Guarding the Quarterback (Champions of the Heart #1)

by Liz Matis

  “We should dance.”

  “No, we should not,” I said, but Dean led me to the dance floor. “No, seriously.” Dean twirled my body. “You do know that I’m armed, right?”

  “Yeah, and dangerous,” he said, pulling me into his arms.

  My breath hitched, becoming shallow, as if I were dancing the salsa instead of swaying to the slow beat of some song I didn’t recognize. The oxygen had been sucked out of the room, I was sure of it.

  “You smell like candy apples.”

  And he smelled like spice and wickedness, while I’d never owned a bottle of perfume. “It’s my conditioner.”

  “You feel good in my arms. Like you belong here.”

  “You can tone down the act.”

  “What if I told you it wasn’t an act?”

  By the bulge pressing against me, he didn’t have to tell me, but maybe he should. Maybe I needed to hear it was all an act, because the fact that Dean had a hard-on for me was like a naughty fairy tale come true.

  Another couple accidently bumped against us, jolting me out a lust-filled fog. Crap, I had forgotten why I was here. I looked to the left and then right for any possible threats. Other than a few curious stares, there was nothing out of place. I couldn’t see behind him though, and that was a problem. With the other guards probably more interested in the hot women gyrating on the dance floor, I needed to stay hyper-vigilant.

  I tried to maneuver my dance partner so I could get a better angle.

  “Are you trying to lead?” The look on Dean’s face was a mixture of shock and amusement.

  “No, well, a little. I can’t see behind you.”

  Dean turned, his fingers threading through my hair to place his hand at the back of my head, and then he dipped me. “There, is that better?”

  Oh, no, it was not better. Not. At. All. For one, it was hard to see upside down, and two, I’d rather be looking into his smoky brown eyes, and three, wetness slicked between my legs.

  He whipped me back up, his hand drifting to the base of my skull. Our bodies pressed together, and we were no longer dancing. His shocked and amused expression was replaced by the intense fever in his eyes. His mouth was inches away from mine, our breaths mingling, charging the air around us. My heart fluttered as if a thousand bees were suddenly released from a cage inside my chest. Dean unlocked something deep inside me. Something I needed to slam shut before there was nothing left to protect.

  The song ended, and I made an excuse to use the bathroom. I took a deep breath before alerting the team that I was on break.

  “Some fancy moves out there, Reeves.”

  “Fuck off, Carter.” Heat flamed my cheeks, but at least I knew the team had all eyes on Dean.

  Opening the door to the well-appointed bathroom, I was besieged by the smell of hairspray and perfume. I took the opportunity to use the restroom since I never could be sure when I’d get another chance.

  I washed my hands, taking a cursory glance in the mirror. A tall blonde bombshell sidled up next to me.

  “You know you’re gonna get hurt.”

  I arched a brow. “And you are…?” I told myself I was only asking as part of my job, and I was, despite the jealousy blindsiding me. The feeling didn’t prevent me from noting how she’d said I’d get hurt, but failed to mention Dean doing the job.

  “Just a friendly warning,” she replied with a shrug.

  I wasn’t intimidated by her Amazonian height. She had no idea who she was messing with.

  “I’d hate to see you get hurt,” she repeated.

  Hoping to get a rise out of her, I said. “Dean makes it hurt soooo good though, doesn’t he?”

  The mask of indifference transformed to an expression of hatred, worse than I’d seen on any mean girl in high school. Had I exposed Dean’s stalker?

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Suspect number one twirled around and headed for the stalls.

  Hayden Middleton, reality star and wife of the NY Cougars’ quarterback said, “Don’t mind her. You’ll get used to the haters.”

  “Who is she?”

  “She was a cheerleader for my Dad’s team. I forgot her name. She probably blew someone to get in here.”

  “Why isn’t she a cheerleader anymore?”

  Hayden effortlessly swept the reddest of lipsticks across her second most famous body part. “She threatened another cheerleader.”

  “Sounds like a Lifetime movie.”

  “You have no idea. I’m Hayden.”

  “Ree—” Out of habit I almost said Reeves. “Uh, Alexa.”

