Home Field Advantage

by Liz Lincoln

  His hand abandoned her breast, trailing up to hold her cheek as he leaned into their kiss. Just as his tongue slid into her mouth, his cock slid into her pussy, slow and lazy. Perfect for morning. She exhaled into his mouth as her body clenched around him, welcoming him into her again.

  Would she ever really let him out of her? The thought drew a whimper from her, one she couldn’t have stopped if she tried. Fortunately he seemed to mistake it for a whimper of frustration and shifted the angle of his hips.

  The tip of his cock caught her in just the right place inside and she whimpered again, this time in pleasure. He continued to kiss her as his hips moved against her, his tongue mimicking them.

  It was almost like they were making love.

  She couldn’t breathe. She needed air. She needed space. She needed—

  “Fuck me. Hard.” She scooted away and rolled to her back, holding out her arms to him.

  He stared at her for a stunned second, then her request seemed to register. A devilish smile spread over his face and he crawled between her legs. “Gladly.”

  He hoisted her calves onto his shoulders and slid inside her again. And proceeded to fuck her to the best orgasm he’d given her yet.

  And if her chest felt tight as she came back to herself, if there was a lingering sense of unfulfillment, it was only because it had been so good. And she didn’t want it to end. But they said only one night.

  So that was that.

  Chapter 17

  By all rights, Quinn should have spent his day off glowing with satisfaction. He was sore in a way totally different from how he felt after a game, sore in places he hadn’t been in years. Four mind-blowing orgasms should never ever leave a man restless and wanting.

  Yet here he was watching the late afternoon sun sink away through Meg’s office window, and all he really wanted was to go back to Natalie’s and take her back to bed. But he couldn’t. They’d said only one night. For closure.

  He felt anything but fulfilled. Instead of finally closing the door on their past, their night together left him wanting to open a new door. He didn’t want a relationship—they couldn’t go there again—but he wanted her. Sex.

  But she’d given no indication that was an option. So he was left feeling antsy. Prickles of unease dancing through him, making him crave things he could no longer have. Booze made it so much easier to shut everything down.

  Thank god he had therapy on Tuesdays. His one day off each week didn’t give him a physical outlet, so he needed the mental one.

  After they were done with pleasantries and checking in, Meg settled her notebook on her lap and smiled at him. “Anything in particular on your mind today?”

  As awkward as it felt to talk to someone his parents’ age about sex, he knew he needed to suck it up and tell her about last night. He’d mostly gotten over the discomfort he used to experience talking about his deepest feelings. Meg was good at her job and made it easy to spill his guts. It was her job, of course, but she made it feel like she was a trusted friend.

  And he’d definitely talked about Natalie. It was hard to leave her role in his life out. So, fuck it, he had to tell Meg.

  “I had a charity benefit last night. For Matt’s foundation. Natalie was there, covering it.”

  “And how did that go?”

  Quinn shifted in his chair. “We, uh, we danced. Then we made out in the parking garage.” Made out was a bit of an understatement, but Meg didn’t need the details. “We agreed maybe we needed one more night together, for some sort of closure. So I went to her house and spent the night.” He couldn’t make himself say the exact words. They got clogged in his throat.

  Meg smoothed a strand of white hair back. “Did you have sex?”

  Quinn exhaled deeply, relieved she’d said that word for him. It wasn’t like him to be this squeamish, but something about Natalie was different. Almost like it was a betrayal of their intimacy. Except there was no intimacy.

  “Three times.” Plus that exchange of oral sex in the middle of the night. Fuck, that had been so hot. She’d been good at blow jobs back in college, but holy hell, she’d improved a lot over the years. It had taken him all of two minutes to come.

  “And do you think you found closure?”

  Of course she hit right at the heart of things. That was her job. But he didn’t know how to answer. “I don’t know. I mean, what choice do I have? We said one night.”

  “Are you falling for her again?”

  The ache in his chest felt suspiciously like the answer was yes. Because as much as he longed to get naked with Natalie again, he also just wanted to hang out with her. They’d been friends for more than two years before they got together. And as many close friends as he’d had over the years, pretty much all of them teammates, he’d never had anyone where he felt like he could be 100 percent himself.

  Of course, he’d been well on his way toward alcoholism by the time they dated, so he hadn’t been the same self as he was now. Which fundamentally changed the dynamic of any friendship he had.

  Still, something about last night had felt like old times. Something had opened inside him, something he hadn’t realized had closed off.

  “I’m not falling for her. It’s more complicated than that.” That was as close to an honest answer as he could come up with.

  “Are you starting to forgive her?” Meg’s voice was steady, holding no judgment. No indication which way she thought he should answer.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Hmmm.” She sat back in her chair and tapped her pen against her lips. Silence stretched between them as the therapist looked contemplative and Quinn waited for her next question.

  He had a million words dancing around his head, thoughts shooting out rapid-fire. But he couldn’t organize them, so he remained silent.

  “Do you want to keep having sex with her?”

  “Yes.” That one was easy to answer. Who wouldn’t want a repeat of the single best sexual night of his life? He was not admitting that to Meg. Or Natalie.

