Down Deep (Going Deep Book 1)

by Virna DePaul

  Alec’s fiancée Colleen had also joined them, and it gave Heath a reason not to have to talk to his fellow player too much. Colleen was gorgeous, with midnight black hair, her eyes a light shade of brown. She kept herself in top form, her body a work of art, and even though she was pregnant, there was no sign of it in her tiny white bikini. But even as he looked at Colleen’s gorgeous body, the only woman he truly saw was Camille.

  He couldn’t get her out of his head—not her smile, or her body, or the way she’d moaned his name as he made her come. He also couldn’t forget the way she’d looked at him after he’d slapped her ass and basically hurried her out. Or when he’d ignored her at that last game. He winced inwardly. Neither had been his best move.

  He’d gotten freaked about the idea of getting too close to her and he’d acted like a bastard because of it. He’d thought that a little time and distance would get her out of his system, but that hadn’t been the case. He was just as obsessed with her. It didn’t matter if an entire parade of Colleens dressed in white bikinis marched by: he wouldn’t even notice at this point.

  He’d been wavering between reaching out to her and doing what was right for both of them and leaving her alone. Camille had a kid, for God’s sake. She didn’t deserve to be hooked up with a guy who wasn’t willing to commit to her.

  But yesterday, he hadn’t been able to hold back any longer. He couldn’t let her think that their time together hadn’t meant something to him. So he’d texted her, not wanting to accomplish anything but let her know he’d been thinking of her. Her reception hadn’t been encouraging, and he’d told himself that was it, he had to let things go. Then she’d texted him back, asking him to come to her kid’s birthday party.

  “I’ve scheduled the tux fittings for next Thursday at 3:00,” Colleen was saying in an annoyed voice. “You’ll be there, right?”

  Heath knew his buddy was at his wit’s end with this whole wedding business.

  “At 3:00? Colleen, you know I have practice then. I’ve told you that so many times.” Alec tossed back his beer, finishing off what was probably his fourth or fifth bottle already. “And haven’t I already done a fitting before? How many do I need?”

  “As many as it takes until it’s perfect. You had to get your tux tailored, so you need to try on the finished product before the wedding.” She turned toward her fiancé, her back to Heath now. “Why are you always so difficult?”

  “Me? I have a job to do. You just keep scheduling things when you know I can’t come. How about you ask my assistant first before making appointments?”

  Heath could see Colleen bristling, and he wished he’d brought headphones so he could listen to music instead of their argument. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen them not arguing. Heath knew his friend was trying to do the right thing for his kid by marrying Colleen, but he doubted they were going to make the long haul. But he’d yet to offer his opinion. If Alec wanted it, he’d ask.

  “I don’t understand why you can’t just do these simple things for me!” Colleen’s voice rose, and Heath winced. “Do you want this wedding to be an absolute disaster?”

  Alec sighed. “Fine, I’ll be there, Colleen.”

  “Promise?” She leaned over and gave him a smacking kiss. “I love you, baby.”

  In response, Alec just smiled weakly. Colleen frowned when he didn’t say the words back to her, then went into the house.

  The afternoon meandered into silence—blessed silence, Heath thought—and the trio simply lay out in the sun for the next two hours. Colleen got up a few times to answer phone calls, while Alec continued drinking, something he’d been doing far too much of, Heath had started to notice. As evening approached, she went inside and came back out an hour later, dressed to the nines, teetering on stilettos. She leaned down and kissed Alec, who quickly turned his head so the kiss landed on his cheek. “I’m going out with the girls. Text me if you need anything?”

  “Have fun,” he replied distractedly. She raised an eyebrow at Heath, as if to tell him to keep her fiancé in line while she was gone, and then she left the two men alone.

  “Want another beer?” Alec asked.

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  When he returned with a beer for himself, he cocked his head to the side and looked at Heath for a moment. “Either you finally got it on with Genevieve, or something else happened. You’ve been quiet all afternoon.”

