Block and Tackle

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Block and Tackle Page 22

by Elise Faber


  I had to trust him… the one man I thought I hated more than any other. It was a painful irony, but I wasn’t willing or able to step away from it; rather, I felt myself being pulled deeper and deeper with every touch, every kiss.

  Bryce was finally on the mend, and just in time for Sunday night football. The Hawks had a game against the Cardinals, one they were anxious to put behind them. As usual, he was up with the sun and gone before I was even dreaming about my coffee.

  The light from my window overlooking Lake Washington was abnormally bright, and I blinked against the rare sunlight. With over three-hundred days of rain a year, Seattle wasn’t exactly known for its great weather, but when the sun did appear? Let’s just say there was a reason it was nicknamed the Emerald City. Nothing could compare. I rose from bed and padded over to the window, sweeping the sheer drapes aside and smiling to myself. The lake was a brilliant blue, reflecting the few puffy clouds scattered across the sky, a stark contrast to the deep evergreen of the lush forest backdrop. A few boats raced across the water, their motors a familiar and warm sound, even if it was cold outside.

  I grabbed my phone and headed down the stairs, but skidded to a halt as the door opened.

  My heart raced, my mind flipping through self-defense training in the few seconds it took to get a glimpse of Markus.

  “You freaked me out! What’s wrong with you!” I took the rest of the steps quickly, glaring.

  He raised his hands in surrender while his warm gaze assessed me before grinning. “Ah, that makes more sense. And you wouldn’t have been freaked out if you checked your phone every once and a while.” He winked then walked to the kitchen.

  Sure enough, I checked my phone and saw a few texts, all from him, warning me that he was on his way, so if I heard something downstairs, not to shoot it.

  He knew me well.

  “Coffee?” he asked, lifting the carafe.

  “All the coffee. All.” I pulled down a mug and handed it over.

  “I’ll… just make another pot,” he teased as he poured the black liquid into my favorite Seahawks mug.

  “Wise.” I took a long sip, savoring the bitterness of it when I glanced up, noticing Markus’ rapt attention. “What?”

  “I like this… seeing you in the morning. If I wanted to risk my life, I’d kiss you, but I’m thinking coffee would win out.” He leaned against the island counter, his dimples making me forget about my morning brew for a moment — which was a feat in and of itself.

  “Hmm… I think the bigger risk is that I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.” I winked back, trying to lighten the now-intense atmosphere.

  He narrowed his eyes and took a step away from me.

  “Low,” I retorted, hiding my lips behind my coffee cup.

  “Just taking your advice…” He grinned.

  “Ugh. Make yourself useful and make me breakfast while I get ready. Then I might kiss you.”

  “Only if you brush your teeth.”

  I flipped him off.

  “And take a shower, dirty girl.”

  “Bite me!” I yelled back as I took the stairs, my face aching from the wide smile.

  I brushed my teeth, took off my clothes, and was holding my towel, but before I could start the shower, a knock sounded on the bathroom door. I wrapped the towel around me and smiled. “I’m naked!”

  The door opened quickly. “Damn. I knew you were lying.”

  Markus’ grin captured all my attention. I’d always loved it, the slightly crooked smile was my kryptonite.

  And he was holding out another cup of coffee. My other kryptonite.

  “Here. Since the other one you had was a few hours old.” He shrugged, handing it to me.

  “Thanks.” I inhaled deeply of the rich and bitter aroma but didn’t take a drink. I simply set it on the counter and turned back to him.

  “Did you just pick me over coffee? I think… yeah, pretty sure this is as good as it gets.” He nodded sagely, and I poked his ribs. “Hey! Just recognizing the moment!”

  “I brushed my teeth,” I explained, shrugging.

  “Oh well, that sucks. Here I thought I was a step above, when really you just don’t want it to taste weird. I’m kinda crushed. You should probably kiss me, make me feel better,” he added seriously.

  Laughing, I rolled my eyes and gave him a quick peck then retreated.

  “Disappointing,” he mumbled, eyes still closed, waiting.

