Romance: Seducing The Quarterback

by Stacie Duncan

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return it to the seller and purchase a copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Published: Steamyreads4u @September 2015

  Warning

  This book contains graphic content intended for readers 18+ years old.

  If you are under 18 years old, or are not comfortable with adult content, please close this book now.

  Chapter 1

  “Mom, do we really have to be doing this?” I groaned as I stuffed the last of my bags into our silver SUV. We were headed to our family's beach house for a week like we did every summer since I was little, but I assumed the tradition would stop once I turned eighteen and started college. It seemed so lame to be vacationing with my parents. Well, my mother. Paul wasn't my real father. And I was definitely not the kind of person who wanted to strut down the beach in a bathing suit.

  It wasn't that I was ugly – definitely not. I was just bigger than most girls. I knew I had a pretty face, and I was proud of my shiny dark hair and deep brown eyes, but I was absolutely not looking forward to the college guys who flocked to the shore around this time of year seeing me in a bathing suit. They could be unnecessarily cruel.

  Also, it wasn't that I didn't want to go, really; I loved our beach house, with its sea-weathered siding and wide front porch overlooking the ocean. I just didn't want to spend that long with my mother. We didn't exactly get along. Once I began college, it had gotten better, but I had the feeling it was just because we weren't in such close quarters anymore. Since I was a young teenager, she'd been critical of the way I looked. She was always putting me on diets or urging me to try the newest fitness craze, and when I didn't slim down like she wanted, she just became more and more disappointed.

  My mom sighed, already exasperated before the trip even began, and said “Oh, Claire, don't start this again...” She pulled the hatch down on the back of our car and made sure it was shut. “We got you those nice bathing suits that flatter your figure, Ashley will come visit in a few days... It's really not going to be so terrible.” My mother was beautiful, with shoulder-length blonde hair, a slim figure, and a dazzling Christie Brinkley smile. She turned heads everywhere she went.

  Unfortunately I took after my father – short, curves that don't quit, and dark hair. It was so not fair. I think I reminded her too much of my dad. It was either that or how blatantly I didn't fit into her new perfect family.

  Even the man my mom married after she and my dad divorced was unbearably attractive. Paul was a marathon runner, tan and toned with light brown hair and piercing blue eyes. They married when I was fifteen and I've been in awe of him ever since. Hey, I could look if I wanted to – it's not like we were blood-related. Besides, there was no chance he would ever look at me that way even though I was eighteen because he had my gorgeous mother as his wife.

  “Fine,” I grumbled, settling down into my seat and pulling the seat belt tight.

  Paul got into the driver's seat next, his white polo and light blue shorts complementing, well...everything about him from his tanned skin to his sky-blue eyes. He turned around to face me, a smirk on his face and a twinkle in his eye. “Don't worry, kid. I'll make sure you have a good time.” He winked and I couldn't help but smile back at him. I stared out the window, hyper-aware of the effect he had on me; palms sweaty, heart racing...feelings I definitely shouldn't have for my stepfather.

  I plugged in my iPod and vaguely noticed my mother getting into the passenger seat next to Paul. She reached for his hand with her perfectly manicured one and I felt a wave of jealousy rush over me. I wanted to be able to do that with someone; just sit and hold hands comfortably. The last boyfriend I had was critical of my body too, which begged the question: why was he with me in the first place? Since then, I'd been avoiding guys like the plague. I wasn't going to put myself through that misery again. If he didn't like the way I looked, that was his problem; but I wasn't changing for anyone.

  Suddenly my mother's hand was tapping my knee rapidly, her face impatient. I took my headphones out of my ears. “What?” I asked.

  “I've been trying to get your attention for at least five minutes -” she started.

  “It wasn't five minutes,” Paul said, cutting her off. He looked back at me, “It wasn't five minutes,” he clarified.

  “Well, whatever,” my mother said dismissively. “We're getting salads at Rainbow Kale before we leave, what would you like?”

