Ask For It

by Selena Blake

  “I think you missed your calling,” Trevor said, from directly behind her. From the corner of her eye she saw his large frame filling a doorway.

  Darn. She hadn’t thought to check inside the building. So much for beating him at his own game.

  She let go of the gun and it dropped to the end of the strap around her neck. A shiver raced up her spine as she held her hands up and turned around.

  “You got me,” she whispered.

  He looked very pleased with himself. Behind the goggles, his blue eyes simmered with heat.

  “The question is, what am I going to do with you?”

  She pursed her lips and then gave her eyelashes a flutter for good measure. “That is the question.”

  “I suppose I could take you captive.”

  Another shiver raced over her shoulders. She was starting to think she should have worn more than a light-weight jacket and a long sleeved T-shirt. The vest, goggles, and helmet did little to keep her warm on a cool November day.

  “And then what?”

  His handsome mouth hitched up on one side and her heart fluttered. What would it be like to see that smile every day? Over breakfast one day and lunch the next? In the middle of the night or on holidays? Twenty years from now when his hair had turned a salt and pepper gray?

  Trevor slipped his strap over his head and slowly lowered his gun to the ground. His gaze never left hers. “Then I'd have my way with you.” He jerked off the goggles and tossed them over his shoulder. The helmet followed.

  A white hot spark flamed to life inside her and she swayed toward him. Toward the enemy.

  “You don't play fair,” she whispered. Not that she minded in the least.

  As far as she was concerned paint-ball created an adrenaline rush that was like no other aphrodisiac she knew of.

  So slowly she thought she might get wrinkles first, he reached over and gently removed her goggles and helmet. Next went her gun. Oh he was good at this tension thing. Her insides were knotted, coiled, and ready all at the same time. Her breathing was deep and slow. Her breasts heavy and aching for his touch.

  “I never claimed to.”

  To what? Oh. Play fair.

  He cocked his head to the left and swept his gaze over her in a long, thorough perusal.

  When at last his gaze locked on her lips she was ready to come out of her skin. Never had she felt so naked before a man and certainly not when she was fully dressed. It was as if he could see every flaw, every sin, every desire.

  “Turn around and show me what I've captured.”

  She turned slowly to the right, the cheekiness of the game leaving her. This was seduction at its finest. She was sure of it. How he made her feel both beautiful and needy at the same time, well, he should teach a course. Women would be lined up around the block to sign-up their significant other.

  “Beautiful.”

  Leaves crunching beneath her feet, she finished the pirouette. She wasn't ready to let him have his way quite yet. And anything she could do to prolong the lusty look in his eyes was definitely a good thing. The siren inside her wanted to string this encounter along as far as it could go. Plus it’d be fun to see just how far she could push her captor.

  “Now what?”

  “Strip.”

  “What?” Her voice rose an octave and she glanced behind her.

  “Start with the vest.”

  “If you think that I’m going—”

  He cut her off with a hard kiss as he jerked her into his arms. Oh my. His hands cupped her ass and his tongue tangled with hers, not taking no for an answer. Taking a step back, he lifted her into his arms and stepped inside the building. Arms and legs wrapped around him, she held on tight, soaking in his energy. Lips fused with his, she hardly noticed him maneuvering them until her back hit the wall and the door slammed shut behind them.

  He fumbled with something behind her and she heard a lock slip into place. “I really should tie you up,” he said between kisses to her shoulders and neck. “Tease you. Torture you a little.”

  “What’s stopping you?” she asked. She hadn’t meant for it to sound like a challenge. But she welcomed a little teasing from this man. In the end, he always pleased her.

  “I don’t have the patience or time right now.” He rotated his hips, driving his erection against her belly.

  He didn’t waste another second. In a flurry of movement, he had her jeans unbuttoned and shoved to her ankles. Before she could kick off her hiking boots and step out of the denim trap around her ankles he scooped her up. Spinning, he put her down next to an old work bench.

  “Turn around.”

  She liked it when he sounded all growly. Needy. His hands moved to the button of his jeans and a second later he’d shoved them below his hips. He already had a condom out and tore the wrapper with his teeth.

  “Don’t make me tell you again, captive.”

  Giggling softly, she did his bidding. The earthiness of the shelter filled her nose. She’d never be able to go camping again without thinking of this. Of Trevor.

  Paint-ball either, for that matter.

  He pushed her shoulders down and she braced her hands against the table. She didn’t have much time to contemplate how grimy the surface was before his hands skimmed over her hips. She rocked back, ever eager for his touch.

  “Easy, tiger.”

  A thick finger parted her lower lips, dipping inside quickly, easily, before she felt the blunt head of his cock.

  This was so naughty. A delicious shiver raced down her spine and she pressed back against him. He met her thrust and slid into her until she couldn’t take any more.

  His groan said it all. It was as if he was made for her and it didn’t take him more than a minute to build a blinding orgasm inside her.

  “Ready to come, my lovely captive?” he whispered.

  “Very ready,” she replied, almost panting with need.

