“Visitor?” she asked.
“Food.”
Bull paid the man, tipped him, and carried their meal to the table. Agatha had set it with a lovely, lavender cloth and matching lavender print napkins she had lent him for the occasion. He arranged the food then held out her chair.
“Did you do all this?”
“I can’t lie. I didn’t do it myself, but I arranged to have it done. Does that count?”
“Damn right, it does,” she said, tucking into the eggs.
“Blackberry jam,” he said, offering the small jar to her.
“Blackberry? I’ve never had that before. Is it good?”
Heat crept up his neck. Now, he was caught being new to it too. “I haven’t tried it, but I thought it might be different. You know. Instead of strawberry.”
“Oh. Right. I see.” She nodded as she spooned some onto her plate.
Strike one. Trying to impress her and failing miserably. He tasted it and decided it was definitely better than strawberry.
“This is delicious. Good choice,” she said, after sampling her brioche smeared with jam.
Strike that. First attempt to impress—touchdown.
As they ate, he talked about the game in Columbus. She listened, asking intelligent, knowledgeable questions. She expressed sympathy for The Kid.
“Are you going to try to get back at this guy, Horse?”
“Nah. That kind of stuff backfires. You get penalties or even tossed out of the game. Besides, you can get hurt trying to take him out.”
“That makes sense. I’m glad to hear you say that.”
“Why?” He took a forkful of eggs.
“Because I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” Her voice was low.
He stopped eating, his mouth hung open a little, and words failed him. Sly stared at her face, watching it redden around the cheeks in the most becoming way. His heart turned over. Could she care about me?
When they finished, Sam helped him clear the table. He tossed the dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on.
Samantha stood at the picture window facing his backyard. “The leaves are changing. It’s beautiful.”
He joined her, resting his hand lightly on her shoulder. “Yeah. The person who owned this place before me had a huge lawn, but I’m letting it go fallow. I want more woods, less lawn.”
“That’s practical,” she said, inching closer to him.
“Let’s go for a walk.” He slid his fingers down her arm to wrap around hers.
She nodded. They donned light jackets and went outside. Bull burst into song when they hit the woods. With the sun shining, the cloudless sky a clear blue, and the girl of his dreams by his side, happiness bubbled up inside him. He sang “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning” from the musical, Oklahoma!
Samantha stopped to listen. “Oh my God, you have a beautiful voice!”
“I used to sing. Started in the church choir.”
She raised her eyebrows and turned to face him. “Sing?”
“Yep. I sang in high school, too. Played Curly in Oklahoma! In tenth grade, I started a band with a couple of friends.”
“A rock band? Really?”
“Called The Ironmen. ’Cause we were all big guys. Played football together.”
She laughed, placing her hand over her mouth. “I never pictured you as a singer.”
“Where do you think the name Bullhorn came from?”
“I have no idea.”
“I was the only kid in the choir who could sing a solo without a mic.” He grinned.
Sam laughed louder. “So, you got that name in high school?”
“And it carried on to college. I went to Kensington State with a couple of guys from the team. The name followed. Want to hear me project?”
She nodded.
“Cover your ears.”
Bull sang louder and louder until he swore he saw leaves shake. When he stopped, he grasped her wrists and eased her hands down.
“Wow.”
“Something to do with my chest. My big chest.” He snickered. “Wanna see?”
“I’ve already seen it, and yes, I get that.” Her face turned pink.
She noticed me. Checked me out.
They returned to the house.
“What instrument do you play?”
“Guitar and piano.”
“How come I didn’t see them?”
“They’re in the band room. Come on.”
Sly led her to the third floor. He’d had the attic converted to a large, open area with soundproofed walls and floor. The short carpeting was beige. At one end rested several guitars, an upright piano, a full set of drums, and a saxophone. Music stands stood empty, while piles of sheet music lazed on a side table.
“You weren’t kidding.”
“I never kid about important stuff.”
