Quarterback Sack

by SE Hall

  “Perfect. Then it sounds like the best place for us to go is my house.” I take a second to examine all angles of what he is, or isn’t, saying and before I have the chance to refuse, he’s telling the driver his address and handing him a very large tip.

  “I pay my driver well. He doesn’t need your money.” Teasing him is easy. Too easy.

  “You don’t know what he needs, and if I want to hand him my entire paycheck for the year, you can’t stop me.” He props a leg up on the seat in front of us and looks over at me with those piercing eyes and bad boy smirk.

  “Oh, really?” I sit back and tame my reaction as he flirts with me. He tucks his thumb in his waistband, drawing my attention to the bulge in his pants, and of course, watches closely for me to even so much as take a glance. Which I do, too damn quickly to feign an accident. Fuck me. He knows exactly how to remind me just how bad, and very, very good, he can be.

  “I do what I want. It’ll save you a lot of aggravation if you go ahead and accept that fact now. You know, early in our relationship. And as far as going to my house, I’d be fine with going to your place if you’d rather. It doesn’t make a difference to me; just thought since you said you didn’t want to go out, we’d go in.” He shrugs as if it makes perfect sense…which it does. So much so, I have to laugh, which I don’t think I’ve done since the first night I met him. My life seems to be missing anything amusing lately.

  “You do what you want?” To avoid the conversation about where we’re going, I let him win this one and change the subject. After all, he promised to keep his hands to himself. Not that I’m sure I really want that.

  “I sure as hell do.” He laughs and I hate that the sexy, carefree noise makes me smile. I quickly turn my head toward the window, trying to hide my grin, and stop myself from thinking anything more about his touch. Or his kiss. Or the way his dick felt buried deep inside me. Damn him.

  Stop, Ava.

  “Look at us…we have all of this alcohol in here and a driver, yet we’re sitting here with our hands empty.” He clicks his tongue and leans forward, opening up the large bottles of whiskey one at a time, taking a single swig out of each of them. I make a mental note to have them removed first thing tomorrow. The last thing I need in my limo is an alcohol free-for-all. My grandfather loved to have it on hand; he was a casual drinker and I witnessed him using the stock more than a few times to break the ice with business associates. But I find conversations more conducive when everyone involved is sober.

  “You know, there are glasses in the rack. Or do you just prefer to act like a barbarian?”

  “Eh, I’m easy.” He winks. “I can do either. I figured I’d save Rex some work.” He sits back with the bottle of Jack, propping it on his knee just long enough to unscrew the lid before lifting it to me, as if I’ll drink from a bottle like a hoodlum.

  “I’ll pass. Just doesn’t feel right without a brown paper bag around it too. You understand,” I smile cheekily.

  “I thought you were out to have a good time tonight. I didn’t realize you were such a sourpuss.” He replaces the lid without taking a drink. “Matter of fact, wasn’t a sour thing about your pussy last time I checked.”

  I cruise right past the lewd innuendo, not about to fall into that trap. “Why would you think I was out to have a good time? I literally told you the opposite, that it was Marcy’s idea, and I was merely doing research. And I am most certainly not a sourpuss. You don’t even know my personality, so you can’t say that.”

  His eyebrows lift in arrogant interest as I yank the bottle from his grip, twist off the cap and throw my head back, taking a giant drink before I could stop myself. I wasn’t planning for the raging inferno that erupts in my throat, the liquid fire choking me. I spit what I can out, most of that splattering against the partition. Thankfully, Rex had closed it to give us some privacy, sparing himself the gross surprise of a second-hand whiskey shower.

  Rush’s laughter is louder than my dramatics as the burning begins to settle in the pit of my stomach as opposed to the back of my throat. “You think my near-death is funny?” I reach for a towel, drying what evidence of my stupidity I can while he continues to chuckle at my expense. Whiskey is not meant to be drank straight. Lesson learned. “You find third-degree burns to the lining of my esophagus hysterical, I get it. Very nice.”

  “You’re so fucking cute when you’re all feisty. I love watching you pretend you can handle all of this.”

