Quarterback's Virgin (A Sports Romance)

by Ivy Jordan

  I was stunned. I couldn’t imagine the appeal to her in this dingy cabin with no electricity and with the likes of me. Still, I couldn’t help grinning like a cat that just caught its first mouse.

  Chapter Ten

  Bailey

  I pulled my knees to my chest, happy that the pain had subsided in my hip and ankle. Staring out the window, I watched Xander split logs effortlessly with his strong arms and back, sighing at the thought of being with him again. It had been a week since we were together, there was still no word from his buddy Liam, and there was no attention from him. Had I put him off in some way?

  Goosebumps formed on my arms as the chill from the thin window rolled in. The cabin was warm, kept warm by Xander, but near the window, the draft was almost unbearable. I couldn’t take my eyes from Xander, so I pulled a wool throw around my arms and snuggled against the back of the large chair.

  His long hair curled out of his toboggan, and snow crested his goatee shades of white. Heat exploded between my legs remembering our night together. His strong arms, gentle touch, and piercing blue eyes penetrating through me pulled me back to that night, beneath him, and filled me with a longing for more. Why hadn’t he made a move? I was determined that he would again.

  With a swift swing of the axe, Xander’s head turned towards me, his eyes stopped on mine, and his lips rolled into a flirty smile. Fuck, I wanted him so bad!

  His head shook slightly, as if he was amused by my spying, and then went back to his log splitting. I jumped up, a new mission on my mind. I was going to get noticed, and he was going to make a move.

  I slid out of the baggy jogging pants he’d given me to wear, pulled my hair from its tight ponytail, and fluffed it up with my fingers just as he walked in the front door. As I stepped out into the room, the blast of cold air from outside nipped at my bare legs. Xander’s eyes immediately fell on my exposed flesh, lingering, but only for a moment. He walked towards the fire, dropping the logs he’d split beside the stone fireplace, and knelt down, warming his hands in front of the flame.

  “How’s the weather?” I asked, trying to act nonchalant as I moved to the couch.

  “It’s still pretty rough out there. I can see barely twenty feet down the mountain side,” he responded without turning around.

  “So, I guess we are still stuck?” I smirked, beaming inside that I got to stay in the cabin with Xander.

  He turned to me, his eyes widened, and his lips parted to allow an escaped sigh. I watched as he appeared to drift off somewhere else, somewhere other than this cabin with me.

  “I mean, you seem to be feeling better. We could try to make it down,” he offered.

  I couldn’t tell if he was reluctant because he didn’t want to try to make it down, or if he was reluctant because maybe he did. Maybe he was ready to get rid of me. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t paying attention to me anymore. My heart sank into my chest at the realization that I may be able to leave this mountain. Where would I go? What was waiting for me, who was waiting for me?

  “I’m not sure I could make it down,” I hesitated.

  Xander’s smile spread across his face, causing my heart to lighten. He didn’t want to get rid of me.

  “I could make it down, maybe find out who’s looking for you,” he suggested.

  “And leave me here alone?” I panicked.

  “It would just be a couple days,” he explained.

  I pulled my legs onto the couch, tucking them beneath me, and covering them with Xander’s long t-shirt I wore. I hated that idea almost as much as the one where I climbed down the mountain.

  Xander laughed, his eyes filled with amusement as he stared at me. “Are you afraid something will get ya?”

  “I’m not afraid,” I lied. “I just don’t want you to leave me,” I whined.

  He shoved a log onto the fire, and then poked it a couple times to position it before getting up and moving towards the couch. He sat beside me, his body still exuding the cold outside air. “I won’t leave you,” he promised, pulling me into his arms.

  My legs filled with goosebumps, and I shivered from the cold.

  “Why aren’t you wearing pants?” he chuckled.

  “It was hot in here,” I smirked, knowing the real reason was to get noticed.

  “I’m gonna wash up,” he smiled, releasing me from his grip. I watched as he got up, walked into the bathroom, and shut the door. What the fuck?

