by Desiree Holt
“Um, sorry.” She picked up her bottle of beer. “You know how I block everything out when my hero is on the screen. What did you say?”
“Not important.” He recrossed his legs at the ankle. “So, still got the love affair going on with Joe, huh?”
“Hard not to. He’s the ultimate.”
Joe was silent for a long moment, holding a paper plate with another slice of pizza on it.
“Question,” he said at last. “Did you ever, you know, see any of my games? Look at my stats?”
“Why, Joe Reilly.” She couldn’t help laughing. “Are you jealous of Joe Montana?”
“Of course not. Just curious.” He nodded at the screen. “But I measured up pretty good against him. Just sayin’.”
Surely her ravings about Montana never bothered him. He was an icon in his own right. No, wait. Only his ego was affected, right? Because she was sure Joe Reilly didn’t give a rat’s ass if she idolized him or not. All those women more than did it for him.
The program ended and the silence between them was suddenly thick enough to touch.
Shay cleared her throat. “I’m going to clean this up and then do some reading.”
“Here. I’ll give you a hand.” He sat up and reached for the empty pizza box at the same moment she did, and their heads collided.
“Ouch!” Shay rubbed her forehead.
“Oh. Sorry. Here, let me look at it.”
Joe cupped her face and turned her head so he could see where they’d bumped. Suddenly the air around them changed. Her heartbeat ratcheted up at the hunger that flared in his eyes and her breath stalled in her throat.
For a very long moment neither of them moved. Maybe it was curiosity to finally find out what it would be like to kiss him. Maybe it was the simmering heat of the moment. Whatever it was, she didn’t pull away. So slow the movement was barely detectible, Joe leaned closer and touched his mouth to hers. His lips were cool yet their contact scorched her, heat sizzling through her body clear to her toes. His lean fingers cradled her cheeks with a touch light enough that a whisper of wind would have brushed them away yet Shay was unable to move, afraid to breathe. Every brain cell froze and her heart was beating hard enough she could hear it pounding in her ears.
When Joe’s tongue came out to trace the seam of her mouth, everything in her body went liquid. Her pussy throbbed, her nipples sprang to life, and a desperate hunger gripped her. The soft glide of his tongue was like the touch of velvet, coaxing her to open for him, to accept him. When he slid it between her lips she welcomed it, opening wider for him and letting her own tongue begin a dance with his.
All her life she’d wondered what kissing Joe Reilly would be like. The reality was so much better than anything she’d imagined.
They stayed that way for what seemed forever, exploring each other’s mouths, tasting, licking. The scent of his cologne still tantalized her nostrils and invaded her senses. Everything faded away for Shay except this incredibly sensuous contact. This was not a voracious kiss but a testing. A sexy little dance where neither partner was sure who would lead. As his tongue swept in slow glides, touching sensitive nerves, she hummed with pleasure and explored his taste the same way. Back and forth, an erotic dance that needed no music.
When Joe finally lifted his head enough to break the contact, he stared at her, shock written on his face. Shay locked her gaze with his. Who should speak first? What should she say? What could she say? She’d just exchanged a totally erotic kiss with Joe Reilly.
Joe Reilly!
He still cradled her cheeks in his warm palms, as if unable to let her go. Still neither of them moved or spoke.
Shay was trying to unscramble her brains when Joe dipped his head again and this time there was nothing light or gentle about the kiss. It was a predator’s kiss, ravenous and claiming. His tongue was a slither of flame burning the inside of her mouth everywhere it touched. He didn’t wait for her to offer her own tongue as she’d done before. Instead, he tugged it with his teeth and closed his lips around it, sucking it hard.
He continued to cradle her face, using strong hands to tilt her head this way and that to give himself a better angle. His body, hard and muscular, pressed against hers until she was lying back against the cushions. One lean, jeans-clad thigh insinuated itself between hers, nudging against her quivering pussy through her skimpy shorts.
Her responses were primal, an explosion of the need that had been building for years.
