“My dad put me on peewee teams, junior leagues. I was almost six-foot by the time I was thirteen, so when I hit high school I was playing on varsity,” he explained, staring at his hands. He spread his fingers wide. “I could always throw far, even when I was little.”
Her gaze dropped to those million-dollar hands. They were huge. Wide palms, long fingers. She had the sudden urge to touch them. At the very least, feel them on her skin. “Natural-born talent as well, then?”
“Sure.” He shrugged modestly. “Though I worked hard to get where I’m at. I’m sure you did, too.”
“I did.” She liked that he understood everything wasn’t just handed to her. Not that she’d been handed a gold mine, what with the expenses she had to keep up with to maintain the studio. But her mom certainly thought she’d been spoiled. Louisa Harper had always been jealous of Sheridan’s relationship with her grandmother. Whereas her mom had been the wild child who never wanted to listen to her parents, Sheridan had worshipped the ground her grandma walked on.
And her dad had never been in the picture, that was for sure. When it came to the women in the Harper family, men just didn’t stick.
The waitress appeared with their drinks. “Need anything else? Appetizers, maybe another beer just in case?” she asked, looking as if she wanted to linger.
Jared reached behind him, pulling out a slender black leather wallet and withdrawing a crisp one hundred dollar bill. “I’ll tip you now if you make sure no one disturbs us the rest of the night.”
The woman’s eyes widened and she snatched the money from Jared’s fingers. “Will do. Have a good night,” she said before she scurried away.
Sheridan gaped at him. “Did you just pay her off?”
Drinking his beer, he shrugged. “It worked, right?”
“Yeah, but…” She clamped her lips shut when one of those million dollar hands settled over hers. The warmth of his touch sent a scattering of tingles across her skin, and her breath lodged in her throat when his thumb skimmed across the top of her hand.
“I don’t want anyone bothering us,” he said, his voice low. “I’m trying to get to know you better without a bunch of interruptions.”
“Don’t like the waitress staring at you like you’re a god?” She was incredibly conscious of his hand still on hers, the way he slowly stroked her with his thumb, like he was trying to hypnotize her.
It worked.
He smirked, the sight of it sending a zing straight to all of her feminine parts. “I’d rather you stare at me like I’m a god.”
…
Just one glass of wine in and Sheridan was a giggly, far-too-easygoing female with a come-hither smile and bedroom eyes. Extra flirty, with how she occasionally flipped her hair over her shoulder, exposing her neck, which he wanted to kiss. Lick. How she constantly touched his arm, her delicate fingers dancing on his skin, driving him wild, making his blood heat.
They’d talked. They’d flirted. She was enthusiastic about her art but worried at the same time. He could tell, but he also already knew from what Harvey had told him earlier. She didn’t outright say she was broke but she hinted at it. Sounded like she didn’t have the best time growing up, either, with a neglectful mom and absent father.
Jared could relate.
They’d played true confessions. He confessed he didn’t remember his mom and his dad had worked a lot. How sometimes he wondered if his life would’ve turned out differently if he had his mother around. Crazy, how Sheridan had said the exact same thing about her father.
He liked her. She had a sexy laugh, flashing golden brown eyes and hair he wanted to bury his hands in.
More than anything, he flat-out wanted her. Wanted to take her somewhere, anywhere, and just…be with her. Alone. Kiss her, touch her, strip her naked, search her soft skin with his hands and lips…
“Should I have another glass of wine? Probably not, huh.” She leaned into him, her mouth close to his ear, her breasts nestled against his side, and he closed his eyes for the briefest moment. Fought the urge to haul her into him and crush her mouth with his.
“I’m positive you’ve had enough.” His voice was strained, as was the front of his jeans. He looked at her, the scent of her wrapped around him, fragrant and sweet, and he breathed deep, savoring it.
She nodded, her gaze dropping to his mouth. Looking at him like she wanted to kiss him. “I should probably go.”
