by Desiree Holt
“Easy, stud,” she murmured.
He was always so primed, his fingers wrapped around his thick, swollen cock as if holding it in check. And maybe he was, because it never took long for that first orgasm.
They had to be very careful because of his injuries, but it amazed her how inventive they’d become. Their lust, or whatever they might call it, was always on a hair trigger. It seemed no matter how often they were together, how many orgasms they gave each other, it was never enough.
She still carried the image of the scene when she’d walked into his room after he had what was obviously a major wet dream. Copious semen spread over his fingers and hand and even dripped down to his balls. When she’d cleaned him up that day, she’d had to call on all her willpower not to use her tongue to do it, to lick every drop from his skin.
Looking at him now, she licked her lips at the memory of her first taste of him. Pleasantly salty and tart, like a great bedtime snack. It had become one of her favorite things to do with him. And it was the first thing on her agenda tonight.
“Straddle me backwards,” he told her in a rasping voice.
Usually she knelt between his thighs to give her access to every area of his groin.
She frowned. “Why?”
“Because I want my hands all over that gorgeous ass of yours. One of these days when I’m back in one piece again, I’m going to take you back here and give you the best orgasm of your life.”
Shivers skated over her spine at his words, and the walls of her pussy fluttered with need. That was one thing she’d never done with anyone, always believing it was too personal to share except with someone very special. But Jake was steadily becoming that “someone special” to her, despite her initial resistance to him. Now the image of that act ramped up the desire surging through her.
“I’ll have to sit on your chest,” she warned him.
“Exactly what I had in mind.” He moved his hands to give her room. “Come on. Bring that sweet ass up here to me.”
With very precise movements, she arranged herself so she sat squarely on his very hard, very firm chest, legs on either side of his hips. Licking her lips in anticipation, she curled the fingers of one hand around his very hard shaft and leaned forward to lap the soft velvet of the head. Teasingly she dipped the tip of her tongue into the slit, bringing a gasp of pleasure from Jake.
“Like that, do you?” she asked.
“You know it, babe. That tongue of yours is a magic wand.”
“Oh,” she teased, “I think you’re the one with the magic wand.”
She bent to her task again, a most pleasant one, sliding her fingers from root to tip and back in a steady rhythm, punctuating the strokes with swirls of her tongue around the head. With her other hand she cupped his balls, loving the feel of the soft skin that contained them. She worked his cock, and she manipulated his balls, humming against him in satisfaction.
The contact of his hands on the cheeks of her ass sent an electrical shock through her, one that intensified when he trailed his fingertips through the hot crevice separating those globes. When he pressed the tip of one finger hard against her rear opening, she sucked in a breath, dragging her teeth the length of his hard dick.
“Jesus, babe,” Jake gasped. “I’m so primed I can come any second.”
“That’s because you can’t wait for me to get here,” she teased, “and always start without me.”
“Actually, it’s because just thinking of you naked like this with your mouth on me gets me so hot I have to squeeze tight to keep from going off by myself again.”
“I should have licked you clean with my mouth that day instead of just cleaning you up.”
His body tightened beneath her. “Well, here’s your chance. Do it hard, babe. Real hard.”
She took him in her mouth again and sucked, pulled, and squeezed until in seconds he erupted, spurting into her mouth like a geyser. Her throat worked rhythmically as she swallowed the thick semen, relishing its taste. When she had milked him dry, she drew her mouth slowly up the length of him, gave the soft head one last lick, and sighed.
Moving carefully, she turned herself around and knelt between his thighs. His face was flushed with the aftereffects of his release, and his eyes had darkened almost to a rich chocolate. His chest heaved with the effort to breathe steadily, and she was sure his heart rate was above the normal line on the chart.
Her own body was already aroused, even more so as she licked her lips to catch the last lingering taste of his cum. Her pussy throbbed with need and her nipples just begged for his mouth or his hands.
As if reading her thoughts, he lifted his hands, albeit a little unsteadily, cupped her breasts, and pinched her nipples between thumb and forefingers. She sucked in a breath, leaning into his touch, wanting—
Erin sat up in bed, heart racing, her breath trapped in her throat, stunned to find herself pinching her nipples.
Holy shit!
This was so not good. Not good at all.
She had to stop having these erotic dreams about this man. Surely she had more discipline than this. Maybe she should have brought her vibrator with her, but Mr. Big Guy had somehow seemed inappropriate for this situation. Instead, she existed in a constant state of sexual frustration for a man she couldn’t allow herself to care for.
Just like before, she threw back the covers and headed for the bathroom. Water. She needed a cold drink of water. Always did after one of these intense, scorching dreams. Then she dampened a washcloth and ran it over the clammy skin of her face. She really could use a shower, but when she checked the time on her cell phone, she saw it was two o’clock in the morning. The shower would have to wait until she got up for good.
She slid back beneath the covers and pulled them up to her chin. Her body still throbbed with need, and her brain whirled with the images from the dream. Images she had not been able to block since the day she’d walked in on Jake with his dick in his hand. What the hell was she supposed to do? How had she ever thought she could last all this time? Bad on her for letting Ivy play on her sympathy and her financial situation.