  I reached up, pulled the blanket from the side of the couch onto my legs, and snuggled into the cushion. I watched the flame flickering as I thought about Xander and his distance. There had to be a reason why he’d been so uninterested all week.

  The water squealed from the faucet as Xander took his time washing up. My eyes grew heavy as I waited for him to exit the small room, eventually falling closed to darkness.

  “You hungry?” Xander’s voice pulled me from my sleep. It was still daylight, but it felt as though I’d slept for hours.

  “What time is it?” I asked, wiping the sleep from my eyes.

  “Around four,” he responded.

  He was sitting beside me, and the cabin smelled of garlic and lemon. I pushed myself up, feeling the grumble of hunger roll in my belly. “I’m starved,” I admitted.

  “Good. I made an early dinner,” he announced, getting up abruptly from his spot next to me on the couch. “Stay there. I’ll bring you a plate,” he insisted.

  I hated, and loved, that he took such good care of me. Maybe that was the problem; he didn’t want to make a move on someone so helpless. I had to show him I was fine, that I could take care of myself.

  My hip ached from the way I’d fallen asleep on the couch, but not bad enough to stop me from my mission. I pushed myself up, stretched out the kinks in my back and neck, and moved towards the kitchen. Xander was unwrapping a foil package that released more of the delicious aroma into the air when opened.

  “I told you I’d bring you your plate,” he smiled softly.

  “I can take care of myself,” I smirked.

  The satellite radio he’d gotten weather reports from was on low, and a reporter was heard announcing yet another burst of bad weather. I reached across Xander to the small radio, and turned the small dial. Static blasted through the tiny speakers, until finally music played. I turned it up, immediately noticing Xander’s surprise. My hip hurt, and my ankle felt weak, but I started dancing anyway. His eyes widened, and his smile spread quickly up his cheeks.

  “You’re feeling better,” he chuckled.

  I was feeling better. Much better.

  I grabbed the plates from the counter and held them for Xander to slide a piece of fish onto each. He opened another foil package that contained potatoes, peppers, and roasted tomatoes, splitting the contents equally between the two plates. My body swayed to the music, and suddenly I started to sing along. Your mama don’t dance, and your daddy don’t rock and roll.

  “You remember this song?” Xander asked, his surprise impossible to hide from his expression. His eyes widened even further as he listened to me sing the next verse, one that hadn’t been sung yet, so no way that I was just mocking the musician.

  I stopped suddenly, shocked myself that I was singing along so effortlessly to the song I couldn’t remember ever hearing before.

  “I don’t know,” I gasped, unable to contain the smile rearing up on my face. I must’ve heard it before, somewhere.

  “That’s great,” he exclaimed, taking the prepared plates from my hands.

  “I don’t remember it,” I sighed, following him to the couch.

  He set our plates on the table and then pulled out two beers from the cooler next to the couch.

  “Maybe music will help jog more of your memory,” he suggested.

  “It couldn’t hurt,” I admitted.

  “Have you remembered anything?” he questioned.

  His voice was filled with concern, and it was obvious it bothered him that I still hadn’t remembered anything. I shook my head and shrugg
ed my shoulders.

  That first bite of fish melted in my mouth, the flavors exploding against my tongue.

  “This is amazing,” I gasped, quickly scooping another bite onto my fork.

  Xander smiled proudly while watching me eat.

  I could tell he had a thousand more questions about my memory, but I didn’t have any answers. I’d grown accustomed to being there with him, and after our passionate night together, I quit worrying about what was waiting for me outside this cabin. I felt as though I could stay here forever, happy, content, and never worrying about what life I had before. It couldn’t have been that great, otherwise I’d remember it, right?

  I sucked down my beer, and Xander handed me another. I hadn’t drank much since I’d been there, and after half way through the second, I felt my head get a little light. I didn’t care. I was enjoying myself. The music was still blaring from the other side of the cabin, and every other song I seemed to remember the words, even if I didn’t remember the song.

  I grabbed our empty plates, danced towards the sink, and started cleaning up the meal that Xander had prepared. “I’ll get that. You need to rest,” he insisted.