  I rolled my eyes for a second time and kissed him again, but he wasn’t about to let me get away this time. Strong arms banded around me, pulling me in close, so close that I didn’t even have to hold the towel in place, his body trapping it between us.

  Freed from their job, my hands traced up his button-up shirt and linked around his neck, pulling him in tighter. Long fingers inched up my back and down my bare arms, giving me goose bumps, and I gasped as his mouth left mine. He worked his way down my neck and trailed kisses along my shoulder. My fingers dug into his hair, anchoring myself to him, tugging, catching fire as I could felt the way his body hardened.

  My blood surged through my veins as my heart pounded harder, faster, wanting so much more than a kiss, needing more. I tugged at his shirt, untucking it from his jeans. But unless I stepped away from him, I couldn’t reach all the buttons.

  As if reading my mind, he leaned his body back from me, while still working sweet torture over my lips, nipping and tasting, teasing and sucking, and before I knew it, the sound of his shirt hitting the floor broke through my haze of desire. Warm skin met mine, and I realized the towel that had been wrapped around me was gone, leaving skin on skin. His kiss deepened, stealing my attention till he broke the moment almost violently and kicked off his shoes; the rest of his clothes followed. A moment later, he lifted me in his arms and pressed my back against the bathroom wall, devouring every inch of flesh he could reach with his mouth. The world seemed to disappear, and all I could think was how much I wanted, how much I needed, and how I was so frustrated he was only kissing me — till he wasn’t.

  I blinked, then my focus slowly fixated on his crystal-blue eyes… on the way his shoulders rose and fell with his breath…

  “Ava,” he murmured, caressing me with his tone. I’d always loved my name, but when he said it, it sounded like music.

  I reached up and gently traced his jawline with my fingers, gasping as he arched slightly and filled me. The moment froze, but every moment after accelerated with each thrust, each gasp, each flex of his shoulders and his back till the moments all blended in a heat that burst into a million shooting stars and fell to earth. With a final thrust, he joined me, my world shattering and rebuilding all at one time.

  This changed everything.

  Markus leaned forward, capturing my lips once more. They ached, but it was a sweet sensation, and I pressed in for more of his gentle attention.

  He gently set me down, and with a slight grin, started the shower. “Two fantasies in one day… Just so you know, I’m probably buying a lottery ticket later on.”

  I swatted at him, thankful for the light teasing atmosphere.

  “Two?” I asked, curiously tickling me.

  He adjusted the hot water and held out a hand for me, opening the shower door. “Yes, and nothing I could have imagined even compared.”

  I stepped into the shower with a huge grin then sighed as the hot water cascaded down my back. Thankfully, my hair was still in a messy bun, so I wouldn’t have to deal with drying it later.

  “Are you going to share?” Markus asked as he closed the large glass shower door.

  I could stare at him for hours, the way his chest cut down into a deep V… the curve and shape of his broad shoulders… the way his blue eyes seared me…

  “Maybe.” I shrugged then turned the knob for the rain shower just above his head.

  “Shit! That’s cold!” He tensed and dodged the icy stream then glared at me as the water slowly warmed.

  “Sorry?”

  “I’ll remember that,�
� he threatened with a smile.

  “I’m sure you will.” I reached for the soap. “Now turn around.” Slowly I made my way over his back, taking my time as I mapped his skin with my palms. I traveled down, tracing my fingers over his ass and massaging down to his calves. His voice came out strangled. “Yeah, if you keep doing that, we’re not going to make it to the game, ever.”

  I gave a dark chuckle. “Turn around.”

  He did as I asked, his eyes smoldering, hungry, his body ready. I took my time rubbing the soap down his chest, lower till he swore and pressed me against the shower tile, only this time I arched against him, giving as well as taking, participating in the lovemaking till we both found release once more, the steam from the hot water swirling around us. And like before, he ended everything with a kiss, and it spoke far louder than any words.

  After the shower, I wrapped my towel around myself and walked into my room, smiling as I heard Markus start to put his clothes back on in the bathroom. I left the door open so I could watch, enjoying the view.

