Out of Bounds

by Lauren Blakely

  I tilt my head to the side, trying to make sense of what he’s saying. And to make sure he’s not suggesting some sort of publicity stunt. Carefully, keeping my tone neutral, I ask, “What do you mean, Stuart?”

  “Just that . . . well, let me be blunt.” He clasps his hands together. “With all the shit some of the bad seeds put us through last year, this potential love affair was looking to be a bright spot—the quarterback playing Skee-Ball with kids, and then with the woman he likes at a charity function,” he says, leaning back in his chair and chuckling, like this is the most amusing thing ever. “While I’d never ask you to date him for the press or pretend to be in a relationship, I was, admittedly, hoping you actually were.”

  My jaw drops. It falls to the floor with a loud clang. I pick it up, reattach it, and blink several times. “You were truly hoping we were dating?”

  This is the last thing I expected. Even though I’d planned to have a heart-to-heart with him, I never thought he’d actively want us to be together. I merely hoped I could work something out. Some sort of proviso that made it acceptable to go out with him since I’m not Drew’s direct boss, or something. An under-the-radar-screen type of approval.

  Until I thought I was busted.

  But in a way, Stuart’s reaction makes perfect sense. The team’s image problems stemmed from guys doing drugs and fathering more babies than they could handle. From wrecking cars and trashing hotel rooms. Not from holding hands at the movies, or playing arcade games on the beach.

  Stuart drums his fingers on my desk. “When it comes to off-the-field sports stories, there’s little the public loves more than when the quarterback wins the heart of a good girl. But I guess that isn’t happening,” he says, sighing heavily. He stands and turns to leave. “I’m sorry if I was pushy.”

  And I snap out of my fog. “Wait.”

  He turns, an expectant look in his eyes. Time for me to woman up. Time to do what I planned to do mere minutes ago when I was ready to march into his office. Speak the truth.

  “You were right,” I say.

  He cocks his head, waiting.

  “About the vibe.”

  He lifts his chin, a smile sneaking across his mouth. “I was?”

  “Yes. I’ve tried to deny it because I thought it could hurt the team, but I’ve spent time with him at events, and have gotten to know him, and I do like him,” I say, owning my feelings, and leaving his off the table for the moment. As a lawyer by trade, I know how to present facts in order to protect others. My job right now is to take the risk for both of us, and I can handle putting my heart on the line.

  Especially given Stuart’s answer.

  His smile spreads cheek to cheek. “Drew does like you. That was patently obvious,” he says, and I beam. I can’t help it. I love that Stuart could tell Drew feels the same. “And he has excellent taste.”

  “Thank you,” I say, then furrow my brow. “It’s really okay?”

  He laughs. “Just don’t crash a car, snort a line, or get knocked up too soon. Otherwise, we’re all good. Oh, no sex tapes either.”

  My face turns the color of a fire engine. “You can count on that.”

  When Stuart leaves, I text Drew.

  Dani: Sooooo . . . that idea you floated last night . . .

  Drew: The one where you show up at my house naked? Say that comes true tonight, please.

  Dani: Glad you’re still game for that.

  Drew: Game for you is exactly what I am. But, by idea, did you mean the idea to play whack-a-mole again?

  Dani: Yes, sort of. More like what it would take to play whack-a-mole with you.

  Drew: I like where this is going. Especially because it sounds dirty. But also, sweet. Continue.

  Dani: You said you wanted to make a go of it. That you thought Stuart was pleased. Turns out your instincts aren’t just good on the field.

  Drew: I rock in general, don’t you know that? But . . . be a little more specific. He’s pleased about what? The cafeteria at the stadium? The newest press release he wrote? Or . . . ?

  Dani: He gave me the thumbs-up to . . . well, to go out with you. I told him I kind of liked you.

  Drew: Holy shit. You did that for us? You talked to Stuart?

  I give him the quick version of how it all went down, then send one more text.

  Dani: Please tell me you aren’t pissed.

  Drew: I’m fucking ecstatic. You are one badass, ballsy babe, and I’m crazy for you. And what you did makes me even crazier for you.

