Forward Passes (Seattle Lumberjacks)

by Jami Davenport

  Never one to disappoint a woman, Tyler held her waist in a vise-like grip. He banged her up and down on his cock in rapid succession.

  He nipped at her shoulder, and she cried out, obviously beyond caring about the pilot. He pumped harder, faster, driving deep and hard with each hungry stroke. Their bodies collided in an unrestrained frenzy of slapping and thrusting. Positioning Lavender’s legs over his shoulders, he drove in deeper and harder. She begged for more. Oh, yeah, his lady liked it rough at times. This happened to be one of those times. Ignoring his aching muscles and protesting cock, he rammed into her over and over. She slammed her incredible pussy down onto his dick until it ached in the most freaking incredible way.

  His balls tightened, his dick jerked. Leveraging her upward, he slammed her down and ground his cock deep and high inside her. She shuddered and leaned back, pressing him even deeper. Her legs wrapped around his waist with surprising strength for one so small.

  Her pussy tightened around him as he came in a fevered eruption of passion. Emptying all that he was or would be inside her, he left it all out on the field with a fervor which eluded him when it came to other aspects of his life. She shuddered on top of him and came, the incredible high written all over her face. Obviously, it was as good for her as it was for him.

  He slipped into a temporary lust-induced coma. Holding her close, he whispered nonsense in her ear, terms of endearment, sweet promises of devotion, crap he never said to any woman.

  He bit back the most terrifying phrase of all: I love you. Even as it sat on the tip of his tongue.

  Buried in the haze of incredible sex, his brain played tricks on him. It had to be.

  He looked up to meet the pilot’s eyes. The man winked at him and went back to his business.

  Chapter 22

  Blown Coverage

  Lavender sipped wine and swapped stories with Derek’s wife, Rachel. They’d become fast friends after meeting in the bleachers earlier in the day. Nearby Tyler and Derek stood together, drinking beer and making small talk with the athletes and media gathered in the reception room following the Seattle area sports awards. For the second straight year in a row, Tyler won Athlete of the Year. He mustered up his expected panache and gave a rousing speech thanking his teammates, namely his offensive line and his receivers. Then he accepted the award on behalf of his defense, christening them as the real heroes of the season.

  Lavender swelled with pride for him. It’d been a tough weekend, but he’d survived. Zach Murphy might be a thorn in his side, but the guy would goad Tyler out of his self-induced indifference or die trying. She couldn’t hate the man for wanting the old Tyler back on the field even if she didn’t agree with his in-your-face methods.

  Between the awards and last night’s plane ride, the weekend wasn’t a total loss. Sex at a few thousand feet about sea level exceeded even the high expectations she’d set when it came to sex with Tyler Harris. Her man delivered once again.

  Lavender froze. Her man? When had she started considering him her man? They weren’t a couple. They couldn’t be. They had too many strikes against them. They’d never be the type of couple that friends and family mentioned in the same breath as if they were one unit.

  Just to torture herself, she tried linking them together in her mind.

  Lavender and Tyler. What a mouthful. Vinnie and Ty. Much better.

  Yeah, she liked the sounds of that. Too much. Their situation blurred her firmly held line between sex with a jock and a relationship with one. She’d be a fool to blur it even further in her mind.

  Tyler interrupted her introspection by moving to her side and claiming her hand. He seemed relaxed and content for once. Rachel slid next to Derek, who hooked an arm over her shoulder and pulled her close. An unexpected twinge of jealousy shot through Lavender. She wanted what they had with a powerful surge of longing that set her back on her heels. Heaven help her if she fooled herself into thinking she’d have an emotional connection with Tyler.

  “Having fun?” Tyler grinned down at her. He wrapped a lock of her hair around his big finger.

  “I would be if the man of the hour asked me to dance.” She gazed up at him, and her insides turned weird, all soft and sticky, like a great caramel chocolate bar left too long in the sun.

  “It’d be my pleasure.” He offered her his tuxedo-clad arm, and the man did look fine in his form-fitting tuxedo that emphasized his broad shoulders and hugged his fine ass.

