Home Field Advantage

by Liz Lincoln

  “It was a nice event,” Natalie said. There was a note of strain in her voice.

  Quinn told himself it was because she was rattled by his nearness and struggled to keep her composure. He was happy to cling to his illusion as long as possible. “It was,” he agreed.

  “That’s fantastic that they got the NIH grant.”

  Quinn murmured his assent. She continued with small talk, saying nothing of substance, and he continued giving noncommittal answers. He knew she rambled like this when she was nervous and he liked that he had her off balance. At least they shared that.

  “I can’t decide if I should do a short write-up of the event tonight, then a full article tomorrow after I clarify a few points with Celia, or if I do the whole thing tonight. Either way, I should probably post at least a few hundred words before I go to bed.”

  That pulled his attention away from simply reveling in her nearness. “Tonight? You can’t wait until tomorrow?”

  She leaned her shoulders away from him so she could look into his face. With every few steps they took, she’d moved just a little closer. They were now pressed fully together. It was driving him batshit to have her so close and yet not be able to kiss the hell out of her like he wanted.

  And because he was a guy and because he was horny, he took the opportunity to glance down for a peek at her cleavage. Surely having her breasts pressed that firmly against him would create an amazing view.

  Except, for all it bared on her arm, her dress was surprisingly modest in the neckline. He didn’t get even a hint of shadow. Which sent another surge of lust through him, further proving he was lost over this woman. Since when did high necklines turn him on?

  “I mean, my boss didn’t say I had to write something tonight.”

  His gaze came back to Natalie’s face in time to see frustration flash over her features. But before he could ask what it was, she continued.

  “I already have my work in for today, and I’m not sure she even remembered this event was happening. She juggles a lot of balls. But I’m hoping for a promotion after the season and, well, I think it would just be a good idea.”

  Moving of its own volition, his hand came up and brushed a nonexistent hair off her face. He skimmed his fingers down her cheek, resting them at the back of her neck. He thought maybe a faint smile ghosted over her mouth, but he couldn’t be sure. Her hand, which he’d released, settled at his waist.

  “You work too hard.” She deserved a boss who recognized and praised her for how awesome a reporter she was. Even in the moments when he loathed the sight of her name on an article, he could admit she was one of the best at her job.

  Now she did smile. And laugh. “Says the man who busts his ass six days a week so three-hundred-pound men can slam him to the ground.”

  He grinned back. One thing he’d always loved about Natalie was how she understood that being a pro athlete was work. Yes, they made a shit ton of money—though in college that certainly hadn’t been the case—but they worked their asses off to be the best of the best of the best. They weren’t pampered man-babies like some people thought they were. He had the bruises and strained muscles to prove it.

  He certainly enjoyed a lot of privileges because of his status as an NFL player. But it wasn’t all puppies and rainbows. Natalie got that about him. He loved knowing there was someone out there besides his teammates who understood him that deeply.

  Loved.

  There was a loaded word. But it was the feeling he loved, not the woman. He might want her, but he was far from falling back in love with her. Too much had happened, too many years and hurts separated them. They could never again be more than acquaintances who had sex.

  The music changed, and on instinct Quinn pulled Natalie in tighter, his body recognizing the new song before his brain did. It was the old U2 hit “With or Without You.” It had been playing at the party in college when they first kissed. Because of that, they’d often played it while they had sex. It was most definitely their song.

  The singer of the band tonight was no Bono, but he was decent. He captured the raw emotion of the song in a good imitation of the popular band’s singer.

  Afraid if he looked at her face he would kiss her, Quinn instead put his cheek to her temple again, sliding his hand down so both of his met at the small of her back and he could hold her close. Her arms also wrapped around him, their bodies now flush against each other.

  He couldn’t stop himself from brushing his lips over her hair, a whisper of a kiss he felt deep inside. But it was just the song. He wasn’t really feeling things for her beyond lust. He would stay focused on that and not let himself get mixed up and think he felt more.

  “Natalie,” he murmured. He didn’t know what else he planned to say. It didn’t seem like the moment to tell her he wanted to take her home with him. But her name had come out.

  She leaned back, her eyes round as she looked at him. Her lips parted but no sound came out.

  She was killing him. If that wasn’t an invitation to devour her, he didn’t know what was. But he couldn’t. Not here, in front of everyone. He groaned softly, just enough so she could tell his frustration.

  “Quinn, I—” Her gaze searched his face.

  What was she looking for? He tried to put his hunger in his expression, let her know what he wanted. But hell if he had any clue if it worked. She just kept watching, looking. And all the while moving with him.

  Finally she closed her eyes and drew in a long, slow breath. Her face was tight, expression strained. Quinn’s whole body went on alert, anticipating her next move. On some level, he sensed this was the moment. She was going to say she wanted him too. He just knew it.

  Her lashes lifted and she looked up at him with those big blue eyes. “I need…”

  Yes. Say it. Say you want me too.

  “I need to go.”

  * * *

  —

  She was a coward. A pathetic coward. Next to her, Dorothy’s lion buddy deserved a medal of courage.

