by Nana Malone
He kissed the hollow just behind her ear as he circled the sensitive bundle of nerves with his finger and she lost all brain function. "Help me, sweetheart. Teach me what you like."
"I—" Oh God, she needed him to keep going. To not stop. To never stop. "I—I don't know. I've never done this before."
The moment the words were out of her mouth, she froze. Oh, shit. What had she just said? Out loud. To Dax-I’m-a-freaking-sex-God-Coulter?
Dax raised his head slowly to meet her gaze. Even as his fingers stroked over her clit, his eyes searched hers for truth.
When he saw it, he frowned. But he didn't release her. "You're a virgin." He said it as more statement than question.
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Once more with feeling. "Y-yes."
It was only then that she saw it. The flash of something. Not anger, more like pain. Then he gritted his teeth and gently removed his finger as he dropped his forehead to hers. "Fuck. I am so goddamned sorry."
She missed his heat as soon as he was gone. But not just his touch, the reverent way he'd looked at her. He covered her up with the sheet and scooted to the edge of the bed.
Aching for his touch, Asha propped herself up on her elbows.
He gave her his back from where he sat, hunched at the foot of the bed, his head bowed.
"Dax?" she breathed, suddenly very aware of her half-naked state, and how cool the temperature in the room really was. She scrambled to her knees and crawled to him.
"I shouldn't have done that. I'm really fucking sorry. I’m such an asshole."
A wash of shame and guilt spilled over her. But a stronger flash of rebellion overpowered it. "Why?" It was technically a question, but she meant it to be rhetorical, a challenge. She reached out and caressed the knot of muscle where his neck branched out to his shoulders. He tensed briefly, before finally relaxing.
"I am a dick. Everyone knows this. I know it. And I didn't think it was possible, but I've actually made it worse. I promised your brother I would look out for you. Not—" he muttered "—this."
She blinked. "You stopped because you promised my brother?"
Dax's head shot up as he registered the anger in her voice. She shoved her arms into the sleeves of her shirt, but her hands shook too much to button it properly. She could only hold it closed while she turned on Dax.
"You don't think we should sleep together because my brother might object? Are you saying my brother gets to determine who I sleep with, and when?"
"What?" Dax asked, completely thrown by the track her mind had taken. "No!" He jumped to his feet and moved toward her. "You're a virgin. And this, what I almost just did, is typical Dax. I might not know shit, but I do know your first time should matter."
"Shouldn't I say how it goes?"
He licked his lips and her gaze fixated on his tongue. "Absolutely. But I get to be a good guy for once. Please let me."
The tears pricked behind her eyes, but she blinked them away. This was fine. Whatever. So what, if she just got rejected by the guy who'd fuck anything that moved. "It's fine. We'll forget it happened."
"Asha. This has nothing to do—"
She couldn't take it if he kept apologizing. "It's fine. A momentary lapse in judgment."
His brows snapped down. "Are you serious, right now?"
"Yep. Whole thing forgotten. We got carried away."
His frown only deepened. "That's how you want to play it?"
She nodded. "Dax, I'm already embarrassed and mortified enough. Can you just let it go?"
He searched her gaze intently before grabbing his discarded shirt. "Asha—"
"I'm okay. Give me the night, and it's back to normal."
She managed to hold it together until he finally left. She knew one thing. Okay, two. Kissing Dax and getting intimate with him had ruined her for other guys. Fact. Second, there was no way they could ever be alone together again. Ever.
"Sam, I did something stupid." Asha sat against the hotel room door, with a blanket wrapped around her.
"Well considering my bestie is no dummy, there must have been extenuating circumstances. Are we talking rule number one, two, three, or four?”
Asha’s rules were simple.
Do not screw up at work
Do not under any circumstances sleep with one of the players
Do not under any circumstances fall in love with one of the players.
Do not let a relationship interfere with her job.
“This is in more rule two territory.”