  Dani: Whew. I’ll take that brand of crazy.

  Drew: You deserve about a dozen orgasms. Good thing is, I know just the man who can deliver them.

  Dani: Make it a baker’s dozen please.

  Drew: Consider it done.

  Chapter Eleven

  Dani

  There is a dinner at a cafe by the ocean. There is a walk from the beach to my house. There are delicious conversations along the way.

  All that is part of tonight. But with the electric chemistry between us, there is mostly a low sexual hum in the air. A vibration between us that crackles and sparks, and we both know it’s about to combust the second we reach my front door.

  Because there is permission.

  In some ways, I feel foolish that we were so cautious. But in other ways, I don’t feel foolish for having played it—mostly—safe. We were able to get to know each other. We were able to talk and to chat. Sure, we skirted the line in his car, and we toyed with it again on the phone. But as we reach my porch, I know it’s different now than the last time we were here, and that difference makes me feel good about this choice. I unlock the green front door to my home and stumble inside with Drew Erickson. His hands are on my waist, his lips are on my shoulders, and the man hasn’t been able to keep his paws off me since . . . well, since this date started two hours ago.

  Now, we both know what’s coming next.

  Us.

  The door snaps shut.

  “Wanted this for so long,” he says, his voice smoky in my ear as he smothers my neck in kisses, his touch making the world around me glow. This is the definition of swooning. This is the meaning of weak in the knees. Look it up. It’s what he’s doing to me. My neck is his playground, and he covers it in caresses, gentle kisses, then hungrier nips. I never would have pegged him as a man so keen on kissing. But then, Drew Erickson has been surprising me from day one, when he bonked his head on a surfboard.

  My stomach flips as he presses his lips to the hollow of my throat, then backs me up to my couch. I sink down on it, and he follows me, his big body pressed against mine.

  Holy smokes.

  He feels spectacular covering me like this even though we’re still clothed. I can only imagine what it will be like to be skin to skin with this man. My mind is a haze of lust and desire as his lips travel down my chest, and he tugs on my silky tank top. I sit up, pulling it off, then he works open my bra.

  He groans when my breasts are free. “You’ve been hiding these beauties from me,” he says appreciatively as he cups them, playing with my flesh, pinching my nipples.

  My hips buck up when he does that, and a burst of pleasure races straight to my core. “No more hide and seek now,” I say.

  His eyes are wild with naughtiness as he kisses and sucks. He bites down, driving me wild, turning me on even more, and I’m already well past broiling. Then I reconsider my assessment when he takes off my skirt and yanks off my panties. I’m on fire as he drags one finger down my wet center.

  “Oh God,” I moan.

  “So slick and wet on my hand. I want to taste all this sweetness on my tongue.” He pulls my hips to the edge of my couch, kneels down, and spreads my legs wide. His gaze drifts to mine, as he growls, “I’ve gotten off to this image so many times. Now, I want you to come on my face.”

  He doesn’t need to tell me that twice. Because the second he buries his face between my legs, I don’t want to do anything else but chase an orgasm.

  He licks a delicious lin
e up my center, and I wriggle closer. Sparks ignite in my veins, and my skin sizzles with every lick, every touch, every kiss of my clit. He moans and murmurs as he goes down on me, and his sounds send me soaring. My body hums with desire, and I swear pleasure has camped out in every single molecule in my body. It’s all I feel. It’s all I am, as Drew laps me up, and the intensity builds with every consuming touch. Pressing his hands on my thighs, he spreads my legs wider, then drapes them over his shoulders.

  My hands shoot into his hair, gripping the strands harder, tugging him even closer still. My belly tightens, and I near the edge. My noises grow louder, filling the air as I moan and groan his name.

  Then, I’m panting and saying oh God, oh God, oh God, over and over as I rock my hips into his face, curl my hands tight around his head, and soar into the sky from the pleasure. I come undone on his lips in a wild frenzy.

  He pulls away and tugs off his shirt, as I blink open my eyes. What a lucky lady I am. The man undressing in front of me has a body to die for. No surprise there, but then I’d never take this kind of masculine beauty for granted. I could enjoy the view all day long.