He glanced at his watch. It was past eleven. They’d talked for two hours and it felt like fifteen minutes. “Want me to take you back to your car?” She’d admitted she walked over from the convention center, which he didn’t like one bit. It was dark, late, and not the best part of town. He could’ve given her a ride but she’d blown him off earlier, claiming she had to gather up all her supplies and load them in her car first.
But now he was thankful for the chance. This way, he got to spend more time with her.
If this were any other woman, he would’ve had her understanding exactly what he wanted from her by now. He was a straight shooter, always had been. Since the scandal broke out, though, he was trying to be more cautious. Smarter. Most women were trouble. At least, the ones he encountered were.
Something about this particular woman made him want to throw caution right out the window.
“That would be great,” she said, her voice soft, her eyes glowing.
With a quickness he usually saved for the field, he slid out of the booth, grabbed Sheridan’s hand, and hurried her out of the dingy bar. The cool air relieved his heated skin as they emerged, and he turned to steer her toward his shiny black SUV parked in the bar’s small lot. She stumbled on her feet, those damn sexy pink shoes most likely too high, and he gripped her arm, making sure she didn’t fall.
“Thanks.” She offered him a sultry smile, leaning into him a little bit. “Too much alcohol and these shoes don’t mix.”
He slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. “I think the shoes are hot.” They were. Almost as hot as the woman wearing them.
She stared up at him, her hands settling on his chest, her mouth dropping open when she slowly ran her fingers down his front. “You are so…hard.”
Okay, that did it. Sliding his hand over the dip of her waist, the flare of her hip, he murmured, “And you are so…soft.”
“Damn it!”
The shrill curse caused them to spring away from each other. Jared turned to find a woman standing in the farthest corner of the bar’s parking lot, kicking at her car’s flat tire. The look of distress on her face, even at that distance, was unmistakable.
“I should help her,” he muttered, glancing at Sheridan, who nodded solemnly in answer. Jared raised his voice. “Hey, you all right?”
The woman glanced up and shook her head. “Flat tire.”
Grabbing Sheridan’s hand, he approached the woman’s car. Her eyes went wide when she looked at him. “Got a spare in the trunk?” he asked.
The woman shrugged, looking a little star struck. “You’re that football player, right? You grew up in Monterey.”
“Yep.” He pointed at her trunk. “Why don’t you pop it and let me see what you have in there.”
Luckily enough, the woman, Linda, did have a full-sized tire in the trunk and a jack. And boy, Linda knew how to talk. She chattered the entire time he changed her tire, marveling over the famous football player helping her. Claiming none of her friends would believe this story.
He couldn’t leave a woman stranded in the middle of a parking lot late at night, but damn, this was a total mood killer. For all he knew, Sheridan would bail the minute Linda drove away.
And he really, really didn’t want Sheridan to bail.
“You are the best,” Linda said when he finished. “Like a true hero.”
He shrugged, slamming the trunk closed. “It’s no big deal.”
“Ha! It’s a huge deal.” Linda paused, her gaze going from Jared to Sheridan. “Do you mind taking a picture of us? So I can prove to my
friends this really happened?”
Jared slipped his arm around Linda’s shoulders and they posed for a few pictures, Linda giving him a big hug before she slipped into her car and fired up the engine.
“You got a keeper right there, honey,” Linda called as she rolled down the window. “Thanks again!” They watched her drive out of the parking lot, looking at each other when she was gone for a long, silent moment.
Sheridan cracked first, the giggle making her slap her hand over her mouth.
Shaking his head, he chuckled. “Well, that was kind of crazy.”
“You were very sweet, helping out.”
“No way I could leave her.” He held his hands out in front of them. They were dirty, damn it. Not like Sheridan would want him to touch her now.
This night had gone completely south.
“Let’s go get your car then.” He started toward his SUV, surprised when Sheridan grabbed his hand and stopped him. “What’s wrong?”
“I was sort of hoping we could continue where we left off.” A shuddering breath escaped her. Her lids lowered, her gaze locked on his mouth.