  “No, not Genevieve. Somebody else, actually. Let’s just say she’s…made an impression on me.” He waited for Alec to pump him for information. But maybe Alec sensed Heath’s desire not to kiss and tell, because all he said was, “So are things getting serious?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied. “But she did invite me to her kid’s birthday party.”

  Alec’s eyebrows rose. “She has a kid? And she invited you to the party? Moving kinda fast, isn’t she?”

  It didn’t feel like moving too fast, at least not to Heath. And she hadn’t seemed to want to invite him: it had been a favor for her kid. Then again, she could’ve just told her daughter he was unavailable and never asked him at all, so clearly she didn’t hate the idea of seeing him. “Apparently her kid is a big fan.”

  “If you really like this girl—and it sounds like you do—you should do something nice for the kid. Get her a football and sign it or something. I know the best way to get on a woman’s good side is to treat the kid well.”

  “I should probably stay away from her, though. She has a kid; she isn’t like Genevieve or the other girls I date. She’s…normal.”

  “Yeah, but the way she makes you feel doesn’t seem normal either. If she challenges you, then I think you should go for it.”

  Heath couldn’t help but laugh. “Since when did you become an expert on relationships?”

  Despite the humor behind Heath’s joke, Alec seemed to sober at his words. “Never said I was an expert,” he said quietly. “I know Colleen and I don’t seem like the happiest couple.”

  Heath debated on whether or not he should act like he hadn’t heard, to avoid delving into a deep topic. But looking at his friend’s tight, drawn face, he couldn’t let this slide. He sighed inwardly—he really wasn’t good at this stuff, but he could at least try, right?

  “You still determined to marry her? Because you can still be part of the baby’s life…”

  Alec shook his head. “I was raised by a single mom. And Colleen… She likes the idea of being with an athlete. If it’s not me…” He shook his head. “I need to know the baby, and Colleen, are taken care of.”

  Heath understood where Alec was coming from even though he disagreed with where it was taking him, but he hadn’t grown up without a dad the way Alec had either. “Maybe you guys are just stressed about the pregnancy. And Colleen’s got the hormone thing going on, along with the stress of the wedding. Things will probably get better.” Even he couldn’t really believe the words coming out of his mouth, but he wanted his friend to believe them.

  “Yeah, probably. One more month until the wedding, and then we’ll see I guess,” Alec sighed, leaning back in his deck chair.

  Heath raised a glass. “One more month and you’ll be a boring married man.” He tried for a joking tone, but he sounded forced even to his own ears.

  Heath and Alec hung outside for a little while longer before Heath made his way home. He hoped Alec and Colleen would work things out between them, but he didn’t know if signing the dotted line on a marriage certificate would do it. He prayed that his friend figured things out—and if that meant ending the engagement? So be it.

  He forced himself to transfer his thoughts elsewhere and it wasn’t difficult to do. Camille. Camille in his bed, writhing and moaning, her sweet pussy underneath his tongue. He groaned as he drove, hardening at the memory. He couldn’t just let things slide, let her off the hook and act like nothing had happened. He needed her underneath him, on top of him, in every room and on every countertop in existence. One taste hadn’t been nearly enough.
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  Using his car’s Bluetooth, he called her, and he listened as her phone rang. And rang. He almost thought she wasn’t going to pick up when her voice echoed through his speakers, “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Heath. What are you doing?”

  A pause. “Putting together a shopping list so I can pick up some things tomorrow.”

  She didn’t sound annoyed, merely…confused. He could work with that.

  “What are you shopping for? If you’re trying on sexy dresses, I’d be happy to give you my opinion.”

  She laughed. “I’ll actually be shopping for eye patches and pink feather boas.”

  “Hmmm. Super sexy. But I assume those are for a certain kid’s birthday party and not for more adult activities?”

  She snorted. “You’d be right in that assumption.”

  “Too bad. You want company anyway?”

  “Um…seriously?”

  “Sure, why not.”

  “You’re over an hour’s drive away, for one.”

  “Sure, but what’s an hour or two when I get to see your gorgeous face?”

  “Is it my face you’re interested in seeing or something else?” she said drily.

