by Liz Matis
The Quarterback Sneak
Little Hondo Press
Contact: [email protected]
The Quarterback Sneak
Copyright © 2014 Elizabeth Matis
Smashwords Edition
Digital ISBN: 978-0-9840098-9-3
Print ISBN: 978-0-9908848-0-4
Editor: Karen Dale Harris
Cover Design: The Killion Group
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, scanning, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or hereafter invented, without permission in writing from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Half-Title
Copyright Page
Also by Liz Matis
Praise for Liz Matis
Title Page
Poem
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
About the Author
Keep in Touch with Liz
Other Books by Liz
Also by Liz Matis
Playing For Keeps – print, eBook, and audio book
Going For It – print, eBook and audio book
Huddle Up – print, eBook and audio book
Love By Design – print, eBook, and audio book
Real Men Don’t Drink Appletinis – eBook
Praise for Liz Matis
Love By Design
RT Book Review: Readers will get a kick out of these characters as they walk through a world of fashion and celebrities and soak up all the glitz and glam that a wild child and a bad boy could possibly provide.
Love on the Book Shelf: Don’t hold this book too tight-you-you’ll burn your fingers. It’s also the perfect just-before-bedtime reading, if you’d like some nice, sultry dreams.
ReRead: Totally worth it.
Playing For Keeps – Fantasy Football – Season 1
RT Book Reviews: Playing For Keeps is entertaining … an engaging storyline will keep readers turning the pages … readers will enjoy the unfolding relationship and anticipate the sequel featuring the secondary characters
Book Junkie: In Liz Matis’ latest from Little Hondo Press, Playing For Keeps you will get a wildly sexy romance with depth and laughs. A page turner, bring on the sequel.
Going For It – Fantasy Football – Season 2
RT Book Reviews: Readers will wholeheartedly enjoy the cat-and-mouse game the main couple plays. Expect a large dose of spice, surprises, and a story that’s perfect for the front page of a tabloid. The sequel to Playing For Keeps is a touchdown!
Book Junkie: I loved GOING FOR IT because falling hard and fast for two witty, feisty and completely honest characters that do nothing if not capture your heart and take you on the wild ride that is their love story.
The Quarterback Sneak
Fantasy Football – Season 4
Liz Matis
I see
her,
the real her
beyond what the world thinks
yes,
in my eyes, she is
beautiful
wild
but,
with my heart, she is
love
everything
mine
I see with my heart
Liz Matis – as told to by Liam McQueen
Chapter 1
Liam McQueen knew he shouldn’t be inside Martini Madness or any place that served alcohol. Two years, one month, three weeks, five days sober. And celibate. Though going without a drink had proven more difficult than laying off the women. Alcohol had been his mistress, and he still heard the siren calling to his weak soul. He fortified himself with a prayer as he maneuvered through the club.
Three of his offensive linemen surrounded him, fiercely guarding their quarterback’s body as if they were still on the football field. Tonight Liam was returning the favor, protecting his teammates as their designated driver and general all-around babysitter. It wouldn’t help the New York Cougar’s upcoming season if one of them landed in jail.
Upon reaching the club’s swanky VIP section, his buddies beelined for the decorations—the pretty women let inside as bait to lure wealthy men into dropping serious cash. Liam had his fill of groupies and party girls. Deserted, he found an empty bar stool and looked around.
The glass-enclosed area allowed the music to filter in at a level that encouraged conversation, yet let the wannabes outside the glass feel like they were part of the scene, where D-list celebrities mingled with pro athletes.
From his spot, Liam had a front-row seat as he watched his largest lineman fumble a play on a hot redhead. Poor schmuck. Maybe he should help Murphy out and be his wingman for the night.
“What’s your poison?” asked a sultry voice from behind the neon-lit bar.
Poison. Liam almost laughed at the truth in the word. The name of his favorite Scotch burned on his tongue.
Spinning his stool back around, he faced the bartender, a hot blonde with big boobs spilling over her low-cut shirt. She flashed him a smile bright enough for a whitening-toothpaste commercial. Three years ago, he would have simply nodded toward the nearest bathroom, and faster than it took him to call an audible on a play, they would have been going at it like a pair of drunken monkeys. His former self disgusted him.
All he wanted now was a nice girl to settle down with. A nice girl who liked sex, he amended.
“Red Bull,” he said.
“With?” The suggestive hint in her voice left no doubt of her interest in him.
“Designated driver.”
“Bummer.”
“Yeah, it sure is.” But if he hadn’t gone off the wagon after single-handedly losing the Championship seven months ago, then he wouldn’t take a drink now. Not even the daily reminders of defeat—fans who taunted him on the street—could break his resolve. His response at least seemed to shut them up effectively. You’re right. I suck.