  He reached around and circled her clit with the tip of his finger. That and a well-timed thrust was all it took to send her into the heavens. He came with a low grunty-growl, his arms tightening around her.

  She bit her lip to keep from crying out as wave after wave of delicious pleasure swept through her. Her knees went all wiggly and she locked her elbows to stay upright.

  “Holy hell, woman. What are you doing to me,” he said sometime later from where he’d dropped his forehead against her shoulder.

  “No idea, captor. But you’re doing it to me too.” She wanted him to do it to her forever.

  Cindy was never going to let her live this down, JJ mourned on the way back to her loft. First, she’d “walked in there and had sex with the guy.” And if her indiscretions in New York hadn’t been enough, she’d had sex (with the same guy, at least) in a semipublic place. With her brothers scouring the woods right outside! And his brothers too.

  A shiver of embarrassment heated her skin. Did they know what the two of them had been doing in that shed? Marcus and Greg sat in the backseat of Trevor’s rented SUV, chatting amongst themselves. Congratulating each other on their win. Her brother was a traitor, she thought with a grin. And Trevor was going to be touting his win for weeks.

  The rascal didn’t play fair and she’d be sure she pointed that out every time he told everyone about stealing her flag. He’d stolen it all right, just as soon as he’d given her an orgasm that made her toes curl just thinking about it.

  Her cheeks heated again as she thought about what her girlfriends would say. Baby would drill her for details and Gretchen would be scandalized. JJ smiled at the thought. That orgasm had been worth it. She could swear she still felt residual tingles.

  “You okay?”

  How did she answer that question without giving away too much?

  “Doing great. Minus the fact that I look like a Jackson Pollock painting.”

  Trevor laughed, loud and long. The more she heard that sound the more she wanted to hear it. She needed to devise a plan to keep him in her life on a permanent basis.<
br />
  “And wondering if I’m going to ever get the paint out of my hair,” she added, just so he’d laugh again.

  “Hey, it’s not my fault you ran into enemy fire.”

  It was entirely his fault. After fun-and-frisky-paint-ball-shed-sex she’d been ready to get home and have him all to herself. It didn’t help that he’d promised to give her a foot rub that would make her melt.

  “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Wyatt.” She kept her tone light and teasing. “I still expect my foot massage.”

  “I wouldn’t renege on a deal.”

  “You two need to get a room,” Greg said from the backseat.

  She glanced back and found his blue eyes alight with laughter. “We intend to. Just as soon as we drop you two goobers somewhere.”

  That wiped the smirk right off his face.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  December

  New York City

  The following day, Trevor returned to New York. He’d already dropped his mom off at her house and his brother’s had taken a cab from the airport. He was half a block from his loft when he saw a flock of paparazzi camped out on his doorstep. What the hell did those vultures want now?

  He should have known that the bliss he’d felt these last few weeks wouldn’t hold. Those bastards wouldn’t stop until they’d picked him clean of every shred of privacy he possessed. He knew all too well how their questions and stories could lead a deranged woman to think she really knew him. Understood him.

  His chest tightened and he struggled to breathe.

  “Do you want me to circle around back, sir?” his driver asked.

  “No.”

  Tipping his head back, he thought of Julia’s smile. The way her eyes crinkled when she was happy and the adorable creases between her brows when she was frustrated. She thought he was brave…

  He wanted to be. For her. And for himself. To prove to himself that anxiety didn’t have to win and that he was normal again. Healed. Whole.

  Julia made him feel whole.

  No, he was done going through the service entrance because he didn’t want to face the press. Hell, he might never be ready, but that didn’t mean he had to run from them. His business was his business.

  As soon as the car rolled to a stop, bursts of light filled the Town car’s interior. Several deep breaths later, the driver popped the trunk and retrieved Trevor’s luggage.

  He gave himself a quick mental pep talk, just like he had before a game. Pumping himself up, boosting his ego skyward, and telling himself he could do anything he set his mind to. Even find his bliss again.

  Unfortunately, he was starting to wonder if some of his happiness was tied to Julia. He was just going to have to camp out on her doorstep until she agreed to spend eternity in his bed.

  The thought brought an instant, sweeping calm and a smile to his lips.

  Questions bombed him as he stepped out of the car and the flashing bulbs put him in the spotlight.

  “Trevor, what’s this about you looking at property in Atlanta?”

  “Are you leaving New York?”

  “Why the move?”

  And just like that, he went from calm to furious. This was what he’d been afraid of for the last three months. These bozos turning his relationship with Julia into a circus. Putting her in the crosshairs of some crazy person.

  Though his housekeeper reported that the doorman hadn’t found any more letters in the last week, he couldn’t help but worry that history was about to repeat itself. Only this time, the woman he loved was at risk.

  “No comment,” he said, reaching for his suitcase.

  Without another word he pushed his way through and escaped up to his loft.

  After grabbing a beer from the fridge he settled onto the low slung couch and pulled out his cell phone. He’d learned to be proactive about his security which meant protecting his privacy with an iron fist.