  But she knew that look on Quinn’s face. She knew with deep familiarity the way his hazel eyes darkened to almost hunter green, the way he held her changed subtly when he wanted her. She’d known it as soon as he asked her to dance and she’d tempted fate by agreeing.

  Because she wanted him too. As much of a mistake as it would be to give in, she’d told herself there was no harm in dancing a few songs.

  Except once he put his hands on her, all those feelings came rushing back. From a few weeks ago. From years ago. And while her desire wasn’t as apparent as his, his semi-hard cock pressing her hip as they got closer, she wanted it just as much.

  She was a complete coward. She wanted it but she was terrified to give in. When their song came on, the memories of making love in his tiny bedroom in the house he’d shared with three teammates had overwhelmed her. And when he whispered her name, she’d been as close to begging a man as she’d ever been in her life. So what had she done?

  She ran.

  Just like she always did to Quinn, she’d run away without an explanation. She’d grabbed her bag from the table, paused at coat check to get her jacket, and hurried to the exit.

  The click of her shoes on the concrete floor echoed through the nearly deserted parking garage. She’d been so absorbed in the feel of Quinn pressed against her, she hadn’t realized they were some of the last lingering people at the event. Only a few cars remained in the garage. She recognized Matt’s black SUV, a scattering of other cars, and of course Quinn’s Camaro. Sweetness.

  An unwanted memory flashed in her head, of the two of them in the passenger seat of the car, her sundress bunched around her waist and his shorts tangled around his ankles as she rode him to ecstasy.

  Heat burned between Natalie’s legs and she tried to push the memory away, but it clung. He’d gotten her off twice that night before coming himself
. They’d spent the entire day at Summerfest, Milwaukee’s giant music festival. Before they drove back to Chicago, they’d needed each other. In the year they were together, they’d always been like that. They’d been so much more than sex, but there was a lot of sex. A lot of really, really incredible sex.

  Maybe she should go back inside and give Quinn what he wanted. What she wanted too. She’d had good sex since him, but no one quite measured up to him. Their sexual chemistry had been once-in-a-lifetime.

  Natalie unlocked her car and climbed in. Put her keys in the ignition. And sat. And sat some more, not turning on the engine.

  It was probably so good with him because they were young. And in love. She’d been in love with one man since then, but not with the same intensity. Because she’d been older. Nothing had quite the same intensity anymore. That was just maturity.

  Sex with Quinn now was bound to be nothing but disappointment. How could it measure up? They weren’t the same passionate kids they’d been and they weren’t in love. It would likely still be good, but she could find good with other men and not have to deal with all the emotional baggage.

  Yeah, it was better to leave it alone. He was an acquaintance and an ex and a football player on the team she covered. He couldn’t be anything more. Resigned, she twisted her key to start the truck.

  It made a ticking sound, then nothing.

  Shit.

  She pumped the accelerator, then tried again. Nothing. Twisted the key back, then forward again. Still nothing.

  Shit shit shit. Her battery was dead. She was going to have to go back upstairs and find Matt or Celia or someone from the museum to see if she could get a jump. She kept cables in the storage box in the truck bed.

  The sound of footsteps had her heart jumping into her throat. Being stranded alone at night in a parking garage was creepy as fuck.

  Seeing Quinn walking toward her did nothing to calm her racing heart. It simply shifted her fear from one type to another. She didn’t want to ask him, but it was ridiculous to ignore him to go in search of someone else.

  It would only take a few minutes. She didn’t have to jump him just because he lent her some battery power.

  Sighing, she slid out of the car. “Quinn.” She did her best to keep her voice flat and neutral.

  He stopped and turned to her. She was parked in the far corner of the garage, likely casting her in shadows. So she stepped into the aisle so he could see her. Even from a distance, he looked tense. But maybe that was another trick of the shadows.

  “My, uh, my battery’s dead. I’ve got cables, so do you think you could give me a jump?” Too late, she realized the double entendre in her words. The image of him laying her out on the bed of the truck and jumping her flashed in her brain. Her cheeks heated. Thank god he was too far away to see her reaction.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face, ending with it on the back of his head. “Yeah, I guess.” His voice sounded hollow and tired.

  She waited, edgy, as he got in his car and drove over to park next to her. She’d backed into her spot, so he did the same in the empty one next to her. She got her cables from the back and popped her hood. By the time she got back to the front of her car, Quinn was propping up his hood.

  “Thanks. I really appreciate this,” she said, needing to fill the silence that felt heavier than oppressive. Almost unbearably heavy.

  “Sure,” he said tightly.

  He was mad. And she didn’t blame him. She’d jerked him around, letting him think she wanted to hook up too. Because she did.

  But was it really all that different from him making out with her, then suddenly kicking her out? Neither of them knew what they wanted. Or they did, but they couldn’t decide if they were going to go for it.

  She looked over to watch him bend over the innards of his car, clipping the cables to his battery. And she made her decision.

  If he was still game, she was taking Quinn home with her tonight.