  “I need to dance,” I laughed, working my hips back and forth in front of the sink.

  He leaned in, pressing against me, and instantly sending chills down my spine with excitement and anticipation.

  “Here,” he said softly in my ear, reaching up to grip the washcloth above me.

  He handed me the cloth, our hands touching gently for a split second, and then backed up, removing his hard body from my backside. I tingled with frustration and want, wishing I had the balls to just turn around and grab him, taking him right there.

  The beer was enough to distract my irritation, and the music on the radio enough to keep me happy and cheerful. I continued to dance around the kitchen area, cleaning everything and placing it back in its spot while Xander helped, but mostly just watched in amazement.

  “Everything’s clean,” he announced, standing stiffly in front of the sink.

  My body wiggled to the beat of the music as I slung the wet cloth over my shoulder. Our eyes met, and I wasn’t willing to let go. I locked onto him, letting my eyes seduce him with their desire as he continued to remain frozen in his spot. What was his deal?

  Chapter Eleven

  Xander

  The music filled the small room of the cabin, and Bailey swayed perfectly to the beat. Her long legs, now bare, pink and fleshy…fuck, they were killing me. Her eyes were locked onto mine, and even though I wanted to pull away from our stare, I was frozen. It was as if she had me in a trance, one that I didn’t mind being entangled in.

  “You need to take it easy on that ankle,” I uttered, clearing my throat as I spoke.

  She giggled. Damn, those pink lips curling into a smile drove me wild. My eyes drifted from hers, finally freed from the lock she had on them, and moved accidentally to her long legs. My t-shirt dropped to her upper thigh, high enough to allow me the sweet view of her curved flesh. I pulled my eyes away, quickly turning to the sink.

  “There are still a few dishes,” she insisted.

  A skillet, one used over the flame, cast iron, and used only to house the food inside the foil. It wasn’t dirty. A glass from my whiskey the night before, and that was it. There wasn’t enough to do in there to excuse her being up on her feet on that bad ankle. If I was ever going to get her off this mountain, she would need her strength, all of it. The mountain wasn’t a forgiving one, even when not covered in slick snow.

  “I’ll get this stuff later,” I insisted, moving towards her cautiously.

  My hands rested on her shoulders, stopping her from her wiggling to the music, and causing her to lock onto my eyes once again. They were so green, so pure, so trusting. I was an ass for taking advantage of her the way I had. I’d beat myself up all week over that night. I knew better. She was helpless, trusting me to care for her, and she didn’t even remember her own name. What had I been thinking? Not again. I swore I’d never do that again.

  She stood there, her big green eyes batting in my direction, her lips full and pouty, and her nipples hardening beneath the cotton of my t-shirt she wore. Damn, she was beautiful. Maybe once she regained her strength, and her memory, maybe then I’d kiss that mouth again. Hell, she probably had someone who loved her already, someone who was devastated about her being lost. It was doubtful a girl like Bailey didn’t have someone looking for her, wanting nothing more than to hold her in their arms again. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing her, but keeping her here like this, taking advantage of her vulnerable state, that wasn’t my style. She deserved better.

  “I’m gonna get more wood ready before the next storm hits,” I choked out as my throat started to close.

  She looked disappointed, but still relentless with her seductive eyes and lips. Fuck!

  “Want some help?” she asked sweetly, her hand resting on her hip as it cocked outward. Damn, those curves. My cock was twitching against the denim of my jeans, begging for release, for satisfaction. I needed some air.

  “No, you’re hardly dressed for chopping wood,” I chuckled.

  Her tight nipples pushed against the thin material of the shirt as her lips parted to release a sweet sigh. I watched her eyes roll, and then the sweetest laugh fell from her lips. Yeah, I need air, and fast!

  “You stay here, warm up,” I teased, allowing my eyes to move to her breasts.

  She quickly wrapped her arms around her chest, hugging herself, and hiding the hardened nipples from my view as she blushed. Her cheeks turned the sweetest pink, reminding me of the flash between her legs. I quickly turned away from her before my erection was noticed, and grabbed my coat and gloves by the door. I walked outside without looking back, before finishing the last button on my coat, or even putting on my gloves. The cold air was violent, but welcoming as it calmed my cock and cleared my mind.