Since the ill-fated lunch, they had been tiptoeing around each other like two tigers in a cage, waiting for the first one to pounce. They’d established a routine and never varied from it. He’d gone back to having his meals on a tray in bed, exchanging only the minimum amount of words with her. He watched television, napped, or sulked. Those seemed to be his main activities. Even when she helped him across the room to the bathroom and back, they might as well have been two strangers.
Well, she told herself, isn’t this what you wanted?
They had added one activity to their routine that was both good and bad. Dr. Moline had sent a therapist to show her some of the simple exercises Jake needed to do with his uninjured leg and wrist so he wouldn’t lose his flexibility. Of course he bitched about everything and touching him set off fires raging along her nerves and in her very susceptible pussy. Keeping her objectivity was getting to be harder and harder. Talk about torture.
Still, she wondered what kind of hot button The Good Shepard House was. It had certainly sent him into full retreat, deep into a shell she had been unable to breech.
Lying there, she ticked off the chores she’d completed. She’d called Eye Candy Mandy back, blocking out the sound of the screech when Erin told her Jake was not accepting calls or visitors.
“But he’ll see me,” she’d insisted. “He always wants to see me. Are you sure he knows I called?”
“He was very specific that he’s not taking phone calls or seeing visitors,” Erin had told her with as much patience as she could muster. “He asks you to respect his wishes.”
“Hmmm.” Silence. “Okay, maybe I’ll wait a few days and then just show up.” She’d laughed, low and sultry. “I promise he won’t turn me away.”
“That’s a very a bad idea. I’d hate to call someone to throw you out.”
“Wait
. Just who did you say you were?”
“I’m his personal assistant,” Erin had told her in a smooth voice.
“Well, he gets personal with me, too,” Mandy had snapped. “We’ll just see who calls the shots here.” She’d clicked off.
Erin shrugged. Oh well, if the bimbo showed up, she’d figure out what to do with her. Anyway, first she’d have to get past the gate code.
She’d also returned the other calls Jake had agreed to let her handle, including the one to Joe Reilly.
“We sort of lost touch with each other,” Joe had said, regret in his voice. “We were tight in high school, but then we went to different universities and got drafted by different teams. He should know there are a lot of the Coyotes still around in San Antonio and Austin. Not all of them are still playing. Some of them didn’t even go pro. But we’re trying to reconnect with each other.”
“I’m sure he’d love to be included,” Erin had told him.
“My wife started a Facebook page. Coyotes Win.” He’d chuckled “A little corny but it works for us. I’ll check and see if he has a Facebook account and send him a message.”
“I’ll tell him about it, too.”
“So when do you think it would be okay to come by?” Joe asked. “The Coyotes are going to retire his number the last game of the season, and I’d like to do some prep on it.”
“I’d say call me back in a couple of weeks. He’s really not into company right now.”
“I’ll bet this injury really rocked him,” Joe had guessed.
“Yes, it has. He’s sure his life will be over if he doesn’t get to play his last couple of years.”
“I may be able to help him out with that.” Joe had given a short laugh. “Show him there really is life after football.”
“That would really be great. How about if you call me back in two weeks and we’ll test the waters?”
“Good deal. Talk to you then.” Jake was going to be very busy two weeks from now.
Yesterday she’d gotten a text from her bank about a deposit processing in her account. She’d given the account number to Ivy who told her she’d be paid by direct deposit. Even knowing what she’d been promised, the amount still astonished her. It also nagged her conscience. For that much money, surely she could put aside her prejudice against football players in general and Jake in particular.
But that was easier said than done, especially since the nagging surge of lust that she felt every time she was near him completely clouded her judgment. The most difficult times for her were whenever she had to touch him, like helping him exercise his uninjured limbs. And he sure didn’t make it easy for her, knowing every touch pushed her buttons. By now her nerves were stretched tighter than rubber bands.
Today was his doctor’s appointment. Hopefully he’d get the damn soft cast off his wrist, they’d fit him with crutches, and he could at least get himself back and forth to the bathroom. She was torn between saving her sanity and living up to her bargain.
And you aren’t ready to let go of Jake Russell yet, kiddo.
Now where had that come from? Her inner self? If so, her inner self needed a stern talking to. She also needed to figure out how to stop these stupid dreams.
Sighing, she pulled the covers over her head and set her inner alarm clock for four hours. Jake’s helper would be here early today to get him ready for the doctor, and she had things to do.
* * * *
Jake came awake slowly, blinking his eyes at the sunlight slanting into the room. He had told Erin to leave the blinds open so he could enjoy the light. At the moment, getting out of bed to adjust them himself wasn’t an option. He lay back on the pillows, drew in a long breath, and let it out very slowly.
He knew he was acting like a real shithead to Erin. It wasn’t her fault. Anyone would have asked the same questions she did. It was his sore point. There was a part of his life buried so deep he refused to discuss it with anyone. As far as he was concerned, his life began when he and his mother moved to Granite Falls. Her job and the football team had been his saviors. And Coach Fenelli. The team had been like a brotherhood, and even though he had lost touch with many of them, they were still and always would be his family.