She ran her finger along the sax, making a clean line in the dust. “Haven’t been up here for a while, have you?”
“Football doesn’t leave much time for hobbies. Not during the season anyway.”
“Do you play now?”
“Off season. Trunk Mahoney plays drums. A couple of my friends from high school play too. They washed out in pro ball. They live nearby and do local stuff. Electrician, plumbing, stuff like that. We jam on weekends in April and May.”
“Do you ever play clubs?”
“Sometimes. My being a King’ll get us in the door, maybe. But if we’re no good, we’re done after one night.”
She sidled up to him, resting her palms on his chest. “Can I come hear you play?”
“I’d love it.”
When she looked up at him, Sly seized the opportunity and kissed her. He wrapped his large hands around her hips and drew her to him. He’d never made love in the band room, but there was always a first time.
Samantha softened against him. He stepped up the heat, holding her close and ravaging her mouth with his. His tongue sought hers, stoking his fire. Blood pumped between his legs. His control slipped, and he closed his fingers around her breast.
“I want you, Sam.”
She wound her arms around his neck and pressed her hips to his.
“Baby, don’t. If you’re not going to…” he started.
“But I am,” was her reply.
They had been dating for four weeks. He’d figured it was time. Either she’d sleep with him, or they’d be done. A man can’t wait forever. Especially when the woman was in his soul, his heart, his groin.
He pulled her T-shirt up in the back and ran his fingertips over her bare skin. It was as soft and smooth as he knew it would be. Bull had been dreaming about this moment. He’d divided it into three parts in his fantasies. First, undressing her and looking at her beautiful, naked body. Second was touching her. Stroking, caressing, and squeezing her supple flesh—exploring every hill and valley with his fingers and his tongue. Last—being inside her. The ultimate dream—taking her, claiming her as his, making her quiver with desire, and cry out in release.
Each night he’d focus on a different part. Letting his mind mosey into great detail about making love to Samantha. And now that the process had begun, he was so excited, rock hard within the first two minutes. He prayed he’d be able to control himself to enjoy all three phases.
Samantha pulled up his shirt. Bull ripped it over his head and tossed it on the floor. Her palms flattened against his impressive chest, roaming up and down, her fingers combing the hair there.
“God. Your body,” she moaned.
“Look who’s talking.” He unsnapped her bra and thrust his hand under the material to feel her flesh. He raked his thumb over her erect nipple, eliciting a groan from her.
“Touch me,” she whispered.
Like a match to gasoline, Bull flew into action. He hauled her over his shoulder and descended the stairs like greased lightning. He dumped her gently on his bed, unzipped his jeans, and pushed them down and off. Next, he grabbed her pants and slid them down to keep his company on th
e carpet. She sloughed off her bra. There she lay—the woman of his dreams, of his wet dreams. Lying there, half naked, staring at him with hot eyes.
Never modest, Sly removed his boxers and let his erection show his feelings. Samantha zeroed in on the impressive shaft, standing at attention.
“All for you, baby,” he muttered. He didn’t know where to look first. His gaze slid down her body. Her breasts filled his large hands, her tummy was flat, and her lips were parted, inviting him to take them. He lowered himself until he could reach her mouth.
But kissing wasn’t enough. Sly pushed up, reached for the sides of her red panties, and yanked them down and off. He placed one meaty paw on each knee and parted her legs. His eyes feasted on her sex, his stare growing hotter until he couldn’t stand it anymore.
He scrambled up on his knees on the bed then dove down until his face was between her legs. She cried out at the sudden assault. He raised his head.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. I just didn’t expect…I mean…this is our first. I don’t know.” She waved her hand.
He grinned. “Lie back. Relax, baby. Let me take you to the moon.”
She chuckled, giving one nod and closing her eyes. He returned to his task. She tasted just as good as he had imagined. He worked his tongue slowly, gently. Pressure grew between his legs. She gripped his shoulder hard, causing him to check on her. She appeared lost in desire, so he increased his pace, hearing her cry out before long. When she tapped him, he sat up, grinning, and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth before he kissed her.