  “So how long have you and Dean been dating?”

  “Not long.”

  “By the way, I love your dress.”

  Did Hayden Middletown just say she loved my dress? Wait until I told Joffrey. Last week I was knee deep in kid duty, and now the queen of reality TV was admiring my outfit. Should I even be talking to the wife of Dean’s enemy—the wife of my Fantasy Football pick? “Um, thanks.”

  “And I’d kill for your boots.”

  What would the ex-cheerleader sweeping by us and out of the bathroom kill for? Fuck.

  “Thanks. I have to go. Sorry.” I didn’t have time for niceties and hoped Hayden wouldn’t take offense at my abruptness.

  “Blonde at your six.”

  “Well, that narrows it down. They’re all blonde,” said Carter.

  “She’s wearing a shimmering blue dress.”

  “Blue? Do you mean purple?”

  Fuck! “Yes, purple.” I cursed the partial color blindness that plagued me, keeping me from my childhood dream of being a police officer. Four years of straight A’s and a criminal justice degree down the drain over a stupid test. I’d aced the NYPD physical fitness exam, beating most of the men, yet a condition that affected mostly men prevented me from wearing a badge. Now that was fucking irony.

  “Got her. She’s moving away from The King.”

  My coworkers thought the code name I’d given Dean was based on his football team, but to my secret shame it was inspired by his dic pic.

  And now I’d left him alone in a crowded bar. Well, not alone. Ian’s Security had personnel on the inside, but what if the so-not-a-cheerleader was the stalker? I’d dropped the ball. I had some nerve, accusing my male coworkers of endangering assignments.

  As I weaved through the crowd, I was determined to squash any notions inside my head of Dean being anything other than a client, a body to be protected. It was a war of mind over matter.

  “Purple Rain has left the building.” Carter had already given our first suspect a code name.

  Relief engulfed me as I approached the bar. Dean’s charming smile made me wonder who would win the battle between my filthy mind and Dean’s mighty-fine matter.

  Chapter 7

  Dean

  Alexa’s small hand was in mine as we waited for the valet to pull up with the SUV. The same hand that held a gun on me sent a tremor of desire through my body. It was hard to reconcile the two different sides of Miss Alexa Reeves. I could guess which one she preferred, and somehow I had to change her mind. This had stopped being a game to be won or lost.

  The paparazzi got their fill of photos of me with my new fake girlfriend. Only it didn’t feel fake, or rather I didn’t want it to be.

  The valet pulled up, and Alexa swooped in to snatch the keys, leaving me to handle the tip.

  A reporter shouted out, “Too drunk to drive, Walker?”

  Fuck. A headline like that was the last thing I needed. “Not at all.” I pulled out a twenty and handed it to the valet. I turned back to the reporter before sliding in to the passenger seat. “You got something against women driving, buddy?”

  “Good comeback, liar.” Alexa smirked as I shut the door.

  “What can I say? I’m a changed man,” I half joked.

  “Sure you are.” She wasn’t joking at all. Before driving off, she handed over her phone. “Do you know her?”

  The face of a pretty blonde, but just the sa
me as the next pretty blonde, stared back at me. “No. Why?”

  “Are you sure?” She put the directional signal on and moved out into traffic. “Swipe to the next pic.”

  I did and took a closer look. The shot was taken outside the club, but I hadn’t seen her inside. Then again, I’d been too focused on my tiny dancer to give much notice to any of the other women there. “I’m sure. Who took this?”

  “One of the other guards.”

  “Why did they send it to you?”

  She concentrated on the road, but it seemed like she was only trying to avoid answering. With the way she drove, she could talk and fend off an attacker at the same time. “Alexa?”

  She took a deep breath and let it out with a whoosh. “She approached me in the bathroom, warned me that I was going to get hurt.”

  “What the fuck?” My mind reeled at the implications. By pretending to be my girlfriend had Alexa become the stalker’s target? She’d walked out of the bathroom, cool as a cucumber, picking up right where we left off, flirting and driving me crazy with want. “I have no idea who she is.”