  I dressed for the game in my Seahawks leggings, jersey with Bryce’s number, and several other less-noticeable layers. Living in Seattle meant the weather was anything but predictable, so layering was an act of survival.

  “Damn it, you’re dressed already.” Markus’ voice had me glancing to the open door.

  “Yup. You missed the show. It was epic. I did a dance and everything.” I winked and walked over to where he waited, a dorky smile lifting one side of his jaw.

  He chuckled and handed me the forgotten coffee, the aroma filling the room and bringing a smile to my lips.

  “I’ll bring more if you start the dance all over again, but only if you start from the very beginning — you know, before you were wearing all the layers. What is it with women and layers? Wear a freaking coat!” he teased, tugging on my jersey playfully.

  “I get cold.” I shrugged, grinning behind my coffee cup.

  “Did you miss the coat answer? Why the—” He paused, mouthing numbers. “You’re in three layers — four, if you wear that Seahawks hoodie hanging over the chair.” He nodded in its direction.

  “Because if I layer, I look cute. You see my clothes. If I wear a coat, you just see the coat.”

  He blinked, digesting my words. “Seriously.”

  “Call it family loyalty.”

  Markus paled, glancing away, and a rock settled in my stomach, making my entire body feel heavy. What did that expression mean?

  “Markus…” I trailed off, suddenly insecure. The warm teasing atmosphere had turned into a frosty stillness.

  “I— Nothing.” He shook his head, as if tossing away whatever thought had created the shift and gave me a warm smile.

  I almost believed it.

  “Not nothing.” I narrowed my eyes.

  “Really. I just… did something out of order. Something important. I’ll fix it.”

  I frowned, confused. “I—”

  He closed the distance between us, taking my waist in his hand and pulling me in tight, then seared a kiss across my lips, silencing me. I tried to pull away, but he simply pursued my mouth, coaxing me into silence, into forgetting what I wanted to ask.

  Marcus’ lips devoured all my attention, and I was powerless to back away, to want anything but more, so much more. When his kiss gentled, it was he who pulled away. He leaned his forehead against mine, the rapid breathing and pounding heartbeat of mine simply echoing his.

  “We need to go. I don’t want to be late… but I really, really just want to lock you in this room.”

  I drew my lower lip into my mouth, biting it gently. “It’s a pretty tempting idea, but Bryce needs us there. Besides, it will give us time to anticipate round three.” I leaned forward and tasted his lips, tracing my tongue over the smooth texture, breathing in his growl as he returned the kiss.

  “Anticipation is overrated,” he murmured against my mouth.

  “Anticipation is everything,” I replied after I gave a final solid kiss, “so start making me anticipate,” I challenged and laced my fingers through his then tugged him toward the door.

  “You’re dangerous.” He chuckled as he reluctantly followed me.

  “You have no idea,” I replied, keeping my tone light, but I felt the grip of anxiety clench in my stomach because all I could think was that I wasn’t the dangerous one.

  It was too much, too fast, and I hadn’t even realized that I was already on the other side, that I loved him. And nothing could have scared me more.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Markus

  HALFTIME APPROACHED, AND the Seahawks were down by a touchdown and a field goal. Bryce had played well, but the offense was struggling in making plays. I’d given up my usual seat to sit with Ava in her box. Even though they weren’t winning, I couldn’t remember a time when I’d enjoyed a game more. Usually tense, I was totally at ease, sipping on a Corona and holding Ava’s hand, as if it was normal. And it was. The only thing that kept nipping at my brain was Bryce’s words — rather, his threat. I hadn’t thought about it till Ava had mentioned family loyalty. In a way, I felt like I’d betrayed Bryce’s trust. But didn’t Ava’s trust matter more? Could I have somehow been loyal to them both? But what could I do? I’d already crossed that bridge and — damn it all —I was not going back. Nor did I want to. I wouldn’t trade those moments with Ava for anything — but would Bryce understand that? Probably not. And he was like a brother. No matter how I looked at it, I was screwed.