  “God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” I say.

  “Why thank you. You’re pretty fucking bodacious yourself.”

  I crack up. “Bodacious? I haven’t heard that word in ages.”

  “I haven’t used it in ages. Or ever. But it fits you.”

  I sit up and reach for his jeans, unbuttoning, then unzipping, and soon I’ve stripped this gorgeous man down to nothing. I’ve seen him close enough to nude before—shirtless on the beach, and bottomless in his car. But right now, he’s wearing nothing and the look suits him. I gasp. I can’t help myself. He’s so stunning. His body is unreal, and I get to play with it, use it, have it, taste it.

  I grasp his hips, raise my face, and say, “I want you to fuck me now.”

  His eyes darken. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

  He reaches for a condom from his wallet and rolls it on, as I lie down on the couch. I open my legs for him, but he shakes his head.

  “Maybe I misunderstood, but I thought this was where you wanted to be?”

  He laughs as he parks himself on the couch, and pats his legs. “Get on me. I want you to ride me. And I want to play with your tits at the same time.”

  His game plan sounds good to me.

  I straddle him and he grasps my hips, positioning me over his cock. I rub the head against my wetness, and he draws a sharp breath, his mouth falling open. “Fuck, I want to be inside you so bad.”

  I ease down on his erection, and as he fills me inch by delicious inch, I moan. It feels so good. He’s big, but I’m ridiculously wet, so taking him in isn’t a problem. Soon, he’s in deep, and the feeling is intense. Goose bumps rise all over my skin as I start to move on him. His strong hands dig into my hips and he guides me. Shuddering from the wild sensations, I lean in closer, my breasts brushing his chest.

  He groans as he thrusts inside me, stroking up.

  His big hands run up my waist to my stomach and he covers my belly with one palm. There’s something strangely possessive in the gesture, in the way he’s touching me, and I like it. I ride him, savoring the fullness, thrilling at the way pleasure burrows deep inside my body, spreading and slinking to every corner. His hands glide up and he cups my breasts, squeezing.

  I cry out. “Oh God, that feels so good.”

  “So fucking good,” he says as he plays with them.

  I’m not one of those women who has a special spot—I’m not a breast girl, or an ear girl, where I can get off with a lick or kiss in a certain zone. But here with Drew, my entire body feels like an erogenous zone as he fucks me and fills me.

  “You look so beautiful riding my cock, Dani,” he says in a filthy whisper. His words seem both dirty and tender.

  I moan, letting my head fall back as I find my perfect pace, rocking up and down on him.

  “Love the way your sweet pussy grips me,” he growls, and I gasp from the lovely smut that falls from his mouth.

  Then, with one hand kneading a breast, he drops the other between my legs. He finds my clit, and he rubs. The sensations make me moan. Make me groan. Make me cry out in wild, thrilling pleasure.

  And before I know it, my words are as wild as his. As base and as dirty.

  Fuck me.

  I’m begging you.

  Harder. Deeper.

  Love your cock so far in me.

  Fuck me harder. Please, fuck me harder.

  His groans turn carnal. Animalistic. We become a hot, wild thing, a smashing of sweaty, greedy bodies, and I’m nothing but desire and the wish to come. As my muscles tense, pleasure erupts everywhere in me. There’s no part of me that’s untouched by this climax that simply consumes me. “Oh God, it’s so good, so good, so good.”

  And on my twentieth so good, he pulls out, flips me over, and positions me on all fours on my couch. He gets behind me and slides back inside.

  Talk about deep.

  This man fills me and stretches me like I’ve never been stretched before. He’s so far inside, I swear I’m feeling him in new places. But it all seems like heaven as he clasps his hands on my ass and punches his hips, pounding me.

  That’s what this is. It’s the lashing of rain against a window. Like a wild storm. Like thunder. Like the ocean waves crashing into the shore. And I want that wave. I want to fall under it, feel all of it.

  “Fuck, Dani. So fucking good. I’m gonna come so hard.”