Things were once again looking up. Tugging on her hand, he pulled her closer. “Really?”
She nodded. “I was hoping you would kiss me. Before we were so unexpectedly interrupted.”
“I’m all dirty,” he started but she squeezed his hand, stepping toward him, bringing herself within kissing distance.
“I don’t really care,” she whispered. “I’ve wanted you to kiss me all night.”
That was all the incentive he needed. Gathering her close, he captured her mouth with his, the moment their lips touched setting off a spark of electricity and his heart kicked into a thunderous gallop. A breeze blew over them, sending strands of her hair across his face and he pushed them away, drinking from her mouth.
A little moan escaped her when she opened to him. He delved his tongue into the sweetness of her mouth, stroking against hers, slow and easy. She broke the kiss first, her wide-eyed gaze meeting his, their chests brushing against each other with their accelerated breaths.
“Wow,” she whispered and he chuckled, smoothing his thumb across her cheek. “Maybe we should take this someplace else.”
He could bring her to his place but it was so far…and he didn’t want to wait. “You live nearby?”
“In Seaside.” That was at least a fifteen-minute drive. And he didn’t think he could wait another fifteen minutes.
Glancing up, he saw the row of older motels across the street, their neon-lit signs flashing in the darkness. Every single one of them read “Vacancy.” Every one of them fueled his brain into overdrive.
Damn. He wanted to suggest it but didn’t want to offend her. This was so not his usual style, making out with a woman in a parking lot, dragging her to a cheap motel where he could fuck her all night long.
But Sheridan wasn’t his usual type of woman. She was sweet, soft, real.
“How about we find a motel room and get naked,” she suggested, like she said that sort of thing every day. His gaze cut to hers and she winced. “I sound like a total slut, huh? I take it back. We shouldn’t get a motel room. That’s so sleazy.”
The fact that she made the suggestion first was almost a relief. “I think it’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long time,” he said, his voice low. Yeah. More like the best idea ever.
A smile lit up her entire face as she stepped out of his embrace. “Let’s go then, superstar.”
He cocked a brow as he took her hand and headed toward the sidewalk. “Superstar?”
“Well, you are one, aren’t you? Super Bowl winner. Flat tire-changer. Sexy quarterback who parades around in his underwear for all the world to see.”
Laughing, he glanced both ways before they darted across the street. She could move pretty fast in those heels when she wanted to. “I take it you’ve seen the underwear ads, then.”
“What woman hasn’t?” The purely feminine sigh that came from her made him want to puff up his chest with pride. “Am I dreaming? Seriously. I think I might be lying in my own bed right now, dreaming that I’m about to sneak into a crappy motel and have hot and sweaty sex with Jared Quinn all night long.”
The image her words conjured up had him anxious to show her exactly that. “You are not dreaming,” he murmured as he slung his arm around her shoulders and drew her into him. “You are definitely about to sneak into a crappy motel and have hot, sweaty sex with me all night long.”
She stopped in front of the motel’s office, grabbing hold of his shirt as if she needed the support to stand. “One night,” she whispered. “No strings. Just…fun.”
He smiled. Traced her lower lip with his finger. He couldn’t have found a more perfect woman if he’d tried. “Agreed.”
Chapter Three
The second they entered the tiny motel room, Jared had Sheridan in his arms. She melted into him, her face turned up, her eyes closed. A soft sigh escaped her when he kissed her, deep and wet, their tongues tangling. He cupped the back of her head, his fingers tightening in her hair, holding her still. Savoring her taste, and the sensation of her sweet, sexy body wrapped around his.
He still couldn’t believe he brought her to a motel. No one would doubt his intent and he was taking a huge risk doing it. The paparazzi followed him everywhere. But he flat-out couldn’t resist her, and he’d never had that happen before.
Walking her backward in the tiny room, her legs hit the side of the mattress in seconds. As he leaned into her, she fell onto the bed, sitting on the edge. She tilted her head back, those pretty, light brown eyes locked on his face before they drifted down the length of him, settling surprisingly on his crotch.