One of his hands slipped down to her arm, then eased beneath her T-shirt. His warm palm cupped one breast, his thumb rasping over the hardened tip. The heat of his body permeated hers, surrounded it. A moan floated in the air and she wasn’t sure whose it was, exactly.
He trailed his lips across her cheek and down the length of her neck. She ran her hands along the hard muscles of his back down to his hips, pulling him more tightly against her. When she arched to him, he took little nips, then soothed the skin with his tongue. Every one of her nerves was firing, her body so hot she was sure she would instantly combust.
He licked the hollow of her throat where her pulse fluttered wildly.
More. I want more.
She dragged his shirt free of his jeans, yanking it over his head, and touched his naked skin with her fingers. His chest was just as hard as she’d imagined, and the curls of hair covering it just as soft and silky. Touching him was like sticking her finger in an electric socket.
She felt his hands grasp her own shirt, pulling it loose.
“Lift up,” he whispered and tugged the shirt over her head.
Next to go was her bra and then his mouth was on her, his lips closing tightly over a beaded nipple. Streaks of high voltage raced to her core as he fed on her like a man with an insatiable appetite. A man in the grip of unquenchable desire. She tried to touch him everywhere, suddenly frantic with need. He sucked and nibbled, the tug of his mouth reaching way down to her pussy.
Her brain melted. With his hot mouth back on hers, feeding impatiently, she was only vaguely aware of the movement of his hands everywhere on her body. Sliding into her shorts and cupping her ass, then easing around to find her very, very wet slit. When he slid two fingers inside her, she clamped down on him and rocked her hips, focused only on satisfying the need raging through her.
“That’s it,” he whispered, his lips at her ear. “God, Shay, you are so hot you’re burning my fingers.”
He moved against her, the heat of his body surrounding her. The hair on his chest brushed erotically against her naked skin as he shifted position slightly. He licked the shell of her ear and traced the line with his tongue. Her responses were primal, raw, uncontrollable. Shivers raced along her spine. She lost all sense of time and place, her entire being focused on the unexpected climax swirling up through her body. It had been such a long time, and her body was so eager, and this man seemed to unlock every one of her secret places.
“Let go.” His voice was raw and urgent. “Let go for me.”
He pressed his thumb to her clit and as if a button opened a magic door, she exploded. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she pulled herself as tight to his touch as she could and rode his hand like a wild horse. When the last spasm subsided, when the last tremor had rippled through her body, she lay there gasping, her heart galloping and her breathing ragged. When she opened her eyes at last, Joe’s face was barely a millimeter away from hers, his eyes still burning with lust.
And then…
Reality slammed into her. Ice water dumped all over her couldn’t have shocked her more. What the hell had she done here? Allowed to happen?
No, no, no, no, no. Big mistake. Huge mistake.
She pushed at him, trying to move him away from her body. She could tell when his brain snapped into focus again and the look of desire was replaced by shock.
Abruptly he sat up, shaking his head. “Jesus. Shay, I—”
“Don’t say a word. Not one word.” If he tried to apologize, she might have to kill him.
>
“Listen, I don’t know what—”
“Shut up, Joe. I mean it. Just shut up.”
She was hot and cold by turns, mortified and embarrassed by what happened. By what she’d allowed to happen.
No more hiding your feelings now, Shay, the ones you were so sure you’d buried.
She scrabbled around for her T-shirt and bra, clutched them to her, and pushed herself off the couch. If she could have somehow melted into the floor she would have. She could tell he was already regretting what happened and she just didn’t want to listen to it. Ignoring the debris from their dinner, she raced to her bedroom and slammed the door.
She’d never be able to face him again. What in God’s name must he be thinking?
* * * *
Joe was actually doing his best not to think. His big brain seemed to have vaporized and his little brain was screaming orders at him. Speaking of his little brain, he was rock hard to the point if he bumped into anything he was afraid his dick would break off and fall to the floor. Maybe it would be best since it seemed intent on dragging him into such trouble.