Sam was her best friend. Hell, sometimes it felt like her only friend. They'd known each other since they were three. And Sam hadn't abandoned her through those awkward teen years, or even when she had been shipped off to college at fifteen and a half. "I beg to differ. That Asha apparently has left the building and has been replaced with a hormonal, irrational one."
There was a beat of silence. Then Sam said. "Asha baby, are you telling me you finally lost your V card?"
"No." She could most feel the sigh. "But, that was not for lack of trying."
"I don't understand. Start at the beginning and leave nothing out. I want to know everything about the hot piece of man that got Asha Wix to sit up and take notice."
Asha rambled out the story, leaving out the TMI parts, even though Sam begged for them.
"Dude, you were seriously about to break rule number two."
"I know, Sam. I know. It was so stupid. And the moment he kissed me, it was like I wasn't even listening to the rational part of my brain that screamed, ‘Hey, what are you thinking?’"
"Uh, baby girl, I just looked him up. That is Dax-fucking-Coulter? You've been holding out. And if you don't jump him, I will. I mean the guy looks like Superman, but leaner. Do you see the abs on him?"
"Yes—no. I don't know. Look, what do I do?"
"Well, what do you want to do?
"I don't want to think with my—"
"Vajayjay," Sam offered helpfully.
"Sam, I'm serious."
"Okay, okay." Her best friend laughed. "I get it. But, honey, all your life, you've been Asha Wix. You are the perfect student, the perfect daughter, the perfect sister. You have never stepped a toe out of line. You have to remember, though, that no one is truly perfect, and I think you should take your own advice to Mr. Rock-Me-in-the-Sack, and not beat yourself up over it. You and I both know there would be a real connection there, otherwise you wouldn't have been trying to see if he really is a sex god."
"He's not—"
"What? A sex god?"
Asha flushed. "No, I mean, he's obviously good looking and sexy. But that profile that you see of him…that's not him. He stopped. I wanted to, but he pulled back, trying to be respectful."
"And honey, that's great. I just don't want you to get in too deep here. As long as he's lovely to you, then great. Hook up all you want. But, don't get attached. He's a professional athlete. He's a player in more ways than one. And you certainly don't fall in love with a guy like that."
"I know." Asha ran a hand through her hair. "I need to get over this. Back to business."
Sam's exhale was long, and not so quiet. "That's not what I'm saying. I think you spend so much time being perfect you could use some fun. I'm just asking you not to fall for this guy. You've waited a long time to have some guy rev you up like that. It's good for you. Remember what your mom always used to fight with your Dad about. How she wanted you guys to live a full life. This is what she meant. Fun is part of that."
"I hear you Sam, but this is my career. What happened… I can't let it happen again. It's too important."
"You're not going to listen to me, are you?" Sam asked.
"Normally, I would. You are all-knowing. But I've worked so hard. And you're right, Dax Coulter isn't a sticker. I just have to keep my distance."
Sam only laughed wryly. "Yeah, good luck with that."
Stumbling through his door, Dax crossed the room and flopped facedown on the bed, breathing in the scent of the cheap detergent
the hotel used to launder the sheets. He set his alarm for eight-thirty, and then headed to take a shower. As reluctant as he was to wash the scent of Asha from his skin, he wouldn't be able to sleep with it there, and he knew he should at least try to get some rest.
The water pressure was high, and it beat down on all the sore places, as well as muscles that would be worse in a few hours. He fought to push the thoughts of Asha from his head.
It never happened, he repeated to himself. For all intents and purposes, it never happened. Think of what would happen if it got out—do you really want to hurt her career like that? Do you want that hanging over your head? And she may not care what Damon thinks—and she does have a point—but it would still change things between you and Damon. He wouldn't be able to look at you without thinking of the things you've done with his sister.
He clung to those thoughts, and waited for the guilt to bloom in his chest at the thought of his betrayal, but it didn't happen. He knew that what happened between him and Asha would never—could never—happen again, and for that reason he was incapable of regret.