  Derek elbowed Tyler and caught his attention. “Hey, don’t look now, but Coach Gerloch is headed our way.”

  The smile dropped off her lips. Cold fear sliced through Lavender. She snapped her head around in the direction Derek was looking.

  Her father.

  Tyler had promised her he wouldn’t be in attendance. “Did you plan this?” So much for the chocolate bar. She glared at him, reeling from the hurt and betrayal.

  “No, I promise. I didn’t think he would be here.” His apology was cut short as his college coach’s long strides ate up the distance between them. Her father’s unfathomable eyes never left her face. Tyler stepped in front of her in an instinctual protective gesture.

  Oblivious, Derek’s face broke into a grin at the sight of their old college coach. The two shook hands vigorously then Derek introduced him to Rachel. Expectantly, they turned to Tyler and Lavender.

  Coach nodded at Ty and stuck his hand out. Tyler snubbed him, refusing to shake it. He stood taller, chin jutted out in stubborn defiance. Lavender stepped to his side, not allowing him to fight her battles. She’d handle her father.

  “Good to see you, Ty.” Gerloch’s brow furrowed as he regarded Tyler with wary watchfulness. He turned to Lavender, the moment of truth. She’d give anything for a glass of water as her mouth dried up like a pond in a drought. She twisted her ring, the one he’d given her for her sixteenth birthday, and the only item from her father she’d kept. His quick glance downward indicated he noticed.

  Brian Gerloch clutched a wine glass in his hand and swallowed. The pulse in the side of his neck throbbed. He’d gotten older since she’d last seen him. The lines on his face and gray in his hair didn’t diminish his good looks. Her convictions caved slightly at the sadness in his eyes, but she shored them up and braced herself.

  “Vinnie, honey, how are you?” He made a move to hug her, but Tyler pulled her against his body, coming to the rescue.

  As much as she wanted to call him Brian, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. “I’m fine, Dad, but you wouldn’t know that, would you?” All of the hurt and anger she’d kept bottled up for years bubbled to the surface. Like a volcano building to the big eruption, the emotions had festered inside her. Derek and Rachel swapped shocked glances.

  “Honey, I’m sorry. I’d like to talk to you.” He slumped slightly and seemed so lost, so vulnerable, his expression so at odds with the strong, fearless man she’d known.

  Emotions clogged her throat and threatened to reduce her to blubbering mass of sobbing, weak female. Exactly what she didn’t want to do. Instead, she’d get the hell out of there before she embarrassed herself and gave her father a clue as to how much he’d hurt her.

  “I have nothing to say to you.” She turned on her spiked heel and ran from the room before she did something stupid, like forgive him.

  Not waiting for the elevator, she ran down the stairwell, out the door of the hotel to the sidewalk. The rain pelted her body, drenched her evening dress, and wilted her carefully styled hair. She hailed a cab and was opening the door by the time Tyler caught her. He pulled her into his arms.

  “Vinnie, where are you going?” His blue eyes brimmed with concern as he gazed down at her.

  Dumb question, Harris. “Back to the island.”

  “I’m coming with you.” The determination in his eyes didn’t allow argument.

  She argued anyway. “Please, Ty, I need to be alone. Let me go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Her voice cracked. He raised a hand and wiped her face with his finger, even though i
t was damn difficult to know where the tears ended and the raindrops started.

  “Are you sure?” He didn’t look convinced in the least. “I can’t leave you alone.”

  “Please. If you care even a little bit for me, give me space. Besides, if you leave in the middle of the party, that’ll start more rumors.”

  “I’ll deal with it.”

  “Ty, please. Stay for me. Okay? I’ll be all right. I’ve been through this before. I appreciate your concern, but take care of yourself.”

  “I can’t—” He clamped his hands on her shoulders.

  “You can. I’ll see you tomorrow. I want to go home to the island and get away from this city. You need to stay here and show the world Tyler Harris is still a force in Seattle sports.”