  He laughed. “I’m interested in seeing whatever you’re willing to show me on this shopping expedition. So, how about it?”

  * * *

  The next day, Camille and Heath were wandering around a costume shop, and he was doing an admirable job pretending to be interested in finding items for the perfect pirate tea party. “How about this?” he said, holding up a packet of fake beards and mustaches.

  “Maybe in the party favor bags. Otherwise they’ll get cake and ice cream all over them.”

  “Oh, good thinking.”

  They continued wandering, and to Camille’s surprise, Heath casually took her hand while they strolled. Her heart thumped loudly and she struggled not to melt when he rubbed her knuckles with his thumb.

  “So tell me about yourself.”

  It was so random and unexpected that she was taken aback for a moment. “Is this a job interview?” she joked.

  “No, I just realized we haven’t really talked, is all. What did you want to be when you grew up?”

  She didn’t know how to respond to that—he wanted to talk, while he was helping her shop for Emma’s birthday party, no less, yet just last week, he’d made it clear he only had sex on his mind where she was concerned, and that had been before he’d blown her off. But when she looked back at him, his expression was genuinely curious.

  For some reason, though, she didn’t want to talk about herself. She wanted to know about him; she realized with a start that she barely knew him. Sure, they’d gone to the same schools, but that didn’t mean you knew someone. Not really. “Before I answer your questions, how about I ask you one? Then we can go back and forth,” she said.

  He considered a moment before nodding. “Sounds like a deal. What do you want to know?”

  “How about what you wanted to be when you grew up? Did you always want to play in the NFL?” She expected that he’d say yes, but when he shook his head, surprise filled her.

  “Nope, I wanted to be a little league coach, like your dad. My dad was the one who wanted me to get into the NFL. I’ll be honest, I actually wanted to be your dad when I grew up.”

  She stopped walking, surprise and tenderness filling her. She’d known that Heath had looked up to her dad, but she’d had no idea he’d wanted to be like Cal Pollert. The fact that his childhood dream had been so…normal made her heart twist a little. Had he also wanted the happy family? She knew his dad had never been the nurturing type, and that his mom hadn’t been around at all. “When did that idea change?” she asked.

  Heath thought a moment. “Probably when my dad lost his job when I was a kid—he got injured, you know. He knew he could never pay for college, so he wanted me to earn a football scholarship. He pushed me to be my very best.” He gestured at himself. “And here I am, NFL player and all.”

  “Yeah, but is that what you wanted? Or did you just do what your dad said?”

  “I wanted to be good at football, for him. For myself. I didn’t want to be a burden. And I was never going to get that 4.0, so football was all I had.” He smiled, although it was a little bitterly.

  Camille couldn’t even imagine the amount of pressure he’d been under as a kid. What if he hadn’t gotten that scholarship? What would have happened then? She almost asked, but the look in his eyes stopped her. Instead, she pointed to a section of sports costumes.

  “Did you wear football uniforms for Halloween as a kid?”

  “Nah. I was more into Star Wars and zombies. How about you? Ever dress up as a cheerleader? Because if not, we definitely have to rectify that and soon. In fact…”

  His zeroed in on a skimpy cheerleading costume, and then he looked back at her with pleading eyes.

  “Absolutely not,” she said.

  He pouted exaggeratedly, but they kept walking until they came upon some toy swords. Heath grabbed one.

  “Surrender, woman!” he said as he thrust the pointed plastic at her side. “I’ll get yer booty!”

  “You wish!” Giggling, she grabbed her own sword, and gently stabbed him in the stomach, and he clutched his abdomen, acting like he was mortally wounded. She left him fake-bleeding on the floor, laughing despite herself.

  Next, they tried on wigs and feather boas and masks, laughing at each other the entire time. Other patrons noticed them—how could they not notice Heath Dawson of the Bootleggers?—but thankfully, they were mostly left alone. The store clerk asked them a few times if they needed assistance, probably annoyed at their antics, but Heath just winked and said they were good.