  I rolled my eyes and lolled my head back onto the headrest. It was beginning already. “Whatever has the highest fat content,” I replied sarcastically. Paul snorted from the front seat and mom shot him a warning look.

  “You know,” she began, lecturing, “if you put in any effort, you'd be a very pretty girl.”

  Thanks mom.

  “Oh, she already is a pretty girl, Christine,” Paul stressed. “Claire, don't worry about it,” he told me, winking again. I smiled and put my headphones back in, ignoring my mother. I thought of the way Paul smiled and winked at me; not once, but twice, and I bit my lip at the thought of him kissing me. I quickly shook the thought from my head. I definitely shouldn't be thinking of my stepdad that way.

  Still, there was something about the way he'd been looking at me lately...maybe I was just imagining things.

  Chapter 2

  After an unbearable argument with my mother at Rainbow Kale, which was apparently her new favorite place in the world to humiliate me, I placated her with ordering a grilled chicken Caesar salad. Just to spite her, all I ate were the croutons and the chicken. Her disapproving look showed me I'd succeeded and it gave me a great feeling of satisfaction. I smiled through my crouton-filled mouth and once again stared out the window. Paul chuckled at my childlike petulance.

  The beach was about an hour's drive from home so for the remainder of the car ride I sat back and listened to the music pouring out of my headphones. I tried to avoid looking toward the front of the car because I knew Paul and my mother were still holding hands and I still felt that strange pang of jealousy. It wasn't fair for my mom to have married someone so good-looking.

  We pulled into our sandy driveway at around 3:00 and I immediately unbuckled my seat belt and retrieved my bags from the trunk. The sooner I could unpack, the sooner I'd be able to enjoy what was left of the day at the beach. Getting here so late in the afternoon meant I wouldn't have to worry so much about sunburn. My skin was so pale I burned even on cloudy days.

  Paul tossed me the keys while he and mom were still unpacking and I fumbled with the doorknob (the sea air always made it stick a bit). When I opened the door I was greeted by the familiar smell of childhood and summers spent here since I was a baby. Maybe I was happy we were here.

  I tossed the keys on the metal plate sitting on the light wooden table by the entrance of the house and made my way up the stairs.

  My bedroom here was an absolute oasis and paid homage to everything sea-related. The bed was made of the same light wood as the table downstairs and had a large headboard and footboard that curved slightly outward. A canopy hung from the ceiling framing my bed. It was draped with a small amount of decorative fishing net which was, admittedly, a little kitschy but I loved it. The pillows were big and comfortable and the bedclothes were dotted with little anchors. All around the room, the decorations screamed 'This is a beach house!' It might have been tacky to some, but I loved it.

  I plopped my bags down on the bed and began to unpack, but soon the sunlight peeking through my blinds made me for
get unpacking. I just wanted to go to the beach, and I knew I'd have to mentally prepare for whatever comments my mother would make about my body.

  I pulled out the new bathing suits that apparently “flattered my figure” and frowned. These were definitely made for old ladies. Once again, thanks mom. She clearly didn't want to be embarrassed by her fat daughter.

  What she didn't know was that I packed my own swimsuit, and it was a two-piece. Regardless of what she said, I was wearing it. I think it flattered my figure just fine.

  I quickly put it on along with a cover-up and grabbed a towel and a book. Paul and mom were just getting in the house as I came down the stairs.

  “Going to the beach?” Paul asked excitedly.

  “Yeah,” I responded, smiling. “That's the whole point, isn't it?”

  He smiled again while mom set some bags down. “You're wearing one of those pretty suits?” she asked hopefully.

  “Yep,” I lied. “I'm gonna go now,” I said quickly, heading for the back door that led straight to the beach.

  “We'll join you in a few minutes!” Paul called out. “Have fun!”

  I smiled as I slid open the glass door.

  Chapter 3

  The sun was blinding and I realized I'd forgotten my sunglasses. I tossed them on the table when I first came in along with the keys. I turned around to go get them, but Paul was already there holding them out in his hand. His blue eyes met my brown ones and we held each other's gaze for a split second.