  “According to Hayden, she was a cheerleader with the Cougars.”

  “You met Hayden?”

  “Really? That is what you’re taking away from this conversation?”

  I was such a dick, but if I was going to all this trouble to keep the threat a secret from my teammates, then I didn’t want someone like Hayden to use it against the Kings. “No. No. It’s just that… she knows you’re my bodyguard?”

  “Of course not.” The edge in her voice relaxed as she continued, “We bonded over shoes and shit.” She parked the SUV in the assigned spot in the garage and turned off the engine. Still looking ahead, she asked, “Have you dated any of the Kings’ cheerleaders?”

  “It’s against the rules.”

  She turned to look at me. “I’ll ask again. Have you dated any of them?” She put the word dated in air quotes. The light from the dash was still on, illuminating her delicate features.

  “Off the record?”

  “Unless one of them becomes a suspect, then yes, off the record.”

  Crap, I hated how this fun and potentially sex-filled night had turned to absolute shit. “Molly and Bridget. But it was last season.” Why was I acting so defensive about it? And why I was so concerned about the idea of her finding out that I did them together?

  “Last names.”

  “Uh…” While I remembered each woman’s face, I couldn’t say I’d ever asked for last names. What was the point? Odd that I knew Alexa’s last name before I even knew her first.

  “Don’t tax your brain. It’s easy enough to find out,” she said in a clipped professional tone.

  I hated that tone. I liked her snarky and heated. Striding across the street, she was in full bodyguard mode, unlike when she was in my arms earlier. When I dipped her, I’d heard her breath catch in her throat. I almost kissed her before she ran off to the bathroom. She had been a woman in the midst of my seduction. There was no pretend between us. She wanted me. I wanted her. It should be simple, but like a typical woman, she made it complicated.

  We rode the elevator in silence. She stared ahead while I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her, hoping she’d looked my way. I missed the sexual tension sizzling between us but also, the camaraderie we built over the last few days. Thoughts of how I could bring back that Alexa rioted through my brain.

  The elevator doors slid open, and she peeked out, looking both ways before stepping out into the hallway. At the door to the apartment, she pulled out the gun hidden in her bra.

  “Wait here,” she ordered.

  Not this time. I followed Alexa from room to room, ignoring her commands to fall back.

  “I’m not your employee.” If she thought I was going to stand idly by while she placed herself in harm’s way because of me, then she thought wrong. I wanted to be there to push her out of the way or even jump in front of her if it came down to it. Would it even be a bullet? The letter hadn’t elaborated on the means of my demise. A couple of days ago, I thought this was all a joke, but now I wasn’t so sure.

  She hesitated by my bedroom door.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  “No,” she said, her voice tight with annoyance.

  What was that all about? It went beyond being pissed at me for following her. Was she jealous of the cheerleaders? Was she mad that I was acting like this was a joke? But I couldn’t let her know how affected I was at the thought of someone trying to hurt her.

  She drew in a deep breath and let it go like she was trying to blow down the door like the wolf in the Three Little Pigs. Meanwhile, I was the real Big Bad Wolf, licking my chops laying in wait for her to enter my den.

  She opened the door and headed for the bathroom. I loosened the knot of my tie, yanked it off, and tossed it onto the unmade bed. Visions of tying a naked Alexa to the headboard crowded out all other thoughts.

  Coming out of the master bathroom, she relaxed her stance and slid the gun into her bra holster. “Well, I’ll leave you to… whatever.” She looked calm, but her voice was full of apprehension.

  Maybe now that she had done her job and we were safely in my apartment, she would loosen up a little.

  I blocked her path, ready to run my Hail-Mary-pass play. I laid on the charm and smiled that smile that would make a nun leave the convent. “You didn’t check under the bed.”

  “I’m sure there’s nothing there but porn and a blow-up doll.”

  I laughed. “There’s my Alexa.”

  “I’m not yours.”

  “Then you’re a little too good at pretending to be my girlfriend.”

  “It’s my job.”

  “No, you were enjoying yourself tonight. Why can’t we mix business with pleasure? After all, what better way to keep an eye on me than to share my bed?”