  “Does she?”

  “I don’t know. We agreed to one night, so we didn’t talk about it this morning.” After they’d finished their intense morning fuck, he’d needed space. It had both blown his mind and rocked his core. So he’d dressed quickly and gone home to shower and change.

  “What’s the worst that could happen if you told her you’d like more?”

  He scrubbed his hands over his face. She could break his heart again.

  Except she couldn’t. His heart wasn’t involved this time. Just his dick. “She says no.”

  “And then what happens?”

  “We go back to not talking unless we have to. We keep resenting each other.”

  Meg tilted her head and studied him, like she didn’t quite like that answer. “And what happens if you don’t talk to her about it?”

  “We go back to not talking and resenting each other.”

  “And what happens if you tell her you’d like more and she agrees?”

  “We probably still resent each other but maybe we eventually get closure and we definitely get great sex.” He swallowed back the discomfort of saying those last two words.

  “And you would enjoy that?”

  “Of course.”

  “And do you think, because it’s always a concern, that her rejecting you, either now or down the line, has the potential to make you start abusing alcohol or drugs again?”

  “No.” Maybe his certainty was naivete. But he’d been tested plenty of times in the past almost-two years. And even when the cravings were at their strongest, his willpower proved stronger.

  “I think you’re right. I think you’re very committed to your sobriety. But I also want to make sure you know it’s a possibility. And if you do decide to move forward with her, we should talk about putting safeguards in p
lace.” Meg’s face was stern, but still kind. Like she cared. An expression he’d never seen from either of his parents.

  Another silence settled between them, letting Quinn’s mind drift to thoughts of his parents. Always unwelcome thoughts.

  “Let me ask you something a little different.”

  Thank god she interrupted. If he ever fell off the wagon, it wouldn’t be over a woman. It would be to drown out memories of his mother’s smothering pity and his dad’s mean disapproval. “OK,” he said to Meg.

  “Do you deserve things that you enjoy? That make you happy?”

  “Of course I do.” What an odd question. Everyone deserved that.

  “You obviously enjoy sex, yet this is the first time you’ve had it in over two years. Is there a reason why?”

  “I was focused on recovery.”

  “That’s important. But now that you’re this far along, do you on some level believe you don’t deserve mutually beneficial sexual pleasure?” Meg watched him with her steady brown-eyed gaze.

  It was a little uncomfortable to have someone ask if he deserved sexual pleasure, then stare at him. Then again, the goal of therapy wasn’t to put him at ease. It was all about digging deep into the uncomfortable. “I guess I haven’t really thought about it.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  “I do think I deserve good things,” he added quickly.

  “Good. Because you do.” She gave him a gentle smile.

  It was nice to know that even if they weren’t really friends, because of course she was his therapist, she did seem to like him. His parents had sent him to a therapist back in high school, who’d held obvious disdain for Quinn. Unsurprisingly, it hadn’t helped him much.

  Ironically, they’d sent him because they thought he was drinking. It wasn’t until he refused to go to that therapist anymore and his dad had yelled at him and his mom given him an exasperated lecture on how disappointed she was and why couldn’t he behave like her best friend’s perfect son that Quinn got drunk for the first time. Until that point, in tenth grade, he’d begged off the alcohol that flowed freely at parties. Yet another success story in the Lowry family.

  “I wouldn’t have gone back to football if I didn’t think I deserve good things.” Did he sound defensive? He felt defensive.

  “Of course. And do you think perhaps that’s why you let yourself set aside your anger at Natalie for one night?”

  Quinn smiled faintly. Meg had a habit of asking him questions as a way of telling him what she thought. His therapist in Colorado had been more direct, simply telling Quinn what she wanted him to know. Quinn appreciated Meg’s approach, because it gave him room to disagree or see things a different way.

  “Probably.”

  Another silence. Meg seemed to be reading the notes she had written on her pad, and since Quinn didn’t know what to say next, he remained silent. Should he ask Meg what to do? Ask her if she thought it was a fool’s errand to talk to Natalie and tell her he wanted…something with her. Not a relationship. Just more sex.

  Basically, he wanted the once love of his life to now be his booty call. Yeah, like Natalie would agree to that.

  “I know I usually try to get you to draw your own conclusions. But right now, you seem like you’re looking for some guidance, like you might like advice on what to do. Am I right?” She gave him another of her gentle smiles.

  “Yeah,” he said, exhaling in relief. “I spent the entire morning going in circles in my head. Talking myself into and out of a dozen different scenarios.”

  “You need something in your life that isn’t football. And I’m not talking long term, like you need to be dating or looking for a wife and starting a family. I’m talking about right now. I know during the season there isn’t room for much else, and you do work on cars. But that’s partly what makes Natalie an even better option for you. She’s part of that football world, but also apart from it.” She paused, letting Quinn take in her words. “So I think this would be a very beneficial thing for you. Healthy.”

  Quinn frowned at her. “Sorry, I’m not completely following. What would be beneficial?”