  “Thought you'd need these,” he said, eyes now averted. Did we just have a moment?

  I reached out and took them. Our hands brushed together slightly. “Thanks,” I breathed.

  He nodded curtly then turned around, sliding the door closed behind him. Slightly dazed, I continued my walk to the beach.

  I found a spot just enough out of the sun for me to not burn and started applying my sunscreen. I turned around to see if my mom and Paul were close to getting ready, and noticed Paul staring at me from the corner of his eye in the kitchen window. I waved and he turned away. Weird.

  Soon enough, Paul and mom came bounding out of the house like two tan models they hire for vacation commercials. I laughed out loud when I realized that my mother was wearing the same bathing suit I was. Oh, she would love that.

  Paul didn't bother to wear a shirt and the muscles he got from all of his exercise glistened in the beachy sunlight. He had a slight bit of chest hair and six-pack abs that descended into a V-cut like I'd never seen. His trunks sat low on his waist. I was not complaining.

  “Well, baby, show me your suit!” mom prompted giddily. “It looks so nice on you. Did you wear the blue one?”

  I grinned a bit before saying, “Uh, no actually. Wore one of my own.” I took off my cover-up and she gasped.

  “Claire Elizabeth Wilkins! Where did you get that?” She demanded.

  “I've had this,” I insisted. “Where'd you get yours?”

  Paul hadn't stopped giggling since he realized we were wearing the same thing. “Well, one of you is going to have to change,” he finally said through his laughter.

  “Do not get sassy. Go change,” my mother commanded, pointing to the house.

  “Mom, no,” I insisted. “There's literally no one around,” I said, gesturing to the empty beach. “Who is here to make you embarrassed of your fat daughter?”

  Her jaw tensed and she just harrumphed, sitting daintily in her Adirondack chair. She closed her eyes and leaned back, clearly not discussing it any further.

  Paul put his hand on my back. “You look great,” he mouthed, shaking his head in my mom's direction.

  “Thanks,” I mouthed back. I turned and looked the ocean, realizing that despite my bravado, I still got hurt by my mother's criticism. Paul's kind words helped.

  “Want to go in?” he asked energetically.

  I groaned in response. The ocean wasn't really my thing. I was too scared of mysterious things touching my feet to really enjoy myself. Plus, the waves were strong here and I had a feeling I'd inevitably lose a part of my bathing suit.

  “Come on,” he coaxed, already a few steps ahead of me. He waved for me to follow.

  I finally gave in and started the walk down to the waterside, conscious of my belly and thighs jiggling. I didn't think Paul had ever seen me this way. It was a little intimidating considering his athleticism.

  Demonstrating just that, Paul waded out to his waist and dove straight in. When he resurfaced, he called out, “Let's jump some waves!”

  Despite my aversion to the ocean, I definitely did not have an aversion to Paul. I acquiesced only slightly reluctantly. I mirrored his wade-then-dive approach and resurfaced right next to him. “Okay,” I said. “So how do I do this?”

  “What?” Paul asked incredulously. “You're telling me you've never done this?”

  “I'm telling you I've never done this,” I said, a slightly flirty tone to my voice that surprised even me.

  He locked eyes with me again for a moment, then quickly looked away. “Okay, so see that wave coming?” He asked, pointing to a large wave about to crest. I nodded. “When it gets close enough, dive under it.”

  “Under it?” I asked. “I thought we were jumping them.”

  He waved his hand dismissively. “Whatever. Look alive, Claire!” he shouted just as the wave crested. He dove under gracefully while I tumbled through the water, completely at the mercy of the ocean.

  He emerged on the other side, exhilarated, while I tried to regain my balance and get my bikini top to actually cover me. The wave must have knocked it out of place and it was completely undone. Unknowingly, he paddled over to me. “You okay?” he asked, a slight smile in his voice.