  “What do you mean pretend?” He has to recognize that I’m no longer in a playful mood by the offended tone of my voice. “And handle all what? Straight whiskey? If that’s my worst ‘can’t do,’ I think I’ll live.”

  “You know exactly what I meant; not the whiskey and nothing bad. Face it, a whole new life was thrown at you unexpectedly. You have thousands watching you, your every move, most of them probably expecting you to fail because you aren’t the great Walt Vanderbilt. But Ava,” he shifts in his seat to face me before continuing, “you don’t have to pretend to be brave and perfectly composed all the time. Not with me. I see the real Ava, and that’s who I want to get to know.”

  Rex pulls up to a large, wrought-iron gate so Rush stops talking. I couldn’t be happier with the timing. He was delving into “deep” territory that he doesn’t know me well enough to comment on…nor am I sure I believe his interest is pure, or genuine. After what he said, it’s very clear I can’t go inside with him, so I start thinking of how I’ll get him out of the car without making a huge scene.

  “Look,” I sigh, “I can’t go in with you. Thanks for getting me out of there tonight, but…” Before I have the chance to finish, he’s moved so close to me that I feel his warm breath brush across my ear when he speaks.

  “Not a fuckin’ chance, Ava. You’re going to spend time with me tonight, even if it’s just sitting in this limo.” His thumb brushes over my cheek as he turns my face to his. “I promised not to touch you, and I won’t, unless you ask me to, so there’s no reason why you can’t come in and take your mind off all the shit you’ve been dealing with, alone. If you’re not having fun within half an hour, call Rex to pick you up and I won’t try to stop you.” He reaches over me and opens the door on my side. Not the normal way to exit a limo, or any vehicle really, but he knows if I don’t step out first, the chances of me driving away once he gets out are very probable.

  I’ll chalk my spontaneity up to the way he smells, because I did have to force myself to stop mid-inhale when he reached over me. “What cologne do you wear?” My excuse becomes an accidental question as he steps out behind me.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Nice house.” I take in the very impressive home he’s made for himself, hidden amongst a thick grove of trees and just far enough outside of the city to be convenient, yet offer a full, unencumbered view of the endless sky above.

  “Thank you. I’m sure it’s not as extravagant as what you’re used to living in, but it works for me.” His confidence, somewhat humbled, still radiates off him as he takes my hand and leads me inside his house. This time, I don’t pull away. He doesn’t go any further against his promise of not touching me once he closes the door, even putting forth extra effort to make me feel at home with some soft background music and a glass of wine. A much better choice than whiskey.

  His inherent teasing doesn’t stop though, causing me to struggle. Why am I allowing him to be openly charming and flirtatious with me when I’ve been redundantly clear with him and myself about where “this” can’t go? “You’re thinking again,” he chuckles lightly. “Maybe I should get you another glass of wine.”

  “I see your sworn change in modus operandi didn’t last long. Right back to the ‘get her drunk then get your way’ plan, huh?” His eyes narrow, never leaving me as he rinses out my glass.

  “I can promise you, I don’t have to get women drunk to be with me.” I watch him dry the glass and pull a bottle of juice out of the fridge. “And my M.O. has never included inviting a woman into my home
to unwind, talk, and remain clothed. Just for that incorrect assumption, you’re getting grape juice.”

  “I happen to like grape juice, so that isn’t a punishment.” He hands me the glass then grabs a water for himself. I try not to ogle his ass when he bends over, but my eyes are already there, of their own accord. Why am I so drawn to this man? I’ve never had anyone get under my skin the way he does, and there’s that damn lump in my throat again the instant he stands up and catches me gawking.

  “You know, all you have to do is say the word, one word, and this night will take a completely different turn. No one will ever find out, unless of course, you brag about me.” He grins devilishly.

  “There’s that cocky asshole that makes an appearance too damn often.” I throw back my retort, then my grape juice, and actually savor the taste as it easily slides down my throat.

  “That cocky asshole got you in bed the first time you met him, so maybe a little less hypocritical judgement from you.” He’s right, he did. And gave me the best fuck of my life. I can’t forget that part, not that I’d be able to if I tried.