“You protected?”
She shook her head.
Sly reached up to the nightstand to retrieve a condom. He had it on in seconds. She raised her legs. He pulled her hips toward him, pushed up on his knees, and held her up off the bed. With a few swipes across her slippery flesh, he entered her slowly, because he wanted to draw out the experience and because he was pretty big and didn’t want to hurt her. She hissed as he slid in all the way. Bull held her as if she were a ragdoll, weighing nothing. Straightening up on his knees, he pulled out, and then thrust into her.
The feel of her, her scent, her tight fit, transported him. He shut his eyes while he struggled to hold on. Damn it! I’m not going to come in five seconds. He was living his dream, and the mixture of love and lust in his blood overwhelmed him. He pumped into her, thrusting all the way in. Her sob scared him. His eyes flew open.
“You okay? Too hard?”
“No, no, it’s…amazing. Don’t stop.”
Her eyes fluttered closed as warmth suffused her face, coloring her cheeks a passionate pink. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth and clutched at him, squeezing his biceps while her hips rocked with his. She contracted around him, making him crazy, tightening his groin, bringing his release on faster. Just as he thought he couldn’t hold back another second, she called out his name. Her hips undulated with him, and her nipples hardened as ecstasy showed on her face.
Bull lost it. The most powerful release he’d ever had, exploded, rocketing a new level of pleasure through his veins. Every nerve was alive and tingling. His breath came in gasps as he yanked her hips up against him and held her tight.
As swiftly as it washed through him, it left, leaving him spent, weak, satisfied, and happy. Sam hooked her ankles together behind his back and smiled up at him.
“Holy, fucking shit. Pardon me, but, damn, that was the hottest, most incredible…ever.” He shook his head slowly, grinning from ear to ear as he pulled out of her. Excusing himself, he pushed to his feet and headed for the bathroom.
* * * *
Samantha lay back on the bed, trying to catch her breath. Although she was certainly not a virgin, she’d never had a lovemaking experience like the one she’d just had with Bull. When he had pulled her close in the band room and touched her breast, she’d lost all control. At night, he had invaded her dreams, creating desire that couldn’t be denied.
A tiny worry about what Devon might say nagged at her. He’s no angel, either. Not like he can talk. She chuckled to herself.
“What’s so funny?” Sly stopped at his dresser, pulled out a T-shirt, and tossed it to her. “Not like I want you to cover up. But it’s chilly in here.”
She glanced down to see that her nipples had contracted again. “Since you’re not touching me, it must be the temperature.”
“I could change that.”
She held up her hand. “Give me a minute to recover.”
“Honey, I could spend all day long touching you,” Sly slipped a maroon robe over his shoulders.
She hated to see his fantastic body disappear behind the fabric. With his back to her, she could study him freely. His wide shoulders drew her gaze first. But his butt was so cute, she couldn’t resist staring. A nice little smack there. Oh, yes. He covered it up before she could imagine squeezing it. His legs were fine, long, thick with muscle, but shaped perfectly. He was quite a beautiful specimen.
“Are all linebackers built like you?” She raised herself up to yank the shirt over her head.
“Most are. We need to be bigger. The guys we go against are heavy-weights.” He tied his sash.
“Sort of like rhinos in the wild.”
“Guess you could say that. Maybe elephants. I’ve got to be big to protect the quarterback.”
“Don’t hear much about the offensive linemen, do you? I mean, from the sportscasters, guys calling the games.”
“Nope. We’re kind of hidden. If we do our job right, you don’t hear about it. If we don’t, that’s all you hear about.” He sat on the edge of the bed.
Samantha pulled the T-shirt down to cover herself. Bull slipped a hand on her thigh, under the fabric. He moved it up, massaging the muscle, his thumb dangerously close to intimate contact.