  I pulled on my hat, slid on my gloves, and grabbed the axe. I’d split plenty of wood to last a few days earlier that morning, but it was an excuse to get away from her, so I took it.

  My arms felt so tight and heavy as I took the first swing. My eyes stared towards the cabin and into the window, but no sign of Bailey. I knew she was inside, probably wondering why I’d avoided her so blatantly, but it was for her own good and for the good of whoever was looking for her.

  Snow started to fall in light flakes as the sky darkened above me. It was still early, but any sign of the sun was gone, and the air reflected that. Wind blew through the trees, shaking them with an eerie dance. I still hadn’t been here long enough to know everything that lurked in the woods, so I lowered my axe and listened towards the rustling. It wasn’t a familiar wind, but something else, something probably hungry on this desolate mountainside.

  The bushes shook violently, causing the layered snow to fall from either side. I gripped my axe, waiting for whatever lurked towards me to leap out, but nothing. It was silent, eerily silent, and suddenly not even the wind stirred the forest surrounding me. I shook it off, figuring it may have been a bird caught in the brush, or some other small animal looking for shelter, spooked by my scent, my presence in what should be home only to the creatures that lived in the trees, and beneath the earth in holes.

  I took a few more swings, splitting logs as quickly as I could position them on the stump in front of me. Axe in the air, high above my head and ready to drop down on the next log, a rustling of the same bush revealed an angry coyote, hungry and ready to fight for its territory—or possible dinner. Without time to react, the axe came down, slamming into the coyotes back as his teeth clenched onto my shoulder, tearing through the thick coat and into my skin. I fell to my back, the animal on top of me, and felt it go limp as the axe wound took effect. I rolled him from my chest, sat up, and guarded the area where he’d leaped from, my hands tightly gripped on the axe I ripped from his back. They were known to travel together, to hunt together, but this one appeared to be alone. I felt bad for the
creature as I watched his blood coat the white snow, taking note of the ribs that were so visible in his empty stomach. He was hungry, probably desperate for food after enduring the storm, and young enough that he’d probably just had his first taste of the bitter cold of the mountains of Maine, and unfortunately, his last.

  My grandfather taught me to lever let an animal go to waste, and to use everything, otherwise the kill was in vain. This wasn’t a planned kill, or a hunt, but I still had the responsibility of treating the animal with respect, even though he’d tried to chew through my tough shoulder. It ached, but I’d tend to that later. I walked into my shed, gathered my knives, and cleaned the coyote of his warm pelt. It would make a nice hat, maybe some furring strips for my boots, or Bailey’s when we finally decided to make it down the mountain.

  Eating coyote wasn’t making me excited, but if we ended up stuck here for much longer, meat was going to be scarce. I cringed as I cleaned him out, finding my assumptions of his starvation were on target. I worked my knife along his bones, slicing any usable meat from his humble frame, and tossed it in a bucket. His carcass was going to do nothing but attract more animals, so I grabbed as shovel, and drug it deeper into the woods. I found a spot to bury him, nearly breaking my back to loosen the frozen ground.

  I walked back into the house carrying the bucket and a load of wood, the felt over my shoulder. Bailey’s eyes widened as I entered, her petite frame frozen in front of me.

  “What happened?” she gasped, her feet breaking free and moving her towards me.

  The look in her eyes gave me a strange feeling in my gut, one I hadn’t experienced before. Her hand rested on my shoulder, gently smoothing her palm over my coat. She pulled it back, my blood on her, and her eyes filled with concern.

  “It was just a hungry coyote,” I explained, shrugging it off as if it were nothing. Compared to what I’d lived through, it was nothing. It was clear she felt otherwise. I chuckled as I moved towards the sink, leaving the bucket of meat on the counter. I slung the felt from my shoulder, slapping it on the counter next to the bucket, and then moved towards the fireplace where I dropped off the load of wood.