Kickoff

by Jami Davenport

  “Not a problem. What I have in mind doesn’t require talking.”

  “No shit?” He cleared his throat. His gaze dropped to her breasts, all round, soft, and begging for his hands, his lips, his mouth.

  “If you don’t want me to help you, we can find someone else.”

  He choked. “You’re the only one I want.”

  “You’re the only one I want.”

  “Are you sure?” His shallow words of resistance held no meaning. Her proposal more than intrigued him, it answered his prayers.

  “If either of us becomes uncomfortable with the situation, we can bail out at any time.”

  She leaned closer, fingering the collar of his T-shirt, sliding her hands down his chest.

  “I want you to fuck me.”

  “Fuck you?” His voice came out as a squeak. He’d never heard her use the F-word in all the years he’d known her, but she’d been exposed to a lot of trash-talking, foul-mouthed professional athletes lately.

  “Yes. Fuck me, Derek. Take me any way you want with no regrets in the morning.” She placed a hand on his crotch and stroked him through his jeans. “You’re hard for me.”

  “Well, hell yeah. Look at how you’re dressed.” Not that it mattered. If she’d been wearing a space suit, he’d be hard for her.

  She pulled down his zipper and opened his fly. His lungs forgot how to function. His brain screamed orders to abandon ship and cease all mental activity. His dick prepared for a sport that didn’t require or want any input from his brain.

  “Make me scream. Make me wet. Make me melt.”

  “Awww, fuck it. I’m probably going to burn in hell for this.”

  “We both are.” A split second of hesitation shone in her eyes, but he was too far gone to analyze the situation. He moved closer, and she leaned into him. He snaked his hand around her neck and pulled her closer. She splayed her hand on his chest, then ran her fingernails down his breastbone through his T-shirt. Her other hand rubbed his crotch.

  “I need you,” he rasped.

  “I know.”

  “We don’t have a future. I’m screwed up when it comes to relationships. You know that. I don’t have a piece of me left to give. At least, not now.”

  His mother had seen to that. Yeah, she’d done a number on him, made him wary of getting attached, because in his book, love hurt and people you loved the most deserted you.

  “The only piece I’m asking for is a physical piece.”

  “Are you sure you can do that?” He couldn’t believe he was still arguing with her.

  “Of course I can. You’re the one who seems to have a problem with it.”

  Him? He was the king of relationships without emotional involvement. He considered her words and attempted one more feeble protest. “I’m no good for you. We both know that.”

  “I know.”

  Well, hell, she didn’t have to agree so readily. “Rae, I don’t want to hurt you again.”

  “I’m not that naive college girl.”

  His gut clenched as he trod on forbidden territory, picturing her with other men. God, he hated that visual. He’d make her forget those other men until they weren’t even a blip on her sexual horizon.

  With a devilish smile, she rubbed his cock harder, her fingers slipping lower to caress his balls through his jeans. He grasped for some slice of sanity, but his ability to reason slid into the gutter and drowned.

  “Let’s get to business.” She propped one spiked heel on his crotch and rubbed his erection with it. Her skirt rode up and exposed creamy white skin on her upper thighs. His head spun. His body screamed for release louder than a sold-out crowd at the Super Bowl. He couldn’t ignore it any longer. Her knee was just inches from his chin.

  “Oh, fuck.”

  “That’s the idea.” If she intended to shock him, Rachel succeeded. The little vixen had grown up. Perhaps to her this was nothing but a physical affair. He should feel reassured, but somehow, he didn’t.

  “Your turn, buster. Show me the goods.” She swung her foot off his lap and stood, hands on hips, her short little skirt riding up her fine ass.

  Derek didn’t have to be asked twice. He shot to his feet, whipped off his T-shirt, and threw it across the room. “You’re next.” He watched expectantly, getting into this little game. Instead of taking off her suit, she tugged on his pants.

  “Take them off.”

  He just about fell on his face trying to get the damn things down. Soon they joined his T-shirt in a pile in the corner. He forgot about the football game tomorrow. In fact, he’d be damned if he could remember who they were playing.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  What was she doing?