  “You’re quiet.” Ava turned to me, her deep brown eyes too aware.

  “Thinking about how to escape your brother’s wrath with my life,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light.

  “Well… good luck with that.” She patted my knee and grinned.

  After narrowing my eyes at her, I saw a flicker of movement on the field, and I watched as the teams took the sidelines again from halftime. They set up in defense formation, and after the whistle blew, I watched as Bryce tackled a wide receiver. Ava clapped while the guy went tumbling. Then time seemed to freeze.

  Bryce hadn’t moved from his position on the field. An injury timeout was called, and the medics ran out. Slowly I stood and leaned closer to the window, trying to see what they were doing, if he was moving at all. I heard a quiet sob from Ava.

  My breath froze in my chest. It was like déjà vu, the scene unfolding like it had years before, leading to that moment when she’d stormed into my office… and out of my life.

  No.

  “Ava.” I reached out, praying she’d come to me, that she wouldn’t look at me with that icy glare that still haunted me.

  Her brown eyes snapped to mine, but rather than hostility or blame, I saw fear, and immediately she collapsed into my arms. Her small frame felt so vulnerable, so fragile.

  “Look, Ava. He’s moving.”

  We watched silently, as Bryce moved his legs a bit while the medics bent over his frame, checking his body before helping him to stand and walk off the field. They assisted him toward the building that led to the medic room.

  “Let’s go.” I released Ava’s body and grasped her hand tightly.

  We took the elevator down to the lower floor, passed through security, then took the several corridors to the main examination room.

  “Hal, what’s up?” I asked one of the team’s sports therapists.

  “Hey, guys. Ava… he’s fine. Concussion protocol. He went in a few minutes ago, and he’ll be out here in about five more. They’ll take a few x-rays to be sure, and he’s not going out on this game anymore, but he’s just fine.” Hal gave an assuring smile to Ava then turned to me. “Go ahead and take a seat.”

  Ava’s hand was freezing, and I wrapped my other one around it, trying to warm it. “He’s okay. The NFL has a really rigorous concussion protocol. It’s a good thing.”

  “I know. It’s just…”

  “Too close.”

  “Yeah. Lots of memories…” She trailed off, her gaze fixed on the door where Bryce was b
eing examined.

  Lots of memories I want to leave in the past, I thought to myself, just as the door opened, and Bryce walked out carrying his plastic shoulder pads, a wry grin on his face as he saw his sister.

  Ava stood and ran over to him, catapulting herself into his arms, the pads making a plastic clack at the force of her body. “You freaked the hell out of me.” She leaned back, shoving at him. “Don’t do that to me! Okay. You’re okay… aren’t you?” she asked, pulling him back in for a tight hug.

  “Yeah, yeah. Fine. Annoyed as hell, but fine.”

  “You’re annoyed,” she grumbled, but her words had no fire to them.

  “Sorry for scaring you,” Bryce murmured, holding her close.

  “Sorry for shoving you,” she answered.

  Bryce chuckled then glanced to me. “Well, what are you sorry for, Markus?”

  I tried to grin, hating how much his words hit home.

  He seemed about to glance away, but then his eyes narrowed. He turned to Ava and lifted her hand then glanced to me meaningfully.

  “We’re ready for you.” Another nurse came out, motioning toward the room marked X-RAY in big bold letters.

  Bryce cleared his throat then pointed with two fingers to his eyes then to me in the universal sign of “I’m watching you.”’

  Ava walked over to me as Bryce went into the next room. “What was that all about?”

  “You know how I said I was wondering how to survive your brother’s wrath?” I rubbed the back of my neck.

  “Yeah…” She tilted her head quizzically.

  “I’m assuming you want me around for a while… right?” I took her hand, totally winging the moment.

  “Define a while.” She arched a brow.

  “Hey, Hal. How long till Bryce is released?” I asked, postponing my answer to Ava’s question.

  “At least a couple of hours. They’ll want to keep him for a bit of observation just to make sure—”

 

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