  Chapter 14

  She looked up at him through her lashes as he straightened from clamping the jumper cables to his battery. She liked being so tall in relation to him, but she couldn’t deny the four-inch heels took their toll. Her feet were killing her and her calves were starting to protest. She’d be driving home barefoot.

  “Thanks.” She made the word as alluring as she could. It seemed kind of ridiculous to use jumping a car as a seduction technique, but given how much they both loved cars, it fit. Hell, they hadn’t only had sex in Sweetness’s front seat. They’d done it in back, on the hood, on the trunk, up against the passenger door. More than once, she’d blown him while he sat behind the wheel. Never while driving, though. Neither was willing to risk crashing such a beautiful automobile.

  She tried to shake off the memories and focus on clipping the cables to her own battery, but they lingered, playing on a loop in the back of her imagination. Keeping her body and mind on a precipice of desperation.

  Quinn’s body brushed hers and she was startled enough to drop one of the clamps.

  “I got it.” He picked it up and attached it to the battery.

  A silly flash of indignation burst in her chest. “I think I know how to attach jumper cables.”

  He turned to look at her, an expression she couldn’t read on his face. “I know. But you shouldn’t get that pretty dress dirty.”

  She couldn’t help herself. She ran her fingers down his arm, enjoying the feel of his solid muscles under the silkiness of the fabric. “But you can get this shirt dirty?”

  She stopped just above his wrist. His gaze searching her face, he flipped his hand so he could wrap it around her own.

  His other hand came up and brushed hair off her face. Her heart jolted back up to her throat, pounding in triple time. His fingers spread, sliding into her hair and cupping the back of her head.

  “Natalie,” he breathed, his soft voice rough.

  And he kissed her.

  His lips covered hers, his tongue immediately slipping inside to tangle with hers. She wrapped her arm around his back and pulled him closer, their bodies pressed together like they’d been on the dance floor.

  Except dancing hadn’t been like this. She hadn’t felt this needy ache deep inside, this urge to climb his body and claim him. Hadn’t felt dizzy or unsteady or desperate. All of which she felt now.

  She moved her own tongue into his mouth, exploring his taste. It was like the kiss a few weeks ago hadn’t happened, her brain instead tying sense memory to experiences from years ago. He still smelled the same, warm and fresh and inviting, a combination she could never describe as anything but Quinn. If other men could wear the scent as cologne, she’d be attracted to every one of them.

  He groaned into her mouth and somehow the kiss deepened. With small steps, she let him guide her around the side of her truck so he could back her against the passenger door.

  He pressed into her, the ridge of his hard cock against her lower belly. She wanted to rise on tiptoe to get it exactly where she needed but her shoes didn’t allow for it. Instead she rolled her hips, thrusting against him and making a groan catch in the back of his throat.

  “Jesus.” He ripped his mouth away and Natalie could feel him watching her. But she wasn’t ready to open her eyes yet, so she continued rolling her hips. Satisfaction spread through her when he groaned again and began countering her movements with his own.

  “Look at me,” he bit out. She’d never admitted it to him, but she kind of loved when he told her what to do. She didn’t want to try a full-on Dom/sub experience—she’d read enough about it to know it wasn’t for her—but sometimes she wanted to let someone else be in charge.

  Especially when that someone else was Quinn and he was in charge of her sexual pleasure. So she dragged her lids up.

  His eyes were glassy as he stared down at her, his lips wet and swollen. His hair was sti
ll perfectly in place and she needed to change that.

  “I don’t want this.” His voice was rough.

  All the signs were there, the flushed cheeks, heavy breathing, raging erection. But maybe she understood what he was trying to say.

  “I do. But I don’t want to want it.”

  He closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. “Yeah. That. That’s what I mean.”

  Her heart hadn’t stopped pounding since she saw him walking through the garage ten minutes ago. But now the thudding took on a different note. Nerves. “What if for the next twelve hours, we pretend. None of our history exists until ten o’clock tomorrow morning. We’re two people who barely know each other but are desperately attracted to the other.” Why was it so scary to admit she was attracted to him? She’d been rubbing herself against him just a few moments ago.

  Still, as a woman, it was easy sometimes to pretend she didn’t desire a man. He couldn’t hide his erection, but she didn’t have to let him know how damp her panties were. How achingly hard her nipples were or how desperately her clit throbbed.

  He dropped his face to the crook of her neck and nibbled at her skin, sending a shudder down her spine. “Do you still use the same perfume you did back then? Because I swear I could pick you out of a lineup blindfolded.”

  Grinning, she tilted her head so he could better get at the spot he knew she loved having sucked, the tight muscle at the back of her neck where it met her shoulder. “I do. And so do you.” She gasped when his teeth scraped over the spot she loved. “Yes. Do that again.”

  So he did. And again and again and several more times after that until she was writhing and gasping and about to lose her mind from the need to come.

  “Take me home, please. Spend one night with me, destroy me like we used to.” Who the hell cared if she was begging. She was desperate.

  “I will.” He sucked her earlobe into his mouth, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. Another of her favorite moves that had her angling to get his cock to hit her just a little lower. She couldn’t quite get him against her clit and she needed it so badly. “But I have something I need to do first.”