  She must be her father’s daughter, because she was jeopardizing everything she’d worked so hard for. This was so wrong, yet it felt so right.

  A coach and a player. Not good. Not good at all.

  Only tonight they were just a man and a woman.

  Just tonight. She only needed tonight. Tomorrow, she’d go back to hard-assed Rachel, the female football coach struggling to make it in a man’s world.

  Grateful for a couple of nerve builders in the form of glasses of wine, Rachel relished the power she had over this man. It happened so seldom with men in her life. She ran her hands over his broad shoulders and corded biceps, savoring the feel of his hard muscles. She fingered his nipples, and he moaned. His body shook with repressed need. He wouldn’t need to repress it for long.

  “You have too many clothes on.” Derek’s dark gaze fixated on her suit.

  “Then do something about it.”

  “Who are you, and what did you do with Rachel?”

  “I told you. I’ve changed. I grew up.”

  “Honey, I’m growing by the second.” He grinned, looking younger, more vulnerable. Guilt attempted to rear its ugly head, but she ignored it. Tonight, Derek belonged to her. She’d forget her ambitions and obligations to family and live in the moment. Tomorrow would come soon enough.

  Watching his face, Rachel reached behind her back and unzipped her skirt, which was so tight it clung to her ass and hips. She ignored it. Next she shrugged out of her jacket and removed her blouse, exposing a lacy pink bra. She reached behind and unhooked her bra and shrugged it off her shoulders. It fell to the floor.

  Derek’s eyes dilated. He licked his lips. “I think they’ve gotten bigger,” he croaked.

  Pulling the clip out of her hair, she shook it loose. It fell over her shoulders and tickled her nipples. She put her hands under her breasts and pushed them together. He groaned a deep, tortured groan that resonated through his almost-naked body. Never taking her eyes off his face, Rachel toyed with her nipples, pinching and plucking them, like she’d often done in the privacy of her bedroom late at night. Only she wasn’t in the privacy of her bedroom now. She was performing for a rapt audience of one.

  “Damn.” His voice was low, gravelly, sexy. It sent little pinpricks of sensations through her body.

  A thin layer of sweat beaded on his brow.

  Emboldened, Rachel tugged the tight little skirt over her hips and down her thighs, turning so Derek got a good view of her bare ass in the little piece of lace doubling as panties.

  “Holy shit. Do you always wear underwear like that?”

  Coming up behind her, Derek wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. His erection pressed against her butt. His mouth nipped and sucked and licked its way up her shoulders to her neck and her face. He filled his hands with her breasts as he kissed his way down her neck, shoulder blades, the small of her back. Kneeling, the devil nipped at her ass cheeks and coaxed her G-string down her long legs. Rachel tried to turn around, but he held her.

  “Don’t move.”

  “But—”

  “Mmmm. Yeah, you do have a nice butt.” He ran his large, strong hands up her ankles, knees, thighs, stopping short of paradise. “You always were hot for me, baby, weren’t you?”

  She nodded. Speech wasn�
��t an option.

  “Spread your legs. Good girl. Now bend over.”

  Frowning, she bent down and moved her legs apart. She put her hands on the couch for balance. Was he going to take her from behind? Right now? They hadn’t even kissed yet.

  “Lower.”

  She bent as low as she could, resting her head on the couch. The action exposed her pussy to him, moist and tingling with need. His strong fingers spread her folds apart; his mouth nibbled on her upper thighs. She shivered, holding her breath when his long index finger slid inside her.

  “Damn, you’re wet, Rae.” He took it easy. His finger was gentle as he pushed deeper into her tight little hole.

  It’d been so long, she’d probably be considered a born-again virgin. Of course, he didn’t know that, and he wouldn’t. Better he thought she got around and their liaison was nothing special, nothing but filling a physical need.