  Knowing he’s reached the edge is all I need to find it again. Another orgasm rattles through my body as he comes inside me, and I join him in that sweet land of ecstatic bliss, our moans and groans layering on top of each other in the soundtrack to our first time.

  Soon, we collapse in a sweaty heap on my couch, and he smothers my neck in kisses again. Then my cheek, then my ear. “Hey you.”

  “Hey you.”

  “We’re going to do that again soon, right?”

  “We better.”

  “I need to warn you. I have a big appetite, so I’m gonna need a lot of sex. Because I love fucking you,” he says, his voice husky. Then, he takes a beat, looks into my eyes, and says, “And I’m also totally falling for you.”

  And there’s little better than this. Sex with the person you’re falling for. The dopey smile on my face matches his. “I’m falling for you too.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Drew

  I open the door to leave my apartment on Saturday morning, and do a double take.

  Jason stands outside, fist poised to knock.

  “Dude, what’s up? I need to head to the stadium for the walk-through,” I say, since today is all about reviewing the strategy and playbook for tomorrow. We have a chance to make it five in a row when San Francisco comes to town.

  “Just this little thing known as a meeting.” He taps his watch. “I was at the coffee shop down the block waiting for you, man. To talk about Qwench and some other stuff that I’m looking into. But you didn’t show. What’s up?”

  I drag a hand through my hair. “Right. Shit. Sorry. I forgot.”

  He jerks his head, and gives me a quizzical look. “That’s not like you. But that’s why I texted to see what was up. You didn’t get my texts?”

  “Um,” I say, rubbing a hand across the back of my neck. Truth was I was messaging Dani for the last twenty minutes. “Must have missed it.”

  “Just like you missed it a few nights ago when I told you I was working on some new deals for you?” He arches an eyebrow. Jason’s a chill dude, and he’s rarely ruffled. But there’s a fine layer of irritation coming through loud and clear in his tone.

  “Sorry, man. Been a crazy week.”

  After holding back for what felt like forever, Dani and I have made up for lost time. I’ve seen her every night after practice, and hell, every night it gets better and hotter and longer.

  “You getting enough sleep?” he asks, his protective side out in full force.


  “Yeah, totally,” I say, because it’s true. I know myself. Know my body.

  “Good. You’ve always needed a solid eight hours.”

  I do the math. Last night I clocked exactly eight. I give him a thumbs-up. “I’m getting it, man. I’m getting it.”

  “Good. And I’m guessing you missed my message this morning because you were busy texting with the woman as soon as you woke up?”

  I look down, then back up. Why do I feel guilty for missing his messages? Maybe because I’ve kind of been missing shit all week. But that’s what happens in the early days of a relationship, right? You can’t get enough of each other, and all I’ve wanted to do for the last week has been to play ball, and then to play with her.

  So that’s all I’ve done.

  “Yeah,” I say, admitting the truth.

  He claps me on the shoulder. Squeezing harder than I expect. “Glad you’re into her, man. Just . . . you know.”

  I cock my head to the side. “You know, what?”

  He taps his temples. “Just keep your focus.”

  I clench my teeth, then answer him. “I am all focus. I’m pretty much made of focus. And right now, let’s focus on Qwench. Because here’s the thing. I don’t think this company is a good fit.”

  “Yeah?”

  We’re still standing in the doorway, but the clock’s ticking, and Dani’s words ring in my ears. Another thing that’s slipped my mind is bringing it up with him. No time like the present. “Dani told me that Qwench ran into some trouble with tax fraud.”

  Jason frowns in confusion. “You were talking to her about your business affairs?”

  A kernel of guilt takes root inside me, like maybe I shouldn't have. But it didn’t seem wrong. It seemed really fucking helpful. “Dani said she’s happy to share the details with you. She was just trying to be helpful,” I add, but the words sound awkward coming out of my mouth, and I feel like an ass. Like I’m defending my girlfriend to my buddy, and I should not have to do that. Nor should I feel like I did something wrong by talking to her.

  He arches an eyebrow. “I’m sure she was. I’d love to know more. I’m just surprised you went to her for advice.”