  “If things were different,” I duck my head and whisper as I try to hide from the fact that I just admitted that I’m interested in him.

  “But they aren’t. And so fucking what? Why do we have to pretend that we don’t want to fuck each other into next week? Ava, I want you, but I also want to remain a starting quarterback in the NFL. I’m not gonna say anything, to anyone.”

  I want so badly to tell him I don’t feel the same and I’m not pretending, but he somehow has the eerie ability to see right through me every time I try to deny anything, so I save the useless effort. It is just fucking, and I do believe he’d keep quiet to ensure his position on the field. And it’s not like we’re falling for each other and he’s trying to convince me to be in a real relationship with him. It’s sex. A private, torrid affair, the memory of which has my thighs and pussy clenching in need. There’s no doubt a repeat would be as mind-blowing and intense as the first time, except now, I know him. And I’ll be seeing a lot of him in the future. In the presence of people who I can’t afford to chance them picking up on my instinctive reaction to him.

  “What if, somehow, it did get out?” My voice wavers. “How would it look, the starting quarterback fucking the team owner? The other players and staff would think you’re getting preferential treatment.”

  “Bullshit. They all know I’ve earned my position,” he growls, stalking toward me. So close, my nipples harden to sharp points, as though reaching for him, begging for his touch. The touch he’s not giving me—on purpose.

  “I can’t trust that you’d keep it just between us. I can see you acting weird when we’re around others.”

  “I’d never tell anyone. I’m not one to fuck and tell.” I sense that he’s struggling, being so close to me, yet still being restricted. He’s possibly more tortured by it than I am, but I doubt it; it’d be damn near impossible to top my torment at this point.

  I break the barrier and lay my hand on his chest. It fully ignites the long-smoldering blaze between us and we crash together in a fury of groping and kissing as I try to climb him, needing to be impossibly closer. He feels so good, and makes me feel like the sexiest woman alive as he devours every inch of my body with his mouth and hands as if he can’t get enough either.

  With ease, he grabs my ass and lifts me, my legs wrapping around his waist as he walks us through the house, never breaking contact with my lips. I wind my arms around his neck and enjoy the ride, thriving on his deep moan when I run my fingers through his hair and grip it, pulling his mouth from mine. “Oh fuck yeah,” he grunts against my neck and bites down on the sensitive flesh before gently dropping me on the bed.

  His eyes have changed, smoldering with barely-restrained lust. He’s starving for this, and I easily recognize it, because I’m right there with him.

  Chapter Eleven

  RUSH

  Fuck yes. She tastes as sweet as I remember. Her kiss sends a surge of adrenaline pumping through my body that has me practically tearing her clothes off right here in the hall, before we even make it to my room. The only thing stopping me is the very likely possibility of not being able to make it all the way there before Ty comes busting in…like he always seems to do; an extra special “knack” for doing so at the worst moments possible. I don’t want him seeing Ava here, especially stripped and being fucked against the wall, because if strict confidentiality is a rule she needs in place to be able to move forward with this thing we have, then that’s a fucking rule I’ll make damn sure to uphold.

  It’s a perfect set-up for me. No-strings-attached, beastlike fucking with a gorgeous woman whose company I actually enjoy. She’s intelligent, stubborn and sexy as all fuck…and nothing like any of the women I’ve ever been with before.

  She’s lying on my bed, propped up on her elbows and watching my every move with glazed, ‘fuck me’ eyes. I slowly pull my shirt over my head and toss it aside, loving the way she’s taking me in, unable to hide her impatience. Shit. If I don’t slow down and force a grip on my self-control, I’m going to absolutely demolish her with the way I want to fuck right now.

  “Clothes off,” I demand, my voice gruff with unfiltered craving. “Take your time, I don’t want to miss a goddamn thing.” I pull her from the bed and her hands slink behind her back to lower the zipper on the dress she’s wearing. I’m aching and edgy as I wait for her to spin around and slowly slide the straps off her shoulders, one at a time, purposely teasing me into a frenzy. I fight the urge to take over and rip the clothes from her gorgeous body, because I’m finding…I love this game of seductive anticipation.