  He took his time until he’d buried his finger inside her to his knuckle. She pushed back against his hand, changing the angle, helping him go deeper. Her clit throbbed, aching for his touch. He didn’t neglect it. His thumb found the little nub. He thrust his finger in and out, faster and faster, all the while teasing her clit. The walls of her pussy clenched around his finger. She buried her head in the couch cushion and bit her knuckles as the world swirled around her.

  “Dare. I— Oh my. Oh my. I—” She shuddered, pressed her head into the cushion, and gripped it with her fingers. The world started to drop away underneath her. She poised on the edge.

  He groaned. She was just about ready to come when he stopped. She cried out in protest and tried to stand. He held her down with a firm hand on her back.

  “Getting a little greedy, aren’t you?” Derek teased.

  “I’m very greedy.”

  “Then this is for you, baby.” His fingers walked down her spine, counting every vertebra.

  “How do you know what I like?”

  “I know.” His mouth replaced his finger. He pushed his tongue inside her and thrust it in and out. A few seconds later, she exploded into oblivion, floated around the cosmos for a while, and then was reborn.

  He didn’t give her much recovery time. Instead, he flipped her onto her back on the couch and tore off his boxers. Panting, she stared at his large cock and tried to come back to earth so she could fly again.

  “Rae, this ain’t gonna be pretty. I don’t have much control left.”

  Rachel gazed at him. His dark eyes blazed with undisguised lust. His body vibrated with pent-up frustration. His cock jerked in anticipation. She nodded. It was all the encouragement he needed.

  “Oh, crap. Damn, I need a condom.” He glanced around frantically.

  “Don’t bother. I’m on the pill, assuming you’re clean.”

  “Honey, I’m so clean I squeak.” He threw his head heavenward. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

  “So, Dare, what are you waiting for?”

  He grasped her ankles and pulled them over her head, leaving her open and exposed. She felt the cool air on her swollen pussy. Then the warm tip of his cock touched her soaked entrance. The cords of his neck stood out from the strain of controlling himself as he slowly pushed inside. He gritted his teeth.

  “You are so fucking tight, Rae. Just like I remember.” Sweat dampened his chest and mingled with hers. He withdrew, held himself for a moment, then sank into her again, a little deeper each time. Rachel tightened her muscles around him. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he groaned.

  “Give it to me, big boy,” she begged.

  “Oh, yeah. You got it, baby.” He released her ankles, and she wrapped them around his waist. Despite her wetness, she was so tight he had to go slow. Inch by heavenly inch, he filled her.

  Her muscles stretched around him. She felt a little discomfort, but it faded quickly. After a few more tries, he penetrated her completely. Buried balls-deep inside her, he pulled almost completely out, then paused. She shuddered, used her legs to pull him closer. He thrust deep inside her in one easy, slow stroke. He repeated the movement. Slow retreat. Pause. Hard, fast, deep stroke. Over and over again.

  She tossed her head back and forth, driven crazy by his slow conquest. She needed more. Much more.

  As he supported his weight on his elbows, his face filled her entire line of vision. His mouth covered hers. His tongue slipped inside. She kissed him back. Their tongues mated as wildly as their bodies, long and deep, in and out, building in intensity. She moaned. Her fingernails dug into his back. Her tongue tangoed with his. His slow, steady strokes picked up speed until his balls slapped against her pussy. She dug her heels into his back and angled her hips in an attempt to pull him deeper.

  Their wet bodies slid over each other. Rachel ran her hands down his sides, then grabbed his fine ass. Adjusting her pelvis, she matched his wild rhythm. Derek’s control disintegrated. He plunged into her over and over again with the velocity of a race car on the last lap of the Indy 500. The finish line loomed on the horizon.

  Rachel teetered near the edge but didn’t want to go alone. She urged him on, locked her ankles together, and hugged his body with her legs. Derek quivered and groaned. Rachel shattered into a million erotic pieces and cried out his name. He shot his load deep inside her, his cock jerking from the effort. His warmth filled her, overtook her, engulfed her.

  They came together, climbing higher and higher, gravity not an issue, until their bodies united. Their minds melded. A bond that transcended the physical connected them. Eventually, they floated on a soft cloud back to reality.