What the hell was wrong with him? This was Hank’s baby sister. The squirt. The tagalong.
Not any more, hotshot.
That was damn sure. Tonight he’d been seized with the unexpected desire to lick her all over. Because this Shay was a very sexy woman who turned him on full blast. And tempted him. Hell, temptation didn’t even begin to describe her. He only wanted one tiny taste of her. A little something to satisfy him after he’d carried the image of a mature Shay in his mind for so long. Well, he damn sure got his taste. What was the matter with him? Hank would kill him when he found out.
Maybe Shay wouldn’t tell him.
As he carried the empty pizza box, the plates, and bottles into the kitchen, he tried telling himself it would be okay. He’d find a way to make it so. He’d apologize to her.
No, not an apology. No matter how he worded it she’d take it wrong. What was he apologizing for, anyway? The fact he was hot as a pistol for her or the fact he’d acted on it? Would she be insulted? Angry?
Shit. He was supposed to be the expert on women. Now he realized just how little he really knew. Life had always been easy for him in that department. The Bad Company song she’d teased him about, Feel Like Makin’ Love, could have been his theme song.
So he’d cleaned up his act. So what? After tonight he was sure nothing he said would do any good. He’d certainly lived up to her image of him, pawing at her the way he had.
What the hell had come over him, anyway? If he could, he’d kick himself in the ass.
He sure as hell hadn’t the first idea what to say to her now. Her snarky, get-in-your-face attitude certainly wasn’t going to make it easy. Combine that with her image of him as the ultimate playboy and he had a big wall to climb here.
Heading down the hallway, he saw Shay’s door was still closed. As hard as she’d slammed it he wondered it hadn’t fallen off its hinges. He raised his hand to knock, then dropped it. What would he say to her? Sorry I’m an ass? I thought you were someone else? Oh, yeah. That would go over like a lead balloon.
He should go out somewhere. Anywhere. Out of the danger zone.
Perversity made him head for his bedroom, instead. Anyway, where could he go with such a raging hard-on he could barely walk? Yeah, he definitely should have taken himself elsewhere tonight. Lying on his bed, however, with his arm over his eyes, a thought struck him with alarming awareness.
She’d liked it!
Not only liked it, but came apart right there on the couch in his arms with nothing more than his mouth and his fingers touching her. Lifting his right hand, he sniffed the perfume of her liquid, then tortured himself by lapping the traces of it from his fingers.
Pathetic. Completely pathetic.
Yet here he was, obsessing over a woman he had no business even touching and hard as a spike because he never had a chance to get past first base. First base? What was he, in high school?
He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact he wanted to plunge himself inside her, let her wet heat surround him, and ride her until they both exploded. He had to get over this. Especially if they were going to share this house for more than five minutes.
Chapter 3
At eight in the morning, after a mostly sleepless night, Shay reluctantly dragged herself out of bed. Her dreams had been filled with images of Joe Reilly and the feel of his hands as he moved them over her curves. She could still feel the scratch of his stubble as she touched her palms to his cheeks. Still feel the abrasion of the curling hair on his chest against her breasts, teasing her nipples to agonizingly hard points. The heated look in his eyes after he stroked her to orgasm still scorched her body. She ached with rising need even as her brain tried to shut everything down.
She felt stupid. Humiliated. Completely embarrassed as the tendrils of the erotic dream still wound themselves around her. So much for her good intentions and new resolutions.
But oh holy God. The touch of his mouth, his kisses hot, wet, teasing. The way his hands caressed her. The heat he created in her body. Her teenage dreams had barely scratched the surface of the reality. What was it Hank always said? Oh, yeah. Expect the unexpected. No kidding!
Never mind. She could handle this. She just needed to keep reminding herself Joe was still—well, Joe. Hot sports figure who never took anything serious except the game of football itself. Ladies’ man. What happened last night was an aberration, in his life as well as hers.