The New York fans were a fickle bunch. With a single throw, they’d forgotten how after Todd, the Cougars’ star quarterback, had broken his leg, Liam had stepped in to lead them to the big game. Would the Cougars have won the Championship if Todd still had been the quarterback? According to social media, the answer was a resounding yes.
Apparently the team’s management agreed. Otherwise Liam wouldn’t have had to compete with Romer, the Cougars’ number-one draft choice, for the starting position. A competition Liam had won. For now.
And he couldn’t even celebrate with a toast.
Turning his head toward a commotion at the VIP entrance, he expected to see a major celebrity. But it was just another washed-up reality star. The team owner’s hellion of a daughter, Hayden Middleton, had arrived with her entourage in tow.
An off-the-shoulder red cocktail dress hugged the tabloid darling’s every curve, like she was channeling a plus-sized Jessica Rabbit. Even her long, cinnamon-brown hair was swept to one side. Wearing ridiculously high heels, she probably could meet Lia
m’s six-foot-three gaze head on.
He swiveled his stool, resting his elbows on the bar rail behind him and watched her approach. Damn. She was going to walk right by him like he didn’t exist. “Hey, Hayden.”
Without missing a beat, she turned her head. “Hey, loser.”
“Ouch.” He grabbed his chest as if she’d struck him in the heart with an arrow. Yet it wasn’t her comment that stung. Those robin’s-egg-blue eyes landed a sucker punch to his gut every time she looked his way.
As she strolled by him, his gaze dropped to her sashaying backside. The judge should have sentenced the spoiled brat to a good solid spanking instead of yet another probation. His cock hardened painfully at the thought of carrying out her punishment himself. Hayden starred in his fantasies way more often than he’d like. Okay, so maybe staying celibate was more difficult than staying sober. One always seemed to fuel the other.
Where the mind leads the body will follow, he reminded himself and he looked away. At this rate, he’d be praying for salvation tomorrow instead of focusing on football practice. And when it came to Hayden Middleton, he’d be consorting with the devil’s handmaiden. Not that consorting was the problem. The woman hated him, which he supposed made things easier. Less tempting…
Dear God, he wanted a drink. A Scapa Scotch. Wanted to swirl the autumn-gold liquid, inhale the honeyed fragrance, savor the sweet smoothness, feel the cool burn down his throat and then the blessed relief as the warmth spread to every part of his body.
As he glanced at Hayden again, he crushed the empty Red Bull can, then deliberately looked away. He liked to think he had mastered his addiction. That he had control. Sometimes he’d order a drink and then walk away from it, thinking he’d won a small battle of what would be a lifelong war.
A sudden roar of voices jolted him out of his pity party. His teammates were egging on two men who were nose to nose, shouting at each other, and there was Hayden adding her two thousand cents in. When the shorter guy’s suit jacket flapped open, revealing a gun, Liam tossed a hundred dollar bill on the bar. Time to go.
In a flash he reached his unaware teammates. “We need to get out of here.” He placed a hand on Hayden’s shoulder. “You too,” he told her.
Elbowing him in the gut, she tried to wedge herself between the two guys. She shot Liam a look that made it perfectly clear that she could take care of herself. Besides, it was her entourage causing the trouble. None of that mattered, though. He owed her father for giving him a second chance when no other team in the league would.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the shorter guy’s hand reaching for the gun. “Out,” he ordered again.
This time his teammates took off.
With no time to argue, he threw Hayden over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Tuning out her protests, he plowed toward the exit while doing his best to ignore the bodacious booty inches from his face. There was going to be hell to pay.
And Liam couldn’t afford the price.
Chapter 2
“Put me down!” The ignoramus carrying her didn’t comply. Hayden wasn’t sure if Liam McQueen was simply ignoring her, or if he couldn’t hear her over the blaring music in the main area of the bar. She screamed again and wiggled her body, beating her fists against his back.
This earned her a hard smack on the ass. Oh! Rather than offend her, the sting sent tingles of pleasure straight to her so-not-a-lady parts. This wasn’t happening. Hayden Middleton was not being carried through the upscale Martini Madness Lounge like a sack of jiggling potatoes. And she was not enjoying it. Well, maybe a little.
As Liam stepped outside, the warm night breeze whooshed up her dress, causing the tingles to intensify. The paparazzi’s flashbulbs lit up like a night at the Oscars. Her father was going to kill her. At least she was wearing panties. Screaming at Liam now would only create a bigger scene, so she remained silent.
A loud pop sounded. Gunfire? Then another pop. Holy shit, definitely gunfire!
Liam broke into a run, and her stomach bounced up and down on his shoulder, until he placed his large firm hand on her ass to steady her. She imagined him reaching up beneath her skirt with those talented fingers. Now she wiggled for a different reason.
“Saving the princess, McQueen?”
“Someone has to,” Liam answered.
Upside down, she couldn’t see which of her father’s players waited for them near Liam’s Hummer. Her fat ass must have slowed him down considerably.