  Tyler’s mouth covered hers. For a moment, she forgot what she was running from. Lavender wrenched away from him and slipped into the back seat. He let her go. “See you soon.”

  Tyler bent down and handed the taxi driver some cash then gazed back at her. “Do you need airfare?”

  She shook her head and forced a grin. “I still have your credit card.” On that note, she signaled to the taxi driver to take off. Lavender looked over her shoulder. Tyler stood in his tux on the sidewalk, rain pouring down around him. He stayed there as the Taxi drove out of sight.

  Chapter 23

  Block in the Back

  Tyler stood in the pouring rain, not moving until Lavender’s taxi turned the corner and disappeared. Riddled with guilt for not going with her when she needed him most, he walked back into the hotel lobby and shook the rain off his tux.

  He’d rather follow Lavender, maybe cajole her into another round of in-flight sex, which would make both of them forget their problems, at least temporarily.

  Maybe he’d leave as soon as he went back inside to grab his trophy. The press would crucify him if he left it on the table. They use it as one more piece of evidence regarding his lack of dedication, or they’d claim he drank too much to remember he’d gotten an award. Lavender was right about him staying. They’d be all over his ass for skipping out early.

  At least camp was over, for now. He could crawl back to the relative obscurity of the islands and lick his wounds. It’d been another shitty day at mini-camp. He’d paced the sidelines and watched as his backup, Sam Pollard, took all the reps. The fact that he felt inclined to pace was somewhat encouraging. At least, he cared enough to be frustrated, definitely a step in the right direction.

  Murphy did everything except stand on his head to make sure Pollard looked good. Under Murphy’s influence, the defense missed easy tackles and let receivers beat them. Judging by the quizzical look on HughJack’s face, he’d noticed their lack of effort, too. Instead of ranting on the sidelines, he observed it all, as if biding his time. Hell if Tyler knew for what, but HughJack did everything for a reason.

  Tyler’s uncharacteristic ineptitude and lack of desire for the game troubled Tyler more than being benched. Two plus months on the island hadn’t glued those broken pieces back together. Somehow, he’d hoped mile-high sex with Lavender might help cure his woes, even perform a miracle. Instead, once the incredible high wore off, he found himself mired in doubt as the situation between them grew more complicated.

  Lavender added one more complex piece to his confusing life.

  Oddly enough, Tyler didn’t enjoy his return to the city as much as expected. Several times during the evening, he’d checked his watch, doing a mental countdown until the limo picked them up to take them to the floatplane. He’d spent the first half of the evening, imagining getting Lavender out of her little black dress, pushing down those the thin shoulder straps and lifting up that tight little skirt to nothing underneath. Maybe a repeat of the night before. His greedy cock had signaled its approval of that plan. Then Brian Gerloch’s appearance ruined what should’ve been a perfect night for them. The hypocrisy of the man cut deep, as Tyler witnessed firsthand the damage her father’s indifference did to Vinnie.

  A feeling of protectiveness overwhelmed Tyler. He wanted to do battle for Lavender and make this man pay for the emotional wounds he’d inflicted on her because of his own selfishness.

  Hell, he didn’t blame the guy for avoiding that controlling bitch Doris, but he did blame him for deserting his daughter. She deserved better of her father. Coach preached family and commitment, but he sure as hell didn’t live it. That didn’t work for Tyler.

  Brian Gerloch wasn’t the man Tyler thought he was. Did anyone in this world measure up with the exception of his father? Tyler frowned. His dad was unapproachable when it came to hero material and much more deserving than a man like Gerloch. Fuck, Coach was even less of a hero than Tyler was.

  Except Lavender considers me a hero. The thought warmed his heart and gave him hope.

  Slipping back into the ballroom, he made a beeline for the bar and ordered a double whiskey.

  A few seconds later, Derek grabbed his arm and whipped him around. “What the hell was that all about? Coach Gerloch has a daughter? He’s Lavender’s father?”

  Rachel flanked Derek, her hand on her husband’s arm and her green eyes filled with concern.

