Hart, Catherine

by Impulsive

  Jess nearly choked on her Gatorade. Lordy! Maybe it was just her frame of mind tonight, but she'd never realized before how downright sensual football talk and the terms could be! Why, there were more double meanings, just in this conversation between the announcers, than she could shake a stick at! Great hands, good moves, balls and pumps. And let's not forget "protection" in the "sack," or from it, to be more precise. Still, it was all very provocative when you thought about it in the right light, which she seemed to be doing now. Since meeting Ty. The guy who could shoot a real "zinger," from his pocket, no less!

  Her headphones fuzzed up, and she lost the connection, which she should never have had to start with. Jess's attention, or half of it at least, returned to the field. She'd missed the first handoff, which had gone to Rambo. Apparently, he'd only made three yards or so. Ty called a second audible from the line. Cutter Callahan was stopped for a yard loss on the play. Though the offense was doing its best, the holes simply weren't opening up—oh, heaven's, there was another one of those suggestive phrases!

  Through the static, Jess heard the next play-call through her headset. "Right, thirty-seven, on three."

  She watched as the play evolved. It didn't go as planned. Instead of going right, per the play-call, Ty pulled a fake pump and threw left, hitting Rome wide open at the fifty-yard line. Rome eluded two tacklers and ran the ball in for the touchdown. This time, praise heaven, Alan made his point, and the Knights only trailed by one.

  The remainder of the game was nip and tuck, with neither side scoring. It seemed the Knights were destined to lose another game, again by a single point. Then, miraculously, Dino made a pass interception, running the ball back to the Colts' thirty-four-yard line before being tackled from behind. Three tries, and the Knights could advance the ball only to the twenty-five, three yards short of a first down.

  Like a bad dream repeating itself, it was all up to Alan again. A do-or-die situation. Jess leapt to her feet and rushed to meet him as Alan snapped his helmet strap. "You can do this Alan," she told him. "I know it's a forty-two-yard attempt, but it's a straight shot. Just get your toes under that ball, and give it all you've got." With a pat on the back, she sent him onto the field—and started to pray.

  The coaches, the fans, the players on the sidelines, all seemed to be frozen in place as they watched the team assemble for the kick. Ty, who was sitting out this play, came to stand beside Jess. "Can he do it?"

  "He'd better, if he knows what's good for him," she murmured. "He has the foot for it if he just doesn't hook it."

  Alan's stride was off a bit, but he got the kick off without mishap. The ball sailed through the air, missing the right post by a fraction as it skimmed over the crossbar, the underside brushing the top of it as it passed.

  Jess clamped her hands to her mouth. "Oh, God! He did it!" she screamed over the roar of the crowd. The next she knew, Ty had caught her by the waist, lifting her a good foot and a half off the ground. His dark eyes were shining up at hers, his lips drawn up in a jubilant smile. "Lady, you're beautiful!" he declared, twirling her around in dizzying circles.

  The spinning, the incredible kiss afterward, did not make Jess as giddy as what he'd just told her. With those three precious words, she fell headlong, irretrievably in love with Tyler James.

  CHAPTER 10

  "Dad, you kissed Jess." Josh spoke around the bite he'd just gnawed off his fried chicken leg.

  "Don't talk with your mouth full, rug rat," Ty replied, hoping to steer his son away from the topic.

  It didn't work. Josh swallowed hastily. "But I saw you. You kissed her."

  "Yes, I did."

  "Does that mean you an' Jess like each other?"

  Ty nodded, casting a quick glance at Jess, who looked as if she were sitting on a pile of tacks. "Of course we like each other, don't we, Jess?"

  "Sure."

  "Will you and Jess get me a baby brother?"

  It was hard to choke on mashed potatoes and gravy, but Ty almost did. "Good grief, Josh! What a question!"

  "Well, will you?"

  "I doubt it," Jess told him, coming to Ty's rescue. "You have to put your order in way ahead of time, and baby brothers are in short supply right now. Like when Santa has trouble finding a toy you want for Christmas, and you have to wait until later."

  "Oh." Josh thought a minute, and said, "Order one soon, okay?"