What prompted him, anyway? She’d give a week’s pay to know what had been going through his mind and what he thought now. For her part she’d just chalk it up to a surge of hormones. That’s all. Her hormones had to be way out of whack. Maybe she could take a pill, or something. Anything to get this out of her system before she made a bigger fool of herself.
She had no idea how she’d face him today. She wanted to jump back into bed, pull the covers over her head, and stay there until Joe left town. Or found someone to shack up with. Of course, that was totally unrealistic.
Her cell phone chimed, and she picked it up from her nightstand.
“Laura out of there okay?”
Shay ground her teeth at Hank’s text. Laura would have been a lot easier to handle. For a moment, she was tempted just to ignore the message. He’d just text her again until she answered him, though. Crap.
“She was gone.” She paused a moment, then typed, “Different houseguest. He needs to leave.”
A long moment passed before Hank texted back.
“Oh, yeah. Forgot. Told Joe he could bunk there. All good.”
No, it was not all good. Not even a little.
“He needs 2 go 2 hotel.”
“B nice, Shay. He’s good friend.”
“Call him. Tell him 2 leave.”
“Told you to take good care of him, right? Do that for me.”
“I can B nicer if he’s in hotel. CALL HIM!!!!!”
She waited and waited. Kept watching the screen. Nope, no more texts came through.
“Damn you, Hank.”
Shay tossed the phone onto the bed. Now what? She’d have to come out of the room sooner or later. She strained her ears to catch any sound of movement in the house but heard nothing. Maybe he was already gone for the day, doing whatever it was he was here in town to handle.
She cracked the bedroom door an inch and listened intently. Still no sound. Okay. If he wasn’t gone maybe he was still sleeping. In which case the tank top and boy shorts she’d slept in would do fine for a quick trip to the kitchen to fix a cup of coffee. Just in case, she walked on tiptoe and held her breath as she moved down the short hall and through the living room. The kitchen was empty. Good so far. She let out a sigh of relief and set about brewing her coffee in the single-cup machine.
“Think you can fix one of those for me?”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Shay jumped at the sound of the deep voice, banging her knee against a cupboard door
and nearly cracking her elbow on the counter. She turned slowly, praying her face showed no emotion. Holy Mother, it was a sin to look that good in the morning. The Fox Sports T-shirt and running shorts did little to disguise the hard, masculine lines of his body. Despite the fact Joe Reilly hadn’t played one down in five years, he obviously worked hard to keep himself in shape. She couldn’t keep her eyes from taking in every inch of his still-athletic body. The scruff on his cheeks and slightly mussed hair only enhanced the sexual hum in the air around him.
Shay closed her eyes for a moment and prayed she was still in her bedroom. That she was just imagining this. Then reality set in, she blinked and realized Joe was taking in every detail of her body as she’d done to him. The tank top and boy shorts seemed suddenly insubstantial, and she wished for a shroud to appear and wrap itself around her. No such luck, so she tried for an attitude of nonchalance.
“Um, yes. Coffee. Sure.” She busied herself taking down mugs and putting the little prepared cups in the machine.
“I need a slug of caffeine before I head out for my run.” His voice was rough with a gravelly, early morning rumble.
Sexy. Way too sexy. A pulse with a mind of its own set up throbbing between her thighs and her nipples hardened and tingled. Damn body! Traitorous body.
“You run every day?” She tried to make distracting conversation.
“Sometimes work prevents me, but I try to get a run in as often as I can. Keeps the leg limber.”
Shay turned to hand him his coffee and her gaze fell automatically to his knee where a white scar bisected the flesh. The knee he’d wrecked in the last game he played. The one the doctors had replaced. She was sure for him it was a constant reminder of the end of his dreams. Shay knew how vital knee flexion is to a quarterback. He needed the ability to keep his legs slightly bent as he stepped in to make the throw and to rotate over the leg on the release. When that was gone, the ability to play disappeared with it.
He saw the direction of her gaze. “I’m good with it. God’s truth. Football gave me a lot of good years and now I have a new career I love. I’m luckier than a lot of guys.”
