile as he did a little bow and backed out of the room. I chuckled softly to myself, got undressed, and covered my midsection with the sheet. A knock came from the door.
“Come in,” I called out.
The door opened.
“Hello, my name’s Kylie!” a sweet voice said.
“Trent,” I replied, my face in the cradle.
“Hi, Trent,” she replied. “Any problem areas?” she asked as she dimmed the lights and put on some kind of soft music.
“My back,” I replied. “Knots everywhere.”
“Here?” she asked, delicately pressing her fingers at the base of my neck.
“And all the way down,” I replied.
“Do you do manual labor?” she asked as she began rubbing me.
“You could say that,” I smiled. This girl didn’t know who I was? I guess Alfred was keeping my identity on the down-low, but the Rolls-Royce in the driveway should have been some kind of tipoff. Maybe she hadn’t seen it.
“I work the gridiron,” I said.
“Gridiron?” she replied. “What’s that? Sounds dangerous!”
Her thumbs dug into the tight muscles at the base of my neck and I let out a groan. It actually felt pretty good.
“If that’s too much pressure, just let me know!”
&
nbsp; “You can’t put too much pressure on me,” I replied as she really dug in.
“Oooh, manly man. You sure do have a lot of knots here,” she continued. There was something about her voice that had me interested. But there was really no way of just propping myself up and checking her out without looking like a bit of a creep either.
“Wow, that’s a big one!” she said as her thumbs dug into one of my biggest knots between my shoulder blades. I let out another groan. Her hands were perfect. She knew exactly what she was doing, and as my body tightened up I groaned again.
I immediately knew she was the one.
“You are a goddess,” I told her as she kneaded my back muscles.
“Well,” she laughed. “That’s a new one. No one’s ever called me a goddess before!”
Fuck, she sounds cute.
I had to see what she looked like, so I pretended I had to resituate myself and raised my head up off the table and glanced over to see the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen standing beside me.
There was a full-length mirror on the wall that gave me a full view of her as she stood over me, wearing an all-white outfit that looked like something a yoga instructor might wear.
Her physique was flawless.
My eyes traced every single line of her body, all the way up from her pedicured feet to her succulent thighs and baby-makin’ hips to her tiny, flat waist to her beautiful breasts, thin neck…
…and that face.
I swear to God, she had the face of an angel. Pouty little lips that were glistening with lip gloss and had me resituating myself against the table, a little button nose, and beautiful, big blue eyes like a doll, with a thick mane of brunette curls spilling down her long neck and collarbones.
I’d said it before, but I was thinking it again immediately: This girl was a goddess.
There was no way she didn’t notice me checking her out, but I didn’t move my eyes. I shifted again, trying to make room for my rapidly expanding bulge, and although she did her best to remain professional, I saw something in her eyes before she looked away, took hold of my neck, and turned my head back down into the cradle.
“If you don’t stay like this,” she scolded me, “I can’t do my job. You want me to do my job, don’t you, Trent?”
Oh, I want you to do something…
She leaned down and started in again on my back, but she was much closer this time—so close that I could feel her thigh pressing against my upturned hand.
Does she want me to touch her back?
Her soft curls brushed against my shoulders as she leaned in and began massaging me again, only this time her technique was somehow different. There was something else now…
…sensuality.
And there was no mistaking it.
Gently, so gently that it was almost as though it didn’t happen, I curled my fingers against her thigh. The stretch fabric of her pants was so thin it was almost like it wasn’t there.
So soft…
And Kylie didn’t pull away.
I did it again, harder.
There was no mistaking it this time. She had to have felt that and she knew what I was doing, but she didn’t back away.
“So, what’s this gridiron?” she asked. “Are you like…a construction worker?”
She saw my face, I thought. She still doesn’t know who I am?
“You’ve never heard of the gridiron before?” I asked.
She took her hands off me and I almost turned around again to see what she was doing, but that’s when I heard the sound of a squirt bottle and her rubbing lotion between her hands.
“Must be guy stuff,” she replied.
I was going to answer, but that’s when Kylie pressed her slick hands against my skin and applied more pressure.
“Mmmm,” I groaned as she dug in. Her thumbs ran across the knots in my back and I inhaled deeply, filling my nostrils with her sweet scent. I could feel the heat of her body against mine and I started to swell against the table so much so that I had to angle my hips up a little bit to make room.
Kylie noticed.