  “You mean you couldn’t follow my train of thought. It made perfect sense in my head.” Meg chuckled. “I think you should talk to her, let her know that you enjoyed last night and that you would like to continue seeing her. See if she’s interested in anything like that, and if so, the two of you set up parameters for what your relationship looks like.”

  “I’m not looking for a relationship,” Quinn said quickly. Even if he were, it wouldn’t be with Natalie.

  “Right. By relationship, I meant whatever sort of arrangement the two of you come to. Whether it’s sex only, on a regular schedule, when one of you feels like it, something like that.”

  Definitely an awkward conversation he was having. His therapist was selling him to set up a booty call. To make Natalie his sex buddy.

  And it was exactly what he wanted.

  “This is, of course, provided she agrees to this. She may not want anything else. So only do this if you’re going to be okay with that outcome. But as we discussed, the worst that happens is she tells you no.” Meg set aside her notebook and pen and scooted to the edge of her chair. “I have other clients until six o’clock, but after that you’re welcome to call my cellphone if you need to talk.”

  Quinn scrubbed his hand over his cheek, a day and a half’s worth of stubble scratching his palm. He hadn’t taken time to shave before therapy. “Yeah, OK. I can do this.” He just had to figure out what to say to her. He’d never been one for rehearsing his words in advance so he’d say whatever came out when he got to her place. Probably not the smartest strategy, but it was the one he would take.

  Meg stood and walked toward the door. “Then, you have a good week. Go Dragons. And you call me of course if you need anything.”

  Quinn returned her smile. “See you next week.”

  He headed out of the building and into the chill. Days like today, with the icy wind coming off Lake Michigan, he sort of wished he could be back in Las Vegas. But the hundred-plus-degree heat during training camp was a trade-off he didn’t relish.

  Plus, the environment with that team had been so different from the Dragons’. The Scorpions had been all about being tough and manly and kicking ass. While the Dragons of course wanted the players to be tough and win games, there was a much heavier focus on teamwork and community and support. It was the perfect place for him.

  A cold drop of rain hit his nose and he scowled as he unlocked his car. Perfect in most ways.

  After sliding into his car, Quinn leaned his head back and tried to think of what he could possibly say to convince Natalie to keep sleeping with him. As he pulled out of his parking spot, ideas flew around his brain. For now, he let them tumble and sift. He had some things to do before he could go to her house anyway. Hopefully by then, the best idea would shove itself to the forefront.

  * * *

  —

  Natalie’s phone chimed with a text as she stared into her refrigerator, trying to figure out what the hell she was going to make for dinner. It was Tuesday, so naturally she wanted tacos. But the only ingredient she had for tacos was sour cream. Because she didn’t have to go to the stadium on Tuesdays, she usually wore lounge pants and old T-shirts and didn’t leave the house, and she’d be damned if she was making an exception tonight.

  It was a damn shame, because tacos seemed like the perfect food to accompany post-good-sex afterglow.

  She shut the refrigerator and checked her phone. Maybe her text was Annie saying her meeting was canceled and she was bringing home tacos. Or at least pizza. Hell, Natalie would settle for just about anything Annie would bring home. Because at this point, Natalie was in for a cereal-and-toast dinner. Which was not only uninspiring, but the same thing she had had for lunch. For breakfast, she branched out an
d had yogurt with her coffee.

  Annie: wait, you did WHAT last night????????

  Clearly she’d just gotten Natalie’s text from earlier in the day saying they needed to talk, but the short version of her story was, Quinn had spent the night.

  Natalie: I’m not texting you the whole thing. We can talk tomorrow. You bring pizza, I’ll bring wine.

  Annie: you’re bringing pizza AND wine for making me wait.

  Natalie: not my fault you have Common Council tonight.

  Annie: stupid citizens…

  Natalie laughed as her doorbell rang. Did she order takeout and not remember? No, she hadn’t gotten that scatterbrained yet. She typed a quick reply on her phone as she walked to the front door.

  Natalie: that’ll make a great quote for your next campaign ad. :-)

  At the front door, Natalie checked the peephole. And found herself getting a warped, extreme close-up of Quinn’s eyes.

  What was he doing here?

  Heart suddenly beating too quickly, memories of the previous night flooding her system, she pulled open the door. “What are you doing here?”

  With his heart-stopping, panty-melting half smile, he held up a paper bag emblazoned with the logo from her favorite Mexican place. “Taco Tuesday.”

  She might have to convince him to renegotiate their arrangement into a two-night deal. Because she was so damn grateful for those tacos, she was willing to fuck him as a thank-you.

  OK, she also just wanted to fuck him because last night had been the single best sexual experience of her life. And all her runner-up sexual experiences had also been with Quinn. He was just really really good at sex. Or maybe it was that they were really good at it together. It was splitting hairs she didn’t really care about.

  Still, before she was letting him into her house, she had to ask, “What are you doing here?”

  He scratched the back of his neck, his dead-giveaway nervous gesture. “I thought maybe we should talk,” he said with a sheepish half smile. “And I figured bribery couldn’t hurt.”