  She held tightly to him, wrapped in his warmth, kissing his neck and mouth, and wondered how the hell she’d be able to keep her emotions out of this.

  Chapter 12—In the Zone

  Rachel’s eyes slammed open and she stared at the ceiling of the bedroom. Her hot night with Derek had to be a dream, right? She wouldn’t have done such an unprofessional act and put her career at risk while compromising her ethics.

  Every muscle in her body froze when she glanced to her side and saw Derek sound asleep next to her.

  No. No. No.

  She couldn’t have done this. This was not her. She walked the straight and narrow. She was a good girl who followed the rules.

  The team had a game today. If this helped his game, it’d be worth it. Not only would it cement his place on the team, but it’d possibly strengthen hers.

  She glanced at the clock and shot up in bed. Reaching over, she shook Derek awake.

  “Dare, get up. We’re going to be late.”

  He sat up slowly, blinked several times at her, still groggy from sleep. “Huh?”

  “We have a game today. We have to get to the stadium.”

  “Oh, fuck.” He hopped to his feet, running around the room gathering his tux. “I can’t wear this. Everyone will know I slept in it. There’ll be no end of speculation.”

  Rachel squeezed her eyes shut. She was in a full-blown panic now. Tyler and Cass knew he’d taken her home. They couldn’t suspect anything.

  “I might have something in my truck.” He ran outside in his underwear and returned triumphant with a Steelheads duffel bag. “Mission accomplished.”

  Rachel blew out a relieved breath. She needed a quick shower, but there were things left unsaid between them.

  “Dare, I—”

  He shook his head. “Not now. There’s not time. We’ll talk later.” With those last words, he was gone, leaving her with a mountain of questions and regret.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Derek couldn’t worry about what had happened last night. He had a game to concentrate on. The time for reflecting on what they’d done would have to come later. Right now, it was game on.

  Derek did a double take when he walked into the locker room. Frowning, he approached Dante, who was still dressed in his street clothes, crutches propped next to the bench beside him. “What the fuck happened to you?” Derek shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over a hook in his locker.

  �
�I reinjured my knee in Friday practice.”

  “I thought that was nothing.” Derek peeled his T-shirt off and stepped out of his jeans.

  “It turns out it was something. I might be out for the season.”

  “Oh, man.” He shrugged into his shoulder pads.

  “Don’t sweat it, kid. It might be your big break. HughJack won’t take a chance on you if I’m healthy.”

  “I don’t want a big break at someone else’s expense, especially yours. I want to earn it myself.”

  “You’ve earned it, Ramsey. You’ve worked your ass off these past few weeks.” Dante paused as HughJack approached.

  He nodded to the injured player, then turned to Derek. “You’re starting this afternoon, got it?”

  Derek stared at his coach in disbelief. “Uh, yes, sir. I got it.”

  Dante grinned as HughJack moved away. “You’ll do fine. Good luck, man.”

  Derek tried not to think as he went through the motions putting on the rest of his pads, uniform, and cleats. He listened to all the pregame stuff but didn’t hear a thing. Butterflies flitted around in his stomach, but he forced an indifferent expression on his face.

  Never show weakness, especially not with this pack of coyotes.

  Already the offensive linemen were eyeing him, assessing whether he’d be up to the task of being a starting wide receiver.

  Grabbing his helmet, he sprinted onto the field with the rest of his teammates to a smattering of applause.

  Losing season after losing season combined with a zero and four start didn’t breed large, enthusiastic crowds.

  The LA Sharks boasted a three-win, one-loss season. The oddsmakers picked them as a two- touchdown favorite against the Steelheads; not exactly a vote of confidence. Derek didn’t care. Today, things changed.

  His gaze sought out Rachel standing on the sidelines with Carter. Derek gave her a curt nod, and she returned it. Strictly professional, nothing to arouse suspicions. He turned back to his job, all business. His teammates and coaches were none the wiser, but he carried that image of Rachel last night around in his mind, unable to shake it completely.