  “I’m held to a higher standard than you or my male coworkers.”

  How long was she going to hide behind that logic? “Spare me the feminist bullshit.”

  “It’s not bullshit. You’re a man. You don’t understand.”

  “I understand you’re scared of me.”

  She shook her head. “Am. Not.”

  “Yes, you are.” I took a step closer. “Afraid of what I can do to your body.” My fingers traced the curve of her cheek until I cupped her chin, tilting it so she had to look me in the eyes. “Afraid of the way I make you feel.”

  I saw her want, or maybe it was my desire reflecting back at me. The scent of caramel apples wafted in the air, reminding me of a long ago county fair I went to as a teen. I wanted to lick her. Take a bite out her. Knew once I got past the hard shell I’d taste sweetness and pie.

  I bent my head, ready to meet the pink lips begging for mine. The breath between us heated and charged. I wanted her to come to me. The anticipation of her surrender was torture. I knew the reward would be heavenly relief. A little moan escaped her. The sound of it must have broken the trance she was under. She blinked and the hungry look was gone. I’d waited too long. Fuck.

  “Wow, you are good.” She placed a hand on my chest in a stopping motion. “In another life I might have fallen for it, but my job is a good enough reason for why I shouldn’t cross that line.”

  With another woman I would’ve shrugged off the rejection, but beneath her hand my heart pounded for her, my blood racing to my groin. She’d made a mistake. Now she was more than a challenge—she’d made herself forbidden fruit. I told myself that was all this was.

  A lie, but it was my lie to live.

  “But I have big reason why you should.” I hauled her up against my unmistakable hardness. The utter softness of her, melded to my body. To the world she wore an armor of toughness and indifference, but in my arms it all fell away.

  Alexa’s wicked smile signaled my victory. Then she whipped out her gun and pressed it against my cheek. “And I have a bigger reason why we shouldn’t.”

  The cold steel against my skin was a relief comp
ared to the heat she created inside me. “That is so fucking hot.”

  “You’re a freak.” Alexa pushed off my chest and backed off, now pointing the gun at the bulge in pants. “Let’s see how freaky.” Raising the gun, she motioned to my upper body. “Lose the suit jacket.”

  Holy crap! Where had this Alexa been hiding? Even in a dress that reminded me of cotton candy, she looked like a dominatrix ready to teach me a lesson. Did I want to be a bad or a good student? Bad. I wanted to be very, very bad. I was more than ready to get my freak on.

  “Now.”

  Without hesitation I ripped the jacket off, forgetting the buttons.

  “No,” Alexa said sharply, as the ping of the buttons reverberated off the hardwood floors, one rolling under the dresser. “Do it slow.” Her voice lowered to a sensuous hum. “Real slow.”

  Every article of clothing I wore constricted my body, like I was turning into the Incredible Hulk, and not because I was angry but because I was so fucking turned on. Because I needed to feel the cool air against my skin.

  In an effort to calm my racing heart, I took a deep breath. Once composed, I undid the cufflinks, tossing them to bed next to the tie. Afraid she’d change her mind, I didn’t dare move from my spot. The buttons holes of my shirt suddenly seemed too tiny—or if I was honest, my fingers too clumsy—to complete the task. I could thread a pass through three defenders to my receiver in the end zone, but right now my dexterity failed me. Finally, I was shrugging out of the shirt, taking my time even though I couldn’t wait for my next command.

  “Good. Now the belt.”

  I wasn’t shy, holding her gaze as I unbuckled it, and then whipping it off, snapping the leather, taking gratification in her flinch.

  “Don’t give me any ideas,” she said with a quick recovery.

  The thought of her whipping my own ass with my belt held no appeal, so I put my hands on my hips and awaited her next move.

  “Now the pants.”

  I undid the top button with a flick of my thumb.

  “Unzip. Slow.”

  Like I had a choice. My cock was harder than it had ever been. I would risk injury to my most treasured body part if I didn’t slide down the zipper with great care. My cock wasn’t waiting for the next order, and I eased my ready-to-go erection out of my pants.