As the sad reality of that concept sunk in, a chill ran through him, as though the water from the shower had suddenly gone cold. He turned it up hotter, and a part of him knew he was in danger of scalding his skin, but he couldn't register the heat.
He turned the water off, toweled down, and headed to bed, certain of finding bliss—whether in the oblivion of sleep or in dreams of Asha.
Thirteen
Forgetting Asha and what had happened in her room was next to impossible for Dax. Hell, the only time he wasn't thinking of her or what she tasted like, was when he was on the field. And lucky for them, they had been winning.
The team headed back to Jacksonville for three days before hitting the road again for Denver. The players' curfew remained the same, but with the elevation, most of the guys were less inclined to take advantage of the nightlife Denver had to offer and more inclined to acclimatize.
And while things on the field were looking good, he couldn't take his eyes off of Asha. All it took to get him going was hearing her laugh. When he and Asha were out for dinner with a few other players and their PR buddies, he had to snap his attention away any time she looked at him. While he was having a problem with focus, she seemed…completely unaffected. As if what had happened with them had zero effect on her.
"I don't know what you've done, but you seem to have Coulter well under control," Aaron Espenson commented from across the table. "He's been more…subdued the last week."
"Let's hope it lasts," Asha laughed.
Dax knew it was standard ribbing, but he hated it coming from her.
"So, how'd your pitch go?"
Dax glared at Espenson. He needed to shut up, for starters. Then maybe stop looking at Asha like she was a steak and he was starving.
Asha flinched. "Well…I got some pushback, but I was expecting that."
Aaron looked skeptical. "I was in there when they were looking over the chatter for Coulter these last few weeks, and they were pleased."
"We'll see if they're still pleased in a month or two." Asha said cautiously and slid a glance at Dax again. He wasn't looking away this time. From where he sat, he could see her pupils dilate when her lips parted. Blood roared in his skull, and he couldn't hear a thing. Fuck, she was so beautiful. But she flushed and broke eye contact.
Okay, so maybe he wasn't the only one affected.
Phil Clark, who'd been eavesdropping on their conversation asked, "What was your pitch anyway? I went in after you did, and they looked like they'd just found out someone they loved was being held hostage."
"They did look a little green," she grinned. She enjoyed holding management by the balls. If possible, it made Dax feel even more attracted to her. "I think they're relying too heavily on Dax's last name."
"But he's a Coulter," Aaron interrupted, stating the obvious.
"Yeah, but if they play that up, they're putting a very specific kind of pressure on him. And he doesn't have to be Rory Coulter. He can be Dax and be great. The focus belongs on him. And we can make him shine." Dax kept his eyes down. She was fighting for him. No one ever fought for him. She continued, "He is never going to be a player like his grandfather, because the game isn't the same as it was back then. I think he has incredible potential, if we give him the room to figure it out for himself."
"No wonder they looked baffled," Phil muttered. "You're supposed to be the most promising of the new hires, and you walked in there to shoot down the easiest marketing plan they had."
"It just sounds to me like you missed a few classes of Marketing 101." Aaron's tone was patronizing.
Dax just barely resisted the urge to walk over to the other side of the table and hit the guy.
But Asha didn't need him. "In my experience marketing people is about more than just the customer." Her voice was clear. "If the player isn't happy, it doesn't matter how much you push an angle. It won't ring true and the fans will not only pick up on the disparity, it can affect their view of the organization as a whole."
"If you think ignoring his lineage is going to—"
"I'm not saying ignore it altogether, I'm saying let someone else bring it up first," she interrupted, causing both Phil and Aaron to draw back in surprise. "If we bring it up and shove it in the media's faces, we come off looking like his name is the only reason he's here. Which, if you've seen him run a pass, is completely inaccurate."
"I wouldn't be surprised if they let you have your way just to shut you up," Phil remarked under his breath.
Asha narrowed her gaze and Dax knew where this was going. Someone was getting an ass-handing. He excused himself and headed for her end of the table. "Hey, Asha, can we go over the notes for the endorser pitch?"