  Unless they learned Julia’s identity he didn’t want to give her cause for concern. She was too busy to add another level of stress to her life. If he wasn’t such a greedy bastard, he’d step away from her all together until the dust settled.

  Eventually she’d be done with her edits, her loft would be finished, and hopefully this latest ‘fan’ would disappear back into the woodwork. But as he mulled over the idea he knew it wouldn’t work. He needed her too much. Simple as that.

  Mentally he went through everyone who knew he’d been in Atlanta and looking for a house. It was a short list. His agent didn’t even know.

  JJ, her family and his family had known he was in Atlanta of course. But not the shopping part. He’d done that before he’d picked up his mom on the way out of town. While his brothers had taken her Christmas shopping, Trevor had arranged to meet with the real estate agent. He’d been careful not to utter a word about his plans. There was no use rocking the boat before anything was finalized.

  That left his real estate agent, obviously. And…the real estate agent’s assistant.

  After draining half the bottle he punched a button to dial the real estate agent. He hated playing the part of the rich asshole but sometimes it was called for.

  “Paul Witticker,” the agent said after two rings.

  “Paul. Trevor Wyatt here.”

  “Mr. Wyatt, I didn’t recognize your number.”

  Trevor hated the way the man had sucked up, but he came highly recommended. It annoyed Trevor that he was going to have to change his phone number again.

  “We have a problem.”

  “What’s that? I’ll do anything I can to help,” Witticker said quickly. Too quickly.

  “When I arrived back in New York there was a posse of reporters waiting on my doorstep wanting to know why I’m looking at property in Atlanta.”

  “Oh dear.”

  That was it? Who said ‘oh dear’ these days?

  “You don’t happen to know who could have leaked that information, do you?”

  “No sir. It didn’t come from this office, I assure you.”

  Trevor’s mood darkened. He really didn’t like being lied to.

  “Mr. Witticker, only two people knew I was in Atlanta looking at property. So I’m reasonably sure the leak came from your office. Perhaps your young assistant was over eager.”

  “I-uhh—Anthony knows our client’s privacy is of utmost importance.”

  Trevor blew out a sigh. He should have known just by looking at the guy what a pompous ass he was. The bow tie should have been the first clue. His language the second. Utmost? Who said shit like that?

  He decided to try a different tactic. “Look, I get it. A famous football player comes into town looking to buy a house. That’s news. I bet Anthony is even a fan. He probably told a buddy who told a buddy who happened to be a reporter.”

  His phone beeped, alerting him to an incoming call on the other line. He ignored it.

  “I-yes, I’m sure that’s what happened.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time,” Trevor replied.

  “I’m so glad you understand Mr. Wyatt. He meant no harm I’m sure of it.”

  “Yeah, well, either way, you’re fired. I need people I can count on to be discreet. It was nice meeting you Mr. Witticker.” Trevor hung up and hit the voice mail button.

  His agent’s name was at the top of the list. He blew out a sigh, really not wanting to hear what Brady had to say right now. Even without listening to the message he had a pretty good idea what his agent would say.

  Deciding to ignore the world for a while he ordered a pizza and stretched out to read Julia’s book again. Despite the initial seizing of his heart when she’d mentioned the premise of her book, she was a brilliant writer. Her pacing was flawless and the attention to detail, it was like she’d lived the story herself.

  Other than the car accident there were no similarities between him and the hero of the book. Where the hero had been a quarterback, married and very much in love, well, Trevor wasn’t a quarterback or married…yet. And the hero strug
gled through the physical therapy to rejoin the sport he loved.

  Trevor had thrown in the towel. Sighing, he stared out at the city. Fuck, if he didn’t feel like a quitter. But quitting had really been his best option. His only option. It wasn’t like he’d ever be as fast as he’d been. It was a God damn miracle he didn’t walk with a limp. And he set off every metal detector he walked through, thanks to all the pins in his leg. His knee and shoulder still ached when it rained.

  No, it was better to go out on top and leave a legacy.

  He was halfway through the book when his phone rang again. Deciding he couldn’t avoid Brady forever, he answered the call.

  “What’s this about you moving to Atlanta?”

  Yep. He’d totally called it. Damn, he hated being right sometimes.

  “I’m not moving to Atlanta. I’m buying a house there.”

  “This is about her, then. The journalist?”

  “Of course.”

  “Does she know what you’re planning?”

  “Not yet. Soon.”

  “Don’t you think you should see if she even wants you down there before you go dropping change in an unstable real estate market?”

  Like he had anything else to do with all his money. And he was sure that Julia wouldn’t mind if he had a place closer to her. Absolutely sure. That week he’d spent with her before she’d moved told him as much.

  “Look, I fired the real estate agent I was using. Someone from his office opened their mouth. Find me someone else. A straight shooter who can keep his mouth shut. I want to move on this before the holidays.”

  “Christ that’s soon.”

  Not soon enough as far as Trevor was concerned. Other than family, there was really no reason to be in New York all the time. And he was starting to like the southern climate. Whereas they were predicting snow for the city this weekend, Julia had left for her morning jog wearing a t-shirt.

  “Find me somebody.”