They had quite literally saved his life. Made him who he was today. Gave him the first and only sense of self-worth. That was why football was his life. Without it, he had no idea who he was. Or who he would then become. How could he ever be worthy of Erin or someone like her? If he lost that validation, what would become of him?
He really ought to try reconnecting with some of the guys. Maybe while he was lying here, feeling sorry for himself, he’d at least try to look them up and see where everyone was now. Scott had mentioned something about a Facebook page, but he hadn’t paid a lot of attention. It wasn’t as if he actually had to contact them, but he could satisfy his curiosity about what path everyone had taken.
Maybe, if he presented it to a select few of them, those who would not probe and ask personal questions, he could tap them for Good Shepard. No publicity. That was definitely not in his wheelhouse. But there had to be others who would do it just for the good of the cause. To help people who really, really needed it.
It might even get his attention off Erin.
Ha! Fat chance.
Then he needed to figure out how to get in her good graces, if that was even possible now. He was starting even lower than square one. Okay, he’d see what the doctor had to say today and get an idea of his mobility. Then he’d think about what to do.
* * * *
“Well, I’d say you got good news today.” Erin poured coffee into two mugs and carried them to the kitchen table. “No soft cast. Exchanged the walker for crutches.”
“Yeah, hurray.” Jake lifted his mug in a mock salute and sipped the hot liquid.
He had insisted she go with him to the doctor, and she hadn’t wanted to upset him when she didn’t know what the results of the visit would be. The driver DiMarco had sent to pick them up was very pleasant, joking with Jake as he wrestled him in and out of the car.
She sat down across the table from Jake. “Your wrist has healed nicely. Your leg looked good on the x-rays. I’d count that as positive. And look. You’re sitting at the kitchen table instead of back in your bedroom.” She waited as long as she could for him to answer. “Right?” she prompted.
“Yes. Right.” He looked over at her and—damn!—he actually managed an almost-smile. “Look, I apologize for the other day. You pushed some buttons you didn’t know about and I reacted badly.”
“Yes, you did.” She wasn’t letting him off the hook. She waited to see what else he might say. Then she sighed. “Okay, okay. It’s your business and I’m not going to get into it. You’ve had a pretty rough morning, been hauled around and jostled a lot. How about a little nap before lunch?”
“Nap?”
She grinned. “I changed your sheets while Nurse Charlie had you in the shower this morning and sprayed freshener in your bedroom.”
He spewed his coffee. “Nurse Charlie?”
She giggled. “My little name for him.” God, it felt so good to have that angry tension gone.
“You didn’t have to change my sheets, you know. Delia comes again tomorrow. She could have done it when she does the laundry.”
“Darn.” She snapped her fingers. “And I was so looking forward to playing with your shorts.”
He stared at her, and then his mouth curved in a wide grin. She suddenly realized what she’d said and wanted to slide under the table. Instead she took both their coffee cups, carried them to the sink, rinsed them, and stuck them in the dishwasher.
“Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”
Again that wicked grin. “Are you coming with me?”
Right. Think before you speak, idiot.
“Not exactly. Here’s a chance to try out those new crutches.” She frowned. Could he handle them? “You feel good about using them after you
practiced at the doctor’s office?”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
Erin got them from where she’d leaned them against the wall, helped him up from his chair as best she could, and guided him until he had them properly under his arms. It was impossible to do anything without touching him, and the mere contact with his body, even through the soft material of his shirt, sent fingers of flame whisking through her bloodstream. She bit down on her bottom lip in an effort to control her errant, unwanted feeling of sexual need that always seemed to consume her whenever they made contact.
Although their progress down the hallway was halting, it was a major improvement over the walker. She was sure his ability as an athlete and his training had a lot to do with his adaptability to this. Even so, they were both a little breathless by the time they reached his room. He balanced himself on the crutches while she folded back the covers and rearranged the multitude of pillows, waited while he lowered himself to the bed, and leaned the crutches against the nightstand. He managed to bend down and pull off his dock shoe he wore on the undamaged foot, but he needed Erin to help him swing both legs up on the bed again.
She’d thought this would be easier now that he could use both hands, but he couldn’t seem to hitch himself into the center of the mattress. She did the thing with the pillows for his cast, but today she felt extra clumsy, a situation emphasized by the fact she kept bumping her breasts on the cast as she bent over him. What was wrong with her?
She did her best to avoid touching him anywhere but his leg, but no luck there either. As she tried to straighten up, her arm brushed against his crotch. She jerked back as if she’d touched a lit flame. Jake’s fingers closed over her elbow, and he tugged her toward him.
“Don’t,” he said when she tried to pull away. “Look at me.”
She let her gaze travel up the length of him until it locked with his. His face was flushed with desire, the late day scruff so temptingly delicious she wanted to rub herself on it like a sleepy cat. His eyes were now the dark color of espresso, and the hunger in them was so evident he might as well have worn a blinking neon sign. He stroked his fingers lightly along her arm, the barest of touches but enough to ignite even more flames. He caressed her gently, slowly, as if he expected her to bolt.