With a steely-eyed glance, she looked like she wanted to argue, but then she nodded. "Sure, let's go."
As they walked out, he kept his voice low. "You okay?"
"You didn't have to save me."
"Are you kidding me? I knew you were going to rip him a new one."
The autumn evening chill combined with the thinner air made her shiver. Dax fell into step beside her, staying close to try and cut some of the wind, until they passed a café.
"D'you mind if we pop in here, real quick?" he asked.
Asha shrugged. "Whatever."
Maybe chocolate would help calm her. Women loved chocolate, right? Being around her, he felt like he knew nothing about women.
After retrieving a few dessert options from the counter, Dax set up camp at a table along the wall, where they could see people pass on the sidewalk but weren't shoved up against the glass to be watched in turn. The minute they were settled, Dax dove into a large piece of chocolate cake.
"I should know better by now," Asha said as she watched him, "but you don't seem to be as strict with your nutrition as some of the other players."
He laughed as he chewed and swallowed. "I tried it for a while once in college, but I was miserable and I couldn't see that it really improved my performance enough to justify how grumpy it made me. Actually, Damon was the one who told me to just eat what the fuck I wanted and stop chewing everyone out instead."
Asha laughed and nodded, filling her mouth with a bite of brownie coated with a thick layer of mint icing. She sighed and closed her eyes. And he couldn't take his eyes off of her. Focus, dude.
"From what I saw earlier, you don't always like to do what people expect either," he said.
She rolled her eyes. "My job isn't to do what people expect, but to do my job the best way I see fit. If that means I surprise them, it's on them for being narrow-minded in the first place. Honestly, my ability to think outside the box was supposed to be one of the reasons why they hired me. Now I'm being criticized for it. Sorry," she apologized. "I shouldn't have gone off like that." She took another huge bite of her brownie and chewed quietly for a moment.
"Don't worry about it," Dax said as he continued devouring his piece of chocolate cake
. She'd done it for him. "You've got more nerve than most of those assholes. They've gotten too used to things being a certain way, and it's made them lazy. The whole point of the shakeup was to change things, because the old ways weren't working. Look at the team now. We've finally been playing well."
"So do the new coaches have you guys running through a lot of the old plays, or have they got you trying different things?" she asked once her mouth was empty.
He shrugged. "Bit of both. Can't fall into predictability, or it makes it easier for your opponents to adjust their play to stop you."
"Have you ever designed a play yourself?"
Dax took another bite of cake, and after a moment, shook his head. No, he hadn't. But it didn't mean he didn't want to. Sometimes he could see the openings in ways the QB couldn't.
"So, no. Have you ever tried to design a play before?" she said, pushing the issue.
"It's not my place to suggest plays," he answered. "I'm a wide receiver. I have to go where I'm told, when I'm told, and do what I can to catch the ball. QB calls the plays, and I execute them."
"So basically, you're saying you haven't because it isn't your job?" She unfolded a napkin, and took a highlighter from her purse. "Explain to me one of your favorite plays," she prompted.
Man, she didn't give up.
She really wanted to know? He narrowed his eyes at her, skeptical and uncertain, but set his fork down, took the marker from her, and drew a series of Xs, Os, and arrows, narrating the different positions and the responsibilities of those players.
When he was finished, Asha asked him a series of questions about how they might adjust on the field if the opposing team reacted in this way instead of that. He sometimes forgot that she knew the game so well. Her father was the commissioner of the NFL, for the love of God. She'd better know the game. He examined the diagram on the napkin, and turned it slightly so he could picture the larger field of play. All the while aware of Asha's gaze on him.
When she'd run out of questions regarding the first play, she asked him to illuminate the details of a second. As she talked, she helped him finish his cake. After enjoying the last few bites, Dax grabbed another napkin and did the same as before while Asha finished her brownie. His enthusiasm grew, but he kept a tight hold on it. He liked doing this stuff, but he couldn't let himself get too carried away.