  At that exact moment the tide went back out and I was fully exposed. Oh no. Paul's eyes widened as I scrambled to get my top back in place. I didn't say a word, but I noticed his stare. He was looking at my breasts straight on as if he couldn't look away. “Let's, uh,” he paused. “Let's just take a break for a while, lay out in the sun.” Hurriedly, he got out of the water and started the walk back toward my mother.

  If anyone was embarrassed that day, it was definitely me.

  Chapter 4

  When I left the beach, I picked up all of my things and started to head inside. “I'm going to shower,” I called over my shoulder. Neither my mom nor Paul said a word, which I was grateful for. I picked up my phone when I got inside and noticed a text from my roommate, Ashley. She was my absolute best friend and I could not wait for her to get here. Especially after what just happened. It read:

  Hey! Seeing you in two daaaayyyys, are you excited?

  I wrote back:

  Duh. Also, Paul just saw my tits and I have no idea what to do with that.

  She responded immediately with:

  Paul is the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life. Go with it.

  I put my phone down and shook my head. Ash was always telling me to just “go with it,” but I was not like her. She was beautiful and curvy in a non-fat way, with long red hair and beautiful green eyes. Boys flocked to her. Men flocked to her. Hell, women flocked to her. She was stunning. I even caught myself staring at her changing in our dorm a few times. She was much more adventurous than I was, and definitely much more beautiful.

  I could not believe Paul's reaction to seeing me exposed like that. He didn't even look away. And I didn't mind. In fact, I sort of...liked it. The thought of it excited me in a way I shouldn't have.

  After grabbing my shampoo and conditioner from my toiletries bag, I took off my swimsuit and left it on the floor. I'd take care of it later. Wrapping myself in a big bath towel, I headed to our tiny bathroom. It was covered with ocean-related décor just like the rest of the house and had completely terrible water pressure. I knew I'd be in the shower a long time to even get the conditioner out of my hair. I grabbed a starfish-shaped decorative soap from the top of the sink and dropped my towel, stepping into the tub and pulling the shower curtain closed.

  Lat
hering up my body with the soap, I paused briefly when I reached my breasts. Once again, I thought of Paul's gaze. A little cautiously at first, I began to play with my nipples. They hardened as I thought of what it would be like for him to touch me like this. Just thinking about it couldn't hurt anybody, could it?

  My thoughts were stopped by the sound of the door sliding open downstairs. Paul and mom were back, so I started to shampoo my hair and pushed the dirty thoughts I was having out of my head.

  I heard their footsteps on the staircase and realized they were coming up to their bedroom. They were whispering and...did I just hear my mom giggling? Their bedroom door opened and squeaked closed, but I didn't hear it latch. They couldn't be...could they? Oh my God, they were making out!

  I finished my shower but left the water on, not wanting them to know I could hear them. I stepped out of the bath as quietly as I could and tiptoed toward the door, which I'd left open a crack. From the bathroom I could see into their bedroom, right to their bed. They'd left the door open a little wider than they must've intended so I had a perfect view of them. I tried to quiet my breath as I peered through the cracks in both doors. My mom was on the bed still in her bikini. Paul, though, was completely naked.

  Mom beckoned Paul to her with her index finger and he climbed onto the bed, his hands sliding up her calves and down her thighs. I couldn't hear them very well because of the shower, but I knew I heard Paul groan and it made me instantly wet. He leaned down and pushed my mother's bikini bottoms to the side, lowering his mouth to her pussy. I couldn't believe I was watching this. Why was I watching this? I tried to push the thought of this being my mother out of my mind. It was just Paul I was watching. He was magnificent.

  He licked and sucked her pussy like I'd never seen anyone do before and I noticed my mom's hands grasp the sheets. She was squirming and I couldn't blame her. I would be too. Slowly he licked his finger, a devilish look in his eye, and inserted it into her pussy. I gasped and moaned, trying to stay quiet. I wish he were doing that to me. Soon, he had two fingers inside her and was doing very impressive things with them. Sincerely, I raised my eyebrows in admiration of his skills. None of the boys I'd been with knew how to do that.