  “I guess you could call him that. He donated the sperm, but not much else.” Tyler threw back his drink and grabbed another off a waiter’s tray. He scanned the crowd, ready to pull a disappearing act if Gerloch headed his way. He hated hiding, but it beat planting a fist in the man’s face and ending up on the evening news.

  Derek shook his head, in denial like Tyler had been earlier. “No fucking way.”

  “Oh, yeah. Big fu—flipping way. She hates him and so does her family. He abandoned her and right after her mother died. Really messed her up.” Of course, Doris contributed big-time to the overall picture, but right now he could only deal with one of Lavender’s dysfunctional family members at a time.

  “Wow, I never pegged him as the kind to shirk his responsibilities.”

  “He didn’t just shirk them; he acted as if they never existed.”

  “Well, brace yourself. He’s coming our way again, and he looks none too happy.”

  His escape cut off, Tyler leaned nonchalantly against a wall and pretended he hadn’t a care in the world. His chickenshit cousin and his wife slipped away, leaving the two men to settle their own differences.

  “Who shoved a football up your ass?” Coach kept his voice low, not wanting to be heard in the crowded room. He sipped a glass of wine; his other hand shoved in his pocket. By all outside appearances, their conversation was nothing out of the ordinary. Yet, tension crackled between the two of them like two Pro-Bowl linemen facing off on fourth and inches.

  “It appears you did.” Tyler fisted his hands and crammed them against his sides in an attempt to keep from beating the shit out of a man he once respected. He squared up to his coach, legs slightly apart, body tense with anger. He fought the urge to wipe the arrogant expression from the asshole’s face. “I’ve got better things to do than waste time with you.”

  “Harris. If you’re one thing, you’re straightforward. Quit beating around the proverbial bush and say what you fucking want to say. You’ve never been one to hold back.”

  “I inherited Twin Cedars. You familiar with it?”

  Momentary surprise flickered in eyes. He hadn’t known. “Of course, I am. I wondered what happened to that place. I guess it stayed in your family.”

  “Sure as hell did. Your daughter is my neighbor. I’ve heard all about you—the side you keep hidden.”

  The man’s face fell, a look of profound grief sunk his features into his face. Tyler almost felt sorry for him. “I’m betting you’ve met my ex-wife’s mother, too.” Coach’s shoulders slumped. In less than two seconds he became a shell of the man he once was.

  “I’ve had the pleasure.”

  Coach rubbed the back of his neck and stared out the window at the Seattle nightscape. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Fuck. Is nothing sacred? She destroyed my relationship with my family, my
closest friends, pretty much everyone but my son. Even he was under her spell for a while. Now she’s trapping my former players in her web.”

  “You deserted your daughter when she needed you most.” Tyler refused to be swayed. The man was full of bullshit.

  “I did, but not because I didn’t care. By the tone of your voice, we have nothing further to talk about, you’ve convicted me without hearing both sides.”

  “What the fuck am I supposed to do?” Tyler’s head pounded as his confusion battled with self-righteous anger.

  “Form your own opinions once you have all the facts.”

  “You were my mentor, the guy I wanted to be someday. You held me up when my dad died unexpectedly. You filled in for him, kept me sane.” Tyler’s voice cracked. He backed up a step, no longer feeling combative, just betrayed and puzzled.

  “Ty, I can’t begin to explain all this. You’d never believe me if I did.”

  “I don’t know who to believe.”

  “It’s not a matter of believing, it’s a matter of judgment. You need to weigh your experiences with me against what you’ve been told. You need to decide based on what you know about me as a person.” Coach raised his eyes to meet Tyler’s. “Listen, let’s talk somewhere alone. Meet me in the bar in ten minutes?”

  Tyler hesitated then nodded. He had to hear the story from his coach.

  A few minutes later, Tyler hunched over his beer and waited for Coach to join him. The hotel bar was dark and private. Only a few people sat at tables scattered around the room. No one paid him any attention. That should have bothered him. It would have a few months ago, but Tyler found the privacy oddly comforting.

  He didn’t wait long. He’d only taken a few swigs of beer when Coach slid into the seat across from his.