“Are you starting up again?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Don’t know. Would that be bad?”
She placed her palms on either side of his smooth face and drew his mouth down to hers. After a sweet kiss, she sat back. “Give me a minute to breathe.”
He chuckled. “I’ve been waiting so long to make love. Can’t seem to stop.”
“Long? Four weeks?”
“A lifetime.”
She laughed. “You’re just horny.”
“Athletes. You know. We’ve got raging hormones.”
“Is that what it is? I thought it was me.” She feigned a frown.
“Sweetheart, it is you. Of course, it’s you. Damn it. You can bet it’s you.”
“I’m teasing.”
He smiled, relief evident on his face.
He’s so adorable. Big bear of a guy, but so cute and sweet.
Bull lay back and slipped under the covers. Then, he motioned for her to join him. Samantha snuggled next to him. He pulled her in tighter, and her head rested on his shoulder. She snaked her arm around his waist and listened to his heart. The steady rhythm soothed her. Something about Bullhorn Brodsky seemed so safe. She loved his scent mixed with aftershave. Her fingers pushed a bit into his pecs. Hard as a rock.
They lay there, not speaking. Samantha’s eyelids grew heavy. She listened to his even breathing. His arm around her shoulders stilled. She tingled from his lovemaking. A touch of soreness between her legs reminded her he had been there. A sense of satisfaction mixed with peace had washed over her, bringing sleep.
When he rolled over, slipping his strong arm around her waist and pulling her flush up against him, she awoke. She felt something hard pressing against her belly and realized that Sly was up in more ways than one.
“Hey, beautiful. Wanna make love?” he whispered in her ear.
Before she could answer, his thumb was working her peak. He kissed his way down her neck to her breast. A shudder of anticipation flew through her as he settled his mouth on her flesh. His other hand found her thigh, squeezing the muscle there gently, before slipping up and up. He slid a broad finger across her sex and into her.
She gasped as the smolderi
ng fire she had for him burst into flame again. He pumped two huge fingers into her until she was on the edge.
“Sly, Bull, please. Do it. Do it. Please.”
Flushing with embarrassment, Sam couldn’t believe her words. She had never begged a man for sex and yet, here she was, pleading with Brodsky, offensive lineman of the Kings, to take her. She discarded her pride and grasped his shaft in her hand. It felt like concrete.
“I will, baby. Just relax,” he muttered, taking control.
Samantha lifted her legs, and Bull was inside her before she could utter another word. This time, he fit in easily and pumped in all the way, filling her, making her gasp with pleasure.
He palmed her rear end, pulling it closer while his hips undulated, moving inside her, driving her wild with desire. The tension he created rose and tightened like a vise, the intensity climbing higher and higher until she burst into orgasm. He increased the pace to make it last. Samantha gasped, buried her face in his neck, and sucked on his skin.
Bull’s release followed immediately after.
“Damn, girl. You get me going.”
“It’s mutual.”
He kissed her then ran his hand down her chest, all the way to her thigh. His touch seared her skin. Her need satisfied, she didn’t know why she still reacted to him.
He sat back and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “If I don’t get up, we’re going to be here all day.”
And that would be bad? Samantha, you slut. She wiggled her way to the edge of the mattress and glanced up at Sly as she plucked the jersey off the floor.
“If you’re gonna move like that, I’m gonna get started again.”
“Again?” She raised her eyebrows.
He chuckled. “You, baby. You.”
Although Samantha had met plenty of men who made their desire for sex clear, Sly was the first to attach it to his passion for her. Her pulse kicked up when he said nice things, making her feel wanted. It appeared as if Bullhorn Brodsky wasn’t afraid to be open about his heart. Knowing where she stood calmed her. Did she have the upper hand? Perhaps. But it wasn’t a game. It was a love affair, a win/win situation. She sighed, shoving her arms through the gigantic sleeves.
Sly Bullhorn Brodsky Page 5