  "Maybe you ought to ask your mom and Dave to do that, instead," Ty suggested.

  Josh scowled. "I did already, a long time ago, but they can't get one. I think their letter got lost in the mail or something.'

  Ty grinned. "Could be, son. Maybe they didn't use the proper postage. Tell them to try again."

  Because they had won their game, the coaches had given the players the next day off, with no practice. As soon as Ty had learned this, he'd asked Jess if she'd mind staying over in Indianapolis another night, so he could see Josh off on his first day of school. Jess could see that it was important to both of them, and since she didn't have anything pressing the next day, she'd agreed.

  As they delivered Josh home that evening, at precisely nine o'clock, the little boy asked for the umpteenth time, "You won't forget to come and see me get on the school bus, will you, Dad?"

  "I'll be here," Ty pledged. "Cross my heart."

  "Jess, too?"

  "Me, too," she promised. "And we'll be here at eleven-thirty, when you get home again."

  After walking Josh to the door and safely inside, Ty said, "Well, the night's young yet. What would you like to do, Jess? How about taking in an act at one of the comedy clubs?"

  "You don't have to entertain me, Ty. After two days with that live-wire son of yours, not to mention a terrifically tough game today, you must be tired. We could go back to the hotel, have a drink in the lounge, and call it a night."

  "Or maybe rent a movie to watch in our room," he suggested. After a slight hesitation, during which Jess said nothing, evidently not having caught his full meaning, he ventured, "I... uh... when I called to have the hotel save our rooms for another night, they'd already rented yours out again. And there wasn't another available. I did check, Jess. Honest, I did."

  Jess stared at him, her jaw slack and her eyes wide. "And you didn't think to tell me this before now?" she questioned skeptically.

  Ty gave what he hoped was an innocent shrug. "It's no big deal, Jess. My room has two beds, and we're both adults. I won't turn into a ravening beast the minute the lights go out."

  "We could just head back to Columbus right now," she told him stiffly, offering an alternative. "We could be home by midnight."

  "You're forgetting our promise to Josh," he reminded her. "I, for one, intend to keep mine."

  Jess sighed. "Okay, okay. But you should have told me right up front."

  "So you could take the bus home with the team? And how would that have looked, when we're supposed to be lovers?"

  "Lovers?" she echoed in a squeaky voice. "Since when did we evolve from 'dating steadily' to being lovers?"

  Again that irritating shrug. "Since tonight, I guess, though everyone probably thinks we've already slept together. After all, we have been seeing each other for a couple of weeks already."

  Jess gave an irate snort. "And you're not usually the type to let any grass grow under your feet, I take it. So what does that make me? Just another notch on your bedpost? One more silver spur on your helmet?"

  "No," he snapped, becoming irritated himself now. "It makes you my woman, at least in the eyes of anyone who cares to notice."

  For several blocks, Jess didn't say a word. Then, suddenly, she commanded, "Pull in there." She indicated a convenience store.

  When he'd parked in front of the store, she got out.

  "What are you doing?" Ty asked. He had some idea she might intend to call a cab to take her to the airport or the bus station.

  She grabbed for her purse. "I like popcorn with my movies," she informed him tartly. "I'm also going to buy a couple of cold cans of
cola and a package of candy bars. There is no way I'm going to buy any of that stuff they sell in that minifridge."

  Ty heaved a silent sigh of relief. She wasn't taking this as well as he'd like, but it sounded as if she was willing to cooperate. At least to a point. "Wait a sec. I'll come with you. If we're going to binge on junk food, I want to choose some of it."

  "Suit yourself."

  Inside, he headed straight for the cold beverages. "Pepsi or Coke?" he asked her.

  "What? No beer?" she jeered.

  "I thought you wanted cola."

  "I do, but I thought all you jocks preferred beer."

  "I drink it occasionally, when I'm out with the guys, but I try to limit my alcoholic intake. And I rarely touch hard liquor anymore. Guess I exceeded my quota when I was going through that bad stretch."

  "The divorce?"

  "That, and nursing a bum leg two years in a row, and losing my son except for weekends, alternate holidays, and a few weeks each summer. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself back then. In fact, I came damned close to becoming an alcoholic."