She licked her lips, her obviously assessing gaze making him groan, and he unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it onto the ground.
Her eyes lit up, her lush mouth curving into an alluring smile. “Holy God, you have a six-pack. Are you even real?”
“I work out every day of my damn life.” He chuckled, not quite sure what else to say.
“I’m sure you do.” Reaching up, she caressed his stomach with the lightest of touches, his muscles flinching beneath her fingers. Damn, her touch felt good. She sighed, the sound so full of longing, it went straight to his dick. “God, you are so big.”
“And you are so beautiful.” Stepping closer, he bent over her, curving his hand around her cheek. Tension clutched at him, settling low in his gut at what they were about to do. Why did it feel so momentous? “Lay back, Sheridan.”
She did as he asked, scooting up the bed so her head was propped on the flat pillows. He crawled onto the mattress, hovering above her, his knees on either side of her hips, his hands pressed into the mattress above her head. She watched him the entire time, her gaze full of smoldering heat.
Leaning in, he then pressed a lingering kiss to her temple and blazed a path with his mouth down her cheek, along her neck. She tilted her head back on a whimper and closed her eyes, her easy surrender pleasing him.
“Oh, God.” Her voice trembled as he slid down and pushed her shirt up, revealing her gently curving stomach, her simple black lace bra. Her breasts were plump, her nipples poking against the delicate lace fabric, taunting him. Unable to resist, he brushed his thumbs across the tiny peaks and she jumped.
“Sensitive?” He looked up at her, enjoying the hazy, dreamy look in her eyes, the way she trembled beneath him.
She nodded and he dipped his head, cupping her breasts as he licked the edge of her bra, tracing a path across her chest. A moan escaped her, low and throaty, and he swiped his tongue across one lacy-covered nipple, then the other. She arched into his touch, her head thrown back, eyes closed, the look of ecstasy on her face unmistakable.
“Let’s take this off.” He helped her remove her shirt, adjusting so they lay chest to chest, hip to hip, their legs entangled. She gazed up at him in wonder, her eyes lingering hungrily on his lips and he gave her what she wanted.
Taking her
mouth, he impatiently devoured her, sending the kiss into deep and hot territory in an instant. He ran his free hand up and down her body, then slipped it around to her back, quickly undoing the clasp of her bra and disentangling it from her so he could fling it onto the floor.
Jared gazed upon the bounty he uncovered, drinking in her lush curves. Her breasts were full, her nipples a dark, rosy pink. She offered him a trembling smile that, for whatever crazy reason, touched his notoriously untouchable heart. He moved down, brushing a kiss over her quivering stomach, curling his fingers into the waistband of her black skirt.
She lifted her hips, a silent encouragement, and he slipped the skirt off her, a hot surge of lust rushing through his veins when he saw her lacy black panties. “Let’s keep the shoes on,” he murmured, smiling when he heard her soft laughter.
He returned his attention to her breasts, her body undulating beneath his as he slowly circled each nipple with his tongue before he drew first one, then the other deep into his mouth, sucking her, driving her wild.
“Jared.” She whispered his name, a little gasp escaping her when he bit down on her distended flesh.
“So soft,” he murmured against her skin when he released a nipple from his lips. “So sweet.”
Sheridan slid her fingers into his hair, caressing his head, her touch gentle, fueling his want for her. Moving up, he fused his mouth with hers yet again, drunk on her taste, intoxicated with the sensation of her almost naked body rubbing against his. He reached between them and cupped her, the heat emanating from her sex making him ache.
“That feels so good.” She panted against his mouth, whimpering when he pressed his fingers harder. She was soaked, primed, and ready for him, and he caressed her, rubbing against her panties.
He slipped his fingers beneath the thin fabric, stroking her directly, then sinking them into that damp, hot flesh. “I wanna see you come,” he whispered.
Game for Marriage Page 3