  “Oh, Watergirl,” Heath crooned a few minutes later, making her turn from where she’d been inspecting invitations. He held up a pirate lady costume. “You did say you’re going to dress up, too, didn’t you?”

  She pursed her lips. “Yes, but I was thinking a tea hat and eye patch.”

  “Why not go bigger, I always say. Come on, if you’re not going to try on the cheerleader costume, how about this?”

  Biting her lip, she studied his teasing expression, something in her wanting to say to hell with it and just go for it. Besides, while sexy, the costume wasn’t anywhere near as skanky as the cheerleading costume had been.

  “Fine,” she said, grinning at Heath’s surprised look. She grabbed the costume from him, then went into the dressing room to try it on. NO RETURNS ON COSTUMES, signs read throughout the store, but she probably wasn’t going to get the costume anyway, so it didn’t matter. This was just for fun.

  She pulled the curtain closed before undressing. After a few minutes, she stood in full pirate gear—and that’s when the curtain opened. She gasped.

  Heath smiled broadly as he quickly shut the curtain again.

  “What are you doing in here?” she hissed.

  “Helping you try on your costume,” he replied innocently.

  When he batted his lashes, she couldn’t help but laugh. But the laugh turned into a light gasp when he stood just behind her, pushed her hair over her shoulder and traced his fingers across the nape of her neck. She thought she’d looked ridiculous in this costume, but as she caught his gaze in the mirror, she felt like she was wearing the sexiest outfit imaginable.

  He kissed her neck. His tongue traced her vertebra. “You taste like sugar,” he murmured.

  Camille closed her eyes. She became awash in sensation, his hands caressing her back. Her waist, dipping into her belly button. She felt him push the straps of the costume downward until it was at her waist. Her pink bra revealed, she felt him groan against her back.

  “So pink and creamy,” he said softly, barely audible to her own ears. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

  She opened her eyes, and it was her turn to groan at the look in his eyes. It was like she was the only woman in the entire world right now: his eyes were dark and fathomless and filled with such desire that she trembled.
His hardness pressed against her hip, and she wiggled against him.

  He slapped her ass lightly for that, and heat filled her. He then pushed the skirt of the costume upward until her matching pink panties were revealed. Delving a hand below the waistband of her underwear, he stroked her; she tilted her hips toward his roving hand.

  “So wet and hot already? My sexy Watergirl wants me, doesn’t she?”

  He parted her folds, dipping and stroking, and when he brushed her already sensitive clit, she gasped.

  “Shhhh, you don’t want them to hear us,” he whispered hotly in her ear.

  How could she stay silent as he touched her like this? She was already on the edge. Was she really going to come in a dressing room, Heath Dawson whispering dirty things in her ear?

  That’s when he began unzipping his own jeans, undoing his belt and letting the pants fall to his ankles. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, and Camille shuddered as his naked cock came into view. She took hold of him, marveling at the heat and the velvet of his shaft. But after only a few strokes, he pushed her hand away.

  “You’re gonna make me lose it if you keep that up.” His voice was low and husky, and she felt a rush of wetness between her thighs.

  He then pilfered a condom from his wallet and sheathed himself in the latex. Pushing on her lower back, he pushed her until her hands landed on the sides of the mirror and she was at a 90-degree angle. He hooked his fingers in her panties until they were at her knees.

  “God, Heath,” she couldn’t help but moan. “Fuck me, God, please.” She never thought she’d beg this man for sex, for his cock thrusting inside of her, but she needed him with a desire that bordered on painful.

  He parted her legs, aiming his cock at her dripping entrance. And then he thrust inside in a smooth motion. They both groaned, and Camille bit her lip to keep herself quiet.

  That’s when he started pounding into her, and she couldn’t stop herself from watching it all happen in the mirror: Heath’s fingers digging into her hips, his face contorted in agonized pleasure. She could see a sheen of sweat on his brow. But most of all, she watched as he fucked her relentlessly, her body bouncing against the mirror. With her legs barely parted, the penetration of his cock felt even deeper than before. Her sex clenched around him, and he gripped her hips even harder.