  "I'm glad you didn't," she said more mildly. "It would have been a shame to throw your life away on booze, not to mention your career or how it might have affected Josh."

  "Josh is the primary reason I pulled myself together," he admitted. "I didn't want to set that kind of example for him to follow."

  By the time they reached their hotel, they had formed a truce, albeit a tentative one. Jess couldn't help feeling apprehensive about spending the night in the same room with Ty. She didn't want to make a fool of herself over him—not that she intended to throw herself at him and beg him to make love to her. Nor did she want to come off as a complete prude. And she had no idea what she would do if Ty made an honest-to-goodness pass at her. Faint dead away from the shock, more than likely. But this buddy-pal roommate business was going to take some fancy footwork, lest she slip up and reveal just how much she was coming to care for him—which would be totally mortifying to both of them, no doubt.

  Upon entering the room, Ty dropped his bags by the door, went directly to the television and flipped it on. Following his example, Jess tossed her purse and overnight bag on the far bed, picked up the movie guide, and began to scan it.

  "See anything interesting?" Ty inquired.

  Yes, you, her subconscious replied silently. Aloud, she said, "Not really." She handed him the guide. "Have a look. Maybe something will appeal to you."

  You appeal to me, he thought to himself. Briefly, he skimmed the listings. "Nope. Nothing here I want to see. Suppose we just channel surf until we hit something interesting?"

  "What about the sports channel? Maybe they're reviewing today's games, and we'll get to see a few highlights of the Knights beating the Colts."

  Ty vetoed that idea. "I don't usually watch those until later in the week. Coach will run a tape of the game Tuesday, before practice, and point out all our flaws then, which is soon enough. Why ruin a perfectly good victory by watching reruns of all the mistakes you made along the way, not to mention the commentator's comments, which aren't all that complimentary at times."

  "Well, those two announcers in the TV booth seemed to think you were pretty terrific," Jess informed him.

  Mistaking her meaning, Ty glanced quizzically at the television, currently set on the weather channel, then back at Jess. "What are you talking about? What announcers?"

  "The ones covering today's game. At the stadium, Ty."

  He gave a shake of his head. "I'm still confused. When did you talk to them?"

  "I didn't. I heard them discussing you over my headset."

  He stared at her, confounded. "You couldn't have. Those things are locked onto a preset frequency, so transmissions can't be picked up by anyone but your own coaches and team."

  "Maybe they're supposed to be, but mine must have gotten a short in it or something, because I could hear those two discussing you as plainly as I hear you now."

  "Do tell. And what did you overhear?"

  She grinned. "I shouldn't tell you. You might get a swelled head." Darn! There was one of those double entendre phrases again! She simply had to stop this! She'd never before had such trouble keeping her mind out of the gutter.

  Ty's initial thought was, I'll probably get a swelled head anyway before the night is over, and not the one above my shoulders.

  "They said you had great hands, good moves, and that you don't fumble very often," she related, managing to keep her tone as flat as if she were reading from a textbook. "But they also said you've got to avoid the sack and have better protection."

  Ty drew in a deep breath, an unsuccessful attempt to tamp down his rising libido. "Did they, now? Well, I have to agree to some extent. Good protection is a must. But eluding the rush isn't always possible, is it, Jess?" He took a deliberate step toward her, his sharp, searching gaze boring into hers. "Like now, for instance. I'm getting quite a rush—from you and all the subtle signals you seem to be sending my way."

  Jess gulped and stepped backward. "I get the feeling you throw a smooth pass, on or off the gridiron, but I'm not much for playing 'bump and run,' Ty."

  "Me, either. I like to retain possession as long as possible," he told her, matching her quip for quip. He took another stride forward, and she backed up again. "The truth, Jess. Since we met, haven't you wondered what it would be like to get a quarterback—this quarterback—in the sack?"

  "Talk about an enormous ego!"

  Ty gave an indifferent shrug while his words and dark eyes continued issuing the challenge. "Don't back down now, sugar, just when the game is starting to get interesting. What say we huddle, cuddle, and see what kind of action develops?"