“Well whatever you do,” she said sweetly, her voice like honey dripping off her tongue. “It sure gave you a booty that Beyoncé would be jealous of.”
I had to turn around at that one, but as I tried to look back at her, she grabbed me by the neck again and turned my head back down.
“I told you,” she said again. “You have to stay like this so I can do my job and get these knots out.”
I was hard as a rock. This was not what I’d expected when I walked in.
Not only was Kylie aces at her job, she was also spunky as hell and had me feeling like I wanted to leap off the table, snatch her in my arms, pin her down beneath me, and have my way with her.
She leaned in again, this time pressing her forearms against my back. More of her curls spilled down over me and I wrapped my fingers around her thigh and squeezed.
This time she acknowledged it by moving away. She didn’t say anything, but I had the feeling that if I tried again I’d get a scolding.
She moved down my back with her forearms, using her elbows to dig into the tense muscles of my back. I groaned and tilted my hips back to make more room for the slab of steel now pulsing between my thighs.
I was absolutely on fire for her. I’d only gotten a glimpse of her in the mirror, and I was dying to get the full show.
“You are tight,” she said.
I bet you are too.
“All the other girls I’ve seen have sucked,” I told her. “I didn’t have high hopes when I came in here.”
“Oh?” Kylie replied, stopping what she was doing. “And why’s that?”
Her lips were twisted to the left and she looked like she was ready to either walk out of the room or slap me.
“Just because…I haven’t had much luck today,” I said slowly, like I was dealing with a wild animal about to pounce.
She thought for a second, looking so fucking adorable that it took every ounce of strength I had not to take her into my arms, then took a breath and nodded.
“Why? What did you think I meant?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said.
She moved in again like she was going to turn my head back down, but I reached out and stopped her. I heard her gasp as my fingers wrapped around her wrist and she froze for a split second.
She was breathtaking, and my heart was racing like I’d just finished an Ironman Triathlon.
I had to have her…
“You have incredible hands,” I told her. “What would you say if I told you I wanted you?”
“Ex—excuse me?” she stammered. “Wanted me?”
“That’s right,” I replied, sitting up on the table. The sheet was definitely raised between my legs, and she could definitely see it.
“I don’t know what kind of massage business you think I’m running here, but we do not offer that kind of service!”
She tried to pull away from me, but I couldn’t let her go. I smiled and shook my head.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Kylie,” I replied. “I meant that—”
“Oh, I know what you meant!” she snapped, tearing herself from my grasp. “And I don’t know what the hell you’ve heard, but this is not one of those places!”
Her outburst shocked me.
What was she so mad about? Sure, I’d been coming onto her, but she’d been flirting too, and it wasn’t like I’d just offered to pay her for sex or anything.
“Kylie,” I said carefully. “What I meant was—”
“Take your things and get the hell out!” Kylie snapped. “If you’re not gone in five minutes, I’m calling the police.”
Before I could say anything else, she was gone, out the door in a flash of soft brown curls and killer curves, leaving me alone on the table with a hard-on that wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
“Shit,” I growled to myself.
Part of me wanted to chase after her, but I could tell that she
was serious about calling the cops. Something I’d done had set her off, and I had to know what so I could apologize.
But now wasn’t the right time.
I collected my things and slid back into my clothes as quickly as possible, doing my best to stuff my dick into my pants, leaving the top button undone.
My whole world felt like it had been turned upside down as I made my way to the car. I felt like I’d just been hit by a blind tackle, and the one responsible was Kylie.
I may have been leaving, but this sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last time I saw her.
I was Trent Baron and I worked for what I wanted, and right then at that moment, I wanted Kylie…
…and I was going to have her.
Chapter Two
Kylie
“Unbelievable!” I shouted as I slammed my fists down on the desk in the back room. I was two seconds away from tears.
“Shhhh!” Ryan hissed. “He’ll hear you!”
“He’s gone,” I snapped. “I heard the front door shut.”
“What happened?”
“He propositioned me!” I replied.
“What? Wait, Trent Baron—”
“Son of a bitch told me he wanted me,” I sighed, shaking my head. “I really am screwed, Ryan. My business is done for.”
“Don’t be too dramatic, Kylie—”
“Dramatic?!” I scoffed. “Oh, so me being afraid I’m going to lose my business because that bitch lied to the cops about my business and we’re on the verge of being shut down? That’s me being dramatic?!”
“That might happen,” he said. “But the cops might not believe Becca’s story…”