“Now will you put me down?” she demanded. She was no lightweight. And as much as the quarterback irritated her, she didn’t want him to throw out his back. Yet, another thing for her father to blame her for.
Liam set her down and buzzed the locks open. “Everyone, get in.”
She didn’t need to be told twice. If the judge found out she’d been anywhere near a gun—never mind an active shooting—her probation could be revoked. And Hayden wouldn’t be caught dead in a prison jumpsuit. In her world, orange was not the new black.
She took the front seat beside Liam while the other three—Hondo, Murphy, and Moore—squashed into the back. A bit of guilt nipped at her conscience, but they were used to being in close contact, in the huddle or on the line protecting Liam. Besides, her ass was probably as big as any of theirs.
“Buckle up,” Liam said.
She rolled her eyes, but complied. “Okay, Boy Scout.”
“Maybe,” Liam said tightly as he screeched away from the curb, “if you were more of a Girl Scout, then we wouldn’t be in this predicament.” The two cop cars speeding by in the opposite direction wailed, punctuating his point.
He was, of course, referring to her many run-ins with the law and authority figures in general. That didn’t mean she had to like what he said. “Did I say Boy Scout? I meant Dad.”
A couple of laughs sounded from the backseat.
Hondo, the Cougars’ center, leaned forward. “Excuse me for interrupting this amusing foreplay, but what the fuck is going on?”
“Hey, there’s a lady present.” Liam peered at the rearview mirror.
Hearing snorts from the back, Hayden shot the three linemen a nasty side-glance. Then she turned to Liam. “But really, what the fuck is going on?”
“You’d know better than me. All I saw was the runt of the litter reaching for a gun. Knew we had to get out of Dodge, so to speak.”
The runt would be her brother’s idiot friend, Franko. What was he doing with a gun? She knew the guy had a Napoleon complex, but a gun?
“Okay, so where to now? Another bar?” Hondo asked.
“Good idea, Honcho,” Hayden said.
“It’s Hondo.”
“Whatever.” Since the embarrassment of her father banning her from the owner’s box last year, she pretended she didn’t know all the names of the players, acting as if they were as interchangeable as her shoes. But in fact, she knew every name, every stat.
“I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night,” Liam said.
“Okay, Dad.” Raucous laughter followed Murphy’s jibe.
Hayden couldn’t suppress a giggle. She peeked over at Liam as he concentrated on the pothole-infested New York City streets. The QB was definitely not interchangeable. The lights from the dashboard shone off his wavy reddish-brown hair, and his eyes sparkled like her favorite chocolate-diamond necklace.
Her gaze traveled down his body. He was more farm-strong than weight-room bulky. Unlike the typical tall and lean quarterback type, he had the frame of a tight end, still tall, but all solid, thick muscle with corded forearms and biceps meant for baling hay. And for throwing wayward heiresses over his shoulder.
“What?” Liam asked, leveling a gaze her way.
Caught staring, she stumbled over a question. “So what bar is it going to be?”
“I’m taking you home.”
She looked out the window to see that he was indeed heading to her place along Central Park. “Are you crazy? The paparazzi will be swarming my bu
ilding.”
“Too soon. There’s no way word got out yet.”
“Oh, they’ll be there. And your caveman tactics will be on the front page of all the morning papers.”
“A caveman would’ve dragged you out by your hair.” He flashed her a wicked grin. “I much preferred my way.”
Heat bloomed in her cheeks as catcalls and whistles sounded from the backseat. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d blushed.
The Hummer approached her building and, as she expected, a crowd of the usual paparazzi-suspects lay in wait. She should have moved after her reality show ended. Everyone knew where she lived, including Liam. Hmmm. Had he watched Hayden’s Place?
“How the heck did they find out so fast?” he muttered.
Hayden snorted. “The bloodsuckers have a network that the NSA would envy.”
He turned his head and smiled at her. Not a wicked grin or a challenging smirk, but a genuine smile.
Her body felt like she’d taken a shot of tequila. Shock and then a nice warm feeling. Considering she hadn’t had a drink in six months, it was a welcome substitute. She had to be sure she didn’t become addicted to the feeling. The sooner Liam dropped her off somewhere, the better. She’d made enough poor decisions that landed her in the press. She didn’t need to make another one with her father’s quarterback.
Not that she didn’t crave the limelight like an attention-starved child. But for once, she’d like to be in the news for something positive. The charity work she did meant squat. The media wasn’t interested in the good Hayden Middleton, and neither were men.
“Drop us off at Chancey’s,” Moore said. “It’s only a few blocks over.”
Liam sighed. “Promise you’ll call the car service the team provides?”
Moore lifted four fingers. “Scout’s honor.” Another round of laughter filled the Hummer.
“You’re doing it wrong.” Liam held up three fingers, but then put his thumb and pinkie finger together.
Hayden’s eyes widened. “You really were a Boy Scout?