  One last step, and he'd backed her to the edge of the mattress. Jess lost her balance. As she fell, she reached out, grabbing for something to hold her upright. Her hands caught at Ty's shirt, and she wound up dragging him down on top of her.

  "Nice tackle," he said with a chuckle. "A bit unorthodox, but it felled me nonetheless."

  Before she could catch her breath, his mouth, so warm and enticing, shrouded hers in a long, blistering kiss. His lips feasted on hers. Her tongue darted out to meet his. The heat between them built, fueling itself on their mutual desire.

  "I want you," Ty murmured, peeling his lips from hers to pepper kisses across her face. When he reached her ear, his teeth nipped at her lobe, eliciting a quiver that shook Jess to her core. "Tell me you want me, Jess. Please say you do."

  "I... I want you," she murmured, barely able to speak past the lump of longing lodged in her throat. "I want you so badly, Ty."

  He sighed, as if he'd feared she would reject him, though Jess couldn't see how any woman could withstand this man's advances. Not for long. Not when he could swamp her senses with just one kiss, one caress, one look from those compelling eyes.

  "Oh, babe," he whispered. "I'm going to love you like nobody has ever loved you before."

  Jess had no doubt that he would, physically, at least. She had the distinct feeling that until now she'd been dealing with amateurs, on more than one level. Now she was playing with a pro, and way out of her league. But she was going to give it her best shot, because it could be the only one she ever got.

  He was caressing her now, his hand skimming the length of her body, creating shock waves in its wake. Her lips trembled beneath his. Jess's hands rose of their own volition, her fingers fumbling blindly with the buttons of his shirt. When at last her fingers tunneled into the mat of golden brown hair to knead at his chest, Ty's groan was akin to the rumbling purr of some great jungle cat. He aided her quest, shrugging quickly out of his shirt and tossing it onto the floor, his lips never breaking contact with hers.

  Given free rein, her hands roamed at will, exploring the width and breadth of him, delighting in the texture, the warmth of his skin, the muscles rippling just beneath the surface.

  His lips deserted hers as he swiftly tugged her top over her head. Before she could cover herself, his lips
were tracing the lace trim of her bra, his tongue lapping at the exposed flesh along the inner edges. His hands caught hers, bringing her arms in close to her sides, and her hands back to his chest. "Yes," he murmured. "Touch me. Let me touch you."

  With passion-glazed eyes, Jess watched his lips sip at her skin. His tongue explored the valley between her breasts, then swept up the slight slopes to seek out the peaks, first one and then the other. As if by his command, they leapt to alert attention. She clutched at his shoulders as an intense ache raced through her.

  With deft fingers, he unhooked the latch of her bra and swept it aside. He palmed a breast in each hand, his long fingers surrounding each in a tender embrace. His thumbs reached out to caress the rosy centers, his eyes darkening as he watched the nipples pucker even tighter.

  "They're like the most delicate of rosebuds," he breathed, as if in awe of the treasure he'd uncovered. "So pink and pretty and dainty."

  His head lowered, his hair tickling her breast as his lips sought out the rigid crest. His tongue swirled around it, over it, dampening it. His breath cooled it even more. Then, as if to heat it again, he drew it into his mouth, suckling gently at first, then stronger.

  With every tug on her breast, the sweet ache built within her. Growing. Expanding. A yearning that curled low in her stomach and spiraled outward, until it engulfed her whole body. When he released his hold, she grabbed his head, trying to force it back to her once more.

  She heard him chuckle. "Like that, do you?"

  All she could do was plead. "Please."

  "Oh, I intend to, darling. I'm going to please you like you've never been pleased."

  His lips clamped down on her other nipple, sucking with such force that a good portion of her breast was pulled into his hot, damp mouth. Jess gasped, her back arching nearly off the bed as a lightning bolt of desire shot through her. Fire sped through her veins, searing her from head to toe.

  He had her shoes off, and her slacks undone and sliding down her legs before she was aware that he'd moved. His mouth left her breast, blazing a trail of flame across her bare stomach. His hand slipped between her legs, nudging them apart. His fingers found her through the sleek satin of her panties. Rubbing. Teasing. Then his mouth was there, scalding her through the thin cloth.