  I don’t normally take the time to watch how a woman reacts to me, studying even the smallest nuances of her expression, the rise and fall of her chest with each needy breath, every sinuous movement—not anything I usually give a damn about. But scrutinizing Ava seems to be something I look forward to lately. Maybe I’m letting her get to me more than I should. More than I would’ve thought possible.

  She stops mid-zip and the sudden, shamed look on her face, like a punch to the gut, tells me—this little party is over. She’s allowing thoughts of people finding out about us to mind-fuck her into putting a stop to this. Dammit.

  Now I do take charge, determined to act quickly and steer her mind and body back to me and what she knows she wants me to do to her.

  “Here let me.” I hustle behind her and slide the zipper down to her lower back, exposing all that sweet flesh, only to have her turn toward me abruptly.

  “I can’t do this. Thank you for a great night Rush, but I have to leave. Please zip me back up.”

  I stifle a frustrated groan and raise the zipper, making sure to brush my finger up her bare back in the process. Her skin erupts in goose bumps and I decide to call her bluff. “Ava, you can run, but I’ll still be going home with you.” I trace the neck of her dress with a smooth, slow touch, continuing to work the Riggins magic, hoping to entice her back into the moment. I’m not used to this much of a challenge, or any challenge for that matter, and I have to say…I’m intrigued by it, by her. “You may go home alone, this time, but you’ll think about me all night. Wishing it was my dick between your legs as you squirm, sighing in aggravation, working your fingers ‘til they ache to get the release you’re craving.” I tug her flush against my chest and let my deep voice rumble next to her ear. “You’ll smell me on your skin, remembering the way I made you feel when I ate that sweet pussy of yours until you were screaming. So yeah, I’ll be with you tonight, one way or another.”

  I glide my hand down the front of her body, feeling her heart beat faster the more I lowly speak the truth. “You’ll miss me, Ava. And you will be the one to act awkward around others because you can’t get me out of your mind. Every time you see me, your eyes will roam over my body, thinking about what each part of it can do to you.”

  She exhales loudly before grabbing my hand to pull it off her. “You think way
too highly of yourself.” She adjusts her hair and dress one last time before stomping from my room, leaving me standing there trying to comprehend actual rejection, a totally foreign phenomenon that I’m not fucking fond of, until Tyler’s obnoxious yelling from the living room grabs my attention.

  An annoying ruckus of fake female laughter echoes down the hall as I step out, almost plowing over Ava, frozen in place. Even in profile, I can see that her eyes are flared wide with terror, that fear growing as the voices get louder.

  Without thinking, I step in front of her, blocking Tyler’s view of her just in time. He turns the corner, so I smash my body against hers, pinning her against the wall—something I could’ve prevented, but this is more fun.

  “Oh shit. Sorry, man. Just came to use your spare room, if you don’t mind,” he speaks to my back. Her eyes plead with me to keep her hidden as a smirk spreads across my face. I take the opportunity to nibble on her bottom lip and grab her ass, making it more than clear to Tyler that I’m with someone…and the someone can’t reject my advances without revealing herself. Might actually have to thank him for the invasion later.

  “Whatever. Can’t you see I’m a little busy?” I suck along her neck and use my knee between her legs to spread them farther apart, chuckling softly at her muffled grumble of protest, before Tyler decides to bust out his true personality.

  “Honey, when you get bored with Ol’ Rush here, come give Big Ty a visit. I’ll be right down the hall, saving plenty of room for you in my bed.” She pushes me back just enough to let me see the horrified expression on her face.

  “Ty, go. Before I throw you out of my fucking house.” I turn my body to ensure she’s completely hidden from Ty, motioning with my head for her to go back in my bedroom before he sees her.

  I wanted her to run back to my room, I just didn’t think hiding from Ty would be the reason. I hear her shut the door to my en suite bathroom as Ty continues to walk toward my bedroom. “Is that the girl from the club you let rub on your dick?” His half-attempted whisper is more of a drunken, deep-graveled rumble that I know she heard. Never mind the thanking him later.